#i saw somewhere that is no shame reblogging your own work so here we are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Sleepover

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, somniphilia, unprotected sex, pre-existing relationship

This is dark!Steve Rogers x reader (side of Sam Wilson x reader) in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader stops at a safe house but isn’t as safe as she thinks.

Note: Pretty much I wanted to make the trope “there was only one bed” dark, so I did. Reading the warnings. Last chance.

Also saw that @mcudarklibrary was having a somniphilia theme for August and September so thought this could be a contribution!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The safe house was small but it would do. It was just you for the night until you headed to the rendezvous and found your way back to New York. A week of reconnaissance and several days of retreat and you could have slept in the grass. Well, it wasn’t much better.

A double mattress on the floor between the narrow counter and table that folded into the wall. The bathroom was barely more than a closet. A tight shower and a floating sink beside the small toilet. You weren’t entirely sure why this was on the list of assigned safe points but it had been the closest.

You set your bag on the counter and unzipped it as you flipped on the light in the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you answered as you pulled out the cotton tank and sweats you’d wear after a hot shower. The clothes you had on were better off burned than washed.

“Baby, I’ve been tryna call all day.” Sam didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“You know I’m on a mission, right?” You asked as you went into the bathroom and dropped your clothes on the closed toilet seat. “I can’t be on my phone all day.”

“Thought you were headed to the safe house?”

“I’m there now but it took a while,” You reached for the shower faucet but paused as you heard a rumble in the distance.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam purred. “Maybe we could have a little fun on the phone tonight… Facetime?”

“What the--” You went to the window as the roaring of the motor grew louder. You pulled back the thick curtain and peered out. You sighed. “Sam.”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“How much fun are we gonna have with my chaperone here?” You sneered.

“What do you--”

“Steve.” You said plainly as you watched Steve killed the engine and wheel his bike around the back of the house. “I can’t believe you.”

“I swear it wasn’t me, baby.”

“Mhmm, and you also didn’t tell him to tail me in Rome.” You huffed.

“That was different.” Sam argued. “I promise, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“You have fun alone.” You said. “Distance makes the heart grow… fonder, is it?”

“Baby--”

“Love you.” You sang and hung up before he could respond.

You really did love Sam but he could be overbearing. At first, being fellow agents had been fun and dangerous. But as things grew more serious, he acted more and more like a babysitter. You both took the same risks, you didn’t understand why he was anymore worried about you than himself.

You placed your phone on your duffel as you carefully stepped around the mattress that took up much of the space. You opened the door a crack as footfalls crept around the side. You pushed it open entirely as Steve came into site.

“Steve,” You greeted as you crossed your arms.

“Oh,” He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t see your… car?”

“In the trees,” You nodded to the nearby forest. “Precautionary.”

“I… shit, I didn’t know you were here. I was just in the area on intelligence and needed somewhere to crash.”

“Mhmm,” You held open the door for him as he approached. “You sure someone didn’t tip you off?”

He blinked at you and turned back as he entered. You followed and locked the door.

“You mean Sam? Come on, after Rome, he can deal with his own paranoia.”

You squinted at him and sighed.

“Well, if you can’t tell, there isn’t much room.” You waved to the small space. “More a shed than a house.”

“Geez, yeah,” He looked around. “Well, I can--”

“It’s fine. These things happen. I’m sure you’ve slept on worse.” You shrugged. “Almost thought I’d be in my car for the night.”

“As long as it’s not too much of a bother.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“It’s one night. Won’t hurt anyone.” You said. “I’m just gonna get cleaned up and lay down. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can.”

“Alright,” He put his bag down next to yours. “I’ll try to do the same.” He unzipped his bag. “Save some hot water for me.”

You gave a thin laugh and went back into the bathroom. You closed the door but it didn’t click. You tried several times and found the latch broken. You huffed and cranked the faucet. The shower whined and the water pattered down against the old porcelain.

You undressed, careful to keep an eye on the small space between the door and the frame as you did. You stepped behind the curtain and the rings rang against the rod as you pulled it into place.

You sighed as you melted beneath the hot water. You let the steam swallow you up and scrubbed your skin clean. You stepped out and took one of the half-dozen towels hidden away in the cupboard.

You let out a ‘whew’ as you dried off and dressed quickly. You walked out with the towel and draped it from a knob on the counter.

Steve turned away from the window. It was dark outside already. He smiled awkwardly.

“You done in there?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” You nodded and grabbed your phone as you let him past. The place was even smaller with him there.

You dropped down onto the bed and your screen it up with a notification. It was Sam. ‘Babe? Hello?’ You unlocked the phone and found several other messages.

