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sshbpodcast · 3 months

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Character Spotlight: Lwaxana Troi

By Ames

Lwaxana haters, see yourselves out (or stick around and see how wrong you are!), because A Star to Steer Her By loves our black-eyed Betazoid mama. She’s the daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and also one of our favorite characters from The Next Generation!

Like Katharine Pulaski (whom we also stan with the best of them!), Lwaxana Troi is a character who gets way more hate than she deserves, who grew substantially every time she appeared on the show, and who has way more nuance than even some of the main characters we’ve discussed from the show so far! And that fashion sense? Holy cow. So pack your absurdly huge luggage, don your fluffiest wig, and meet up with us and Mr. Homn as we celebrate (and occasionally criticize) all things Lwaxana below and this week on the podcast (sashay over to 55:22 for the convo). We’re going on a manhunt!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Murderers! Assassins! While her first couple of appearances in TNG were fairly annoying, as you’ll see in our next section, the one thing Lwaxana gets emphatically right in “Manhunt” is figuring out the two Antedians the Enterprise was carrying are actually assassins. And she drops this information in the most nonchalant way possible, cementing her status as a major boss.

Release them and I will stay with you willingly Oh boy is “Ménage à Troi,” a tough episode to gauge. While it certainly has its lows (Lwaxana constantly crashing Deanna’s day, Ferengi shenanigans at their worst, and some sexual assault and implied rape swept under the rug), Mrs. Troi does put her daughter first and insists to Daimon Tog that Deanna and Will be released if she sacrifices herself like any mother would.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? The other great scene that Lwaxana inspires in “Ménage à Troi,” is one we mentioned in our Picard Spotlight post, when she and JL work together to trick the Ferengi into releasing her. Even from across viewscreens, she compels the beautiful diatribe of Shakespearean poetry from Jean-Luc that ends up saving the summer’s day!

What does that little one do, Mister Woof? I don’t know why, but it always tickles me the couple of times on the show that Lwaxana calls our Klingon security head “Mr. Woof” as she does in “Half a Life” and others. Is she doing it just to evoke a reaction from him? Does she actually know his name at all? Regardless of the answer, it’s a cute joke that the writers play.

It is the custom for your loved ones to join you at this Resolution, is it not? Our fuller opinion of the character really started getting formed once the show reached “Half a Life” – one of our TNG faves – and we got a different look at this man-hungry helicopter parent. Suddenly, Lwaxana has nuance. She fights for people other than herself or her immediate family. She becomes vulnerable with Timicin, something we didn’t think possible from her character. And when she decides to go with him to his Resolution, it feels personal, complex, and complete.

A child who is trusted becomes worthy of that trust We gave Deanna some rightful criticism for thinking that writing up a contract between Worf and Alexander would be a good idea in “Cost of Living,” and Lwaxana waltzes in like a fairy godmother and throws that terrible idea in their faces! Immediately, she knows how to better parent Alexander than anyone else on the show ever had, low bar that that is.

You’re telling me you’re not going to be naked at your own wedding? It feels like such a triumph for Lwaxana to so brazenly show up naked to her wedding in “Cost of Living,” fully embracing her Betazoid heritage and throwing her strong will and individuality in Campio’s and his little toady’s faces. Now why she was engaged to that uptight twat in the first place is another story, but good for her anyway!

Whatever it is, we can face it together Here’s an actually good moment she shares with her daughter: That tear-jerking moment in “Dark Page.” It’s another instance in which we see Lwaxana as having more personality traits than we were led to believe she had as she comes to acknowledge the death of her daughter Kestra, and also we see Majel Barrett nailing some acting we’d never seen from her before.

Nobody’s ever seen me like this By the time we reach Deep Space Nine, the writers have figured out what to do with Lwaxana Troi to make her an impactful character. Sure, she’s still a great comic device, especially against rigid characters like Picard and Odo, but it’s in the way that she is humanized (or Betazoidized?) in scenes like the truly remarkable turbolift scene in “The Forsaken” that she really shines.

Then sway with me, Odo. Sway with me. While Lwaxana’s constant pestering of Picard gets tiring really quickly, her relationship with Odo proves something more interesting. In one of those Odd Couple kind of pairings, she’s able to get Odo to come out of his shell, even if it’s just a little bit, so when she gets him to dance with her in “Fascination,” it’s delightful and shows more layers to their respective characters.

Before I met her, my world was a much smaller place Okay, so the weird inspiration vampire side of the plot of “The Muse” may be idiotic, but the Lwaxana-Odo scenes are pure gold. Lwaxana and Odo, again, find each other to be the only people they can be vulnerable with, and Odo agrees to marry a very pregnant Lwaxana to get her out of an existing marriage, delivering the purest, most intimate and beautiful speech we’ve heard from him (until Kira, at least).

Strut your stuff on the catwalk Finally, we just have to give massive points to her remarkable fashion sense. One of our favorites is this blue number from “Fascination,” with the perfect wig to complement it and accessories like whoa. Make sure you check out our full screenshot assemblage that we put together previously to give fair credit to the excellent costuming of this iconic woman.

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Worst moments

Momzillas gone wild Mrs. Troi is not without her faults, however, and most are man-related. How much pressure she puts on her daughter to get married is more than uncomfortable, it can get downright offensive. When the arranged marriage she initiated between Deanna and Wyatt comes due in “Haven,” it’s clear that this momzilla doesn’t always have her daughter’s best interests in mind; just her own.

Use your mind, not your mouth We also found it just plain rude how much Lwaxana insisted on communicating with Deanna telepathically in “Haven” and other episodes. a) Deanna has made it clear she’d rather speak out loud, and b) Picard and other crewmembers can’t hear what’s being said and that’s impolite, especially coming from someone of such standing in the Federation.

Oh, Jean-Luc, what naughty thoughts It becomes a running gag for the first couple appearances of Lwaxana how much she makes sexual advances on Captain Picard, who is just trying to do his job most of the time. But “Manhunt” really takes the cake for just going overboard with presumptuous behavior unbecoming for a woman of her stature. Leave the poor guy alone!

Until death us do part Later in “Manhunt,” it’s even grosser for Mrs. Troi to declare that she and Riker are to be wed. Whatever physiological state she was in is no excuse for how she goes out of her way to mortify her daughter, to put the moves on Deanna’s imzadi without consent, and to make scene after scene all for romantic attention. Why Gene Roddenberry would make his wife act like this is beyond us.

No man has ever been such a mystery to me Lucky for the flesh-and-blood men that Lwaxana spends most of “Manhunt” sexually accosting, apparently she has no idea what a hologram is. I don’t know how, but she’s so horny that when she meets Rex the bartender, she’s so intrigued by her inability to read his mind that she doesn’t even realize it’s because he’s not a real person. We can just imagine how far it went before it dawned on her.

Oo-mox is only the beginning It’s only fitting that someone like Lwaxana Troi should be there for the introduction of oo-mox on the show, and one time was already too much. During “Ménage à Troi,” Lwaxana unknowingly performs what’s essentially a sex act on her captor, which is gross enough as it is, but we learn later in an episode of Deep Space Nine that she also slept with Daimon Tog, and I vomit in my mouth.

Swipe right! We learn in “Cost of Living” that Lwaxana has gotten engaged to Campio, whom she effectively met on a dating app and whom she has absolutely no chemistry with. It strikes us as entirely out of character that she’d accept marriage to someone who wouldn’t allow her to be who she intrinsically is just because he’s rich. Thank the Four Deities she found a way out of it!

My name is Mud While we gave Lwaxana credit for spending more time with Alexander and treating him better than Worf ever does, we have to admit that the jacuzzi scene in “Cost of Living” is off-putting. Sure, it’s the future and we know that in Betazoid culture, nudity is entirely normal, but we’re still not sure it’s something Alexander is accustomed to or had any ability to consent to and that’s weird.

The worst thing that can happen to any parent This is a complicated one because it’s so triggering. I’m not sure it would be fair to blame Lwaxana or anyone for the accident that befell Kestra as we learn in “Dark Page,” but it’s very clear that Lwaxana blames herself. This is truly the lowest her character had ever been, and it explains a few things about how she so tightly latches on to Deanna, but it is a bad, bad time for her.

Bad thoughts, they hurt her What’s more accurate to say about the events from “Dark Page” is that Lwaxana had handled her trauma in an ultimately poor way. By blocking those memories as evidently Betazoids do with triggering events, she never was able to mourn or accept the loss of Kestra, instead avoiding the memories entirely in a way that turned out to be harmful to her and not fair to her late daughter’s memory.

Does no one understand quarantine procedures? I’ll nitpick about it every time some disease breaks out in an episode and no one seems to understand you shouldn’t go around touching everyone around them. So when Lwaxana has Zanthi Fever in “Fascination” and suddenly her horniness becomes contagious, I’m doubly pissed off because it resulted in a really, really stupid premise for an episode.

What I’d mistaken for love was nothing more than a prison After we mentioned just now when Lwaxana leapt at the chance to marry Campio in “Cost of Living,” we see she’s made the same mistake with Jeyal in “The Muse,” except now there’s a baby involved. The most irritating facet of Lwaxana’s personality is how man-hungry she always seems to be. It always clouds her perception, making her make bad decision after bad decision, and worse: making her compromise who she is.

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Give it up for Majel Barrett Roddenberry, who could really do it all. Stick around next week for more kickass recurring characters on the Enterprise-D, and for our continued ride through the series Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also send us love notes over on Facebook and Twitter, but stop marrying every eligible dude you meet!

#star trek #star trek podcast #podcast #lwaxana troi #the next generation #deep space nine #haven #manhunt #menage a troi #half a life #cost of living #dark page #the forsaken #fascination #the muse #majel barrett

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faiiryteethh · 6 months

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hi do you mind if I ask you what symptoms of bipolar you have experienced before/are currently experiencing right now? if this is too heavy for you to answer then that’s alright it’s just that I was recently diagnosed with bipolar 2 and I wanted to hear about the experience from another person.. thank you

well i have bipolar 1 rapid cycling which is more severe than just having bipolar 1. and bipolar 1 by itself is more severe than bipolar 2, so definitely don't compare yourself to me too much. also everyone is different. not every person with bipolar of any type has the same symptoms. i also have anxiety, ptsd, and im seeing a psychiatrist in november to be tested for a neurological disorder that my therapist thinks i may have but she can't diagnose me. so sometimes those symptoms from other things overlap into what i experience. some things might be caused by my anxiety or ptsd. for example i've had hallucinations plenty of times which can be a symptom of bipolar but also could be from ptsd too. i have manic episodes all the time. and when im not having mania im basically in a constant state of depression. its awful. i do have impulses but ive spent years learning how to control them. they used to be uncontrollable and it ruined my life for many years. my sleep and appetite changes constantly. sometimes i dont need sleep at all and other times all i do is sleep. and most of them time i can't eat a lot. and when i am able to eat i end up binge eating to make up for barely eating most of the time. im extremely indecisive and its hard to focus on one task. i usually have like 10 different tasks going at a time which makes it hard to complete anything. but i also become obsessed with my interests. it actually annoys ppl because i will talk about the same few things over and over. i have suicidal thought all the time. only thoughts tho. i would never act on them. but before i could control my impulses i had multiple attempts to end my life. i also have constant racing thoughts or my mind feels blank and i'll be completely silent for days sometimes because i have nothing to say. except when it comes to my children. obviously i speak to them when they are around, but i won't start a conversation when my mind feels blank or i won't CHOOSE to say anything for days. yeah it really fucking sucks. life with bipolar is mainly living in extremes. [for me anyway]. im either exteremely happy or extremely sad. same goes with being confident or not confident, hungry or not hungry, etc. one of the hardest things is having so much energy when im manic and feeling constantly tired and drained when im depressive. because i have children and i HAVE to be productive on daily basis. i can't just NOT clean or do dishes or laundry etc. so when im depressive i have to mentally and physically force myself to do anything. its honestly absolute hell. and im so sorry you have it too. i wish i had more positive things to tell you about it, but im not going to sugarcoat it or lie to you.

as long as you put in effort to work on yourself and try to be aware of the way you react to things or what things affect your mood, it will get easier. i know that i NEED therapy. every time i left therapy i relapsed on drugs or i mentally deteriorated. so i highly recommend finding a good therapist if you start to struggle badly. or just have one just to help you even if you don't think you need one. they help sooo much with helping u understand yourself and your thoughts and actions. i wish you nothing but the best✨💜 bipolar disorder can be so crippling. it can even be a disability for some ppl. for me it is. i am getting disability soon because its pretty impossible to find a job that works with what im able and unable to do. it lowered my confidence a lot when i realized i needed the extra help but now im more okay with it because i know its just the hand i've been dealt. i didnt ask for bipolar disorder. just like i didn't ask for it to prevent me from working. its just what happened to me. and thats okay. 🖤💜 i hope you are well🥰

#ask

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cybermeep · 3 months

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met a new boy today.. not new in the sense he was new to the school, but new in my eyes. ive seen him occasionally. mistook him for that 8th grader with the blonde hair and glasses who i have an odd urge to punch. won’t, obviously, just an observation. i digress; he was seated beside me and he had very long curly hair, hair which was stuffed under his beanie. very long. i thought he had a very interesting face which would be a challenge to draw accurately. he mentioned dantes inferno being his favorite book and i almost fell out of my chair (respectfully.) asked him at the end of class what he liked about it & if he ever watched as above so below. he did. he seems very fascinating and im very excited to have a new person to speak with; one which seems.. quiet. i like quiet.

speaking of said class, i’m excited to be in it! will likely move to the honors section so i can have more prerequisites for AP environmental science. i was not going to take chemistry— although it simultaneously wasn’t an option for that period… i digress; what i mean is im happy where i am. although scared, happy. plus i have a new acquaintance; i don’t wish to change this and do hope im allowed to live this way because im genuinely happy and excited even if i may be a bit out of my comfort zone with certain material. doin’ it scared, i guess.

speaking of this, i felt like that creepy boy who got expelled today because of certain placement and bad timing of a question i had pertaining to something from earlier in the day. i wanted to die. i should stop saying that. what i mean is i felt as if i was in his shoes, quite literally because of placement, and it made me immensely uncomfortable. i walked to my next class and wasn’t able to look at myself without feeling sick. eventually, it went away. still, it stung. a lot. it made me feel like him although i hadn’t done anything of the sort, yes i’ve been an oddity and’ve been annoying & loud & bothersome but i’ve never been one to ever say or do things like he’s done, hurt people like he has. i felt cripplingly horrible. hopefully that wont happen again.

i also ate school lunch for the first time in… um.. ah, uh, i think a month. i know i ate one meal because it was one i really wanted, but that was an outlier. might be more than a month. i mean, i would get something to eat occasionally i.e snacks or the like, so its not like im out of nutrients or something extreme, just.. hesitant. i don’t like admitting that i hadn’t eaten lunch in that long, even if very few people read these, like you, possible reader of these gibberish phrases i spit out, because it feels absolutely humiliating and something not deserving to be shared as it would be a burden to others to state it; but its the truth. this was both because of the fact i sat with people, hadn’t felt the compulsion to overthink something as simple as food like i usually would, and also because i was just.. hungry. thats three things. explained to someone my line reasoning & had a certain cadence when i said ‘one organism’ which i proceeded to repeat in said tone over and over quietly. i had a lot of fun with them..

i have people i sit with now but it feels depressing. how is that possible? i think its because im constantly aware of both sides to things & because of this i was overtly aware that, although i was now doing okay and better, somewhere out there someone else is doing worse and is alone even if its someone not on this continent. i don’t like this revelation, it makes me sad. i know its simply the way things work & how things balance out one another but it still seems to be jarring. i dont like seeing others distraught. i prefer to be the one distraught & cripplingly sad because then it means theres someone else living happily. all i can try to do is not harp on this too vividly

i might go make cereal

#cybers tangents

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turbo12334 · 2 years

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Have you ever felt like you’re falling? What am I kidding, of course you have. You wouldn’t be a human if you’ve never had the feeling that life was out of control, there wouldn’t be art, or music, or books like these if people didn’t experience emotions so deep, not even the languages we use to communicate can describe them. The feeling is usually described in a few different ways, it could feel like there’s no more control over your actions. Almost like you’re on autopilot, a robot even. Just an empty sack of a previously lively person. You feel tired, but you can’t sleep. You feel hungry, but food doesn’t satisfy you. You feel empty. Like nothing. For other people it could be very overwhelming. You’re stressed, you’re freaking out, and struggling with overthinking. You feel like you should be doing things to help everyone or you're a horrible person because you are not constantly there for everyone. Either way, it’s not usually described as a fun experience. If you’re anything like me, you immediately feel terrible for telling people about these emotions. You feel like they already have enough going on and this conversation just made things significantly worse, and if you’re just like me. This affects the people you hold closest. God I’d love to tell my mom what’s on my mind, but she’s a single mom of four with a draining job. Why the hell would she wanna know about her teenage daughter's issues? It sucks. There’s always something going on and I feel like an inconvenience. Even if they say I’m not. Because believe me, I’ve asked. I’ve asked so many times if I was being annoying, I’ve asked so many times if they've wanted me to go away. I Still feel like absolute trash for just being there. I try to be good. I try to succeed, and do what they want. I guess you could call me a people pleaser. I hate that, but it’s pretty much what I do. I put everything into tasks and favors and I sit there and listen and I do this and I do that just to make sure these people know I care about them. It’s gut wrenching, and tring, and nothing is worse than when they don’t return the effort you put into that relationship. You would literally die for this person, but they act like they don’t care or appreciate what you do for them.

People are selfish

people suck

people leave.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Why don’t you just stop caring, stop putting yourself in this situation.” How do you just leave someone? How do you just stop caring? You love this person, it’s your duty to be there, your duty to care. It feels like doing stuff like this is all you can do. I hate feeling like this is the only thing I can do for people to like me. I always feel like no one likes me because I’m me, they like me because I’m dependable and able to tolerate the terrible stuff they do. I guess a good solution to this kind of problem would be to get hurt. You care, and you care, and then you care and the person leaves. That sting of rejection, that hurt.. that is the experience that will scare you out of putting your all into relationships with terrible people. Cause they’ll leave, and it’s going to hurt. I know it’s going to hurt.

People tell you your bodies a temple, you’re a queen/king, follow what makes you happy. These days people will shame you for what makes you happy, it sucks but its the sad reality of this world. It makes people scared and embarrassed to do what makes them happy. Because these days you’ve gotta fit the mold. Or you’re not welcomed.

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just-me-ventin · 2 years

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5-19-2022

I don't have anyone to talk to. No one really understands me and what I have gone through and constantly deal with. I feel alone all the time and am in a constant state of anxiety.

Today was my fourth day on the new job. I though it would be a good week, that my boyfriend would be excited for me. Instead he has been nothing but angry and frustrated. I always feel anxious when he is around. I have no idea when he is going to get upset and explode.

He texted me in the afternoon about dinner and suggested pizza. Said he would leave me his card so I could go get it while he cuts grass. I don't have any money right now because of the new job so he's been paying for food this week. He said he didn't have a problem with it but thats not true at all.

As soon as I got home with the pizza I put my purse down and brought it to the living room for us to eat. Then just went on about my day. I kept trying to lay down and relax but he kept coming up to me asking for a massage or for sex. I was really not in the mood for either and just wanted to relax. He is constantly asking for back massages and its really annoying me. As soon as I lay down he comes up to me and doesn't even give me a chance to relax. I also had really bad heartburn from the pizza but he didn't care about that at all. After the forth time of me saying no he got mad and stormed off. Slammed the bedroom door and stayed in there.

I stayed away and finished my nightly chores. I'm the only one who takes care of the animals. He kept periodically storming out of the room and at one point said I need to give him his card back. I completely forgot about it and said he can get it from my purse. Instead he just went back into the room and slammed the door. He came out again for some water and said if the card is not in his wallet by morning he is going to start throwing shit out the fucking window. He slammed the door again. I immediately got up and put it in his wallet. He came out again and started yelling at me saying I'm going to steal his card and he was tired of this shit. I told him I put the card in his wallet and he said I was suppose to lay it on top of it. Then kept saying how tired he is of this shit and isn't putting up with it anymore.

I honestly have no idea what he is talking about. I've never tried to take or steal money from him. When I got the new job he said he wouldn't mind helping me out with food. At this point I would rather be hungry till my next paycheck then ask him for anything. I can't even go to sleep now because I keep waiting for him to come back out here to yell at me. I think every little noise is him getting up again.

Tomorrow he is going to act like nothing happened. If I still show I'm upset about it he will get mad again and another fight will start. If I try to talk to him about it he gets even more angry. I don't know how I'm suppose to deal with this. I'm not sure why I always end up in these kind of relationships. They all start out so kind and caring.

This was suppose to be a good week for me.

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babydaddyleorio · 2 years

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hello, i hope you’re doing great, can you please do prompt 2 for nash??? thank youuu 💛

i am doing great, thanks for asking! here you go </3

prompt: nash gold jr. - giving all their attention to you ❦

warnings: a ting of suggestiveness

⤷ 1k event masterlist!

Nash was a busy man, that much you knew.

His schedule was always packed with a multitude of press conferences and back to back games that never failed to send a wave of exhaustion all throughout his body. And as much as you supported him, Nash was still constantly occupied with his career that it made it nearly impossible to spend the time you truly craved with him.

Of course, you weren't the only one that was affected by this. Nash too thought about being with you every second he was away, so much so that he bargained with his coach just so he’d have one day to focus on you and only you.

You had woken up to an empty side of the bed which caused you to sigh in disappointment as you raised from your pillows. A nice, steamy shower would serve to relax you, at least you hoped it would, so you went and got just that. Once your mood had slightly lifted and your towel was wrapped securely, you walked back to your bedroom, only to come face to face with a figure leaning back onto your bed.

It was a surprise that made your eyes widen considerably and also made you squeal loudly as you jumped on to Nash, hugging him to your body tightly.

“Missed you too.” Nash chuckled against your ear as he gripped your waist gently.

After you had gotten dressed and listened to his short explanation, you and Nash decided to make some breakfast together. You were sitting along the edge of one of your marble counters with Nash standing tall between your legs. His pajama bottoms hung dangerously low on his hips and he was absent of a shirt, showcasing the muscles protruding across his bare back and the tattoos that swirled across his skin — your name being written in cursive ink against his chest.

“I could do this every morning.” Nash grumbled lowly against your swollen lips, smirking to himself at how carried away he had gotten.

“We were supposed to be making breakfast.” You chided softly before slightly tilting your head backwards to catch his ravenous eyes.

“Yeah? Well, I think I might be hungry for something else now.” He concluded before burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hands latching onto your inner thighs and slyly spreading them apart. You giggled loudly at Nash’s eagerness before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his face so it was just mere inches from yours.

“Maybe later.”

Nash groaned in impatience as you easily slid out of his embrace and wandered to your refrigerator, searching for the ingredients to make your meal. Nash’s face fell into a pout as he lingered behind you, and he scarcely helped and more so annoyed you as you tried your best to cook. He held your hips while peppering kisses along your jawline as you scrambled the eggs, and he leaned against the counter while dipping a finger into the pancake batter, playfully licking it clean and wiggling his eyebrows once he met your gaze.

And once you were finally finished, Nash carried both of your plates in his hands as the two of you made your way to the patio. You rarely ate on your terrace, but you were in the mood to try something new today.

Nash had plopped himself down at the table with its umbrella lifted and smoothly placed you on his lap —which caused him to cheese largely and childishly once he realized you were only wearing his oversized T-shirt. The small waterfall before you splashed calmly as the two of you ate your food, and you took this as an opportunity to chat about all the things you rarely got the chance to say.

“You make the best pancakes, you know that?” Nash mumbled while chewing in contentment, and you snickered at his obvious attempt of buttering you up.

“Now I do.”

Nash smiled at you with one of his cheeks poked out before gulping down the rest of his food and licking his lips.

“Open your mouth for me.”

You leaned closer towards Nash before slowly parting your lips as he slid his fork inside your mouth, and you hummed in appreciation at the fluffy piece of bread that filled your tastebuds.

“See, what I tell you?” Nash teased as he took his fork back and you rolled your eyes, although you’d be lying if you said his compliment didn’t secretly boost your ego.