‘Was in the shower. Looks like a long night with the old captain.’ You replied.

‘Hey, nothing to do with me. Promise. I’d check in myself ;)’

‘Sure, sure.’

‘Come on, baby, don’t be like that.’

‘Even if it wasn’t, night’s kinda ruined.’

‘Just don’t let him see ;P’

You shook your head and lowered the phone. The shower groaned in the next room and your stomach fluttered. It would be difficult but you did miss Sam terribly; in many ways.

‘I can’t.’ You typed as you listened to the stream of water. The door hadn’t caught for Steve either and upon a glance you saw his blurry silhouette behind the curtain. Sam was quick to respond.

‘You’ve done worse, baby. You remember Rio ;P’

‘I regret Rio’. You giggled under your breath, the memory of the humid hideaway and your little escape with Sam as Bucky kept watch. You were still certain he’d spotted you on his surveillance.

‘He’s an old man. He’ll probably sleep early.’

‘You realise this house is tiny. I’m surprised he fit through the door.’

‘But I miss you :)’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘I know you miss me more. Can’t wait for this sugar.’

You barely stifled your laughter as the shower stopped and you texted Sam a heart eye emoji before flipping to another app. You knew Sam wasn’t going to let up but it would be awkward enough spending the night here in such close confines with Steve. You and him were rarely alone; you usually had the buffer of Bucky or Sam. You’d always found the First Avenger a little stringent; tight-lipped and a bit of a hard ass.

Your eyes flicked up as the door opened all the way and Steve stepped through. You cleared your throat and glanced back at your phone. He only had the towel around his waist. You crossed your legs and scrolled through your timeline.

“Forgot my clothes out here,” He said. “It’s been such a long day, it’s all slipping my mind.”

“No worries,” You kept your eyes on your phone as he gathered up a bundle from his bag and fled back to the bathroom.

You blinked and finally lifted your head. Your phone buzzed and you looked down. ‘You got me all worked up.’ Sam included an eggplant at the end and you quickly swept away the bubble. Steve emerged in a pair of track pants and an A shirt that did little to conceal his muscular torso as the fabric was stretched taut.

He shoved his dirty gear in his bag and fished around for his own phone. He neared the other side of the mattress and gave a doubtful look at the space beside you.

“Um, sorry if it’s a bit cramped.” He lowered himself carefully. “You know, about seventy-odd years ago, you wouldn’t even have noticed me.”

You chuckled and shimmied over to give him more space as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“It’s fine. Sam’s a bed hog. I’m used to it.” You assured him.

“Oh, yeah, I learned that once.” Steve scoffed. “This place in Germany. A lot like this one. He’s not very accommodating.”

“No, not when it comes to sleep,” You muttered.

“Chatterbox,” Steve remarked as he unlocked his phone. “As is Bucky today… uncharacteristically.”

Your own phone buzzed as Steve opened up his messages. You lifted your own screen and cautiously swiped up. ‘How long til he’s asleep? I’m so hard it hurts.’ Sam’s message had you framing the phone with your hand in shame.

‘Don’t get me worked up,’ You warned as you shifted beside Steve.

‘I was just looking at those photos you sent on Valentines. I can’t help myself.’

‘Stop :/’

‘You know I can’t. That little outfit was too much. Tell me you still have it.’

‘He’s going to see. Stop.’

You coughed and flipped your phone as you sensed movement along your peripheral. You peeked over at Steve but he just stared at his phone as he typed with his thumbs slowly. Maybe you were overly paranoid. You looked at your screen again.

‘You look just as good without it.’ Sam’s text made your stomach knot.

‘You never seemed too picky :P’

‘I bet you look just as good now. What are you wearing, baby?’

You wanted to laugh at him. You weren’t exactly dressed to the nines. ‘Sweats and a tank. Very sexy.’

‘Oo u know I love ur ass in sweats’.

‘Haha, sure’.

You heard a growl from beside you and quickly lowered your phone. You looked at Steve as he shook his head at his own cell.

“Sorry, Bucky’s just… being Bucky.” He blackened his phone and sat up. He tucked it under his pillow and yawned. “I think I’m just going to sleep. I’ve been on the road all day.”

“Sure,” You said. “I’ll get the light.”

“You don’t have to sleep yet.” He slid down onto his back. “I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m pretty tired myself.” You said.

You left your phone on the mattress as you stood and pulled the string of the hanging bulb. The space went black and you carefully toed your way back to the bed. As you got onto the mattress you nearly landed on Steve and apologized as you righted yourself. You fished out your phone as you laid atop the covers.

“Night,” You said as you held your phone to your stomach.

“Night,” He echoed.

You rolled onto your side, your back to him, and dimmed your screen. You unlocked your phone again. ‘When you get home, I’m taking you to dinner and you’re not wearing panties.’

‘Ur so bad.’

‘Not as bad as you, baby’.

'You really gotta stop. I need sleep.'

'I'll leave you alone if you send me something to tide me over ;)'

'Steve is right here'.

'When he's asleep. Trust me, he's out like a light after dark.'

'I'll try… no promises.'

You hid your phone and listened. Steve barely moved and you could only hear his breath as it slowed to a steady lull.

You rolled onto your back an glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and no tension marred his face. You bit the tip of your tongue and sat up.

You kept watch over him as you opened your camera. You turned on your flash and flipped it around. You had one shot in the dark. You pulled down your tank top, goosebumps as the fear of getting caught tickled your skin. You lined up your finger and clicked as you gave as coy a look as you could manage.

Flash, snap, you quickly laid back down and pulled up your shirt. You were on your side as you checked the pic. Not bad… you sent it and held in a giggle. Your phone buzzed not long after.

'Oh baby that will def get me thru the nite'. You sent a heart and a kissy emoji in reply and told him you had to go to sleep.

He returned the sentiment and you set your phone on the floor, content to wait until your homecoming for a release of the heat pooling in your core.

You closed your eyes and yawned. You really were tired.

💤

Steve sighed. She was asleep. He could tell as her heart slowed and her breaths evened out. He had fought to keep still until she did; as she had continued her texting, and even as she had chanced to take that naughty photo. And right beside him!

It was hard to keep his cool as he laid next to her. As she got out of the shower, he’d chanced to look up and see her through the crack of the door before she wrapped herself in a towel. And then he had barely been able to keep his eyes on her face as her nipples stuck out beneath the cotton of her tank.

And next to her. Her warmth seeping into him. He could sense her nerves as Sam goaded her through her phone. As she did a poor job at hiding her screen and he pretended to be distracted by her own. She had completely missed that he’d open the tracking app with the little dot that blipped right over them. The very one that told her where she was at all times.

It’s how he found her all alone in the safe house. Convenient that it was so small but he had a plan either way. He’d been fantasizing about this very moment for months. Close to a year. Every time he saw her it got harder to act normal. Often he just shut down and went quiet. And seeing her with Sam…

His hand was on the waist of his track pants, fingertips picking at the elastic. He’d been hard all night, at this point, throbbing. He flinched as his hand brushed his erection through his pants. He let out a strained breath through his teeth and shivered.

He peeked over at her. In her sleep, she’d turned on her side to face him. She looked peaceful and yet a shadow of that naughty grin she’d given to her phone remained. Steve began to rub himself through the thin crotch of his track pants. He groaned. Looking at her, it felt even better. Her airy snores, just a hiss between her pouted lips, kept time as he stoked himself.

His other hand grasped hers. What was he doing? He dragged her hand from where it laid bent before her chest and he pushed it down until it was next to his. He slid it beneath and held it to his hard dick as it twitched. He swallowed a grunt as he used her palm to pleasure himself.

She murmured and he let go of her. Her hand fell between them but she didn’t wake. She fell onto her back and brought her arm up over her head, her elbow barely missing his temple. She grumbled and her breaths petered out once more. He watched her for a moment and admired the way her tank top had been pulled askew and her sweats had rolled lower on her hips.

He couldn’t help but trace the elastic with his fingers, grazing the skin bared just above. She didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. He pushed beneath her pants, just a little. He felt the smooth skin of her pelvis as he watched her face. Her eyes didn’t flutter open and she didn’t stir to stop him. He tickled the trimmed hair further down and he let out a long shaky breath.

He traced the line of her cunt and carefully dipped his finger between her folds. She was wet despite her unconsciousness. His fingertip slid over her clit and she let out a moan that ended in a nasally snore. He watched her cheek twitch but she still didn’t wake. He pressed another finger down and flicked down and back up. He dragged his fingers along until she began to slicken.

He withdrew his hand and kept his eyes on her. She pushed her arm down over her face and arched her back as she stretched, a sleep grumble as she wiggled beside him. He brushed his fingers along his lips and tasted her. He looked her over and felt the deep pain of his arousal. It was more than that, it was an insatiable and overwhelming need.

He sat up, careful no to jostle her. His hand crawled down her thigh and he sidled over as he inched her legs apart. He lifted himself onto his knees and turned to climb between hers. He stopped as he knelt above her and she still was completely unaware.