“Damn, looks like you got something right there.” Nash furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed to the corner of your mouth. He moved to grasp your chin and lifted his thumb to wipe it away, but his eyes flashed mischievously as he pulled you into a kiss instead. You immediately relaxed against his chest and mentally sighed at how soft his lips felt on top of yours. You couldn’t help yourself as you thrusted your fingers into his hair and clutched it tighter than what you probably should’ve.

You missed this and you missed him. If only you had this much time with each other everyday.

Nash was the first to pull back, and once he did, he made sure to dramatically flicker his gaze towards the sky in deep thought.

“I think it’s later, sweetheart.”

You shook your head in realization to what he was insinuating before slowly raising from his lap. Nash watched with curious eyes as you walked away, but when you turned your head while grinning smugly and motioning your finger for him to follow you, Nash smirked at what was to come next.

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lokifantasies · 3 years

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Stolen (Loki/Reader)

Loki can be very annoying – you figured that out once the two of you purposely conceived a child. Every morning, he would follow you around like a lost little puppy while you got ready for work – having this compulsive need to make sure you were okay – that you were feeling fine and not vomiting all over the place.

"Loki," you rolled your eyes while washing your face in the bathroom sink – the God of Mischief protectively watching you. "Would you relax, please?" you begged him, honestly getting annoyed with his antics. "You don't need to keep following me around."

Loki's eyes widened as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush and start brushing your teeth. "What else am I supposed to do? Leave you alone? You're carrying my child, Y/N."

"This is also my child, Loki," you reminded him, your words slurring because of the paste. "You're stressing me out."

Loki let out a sigh, walked out of the bathroom, and then plopped down on the edge of the bed. You finished brushing your teeth, and you walked towards him – standing in front of him as he sat on the bed you and he share. "I'm sorry," he apologized, resting his head on the small baby bump that has started to show. "I just – I'm terrified of something happening to you...and our little one."

You ran your fingers through his hair and bent down to place a kiss on his head while he wrapped his arms around your waist. "I know you are," you comforted him. "You don't think I'm nervous?"

"I would be concerned if you weren't," Loki mumbled into your shirt.

You let out a chuckle. "The last thing I need is to feel constantly stressed out."

Loki planted a kiss on the small bump and looked up at you. "I'll try to relax."

"That's all I ask," you smiled, bending down to meet his lips halfway.

Two days – it's been two days since he promised to try to relax, and he's either not trying whatsoever, or he lied to you.

"You told me!" you yell at the god while he follows your angry stomping to the bedroom. "You promised me that you'd chill out!"

Loki scoffs. "No, I said I would try to relax," he reminds you.

Your head is about to explode – tears from your anger on the verge of spilling.

"Loki, you looked me in the face and lied to me," you grumble through gritted teeth.

Loki looks offended. "Really? You seriously believe I lied to you?" You throw your hands up in defeat and lock yourself in the bathroom – needing to get away from him in some sort of way. After a few moments of silence, you hear a soft knock on the door – a different sound from the sobs you're currently crying. "Please come out," Loki begs – hurt in his voice. You sniffle in response. "I'm -," he begins before sitting down with his back up against the door and letting out a sigh. "I'm scared to lose you," he painfully admits. You turn your eyes to the door – wondering if you should get out or not. Still, though, you remain silent – wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "When we were in the library," Loki continues to quietly speak from the other side of the door, "I, it took me a long time to accept that I wasn't dreaming." He lets out a fond chuckle. "You know that I've loved you for years – even as you slept in my brother's arms, and now – now...it's us. It's you and me – the little one you carry for us. There's a part of me that's convinced I'll lose all of this because...," he takes a deep breath, "because it wasn't supposed to be mine to begin with," his shaky voice finally admits.

You slowly get up from the bathtub and walk to the door, slowly opening it so that Loki doesn't fall backward. "That's not true," you manage to whisper – Loki looking up at you from the floor.

Loki stands up and grabs your hand – leading you to the bed and pulling you into his lap so that you straddle him. "It is true," he speaks quietly, wiping away any remaining tears you have. "I stole you...I,"

"I'm not property," you say, offended at his remark. "I chose you over Thor."

Loki gives you a sad smile. "Would we be where we are right now if I hadn't come to visit you in the library that day?"

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Just where would the two of you be if Loki hadn't come and literally sweep you off your feet? Would you still be living the unhappy life you had with Thor? "I don't know," you quietly shrug and look down at the small bump – your hands gently rubbing it. "But that doesn't matter...you did come, and you gave me the out that I was trying so desperately to find." You grab Loki's chin and make him look at you when he tries to look away. "You're my hero," you tell him, trying to get it to stick in his head. "You saved me from, what I believed, was a loveless, toxic relationship. I'm sure I would've left Thor at some point, and I'm willing to bet that I'd still end up here – with you – and our baby."

Loki's hand goes to the back of your head, and he pulls you down so his lips can capture yours. You let out a giggle when the two of you finally break apart – finally, his gorgeous smile back on his face.

"What's so funny?" Loki asks you, grinning as he tries to figure out what you're laughing at. While biting your lip and looking at him with seductive, lust-filled eyes, you move your hips so that you can feel the bulge that is undeniably growing in his pants. "Oh, really now?" Loki returns your sultry expression – his voice deepening as his arousal grows. His hands go to your belly, and you wiggle your hips against him once more. Loki closes his eyes, trying not to lose complete control, and he gently picks you up, so he can lie you on your back. Instantly, you bend your knees and spread your legs for him, and he begins to remove your pants along with your panties. His hand finds its way to your wetness, and his fingers begin to play as you explore each other's mouth. You grab fistfuls of his hair, and he pulls away from you – his eyes completely lust-blown and his expression hungry while his other hand softly rubs your baby bump. "I should have warned you about this little kink of mine."

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@radicallyred @holdmytesseract @lokiskitten @vicmc624

#loki x reader #loki fandom #loki fanfic #loki family #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #pregnant reader #mischievous life #mischievous relationship #god of mischief

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mcufox123 · 3 years

Text

Table 5 (Chapter 2)

Summary: What happens when you become close to a certain Avenger?

WandaxFemReader

Warnings: super slow burn

A/N: I am loving writing this story. I am already almost finished the next chapter. If you have any suggestions I am open!

Chapter 1. Chapter 3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6

“Viola!” she said as she put a plate of pan-fried chicken with a garlic broth on top of a bed of veggies. You cut into the chicken and ate it with some of the veggies. It was delicious and you moaned as the flavors swirled around your mouth. The sound made you wonder what it would sound like if she moaned your name. You quickly snap out of the thought though.

“This is amazing, wow.” You said as you eagerly bit into another piece of the chicken.

“It is the least I can do.” Wanda said as she cleaned up the few dishes she used. She pulled up another barstool next to you to sit and finish her glass of wine. You cut a piece of chicken and put it on the fork and held it up for her to try. She bit the chicken off the fork and also moaned in delight.

You both sat and continued talking while you finished eating and you both finished the wine.

“Well, I think it’s about time for me to face the disaster I have created. Thank you for tonight, it was really a lot of fun and I’m happy I was able to hang out with you.” Wanda said while finally getting up to leave.

“Thank you for cooking me my dinner. It was amazing. I had a lot of fun too!” you said while getting up and walking her to the door. “Can I give you my number in case you ever need to get away from all the hero business and just cook?” you asked her bravely.

“Yeah, for sure I’d like that!” she said while taking out her phone and handing it to you. You typed in your name and number before handing her back the phone. “Y/N Y/L/N, thank you.” She said while smiling. She reached up and kissed your cheek before walking out the door.

You smiled at yourself and hoped that would not be the last time you saw her.

The whole next week the beautiful woman who cooked you dinner stayed on your mind. You continued to wonder if that is the only time you would ever get to see her.

About a week later you are getting ready to open the restaurant when you get a text from a random number.

Hey y/n its Wanda from last week. I was wondering if you needed someone to make you dinner again tonight?

You smile at your phone as you answer yes with what time everyone should be out of the restaurant. That day you are as giddy as a little kid on Christmas. You are whistling and actually having fun conversations with your employees.

Your night flies by as you are constantly busy with orders. At around 11 pm the last guests finally leave. You clean up your station quickly as you see your workers start to leave. At around 11:30 you see her walk to the front door, and you rush over to open the door.

“Wanda, it's good to see you again!” you say opening your arms for a hug. She’s quick to move towards you and accept the embrace. It lasts longer than a normal hug as she holds onto you. After a minute she pulls away and clears her throat.

“Are you hungry?” she asks excitedly to which you nod, holding the door open for her to make her way to your station.

“Very, I’m excited to see what you’re going to make.” You say as you walk to your cabinet to grab a bottle of wine and walk back to sit on the barstool.

“I’m going to make a classic Sokovian dish. So, we will not be drinking wine tonight, we will instead drink like Sokovians.” She says while pulling out a bottle of vodka. You laugh but agree. The conversation starts off light as she goes over her week and what she did. She tells about the mission she went on and the charity event she had to go to. You could listen to her talk all day.

She’s midway through making her dish when the tough topic comes up.

“I talked to Vision too.” She says averting her eyes to stare at the dish.

“How was that?” you asked cautiously sipping on your vodka.

“It went really well actually. He knows me so he could understand a little bit and we agreed it was better if we were just friends.” She said continuing to stir the pot.

“That’s good then, right?” you ask, trying to read her.

“Yes, but I feel bad, like the past two years have been a big waste of time.” She says letting out a sigh.

“I don’t think so. Everything happens for a reason ya know.” You say while shrugging your shoulders. “Do you think you learned something from being in that relationship?” you ask her.

“Yeah, I think so. I think I noticed after it ended though.” She said while looking at you.

“Hey, that’s ok though!” you say reassuring her. Your night continues with light conversations until the food is placed in front of you.

You taste the food and moan again as the flavors danced on your tongue.

“How? How are you this good of a cook? You’re making me question my own cooking abilities.`` You say eagerly going for another spoonful.

“I don’t know, I guess you have to step up your game y/n.” she said in a teasing manner. You both continued to talk and drink the vodka and eventually you started to feel its effects and you think Wanda did too.

“Do you want to know what I learned from my relationship with Vision?” she asked, catching you off guard as you finished up your food.

“Sure.” You say, making sure not to push her to say anything she doesn’t want to.

“I learned that I also like women.” She said while taking a sip of vodka.

“How’d you figure that out?” You asked as your heartbeat quickened at your excitement.

“Well, I think I’ve always known but when he was down on one knee, I just had an almost ah ha moment. I don’t want someone to have to take care of me, I want to take care of someone else. And I'm not saying men don’t have to be taken care of, but women understand, and they are beautiful, and their bodies are amazing, and I want to explore them further.” Wanda said, rambling on. With every word she said you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and your want to touch her and make her feel good grew.

You stood up to take your dishes to the sink before you could do anything you would regret.

“Women are beautiful, I’m happy you’re exploring this part of you Wanda.” You said wanting the conversation to end before you would explode.

“Yeah, me too. I should get going, it's getting late.” Wanda said in a disappointed tone. You couldn’t read her but decided to just ignore it as you walked her to the door.

“Are you free Monday? I don’t have a mission so I could come cook you dinner again if you wanted.” She said turning to face you.

“Monday sounds perfect to me!” you said as you wrapped her in a hug before she left. She kissed your cheek then walked out the door.

The next couple months continue with Wanda coming every time she can to cook you a meal. Your nights always hold the best conversations, and you look forward to the attractive girl from table 5 cooking your dinner. Your texting becomes more frequent, and you find yourself missing her when she’s away on missions.

As her visits become more frequent you find yourself starting to fall in love with her. The way her nose scrunches up, the way she pulls her hair back when she’s cooking, the look of concentration on her face as she’s cutting something, the way she talks about the team like they are her family, the way she cares about people, all of it all of her.

You decide tonight is the night you are going to work up the nerve to tell her how you feel. It’s 11:30 sharp and you see Wanda stroll in from the back door. You decided that tonight’s drink of choice would be Margaritas after Wanda had informed you that dinner tonight would be tacos for taco Tuesday.

“Hey there darling!” she said as she hugged you. You had grown used to Wanda’s pet names after she claimed to give them to everyone she was friendly with.

“Hey Wanda! I made us margaritas tonight, mango frozen and there is plenty more to make.” You say as you walk around to the barstool as Wanda prepares herself to start cooking. By now she knew where everything was in the kitchen.

The usual thing happened. You talked about your days since the last time you saw each other, talked about random things like where you would live if you could move, and you talked about all the new drama with Avengers. Tonight’s topic was about how Yelena recently moved into the compound, who was Natasha’s sister.

Wanda put the dish up for you to eat as she walked around the station to talk to you more.

“Yeah, Yelena is awesome, and her hair is amazing not to mention she’s hilarious.” Wanda went on and on about her. It was nauseating to you.

“It sounds like you have a little crush on Yelena.” You say continuing to eat your food trying hard not to be annoyed.

“For sure no. I already have feelings for someone else, just trying to figure out if they do too.” She says eyeing you to gauge your reaction.

“Ah well that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” You say trying to hide the way your face fell while quickly getting up to put your dish in the sink.

You couldn’t see but Wanda had hurt written all over her face.

“Yeah, they are this amazing person, they care about me and make me feel like the happiest person in the world.” She gets up sounding angry. In truth she was angry because you couldn’t see it was you.

“Good. Ya know what? Why don’t you go cook dinner for them then, they are probably curious where you sneak off to almost every night.” You say your as your anger rises. You held yourself up on the sink to keep from looking at her.

“You’re so infuriating you know that.” She says in a soft voice looking at you from across the room.

“I’m so infuriating? I love you Wanda and I didn’t do anything about it and now you have another person.” You look up at her with tears in your eyes. You see her staring at you dumbfounded and you wish you could hide under a rock.

“You are the person I’m falling for, you idiot. You’re the only person I will stay up to make dinner for, no matter how tired I am going to be the next day. I love spending time with you, I love you.” She says while coming closer to you and cupping your cheeks.

“You do?” you ask her not believing her.

“Yes, Y/N, I love you.” She said, bringing her forehead against you.

“I am an idiot then.” You chuckle as you bring your mouth so it's ghosting hers, too afraid to go in for the kiss.

She isn’t however and brings her lips up to kiss you. Her lips are soft, but she is putting so much passion into the kiss. You are quick to reciprocate your own feelings in the kiss. You both pull away when you need a breath, keeping your foreheads against each other’s.

“Wanda, would you want to be my girlfriend?” you asked looking into her eyes, not afraid anymore about the doubts that ran through your head. The woman you love, loves you back.

“Of course, Y/N.” and you kissed her once more. After that you grabbed her hand and walked back to your abandoned margaritas to finish your night together.

After that night instead of looking forward to work, you looked forward to the meal you would share with your beautiful girlfriend afterwards.

Taglist:

@b0mbdotc0m @yeetus-thyself @ineedafinghug

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #scarlett witch #wanda #wanda maximoff #the avengers #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel movies

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gothamslittlejester · 4 years

Text

Obsessive Ledger!joker x reader

I’ve been spoiling you all recently with all this Ledger!Joker, so you’re welcome 😎 (but also so sorry because I did go on a hiatus without saying anything for half a year 😬). Let me know in the asks if you want something in particular, I love writing for J so much! I have a few already that I am working on as we speak, so stay tuned for those 💜

Below are headcannons for a more yandere and darker joker than I usually write 👻 nothing abusive here because J is still very much my comfort character, but it definitely includes over-possessive, protective and stalker themes, as well as encouraging reader to join in on his murderous chaos

Warnings: morally ambiguous reader, joining joker on his “fun” i.e. mentions of torturing others, blood, weapons, severed body parts as gifts, implied seggsy time

· Before adoration, fondness or love, the first feelings Joker had for you was pure obsession. Obsession with what you thought and felt, what you liked to do and why you liked to do them. Obsession with your safety and the need to protect you, which led to jealousy and possessiveness very often. It was primal, and longing, and left him thirsting after your presence like a greedy, hungry wolf. He wanted you- needed you- and he was going to get you

·In spite of a period of flirting, suggestive jokes and hinting touches, Joker made it clear pretty quickly what his feelings were for you. Because of his lifestyle death is like a waiting shadow, and wasting time on what he wants is just not his style

· Quite soon into the beginning of your more romantic relationship, you move into his hideout for the sake of your safety, which calmed J down with some of his possessiveness and paranoid thoughts. He knew his home was the safest place in Gotham, excluding Bruce Wayne’s cave, and with you in it that meant you were safe too.

·When he’s gone, he’ll leave a huge shotgun behind for you to use in case of emergency, as well as Chechen’s Rottweilers. You’ll find some stray knives and pointy objects hidden in your coats too, “just in case”, but its more heartwarming to you than annoying

· He loves to lay on you at night, whether it be right on your chest to hear your heartbeat, or on your belly where he can feel your soft skin pressed against his scared cheeks. Not only is it pleasant and lets his touched-starved soul get some attention, but it also makes him hyper aware of every shift or move your body does while asleep. It also prevents you from sneaking out of the bed to run away, which is one of his more paranoid thoughts. Don’t try to move away or push him off, he will smack your hand back and snuggle in deeper, wrapping his arms around you like a snake

· He doesn’t care what insecurities you have regarding your appearance; he admires every single piece of you and will cuddle with whatever he wants, so push your anxieties aside because Joker hungers for all of you

· His gifts can sometimes be very macabre. Generally, he loves to spoil you with an array of things, such as new clothes or lingerie, plush toys of your favorite animals, snacks you said you’ve wanted to try, or even just random knick-knacks he stole from his victim’s homes. However, if he’s feeling adventurous or extra flirty that day, he will bring you certain body parts to symbolize his feelings for you.

· You’ve definitely found your fair share of human hearts in your fridge, because he adores how your heart races when your scared. You’ve found a pair of lungs stuffed in there too, because the little gasps you make when frightened or anticipating his touch are delicious to him. You went to get milk once and right behind the carton was a tongue, symbolizing how much he relishes your little talks and midnight conversations

· Once, he brought over a whole corpse, the body decomposing and gnarled, skin ripped to shreds and a face pummeled so brutally it had concaved. “Don’t need to worry about them any more doll,” he giggled, spitting on the body with a fervor that thrilled you. It took a few minutes of intense staring- why did they look familiar?- but then it clicked in your mind; it was the very person you had fumed and vented to Joker about last night, right before he had spontaneously left

· “J,” you began, eyes nearly popping out of your head. “Did you kill him... for me?”

· “ ‘Course I did, sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know I’d, uh, kill anyone for you. Nasty fucks like them especially-ah.”

· If you have to leave for longer periods of time, whether that be for school or work, Joker will always have a few of his men stalking you from a distance, making sure you’re safe and that no one dangerous is within a 1 mile radius of you. They also have explicit instructions to take photos and send them to J, because he likes looking at your oblivious little face.

· He’d do it himself if he has the time, which he sometimes does, but he too is quite busy with his own things (when anarchy calls, as they say), so hiring lookouts is the next best thing. If he could, he’d have you right by his side at all times… how pretty you’d look in a soft purple leash... but that’s just daydream fuel for now

· Speaking of photos, Joker knows his ways around a camera. He makes... lovely home videos that he sends to news channels in his free time (rip fake batman) and he continues to practice at his craft from time to time. He even won a deepweb award for best snuff film of the year, which boosted his ego to ungodly heights. He’s absolutely delighted about it and hints that you should watch it on one of your movie nights, but he does warn it’s not for the faint of heart

· Taking videos and photos are one of his favorite hobbies, and if you’re down to clown… he’d certainly bring it in the bedroom

· Speaking of his more thrilling hobbies, Joker will constantly suggest you join him on his escapades or help out behind the scenes, especially if he picks up on any sort of interest from you concerning his ‘job’. Joker is an observant man, and he reads you like a book. He knows you likely have some dark, sinister thoughts running around in your head - you must, if you’re with him- so he does everything he can to encourage you to let them out. Joker will never judge this side of you, no matter how grim. He’ll try and harness it, bring it to light. He hates the thought of you shying away from your true self, embarrassed of your darker nature, but what he hates even more is you thinking he’ll be disgusted with you or disappointed. How can you think that?

· “No no no, bunny, not me. You’re my muse, so give me some inspiration hmm? Tell daddy exactly what’s going on in that mind of yours...”

· If you do show interest in the darker side of his job, he’d smile so big that his scars take up his whole face. He’d teach you everything; how to fire a gun, how to stab someone, how to hide a body and how to torture one. He’ll spread out all his weapons on the floor and let you choose which one calls to you, like a deranged ceremony, informing you on the pros and cons of each one. He’ll even invite you into the warehouses he designated just for torture, which are just as gruesome and sinful and they sound

· J let’s you watch as he hurts his victims, whom are purposefully rapists and killers to make you feel less guilty, and let’s you join in on the fun whenever you gain the courage. He even went as far as to buy a whole torture set off the black market, from scalpel to needles, just to give you options. Joker loves to see how creative you can get, and it’s one of the few times he lets you take complete control

· “The floor is yours, bunny. Impress me.”

· He is down for pretty much anything, and that mindset is not exclusive just to the bedroom

·Any couple activity you fear might be too far or creepy for other people… is right around J’s alley. Weird kinks or foreplay games you want to try? No problem. Making love in abandoned houses or cemeteries? Now that’s his type of romance. You want to carry a small vial of his blood around your neck? He is all game, but only if he gets one of you as well. Matching knives? He’s blushing. Satanic blood ritual from a sketchy website that’s supposed to bond your souls for eternity? Perfect, his weekend plans were centered around you anyways

· Now…If he feels that you’re not giving him enough attention or start to push him away, he will resort to crazier means to obtain your love back. He’ll set off random bugs, rats or even henchmen into your home to scare you, gleefully waiting to hear you cry out his name in fear. Like a small, dependent little kitten, mewling for their protector. He’d come in, guns ablaze, looking for whatever scared his darling angel, killing them on sight. You’d run into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you cling to Joker like your life depended on it- just how he liked it. He’d coo mockingly and pull you closer, rubbing your back as he unashamedly basked in your physical touch.

· In general however, your soft caresses, kisses and reassuring words are enough to keep him very pleased. He knows you adore him and are head over heels obsessed just like he is, and that truly does put a smile on his face.

#joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker x reader #joker headcannon #dark knight joker #x reader #dark headcannons #yandere

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Six ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 4044

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy Thursday! Thanks for all your responses so far -- I’m so grateful! Alright, time to see what Haldir thinks of all this!

We are sixteen days into our journey when we reach the mountains.

We made good time, considering all the stops and adjusting for our human guests. Now that I know they are more capable than I anticipated, I will be pushing us to clear the ranges in five days. I do not want to travel these mountains any longer than necessary.

Everyone feels the tension. My right hand never leaves the hilt of my sword and I know my brothers travel in a similar fashion. While I am always careful when traveling through the orc-infested mountains, this time more so than usual. The stakes are higher. Lavandil is trusting me to deliver her betrothed to her in one piece. My brothers and Baranor are trusting me to guide them safely on this treacherous journey. And the humans…

Well. They can’t possibly know what they’ve gotten into, so that’s on me, too. They have no experience in battle, nor do they seem ready for a fight. I worry they’ve never even seen an orc, at least not that they can remember. I am as responsible for them as I am for the kin that accompany me.

I turn on Faervel to face my companions, trusting Orophin to watch my back as I take in those that follow me. My brothers are watchful like I am, one hand on a weapon, one hand holding the reins. Their eyes constantly observe our surroundings, never lingering on one spot for too long. Baranor looks mildly nervous — this is only his fifth pass through the mountains and I know his mind is running through his previous journey, remembering the warden we once nearly lost to a poisoned arrow. A dull ache throbs in my left shoulder. The wound is long ago healed — the memories, however, are not.

Cosima holds tight to Rumil, looking around worriedly. I never told her what we might face in the mountains, and maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Every sound makes her jump — she’s obviously expecting to be attacked at any second.

My eyes shift to Alexander, the most recent addition to our group, and I fight the urge to narrow my eyes. I don’t trust him. Not that I automatically trusted Cosima, but she hasn’t given me any reason to be suspicious. She helps with the chores and talks with us freely, even if she has been pulling back a little lately. Alexander can’t boast the same. He’s been nothing but standoffish and keeps himself isolated from the group — dragging Cosima with him.

He glowers at me, and I return his glare. Of course, mine has the force of nearly three thousand years as Marchwarden behind it, and the human quickly looks away.

I return to my inspection of the group. Cosima’s cloak is a beautiful, vibrant red—obviously made for style rather than the stealth and durability needed for travel. I haven’t the faintest idea why she would choose to dress that way if she knew she’d be traveling, nor what kind of leader wouldn’t catch it and make her change. This only serves to irritate the thought that’s been budding in the back of my mind since her arrival. Maybe she really isn’t from our world. Stranger things have happened. Alexander, too, has an unusual cloak, though not as bad as Cosima’s. His is a deep forest green — expensive, the kind that would take months of precise dyeing. Still a suitable color for travel, but not at all practical — already, it’s darkening with mud kicked up on our journey, ruining the maker’s handiwork. I don’t understand it and the mystery of their origins are too much to ponder on the road. So I resolve to deal with what I can now and handle the rest later. At present, Cosima can’t travel through the mountains in that bright red cloak.

I get her attention. “Put your cloak away in your bag, it’s too noticeable. If you get cold, someone will lend you theirs.” She visibly blanches at my words but balances herself atop Roch to do as I say. She is so clearly frightened and part of me wants to reassure her, to tell her not to worry, it’s just a precaution. But I can’t. Lying might make her feel better, but it would also set her at a disadvantage. It is better for her to be on edge. It will keep her sharp, and staying sharp can be the difference between life and death. I wouldn’t sugarcoat it for one of my wardens, so I won’t sugarcoat it for her.

Still, I can’t help myself from offering her some measure of security. I instruct Rumil to take position behind me and send Orophin to guard the back of our line. Perhaps Cosima will feel better being towards the middle of the group rather than at the very back — it is safer.

I put on my most well-practiced fortifying look and address the group. “Remember to ration your water — we won’t come across another stream for some time. With luck and perseverance, we will reach Imladris in five days. Cosima and Alexander — if we are attacked, stay on your horses. Rumil and Baranor will protect you.”

Rumil chuckles lowly and leans back in his seat to whisper to Cosima. “I can’t keep you safe if you strangle me first. Relax.”

Cosima laughs sheepishly and seems to make a concentrated effort at loosening her arms around Rumil.

I pull my eyes away, turning to look the right way down the path.

And off we go.

{***}

Weather in the mountains is unpredictable. There’s a faint breeze hinting at the possibility of rain, and I pray against it. Humans are so fragile compared to elves and I worry the two newcomers won’t do well in another day of downpour. I don’t mind the harsher conditions, my brothers, either — Valar knows how many drills we’ve run, battles we’ve fought in the extremes. But the humans, even Baranor, aren’t so conditioned.

I stop our company a little later than usual and send Rumil and Orophin to take first watch. Baranor pulls Alexander aside to redress the wound on his leg. Cosima and I stay to tend to the horses.

She glances at me from where she brushes Roch’s coat. I raise an eyebrow, cleaning my own horse. She purses her lips and I can tell that she’s scrutinizing me.

“You don’t like the mountains.”

There’s no point in lying. “No. Too many places for the enemy to hide.”

She’s silent for a moment, likely thinking through my words. Unexpectedly, I feel the bite of regret — I probably just scared her again. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Thankfully though, she doesn’t seem frightened. She smiles, a sort of serenity settling on her. “It’s kind of pretty though, if you can find a moment to enjoy it. Did you see the sun sinking over that peak way in front of us? It turned the sky purple and gold.”

I did notice the sky, but only briefly. I hadn’t even stopped to ponder its beauty, only checked to ensure no one hid on the horizon.

She sees the answer in my face and grins, shaking her head. “Maybe you’ll be able to relax once we reach Imladris. What’s it like, there?”

Now it’s my turn to smile, recalling my second favorite place in the world. “Beautiful — much more so than these mountains. There are waterfalls taller than any I’ve ever seen and they cast rainbows at sunrise and sunset. The main city rests on those falls and you can see the water sweeping under you, falling over the cliffs.”

She stares at Roch’s coat, a distant look in her eye. “How long are you planning to stay?”

You. Her question hangs between us as I analyze her use of the word. She didn’t say ‘we’ or make any reference to herself and Alexander. She’s making no promise to stay. That realization shouldn’t bother me, but, nevertheless, I feel discomfort settle in my stomach. I try to distract myself by answering her question. “A month or two, three at most. The journey home will take about three weeks and I want us in Lothlórien well before winter sets in.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

I blink, trying to follow her line of reasoning. I’ve got nothing. “How does that relate to what I just said?”

She closes her eyes, the peace leaving her and morphing into a pleading, distressed look. “Please just answer the question.”

The feeling in my stomach worsens and I hurry to say something to try and put her more at ease. “Honeyed breadrolls,” I blurt, not even sure if that’s my favorite.

She laughs weakly, looking at me from the side of her eyes. “That’s not a balanced meal.”

I grin, relieved to see the stress beginning to fade from her face. “You said favorite food, not healthiest.”

“Oh right, my bad.” She rolls her eyes, a playful light there that wasn’t present before.

Evidently annoyed with the lack of attention, Roch bumps his head against Cosima’s shoulder, snorting noisily. She giggles and pets the horse affectionately.

“He likes you,” I observe, the sight of them bringing a smile to my face.

Cosima shrugs. “He just wants snacks.”

There’s a pause and I feel a sense of urgency, needing to fill the silence before the conversation can come to an end. “What’s yours?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Hm?”

“Your favorite food.”

“Oh.” She pauses, looking at the ground in thought. When her eyes return to mine, she looks a little lost. “I don’t know. I don’t mind the lembas bread and fruits, though I couldn’t say for sure if it’s my favorite because I can’t remember much from my homeworld. I guess—well, I do remember some food here and there, but nothing stands out as my all-time favorite.”

Her admission seems to make her sad. I can understand that — it must be terrible to not know who you were or what your life was like. Once again, I feel the need to make her feel better. “Elrond won’t let us go hungry. There will be many new things for you to try.”

She opens her mouth, a spark lighting in her eyes, ready to respond.

The loud, heavy footsteps give away Alexander’s approach. Cosima hears it too and turns to see her incoming friend.

I let my face fall into a neutral expression, not entirely pleased with Alexander’s arrival. He is a lost human in need of help, just like Cosima, so I will offer him my protection and aid, just as I did to the woman at my side.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.

From what I’ve observed, he has a manipulative streak that I do not trust. I can understand not being ready to accept his new reality, but Cosima is trying to move on. He shouldn’t try to interfere with her progress.

He addresses Cosima only. “I’ve got dinner for us both. Meet me on the rock when you’re done?”

She shifts her feet, looking uncertain.

“No, you will stay with the main camp.” I hear my voice before I make the actual decision to speak. Cosima nods automatically—and, is it my imagination, or does she look a little relieved?Alexander only grimaces.

“Why?”

A muscle twitches in my cheek. I’m used to leading wardens that follow my every order. In this environment, one that is fraught with danger and requires constant attention and strict regimentation, I don’t like my orders being questioned. It’s not only a waste of time, but a danger to us all. I know well from the battlefield that hesitation—that single moment of questioning—can be the difference between life and death.

I raise an eyebrow, meeting the human’s challenging gaze. “The danger is heightened in these mountains. While you travel with my company, I am responsible for your safety. I will not have you all spread out — it makes it more difficult to protect you should the need arise.”

“I don’t want to sleep on a rock, anyway.” Cosima surprises us both by speaking up.

Alexander squints, looking quite caught off guard that she’s sided against him. “What—“

“Haldir’s right. It’s too dangerous and besides, the grass is softer.”

Alexander opens and closes his mouth a few times, then exhales, shaking his head and stomping back to camp. Cosima turns to Roch and resumes brushing his coat, a new tension in her jaw.

I try to broach the subject delicately. I’m not entirely sure it’s my business, but I suppose any information into the pasts of these mysterious humans is useful. “Do you remember much of your relationship with Alexander from before? Do you know what he was like?”

She closes her eyes—something she does when she’s stressed, I note—and sighs before opening them again. “I’ve been asking myself that a lot recently. I get that this whole…whatever it is, is impossible. I know that. And he does, too, which is why he’s having such a hard time adjusting.”

I bristle at the insinuation that I and my world aren’t real, but then make myself relax, putting myself in Cosima’s shoes. How would I feel if I woke up in a world completely different from the little I could remember?

She continues. “But I like it here. It’s beautiful and exciting and there’s so much to explore…I’m making friends.” She smiles up at me shyly, and I immediately return it. We are friends. I don’t know when or how it happened but we are. I like having her around.

“But with Alex…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time not accepting my life here because it’s all I really know. I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Alex can’t seem to do that…I wonder if he remembers more than he lets on.”

I keep my expression carefully blank. I’ve been pondering the same thing. Something she said does bother me, though. She didn’t say she’s having a hard time accepting our world, but not accepting it. What’s holding her back? I try to dig around. “Cosima, this is your world now. Why wouldn’t you want to accept it?”

She shakes her head slowly, the sadness creeping back. “I can’t accept my life here because there’s no way it’s possible. I trust you and your brothers and Baranor, but something about this place is off. It’s completely unnatural—from what I remember of my world, we don’t have elves. We have cars instead of horses and ways to communicate that stretch across the globe.” Her voice rises in pitch, the first misty hints of tears entering her eyes. “And there’s only one world. There’s no way to go back or forward in time or hop to another planet or—”

“That you know,” I correct, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. Seeing her struggle is not only upsetting, it’s frustrating. She is here, and this world is as real as she is, as real as I am. All this back and forth is pointless. “You said it yourself—you don’t remember much about your home world. And even if you remembered everything, who’s to say that you could know everything? For all you know, you fell asleep in your world and woke up in mine. And, at present, I don’t know of any way to send you back. Elrond or the Lady might, but that’s not a question we can answer until later. So for now, you need to accept this world. Because you are here. This world is real and your life here is real.”

She takes in a shaky breath.

I freeze. Oh Valar. I’ve made her cry.

I hurry to try to undo it. “Cosima—”

“No.” She cuts me off, wiping the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. “I needed to hear that. You’re right. I’m only wasting time and stressing myself out with all this. Because regardless of what I think is logical or possible, the fact remains that I am here in Arda and I feel real and alive. And so does this world. And so do you.” Her eyes, still shiny with tears, meet mine and she offers me a watery smile.

I accept it with a breath of relief and work consciously to soften my tone. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you cry.”

“Oh,” she chuckles softly, still wiping away her tears. “I don’t think it’s your fault. I’m just tired and stressed and—what was it you said again?” She throws me a teasing look and I know she’s about to bring up my earlier comment. “You said I was sensitive. That’s right.”

I hold back a groan. Probably not the most well-advised thing I’ve ever said. “I only meant that you are more expressive with your emotions than I or others that—”

“Nope. I’m gonna stop you right there.” She holds up a hand, thankfully still in a joking mood. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

She’s probably right. So I halt my attempts, shaking my head and laughing at myself. “I suppose I should apologize for that too?”

She shrugs off-handedly. “Nah. Because for the record, about the time you decided I was sensitive, I decided you’re way too serious.”

And, with that, she sets Roch free to graze and jaunts back to camp.

{***}

Aside from the brief interlude with Cosima, I don’t allow myself to relax as we continue through the mountains. There are too many peaks and rocks and caves and crevices where the enemy can hide. All it would take is one well-aimed arrow to fell one of my companions, or myself. I have to be vigilant. They’re trusting me, and I must not let them down.

{***}

On the third night in the mountains, Rumil and Orophin stage a sort of intervention, trying to force me into a full night’s rest.

“Brother, you have stood watch every night for the past five nights and most of the nights before that.”

“I am fine,” I retort, straightening my back. “I am perfectly capable of sacrificing rest to keep watch of our surroundings.”

“But without rest you will grow weary and slow,” Orophin adds, planting himself to stop me from walking past him. “You will not be at your best and cannot keep us safe as you could if you had proper rest.” He raises his voice to drown out my protests. “Rumil and I will stand watch all night—we will be vigilant.”

“Now, go lay down and get a full night’s rest willingly, or Baranor is prepared to drug you.” At this, Rumil smiles broadly. He is only joking. And, capable though Baranor is, I have no doubt in my ability to stop him from forcing herbs into my mouth.

But my brothers have a point. Though I am used to many restless nights from battle and my patrol of the borders, I have not slept for more than a few hours in many nights. I feel the heaviness in my eyes, the weariness in my bones, and, though I know I could push through, it is of no benefit to my company. So, reluctantly, I sheathe my sword, nodding to my brothers. “Wake me if there is any trouble.”

Orophin agrees readily. “Of course. You’ve trained us well.”

At this, I must grin, remembering the countless hours I put into developing and perfecting their skills. “I know.”

I leave the outcropping of rocks that has become our watch station and jog the short distance back to camp.

“Wow, look who’s decided to join us for a change,” Cosima jokes. There’s a note in her voice that tells me she had knowledge of, if not a hand in, my brothers’ plan.

I roll my eyes, matching her teasing tone. “I couldn’t leave the three of you unattended for long—who knows the trouble you could have gotten in?”

“Oh, yeah. Baranor was about to redress Alex’s wound — troublesome, indeed.”

I sit on the empty mat in between her and Baranor, greeting my elven friend with a nod. Alexander doesn’t acknowledge me, so I don’t acknowledge him.

Cosima passes me a bundle of leaves containing a ration of lembas bread and a handful of blackberries. I smile my thanks and take the food eagerly—I haven’t eaten since morning.

“Glad to see you resting, mellon nîn,” Baranor nods in my direction then returns his attention to Alexander’s leg. The herbs and healing power in Baranor’s spirit have done wonders, but the traveling aggravates the wound. Really, he should take a few days to rest, but we do not have that luxury.

Cosima breaks a piece off her own bread. “How long until we reach Imladris?”

“Within three days, I imagine.” It’s an estimate, but a fairly accurate one, I’d wager. After many journeys, I know these mountains quite well.

She smiles. “That’s not too bad.”

“Agreed.” Baranor sighs and nods, indicating that he’s done dressing Alexander’s wound. He returns to his mat on the other side of our bags, completing the circle we lounge in.

A particularly strong gust of wind blows my hair around. Cosima shudders, pulling her blanket tighter over her shoulders — her cloak is still in her bag. Temperature doesn’t bother elves in the same way it does humans, I remember. I shed my cloak of deep grey, holding it out for her to take. “Here.”

Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head vehemently. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to be—”

“Take the cloak, Cosima.”

She bites back a smile, and I know why. Even as I was trying to be nice, I still ended up making it an order. Oops. But it did the trick. She takes the cloak, wrapping herself tightly in it and then adding the blanket for an extra layer of warmth. “Thank you.”

I only nod in response. After all, it’s my job to see that each member of my company is cared for. That includes fragile humans who could possibly die from exposure to the elements. And, thankfully, she does look much warmer now — her shivers have subsided and the wind only has the chance to bother her face, as the rest of her body is encapsulated in a cocoon of cloth.

“So Haldir, what do you do?” Alexander’s direct question catches me off guard, as well as the suspicion behind it.

I bristle. “Pardon?”

Alexander raises his chin, eyes narrowed at me. “What is your job? Because you seem awfully comfortable ordering people around.”

I forget how immature humans can be. I push against the annoyance that rises within me. “I am charged with the protection of my realm.”

“So you left it unguarded?”

I speak through clenched teeth. “I took leave.”

“So if you’re on leave then why are you still in charge? We’re nowhere near your realm.”

I feel my pulse quicken. “The others have accepted my authority. I am the most experienced—”

“Have I accepted your authority? Has Cosima?” He raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Uh, don’t bring me into this,” Cosima practically yelps, pulling the fabric tighter around her.

“Yes, this is a good time to stop,” Baranor interjects, looking completely serene — the exact opposite of how Alexander and I must look.

“It’s getting late,” Cosima agrees, darting nervous looks between me and her human friend. “We should all get some sleep.”

Alexander and I stare each other down. I feel no small amount of pride when he breaks his gaze first, then admonish myself for my immaturity. I should have handled that better — I know better than he does. Unbidden, my eyes dart to Cosima. Has my arguing with her closest friend upset her?

But thankfully, she smiles at me when my eyes meet hers, then reclines on her mat. Her voice rings over the small clearing, effectively ending any discussion between us all for the evening. Probably for the best. “Goodnight.”

And, though I am still angry, my body and mind cannot ignore how exhausted I am after days of insufficient sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to find rest.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there.

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Pregnant s/o hcs: Mirio, Bakugo, Todoroki, Midoriya, Iida, Tamaki

SFW, just super fluffy

Mirio:

If you don’t think this man is tearing up when you tell him... uhhh you’d be wrong

He is crying over you and so happy, will kneel and just kiss your tummy

And when you’re in bed that night going to sleep, every few minutes he will nuzzle in closer and whisper, “hey guess what? We’re gonna have a baby”

Anytime he says he loves you now he says it to your tummy too

“I love you Y/n, I love that you are mine and I love that you’re going to be the mother of my child” *bends down* “And I love you too baby”

He will have a really hard time waiting until the second trimester to tell anyone but once he is able, everyone will know, and he’s going to have a party in your honor.

He will treat you like a queen, back rubs and foot rubs...

I feel like when you first tell him you’re pregnant he will come home a few days later with a box... when you open it, it’s a maternity dress, and its actually really pretty, with lace and silk, and nice and stretchy...

“I know you don’t need it now, but I saw it when I was out and thought it would look perfect on you...”

He will compliment you every second of every day, will trace your stretch marks and tell you they make you beautiful because it’s all part of you becoming a mother, it’s a natural tattoo, a reminder of how you’re growing a life inside you

He will want to throw a gender reveal party

And no, it can’t be as simple as balloons popping out of a box, he’s gotta have something extravagant to celebrate like fireworks, monster trucks, or a paid actor dressed as a baby

You’re having his baby! This is a pinnacle moment in his life and he is not about to have some basic ass party

Mirio is definitely the kind of guy who thinks you can’t have sex because it could hurt the baby, you will have to make a very embarrassing call to your doctor about that...

He is looking forward to owning dad sandals (who are we kidding he prolly already does)

Bakugo:

This man will shit himself, make sure he is sitting down

“Bakugo... I’m pregnant”

“Hah?”

“I’m having a baby! You’re gonna be a dad”

He’s really happy and excited, he has no doubt you’ll be an amazing mom but he’s kinda worried about him being a dad...

Am I fit to raise a kid? Will I be a good dad?

He will probably start working more and almost go on over drive... He will start coming home later, picking up earlier shifts... And when you ask him, “Katsuki, are you not happy about the baby?” He will kinda break down and tell you “No of course I’m fucking happy about the baby, I just want the world to be safe for our kid... and I only have 8 months till then and-” He drops to his knees in front of you and he’s tearing up. You’ll get onto your knees too and just hug him, “Katsuki, you can’t fix the world before we have our baby,” you’ll look at him lovingly as he realizes how absurd he was being. “But we can prepare to be the best parents we can be...” “Prepare? We’re already gonna be the best parents.”

Okay, Bakugo hypes up the baby too, like...

“Katsuki, come here! The baby is kicking!” *he puts his hand on your tummy* “Baby’s so strong, just like us,” *grabs you and kisses you* “I knew we made a fucking perfect kid”

He will try kill anyone who oversteps the boundary with the bump (like touching the bump without asking)

“OI EXTRA, you wanna take your fucking hands off my woman and my kid or do I have to do that for you...”

Bakugo would be very unnecessarily competitive in birthing class

Will wake you up in the middle of the night at least once, he’s just laying on his back staring wide eyed at the ceiling... “What if I explode the baby?”

You’ll roll over and look at him annoyed, “you won't explode the baby,”

He will settle again once you give him cuddles

You cannot tell me that he would not be your biggest cheerleader when you’re actually giving birth, “PUSH, FUCKING PUSH DUMB ASS!”

Todoroki:

This man freaks out for a sec... cuz daddy issues. But he has a strong resolve so he will come out of it quickly and decide how to

“Shoto, you aren’t anything like Endeavor, you’re going to be an amazing dad”

He will be extremely happy, but his excitement will be softer

Everyday after you tell him he says you’re glowing

He will want to cook you special things because it’s healthy for the baby, or so his mother told him

Speaking of his mother, she taught him how to knit when he went to visit her in the hospital so you’ll find him knitting little hats and bootie and jackets for the baby

He will nest just as much, if not more than you do

You’ll find him awake at 3AM trying to put together some bullshit ikea thing for the baby with the tiny allen wrench they give you for free. “Shoto, come back to bed... we can do that in the morning” “But the baby needs somewhere to sleep,” “Yes, and I’m not due for another two months”

Shoto is already so soft but I think he would be softer

Like when you fall asleep on the couch, he gets home and just cuddles up to you and asks your bump how it’s day was. He will talk to the bump until you wake up and then he just pepper your face with kisses.

He is the only one of all these men who doesn’t shit himself and die when watching the birthing tape. I think he would be calm and say something like “a woman’s body is made to carry and deliver a child, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Midoriya:

When you tell him, he’s gonna cry

He will want to call his mom right away

Midoriya is the kinda guy to have a box of his things from when he was a kid stored away to give to his child (it’s all All Might merch but, ya know)

He definitely panics and worries if he is going to be a good father but he takes all that anxiety and just turns it into energy to care for you with

He is already signing you up for birthing classes

This man would take you to all your doctors visits, acupuncture appointments, prenatal massages, and even a strange healing session done in the back room of a health good shop (don’t worry, he checked google reviews, 346 people, and 5 stars) (You weren't sure about it at first, but you felt very at peace afterwards, def worth the 5 star review)

He just really wants you to be happy and healthy

It would be understatement to say he treats you like a queen... he treats you like a goddess, and he tells you everyday how grateful he is that you’re his love and giving him a baby. Especially when you feel insecure about how your body is changing

He will want to make the nursery Hero themed... with an All Might wall decal... you’ll eventually opt for something a little less... exuberant like jungle animals or something. But the compromise is the All Might mobil that spins and says “I am here” while playing twinkle twinkle little star.

He will read to the bump, and sing to it because he wants the baby to know his voice

Will make a ‘goodnight’ song with you for the baby to sing to it every night

Tenya:

Tenya is so excited and immediately starts thinking of things he needs to do for you and baby

The day after he will come home with a bag from the store full of prenatal vitamins and herbal teas that are safe to drink

“My love! I have brought you Evening Primrose supplements, it’s supposed to help with your delivery.”

I think he has name ideas picked out already and is very excited to show them to you. They are all related to the Iida family.

He would ask his brother for advice and would be so excited to tell him when it’s time.

Don’t even worry about pregnancy brain. Iida’s got you, he will help you remember everything you need to know and he will be patient with your cloudy thoughts.

Iida is so matter of fact tho, I can see it coming off as insensitive, especially when you’re dealing with mood swings.

“Darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you it’s just that those chips make your stomach hurt and I was only trying to-” “YOU JUST DONT WANT ME TO BE HAPPYYYY!!!!!!” “My darling, I want all the happiness in the world for you, you are the mother of my child, I- please don’t cry”

He really loves you a lot and he will learn to be a little gentler with you during this phase of the pregnancy

Braxton hicks contractions (the little fake contractions you get during the third trimester, closer to the due date) will send him into panic mode.

But he is also so organized that he is R E A D Y

You clutch your stomach and inhale sharply and sit down, he’s already running to get the hospital bag and getting the keys for the car.

(The hospital bag includes, diapers, baby clothes, blankets, stress balls for you to squeeze during contractions and a birth mix which includes mostly Baroque composers but theres a few taylor swift and harry styles songs because he thinks it would be cool if the baby was born to Adore You, because Iida adores you and that baby so much)

Tamaki:

He is terrified

But ultimately knowing that he has a child on the way actually does wonders for his confidence because he wants his child to have a good example and he doesn’t want the child to inherit his crippling shyness

He really is there for you and much like Shoto, shows it in a soft way

Tamaki is so food oriented already that he is especially considerate of your cravings and would probably try them, no matter how weird they are

Pregnancy makes you super hungry but thats okay because Tamaki is a brilliant cook

Tamaki is also very sensitive to the knowledge that it will change after the baby is born and that he has you all to himself for just a little while longer

He is going to take you on special weekend trips, like a sleepy beach town to just relax and eat good food

He will also take you on extra dates because he just wants to soak up your time together as a couple

He is very aware of how much work you’re doing constantly to carry his child and he will want to spoil you

“Y-you’re just so beautiful, a-and you chose me, and now you’re carrying my child...I just... I love you so much and thank you for letting me be yours b-because you make me so happy.”

He will freak out when he sees the birthing tape

“I-I am so sorry, I can’t believe I’ve put you through this... you’re- you- This is all my fault...” *panic panic panic*

But when you’re actually in labour he is very supportive, he will just apologize while you’re screaming in agony and wish there was something else he could do other than bring you ice chips...

#bnha #mha #mha hcs #bnha hcs #tamaki #iida #deku #midoriya #izuku #katsuki #bakugo #todoroki #mirio #shoto #amajiki #togota

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat.

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused.

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it).

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man.

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it.

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake.

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze.

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

#prompt fill #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jontim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #advent archives #fluff #pining #i will not apologize for the sappiness of this #submit to my jontim agenda #cinnamoniic

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buckysbabygorl · 4 years

Text

Rumours (Pt. 1)

Summary: Y/N and Bucky are all anyone has been talking about. They’re both sick of the ridiculous rumours, but is there some truth to it?

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual themes

Word Count: 3.7K

Part 2

“All the time, Pepper. I’m telling you they flirt all the time. It’s becoming annoying at this point — I mean, of course I support it but if you ask them about it they’re “just friends”. Just friends my ass, they’re gonna get together. I just hope it’s soon so I don’t lose my bet with Sam.”

Pepper laughed at Nat’s rant.

When she asked Nat to lunch, Pepper expected some nice girl talk. Maybe some discussion about missions but certainly not drama; especially not from the world’s most dangerous assassin.

“Well why don’t you tell them that?” Pepper asked, “Clearly they’re oblivious. Y/N and Bucky may be Avengers, but that doesn’t mean they’re superheros of love.” She commented.

Nat rolled her eyes at Pepper’s cheesiness. “Ew, no puns please.”

“Besides,” Nat shook her head as she leaned back in her chair, “What would I say? ‘Hey you’re both in love with each other, hurry up and admit it so I can get my fifty bucks’?”

Pepper giggled as she stabbed her salad, “Well, maybe not like that, but a little push wouldn’t hurt.”

Nat gave her a small nod, “You’re probably right, but I’m not one to mettle.”

“Oh no, of course not.” Pepper couldn’t hide the sarcasm lacing her tone, which made her the receiver of a glare from the red headed agent.

“I’m just saying-” she started, biting into her snack as Pepper waited patiently for her to finish. “—They’d totally fuck.”

This was not heard properly through a mouthful of muffin: evident as shock coated Pepper’s face.

“Wait, what did you say?” Pepper’s eyes lit up as she whispered, “They’ve slept together?!”

Nat choked on a chocolate chip. She tried to shake her head, correcting Pepper’s major mishearing.

“Wait what? N-”

“Nat!”

She didn’t get far as she was interrupted. The women turned as the voice echoed in the cafeteria. They watched as Sam approached them, who was clearly looking for the assassin present.

“Tony’s asking for you.” Sam explained, “Something about suit testing?”

Sam smiled as he turned to her company, “Hi Pepper.”

“Hi Sam.”

Nat stood quickly, not one for being late.

“Right, I almost forgot.”

As she started walking off, she turned and saluted goodbye to Pepper.

“Sorry, duty calls. Thanks for lunch, remind me to catch up with you later.”

Pepper smiled and waved goodbye. As the two Avengers departed, Pepper directed her attention back to what little food she had left. Little had they known, an onlooker had become very interested in their discussion.

Y/N and Barnes? How could she possibly ignore such hot gossip?

The receptionist from the table over leaned to Pepper from her seat. “Not to be nosy… but did I hear that right?” She asked.

“Hear what right, sweetie?” Pepper responded.

The young woman looked around to see who was listening, clarifying when she realized no one had heard.

“Sergeant Barnes and Agent L/N, are they really a couple?”

Now, Pepper was a professional woman. A COMPOSED, professional woman. She worked the hard 25/8 and was married to the most infuriating (but delightful) man of all time. She considered herself to have many virtues, many personality traits to be proud of. But the tendency to gossip? Maybe that could be her one vice.

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘couple’,” Pepper confessed, “but certainly from what I’ve heard, there’s something there.”

“Oh my gosh,” the woman said, scooting her chair closer to Pepper, “I’ve seen it too. They always sit together at lunch; they never train without each other; all the joking around and flirting at meetings—but I had no idea they were sleeping together!”

Pepper smirked, “Don’t forget, their living quarters are on the same floor!”

The young woman gasped before she was rudely interrupted by her wrist watch. An alarm blared, alerting her their gossip would have to halt for now.

“Ugh, break’s over. But thanks for the talk Mrs. Potts, I swear the secret is safe with me!”

Pepper chuckled as she directed her attention back to her salad. As the young woman left the tables and headed towards the elevator, she pulled out her phone. Dialing quickly, she made a call.

“Hey, Monica? You’re not going to believe this—”

Bucky sat in Tony’s lab, anxiously waiting for this fix to be over. It was already 1:43, her lunch was usually over at 2. Was he gonna make it? He wasn’t gonna make it—

“You know, your fidgeting is actually making it harder for me to finish. So maybe if you could sit still for 5 seconds, I’d let you out in time to see your girlfriend.”

Bucky scowled at Stark’s remark.

“I question your capabilities if you can’t handle a little fidgeting.”

Bucky rolled out his free shoulder; his back cramping from his position on the table.

“And I don’t have a girlfriend,” he defended, “I’m just hungry.”

“Whatever,” Stark grumbled, “Y/N is busy with Barton anyways for target practice, she’ll probably go for lunch the same time you do.”

“Never said I was meeting Y/N,” Bucky grumbled.

“You didn’t need to, I’m not an idiot.”

Tony set his tool down, taking the small panel from the tray beside him and placing it back into its proper position on the soldiers arms.

“And even if I was,” he continued, “I’m not blind.”

The soldier huffed in annoyance but said nothing. This wasn’t the first time he had heard this spiel. Y/N and Bucky constantly had to defend their relationship to everyone in the compound. It started back when Y/N and Bucky both joined the team. Bucky was slowly gaining Tony’s trust, and Y/N had been promoted from desk jockey to field agent. They bonded over being newbies in an already-set hierarchy, and from that blossomed talk of a ‘spark’ that apparently everyone had noticed but Y/N.

Us, Bucky corrected himself, everyone but us.

“We’re just friends. I’ve told you countless times.”

Tony smirked as he adhered the panel back to the prosthetic. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Cat’s outta the bag on that one Barnes.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he looked down at Tony.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tony looked up at him. The man was not one for subtlety; his face blatantly showing Barnes he didn’t believe him for a second.

“Come on. You can’t be the only one that hasn’t heard.”

Bucky shook his head. This couldn’t have been different from the normal; nothing had developed in his and Y/N’s relationship, nothing he was aware of anyway. Was this some inside joke he wasn’t in on?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Stark wiped away the debris from the panel, giving a once over to see if he had missed something.

“Everyone’s been talking about your little sex-capades with our lovely Y/N. Apparently you’ve been having quite the time together. And on company property! Could make serious money off of those security tapes.”

Though Tony meant it as a joke, Bucky didn’t find it very funny. If anyone had been talking shit about Y/N; he was going to snap.

“Stark you better not be joking about this, I swear to God.”

Tony looked up from the prosthetic.

“As funny as I am, this I’m not joking about. You and L/N have been a pretty hot topic. If you haven’t heard anything yet, you’re bound to hear the worst of it soon.”

“The worst of it?! Like what?”

“Okay easy kid, you’re denting my table.”

Bucky looked down at the table beneath him, realizing he’d been gripping the edge with his metal arm. He released it, leaving a deep hand print in the steel.

Tony sighed at the damage, but ignored it for the moment.

“If you want details, go talk to Sam. That’s who I heard it from.”

Bucky frowned, “Sam? He started this?”

“God no,” Tony laughed as he ran a hand over the dented table. That was gonna be a bitch to get out.

“He’s too dumb to be that creative, I think he heard it from some agents. Maybe the receptionist Gwen? I’m not sure, I’m not one to gossip.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and hopped off the lab table. Tony called after him as he left but his mind was too focused to internalize it. He needed to find Sam, or at least someone who could actually give him answers about what the hell was going on.

“Damn it!” Y/N yelled.

Another shot too far to the left, she was never going to get it right. Clint chuckled from the sidelines as she set up another arrow.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough for today. You’re going to drive yourself crazy.”

Y/N grumbled, setting her bow and arrow holster in Clint’s outstretched palm.

“I just want to get this down, I keep messing up.”

“For your first session, I’d say you killed it. Besides, you’re not going to be perfect your first few times. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Clint patted her shoulder in comfort, knowing how the wheels were turning in her brain. She was a perfectionist; you had to be in this line of work. But Clint knew this skill came with time; even Nat couldn’t perfect a shot in one day. Not that Clint would ever tell anyone, of course. Nat would kill him.

“Thanks Clint. I appreciate your help.” Y/N started to pack up her things and leave, “you wanna go for lunch? Buck should have a table for us by now.”

Clint smiled to himself, of course Bucky would have a table.

Clueless dork.

“I’ll have to pass, I’m working with Bruce today. He thinks he’s perfected new hearing-aids for me. I’m actually really excited.”

She smiled at his words; it had been a long time coming for Clint to get some half decent help with this. She knew how much it meant to him.

“Clint, that’s great! No worries about lunch then, I’ll catch you later?”

Clint nodded at her fleeting figure, turning his attention back to his own training. Y/N started to text Bucky as she exited the range before she collided into another body. Looking up, she realized it was her favorite little Avenger.

“Oh, hey Pete. Didn’t expect to see you here today.”

Peter beamed brightly at her, eager for some social interaction.

“Hey Y/N, is Mr. Stark in there? I’ve been meaning to talk to him about my new suit, web-shooters aren’t working and I can’t seem to figure it out.”

Y/N smiled at him as he blabbed on about build up in the formula; she always loved hearing about Peter’s and Tony’s father-son relationship. Like a kid asking for help on a science project, it was adorable and pure.

“No, he’s not in there.” She said, “I think he’s in the lab with Bucky. I’ll walk you down.”

“Oh okay, thanks Y/N.”

It wasn’t long after they began their walk down the hallway that Peter piped up again.

“Oh, and by the way. I’m really happy to hear about you and Sergeant Barnes! You always seemed like a good match. Though he’s always seemed really grumpy to me, but if that’s what you’re in to--”

Y/N let out a laugh that stopped Peter’s rambling.

“Sorry to burst your bubble kid, but Bucky and I are just friends.”

Peter was confused, obvious given his puppy dog expression.

“But—that’s not what Agent Hill was saying.”

Hill? Talking about her and Bucky? Doubtful.

Y/N stopped in her tracks; lifting her arm up in front of Peter to stop his as well.

“Pete, what exactly did Hill tell you?”

She could see the gears turning in his head.

“Well,” he started, “Agent Hill said that she had been talking to Agent Brackston, and she said that he had heard from Mrs. Jane in analytics that-”

“--Cut to the point kid.”

Peter nodded, he was taking too long.

“Well apparently everyone has said you two are together now, officially. Because you’ve been um—been intimate.”

Peter’s voice trailed of at the last word, choosing silence as the safer option… considering the look on Y/N’s face. Not exactly angry, but terrifying enough to put fear in any walking man.

Y/N was at a loss for words. Where was all of this coming from?

She placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, a slight hardness in her eye, her touch firm.

“Pete, you’re my favorite. And because you’re my favorite, you are going to tell me everything you know.”

She smiled at Peter, Peter gulped.

“Now, let’s walk.”

Sam sat perched in his barstool of the lounge.

“What to do,” he thought aloud, “what to do?”

Should he tell Bucky first, or Y/N first?

Sam loved to get a rise out of people, all in good fun of course. He had to think of who would evoke the more entertaining reaction?

Y/N could either get overly flustered or overly aggressive. Bucky, he knows, will be overly aggressive straight away. But was it worth the freakout he’ll deliver?

Sam heard footsteps rapidly pacing down the corridor; apparently the decision had been made for him.

“Sam.”

Sam smirked as he turned in his stool.

“Barnes!” Sam greeted.

Bucky was furious, his trail blazing behind him.

“Start talking.”

Sam feigned innocence, a hand placed over his heart in concern.

“About what pal?”

Bucky nearly growled.

“You know damn well what about. The hell do you get off spreading lies about Y/N and I?’

Sam shook his head, “I haven't been spreading shit. I only told Stark, if he tells anyone that damage is his doing.”

Bucky scoffed, “Damn it Wilson, take this seriously. This is embarrassing. I have no idea what’s going on: you could at least be decent enough to tell me what’s been said.”

Sam sighed at his friend’s begging. That stopped being fun faster than he thought it would. Sam meant all his talk to Stark in good fun, but when he sees this upsetting the tin-can as much as it does, he nearly felt guilty.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what’s been said. Do you want the grapevine? Or the details?”

“Details first. Grapevine after, so I know who to kill.”

Y/N was fuming. For the past half hour she had been storming through the compound, everyone’s eyes had been on her no matter where she went. Where the hell was Bucky?

Nothing had ever changed. It was always the usual. People extrapolated the normal shit; the missions, the talking, the training. Hell, they’d dance together at Stark’s galas and maybe something new was said about the two. But it had never been like this. The conclusion she had come to, was that regardless of this whole stupid rumor runaround, it must’ve come from either her or Bucky; because how else would the narrative have changed. It sure as hell wasn’t her that said something; so now she was on the hunt for the winter soldier.

Y/N couldn’t press the buttons fast enough as she stormed into the elevator. Felicia said the last she saw of Sam was when he was heading to the lounge. And if Sam was there, so was Bucky.

She felt her anger pent up in her fists, mad heat radiating off her so hot she would have melted the elevator shaft.

As the elevator arrived at her level she had to restrain herself from barrelling through the doors.

“BARNES! WILSON!”

“Oh no, someone’s not happy.” Sam joked. Bucky groaned internally, after what he’d just been told he could not face Y/N. This was so much worse than he thought it was.

“Think I can escape?” He asked.

Sam shook his head, “Not unless you’ve suddenly acquired super-speed.”

Y/N stomped to the boys, grabbing Bucky’s arm and pulling him towards the adjoining hallway.

“We need to talk. Now.”

Bucky was much stronger than Y/N, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not when she was as angry as she was. He hadn’t seen her this pissed since he went on a raid without his cevlar vest.

She released him, poking a finger into his chest with a stern look. “Start talking.”

Bucky sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Okay so, from what I’ve heard—”

“—I don’t give a damn what you heard. What did you say?”

“What?” He blurted.

“What did you say!? You clearly told someone something that made them think we were together.”

“Seriously? You think I would do that?!”

“No! Of course not! But I haven’t told anyone anything, and nothing has ever changed in the way people have talked about us since today. I didn’t say anything to anyone. So you must’ve Buck. So think about it! What the hell have you said to someone today?!”

Bucky groaned as he leaned his head back, “Y/N, I haven’t seen anyone all day except you this morning, and then Stark for my arm. And he is the one that told me what’s been going on, so that doesn’t make any sense.”

Y/N was taken aback, “But Peter said that Hill said that--”

“Y/N, don’t worry about the grapevine. It doesn’t matter anymore, things have already gotten so out of hand.”

Y/N’s head ducked in embarrassment; she so eagerly jumped on this bandwagon of gossip, going so far as to accuse her best friend. Some friend she was...

Bucky saw the change in her face, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulders. He was pissed but he didn’t need to take that out on her. It was just some stupid misunderstanding. “I promise I didn’t say anything to anyone. I know you wouldn’t either. It’s just some stupid game of telephone.”

Y/N smiled, he knew exactly how to bring her back when she got in her head. She rested a hand on top of his, running her thumb over his knuckles. Rough and calloused from years of violence; but gentle. Always gentle.

“So you didn’t say anything?”

He released her arms, at ease that she wasn’t upset anymore. “No, of course not.”

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall facing him. She tried to calm herself. She let her head rest, thinking how things could have gotten so out of hand.

“People have always thought we’re together. This can’t be any worse than it’s been before. Right?”

Her fear came back when Bucky didn’t respond.

“Right, Buck?”

She saw him tense up as he tried to look anywhere but her.

“Barnes. It’s not that bad—right?” She was practically begging him to lie to her.

Bucky grimaced, he didn’t like when she used his last name. “Honestly Y/N, it’s pretty bad.”

“Oh god,” she cried, “what have you heard?”

He cringed at the question; he didn’t want to have to say it. Especially when it was about... them... like that. “Don’t make me tell you. Please don’t make me tell you.” He turned away from her, embarrassed they were even having this conversation.

“Barnes, tell me right now.”

He felt himself giving in; with those big eyes pleading him he knew he couldn’t keep it from her. “They’re telling stories about us that haven’t happened. It’s not just rumours of this or that, it’s like- it’s like ‘people have walked in on us’ kind of thing.”

“What?! You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” He was just as annoyed as she was, and he was ashamed to be talking to any dame like this. Let alone Y/N.

Bucky mirrored Y/N’s position; leaning back on the other hall wall.

“What are the stories?” She asked.

“Sorry?” He must have misheard her, surely she’s not actually asking for detail.

“I said, what are the stories? We’re adults. We can talk about it—”

“—Y/N come on, I don’t want to talk about this. It’s weir-”

“Buck please, it’s me.” She pleaded, “Can you please just do this for me?”

He looked over her features, eyes begging for honesty and lip in a subtle pout. He hated himself for it; but Bucky couldn’t say no to her.

“Alright, well…” he started, “Sam told me that one of them—”

A groan interrupted him, “—there’s more than one?”

Bucky looked at her, defeated. “Doll, you know I would’ve stopped them if I could’ve.”

“I know, I know—I’m sorry.” She muttered, “Continue.”

He cracked his knuckles; a nervous tick he’d developed over this years. “There’s one about us... in Tony’s lab. Someone said they’d walked in on us, trying to see what my arm could ‘really do’.”

“Oh god—”

“Yeah, I’d had you hoisted up with my metal arm while I was, you know—“

Y/N gestured for him to elaborate. He sighed, “—you know, fingering you with the other.”

Her eyes shot open as she looked to the ground. Like she said, they were adults, they could talk about it. Talk about having sex in the third person, somewhat. He continued the story; and she was listening, of course. But she could also picture it... Her hands over his shoulders as he held her up, head rolled back as she moaned his name.

She cleared her throat, ridding the thoughts from her mind. “Okay, well that’s not that bad.”

Bucky nodded, eager to minimize the awkwardness. “Yeah, could be worse.”

“What are the others?”

“Y/N don’t, I-”

“Oh stop, we’ve gotten this far just tell me the rest.”

“Fine.” He ran his hand over his stubble, trying to remember the details… not that he could truly forget them. “Sam also said there’s one about us in the gym. I had you bent over the bench press, spanking you as I fucked you—” Bucky stopped himself for a moment, surprised at how vulgar his language had gotten. “—fucked you from behind. Saying stuff like, “you like that baby, am I fucking you good?””

Y/N choked out a laugh, “oh.”

Now that was an image, Bucky gripping her hips tightly. Hands roaming over her backside, whispering the dirtiest things in her ear.

She looked down to the ground, feeling the heat in her face worsen. “Crazy, the uh—imagination of everyone huh?”

This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky. Could this, possibly, be turning her on? He took in her stance; the fidgeting, the avoiding eye contact, the red in her cheeks. He could practically hear her heart pounding from the other side of the hallway. Or was that his own?

Poke the bear Buck, he thought. There’s only one way to find out…

He didn’t need her encouragement to begin the next story, “Apparently the new recruits have walked in on us in the showers. We were both soaking wet, fucking hard. I had your legs wrapped around my waist and my hands were pinning your arms above your head. You were screaming like crazy, begging me for more. They said I nearly tore the tile off the wall from how hard we were going.”

Buck’s dripping wet body pressed against hers, as he rut his hips at a relentless pace. Her moans echoed in the shower as she raked her nails across his back. He felt the deep scratches trailing down his skin and deep groan escaping his chest, as he quickly grabbed her wrists to pin them above her, never losing his pace. “Keep it up doll, and you’ll get punished for that.”

She was lost, thinking unspeakable things of the man only 5 feet away from her.

Bucky knew now, he could feel the tension building up in both of them. His breath quickened, excitement felt electric in his skin. Are you picturing it now, he thought.

Bucky stepped closer to her, “Another is that a receptionist walked in on us after a meeting, I’d picked you right up as soon as everyone walked out, couldn’t keep my hands off you for more than a second. I’d torn off your blouse and marked the hell out of you, just completely covering you in bruises. Didn’t even stop when she walked in, they said.”

“Oh god, Bucky” she moaned as he worked away at her collarbones. His hands were harsh on her waist as she pulled at his brown locks. His stubble scraped over her skin as he bit and sucked the soft skin of her chest. “Careful baby,” he whispered, “don’t want someone to hear…”

Y/N snapped back to reality, realizing how close Bucky had gotten. His tongue trailed along his bottom lip, pulling the lip gently between his teeth as he watched her. Those pretty lips, he thinks. Those eyes.

“Imagine that? Being so caught up in each other we don’t even stop…”

Y/N’s heart was racing, her breath catching in her throat as the low rumble in his voice only further pulled her in.

“Even now, people probably think I’ve just pulled you away... because I can’t keep my hands off you for a goddamn second.”

She felt the heat in his hands as they hovered over her hips, gingerly placing them before he pulled her to him. He was trying to be careful, so damn careful as to not to break the moment.

“I could just… pin you against this wall, effortlessly. Take you slow, just so I can get a damn good look at you. So I could feel you. Really feel you.”

The look in his eyes could only be described as sinful, she had never seen him this intense. It wasn’t a story anymore, he was telling her exactly what he wanted to do.

She slowly wrapped her hands around his biceps, biting her lip gently.

He could see the lust in her eyes; pupils blown wide as he’d captured all of her attention. There was a hitch in her breath as his lips ghosted over hers, the close contact sending shivers through his own body. Bucky nearly moaned, the sight of her was boarderline erotic. You’ll be the end of me, he thought, as his forehead rested against hers.

“You really think that’s what they’re saying?” Her voice low and sultry, “or is that what you want?”

Bucky bowed his head, lips directly by her ear, “what do you think?”

His teeth bit at the lobe of her ear, and he felt her nails dig into his skin. He was done playing now—

“BARNES!”

The two jumped, and turned towards the voice.

Sam was coming down the hallway, ending a call as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

“Steve’s looking for you, somehow you two have turned this whole place upside down with all the rumour—”

Sam stopped abruptly. As he took in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t stifle his smile.

“Am I—uh—interrupting something?”

Y/N and Bucky looked back to each other, separating themselves quickly. They struggled to explain themselves, avoiding eye contact with each other.

“No Sam, you’re not.” Y/N stammered. Her eyes rallied between the two boys, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck as she wrestled for an excuse.

“Um, I’ve gotta go find Nat. Just gonna—uh—talk to her about some things.”

Y/N hustled past Sam, hoping to act more composed than she felt.

Once she was out of sight, Bucky turned to scowl at Sam.

“Are you kidding me Sam?”

Sam howled with laughter, hand over his chest as he bent forward.

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You idiot! You have the worst damn timing!”

Sam continued to laugh, struggling to speak through the tears.

“I’m sorry, I have the worst timing? You decided to make a move, while trying to convince everyone you’re NOT fucking?”

Sam continued his beltering down the hall, Bucky trailing close behind.

The soldier huffed again, mumbling “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you” as he followed.

Part 2

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