He waited a moment before he grasped the waist of her sweats. His hands slipped around and he eased them past her ass as he lifted her. She was putty in his hands. Dead weight as her chest rose and fell without disturbance.

He rolled her pants down a little more. And more. And more. He stared at the soft outlines of her nudity as he bared her and drew her pants down her legs. He backed off the mattress and untangled her feet. He got back between her knees and ran his palms along her naked legs. Goosebumps rose at his touch and she moaned but her arm remained over her eyes and she only muttered between snores.

He paused and leaned over his side of the mattress. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow and quickly swiped it open. He clicked on the camera and turned the flash on. He grasped the top of the tank top and pulled until the straps slid down her arms and her chest came free. He snapped a picture, then another with his hand on her tit. Then he bent to take her nipple in his mouth and suckled until his cock was sore.

He pulled back and looked over her as he set his phone aside. His little doll.

Steve slid his hands down onto the mattress and bent over her. His nose grazed her tuft of hair and he inhaled her scent. He hummed in delight. He nuzzled her closer and poked his tongue out along her folds. He delved deeper and teased her clit and a sharp breath had him frozen. He glanced up but she was still asleep.

He flicked his tongue and she squeaked again. He loved that sound. He remembered that sound, dreamt of it since he’d first heard. Her and Sam never seemed to have much shame or perhaps it was a lack of awareness. That day in the training room when they thought they were alone; when they didn’t know he was just outside the door, kept from his own workout as they wrestled on the mats.

He brought his hand up to feel along her entrance. He poked a finger inside her and felt how tight she was. He added another finger and imagined her around his cock as he had a hundred times before. He lapped at her hungrily and curled his fingers inside her. Her walls constricted as her orgasm built and he guided her through it. He felt it and heard the stifled pattern of her breath as she crested the peak.

He slowed and peeked up at her. He withdrew his hand and reluctantly parted as he sat up. Her arm had slipped from her face and bent around her pillow. He could hear her heartbeat as it raced and yet she was asleep still. How could she not have woken?

Steve gripped the top of his pants. He looked down at his hands as if they weren't his own. He rose and stepped out of his track pants and swiped his shirt over his head. His hands glossed over his hot torso and his chest threatened to burst as every sense was magnified. He needed her. He could have her. Like this.

He bent and took his phone again. He switched to record and the flash bloomed to life. He angled the lens over every inch of her as he watched the screen. He backed up and went to the counter. He propped his phone up against the side of the bag, adjusting it until it focused on the mattress. He wanted to remember it even if she didn’t.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and he stroked himself and neared the bed. He groaned and lowered himself before her. He bent her legs around him as he bent over her. He slid his arm beneath her head and it lolled into the crook of his elbow. He pressed his tip to her folds and slickened himself with her arousal.

He prodded at her entrance and held his breath. He watched her face in the dark as he pushed into her. She stretched around his tip and her breath rushed along his thick bicep. He went deeper, unable to stop as her warmth beckoned to him. He was halfway in and felt as if he couldn’t go any further. She was so tight and yet he had too. He wanted all of her.

He held his breath and thrust to his limit. She gasped and her head turned suddenly as her eyes snapped open. The shock in her face was startling and somehow intoxicating. She blinked as she mumbled in confusion and she brought her hands up against his chest as she tried to shove him off. He jerked his hips and she cried out.

“S-Steve…” She gulped as she felt his thick muscles helplessly. “What are you--”

He pulled back and thrust into her again. Her legs tensed against him and her body arched beneath him. He hushed her and smothered her lips with his. She tried to pull away but she was trapped under his weight; in his strength. He liked the way she writhed, the way her tongue tried to force his out, the way her nails dug into the skin of his chest, the frantic noises that he swallowed up.

💤

You were so full it hurt. Your heart beat faster than ever as your eyes searched the dark. All you could see was the shadow of the man atop you, feel his sheer strength as he cradled your head with his thick arm and moved his body atop yours. You clawed at his chest as you squeezed him with your thighs, trying to get him off of you but only seeming to draw him deeper.

You pushed your head to the side as you finally tore your lips from his and gulped at the air. His motion built steadily as his groans seeped into you and made your stomach turn.

At first, you hadn’t known where you were. It took a moment to recall the safe house and the mission that had led you there. Another to remember Steve’s unexpected arrival and your hasty texts before you resigned to sleep. And another to realise what he was doing to you. To realise that while you were terrified, it felt good. To battle with yourself and your weak body.

“Steve…” You rasped as his wet lips crushed against your cheek and his hips moved steadily against you. “Stop. What are you-- Sam…” You could barely form a thought, let alone speak. “Please--”

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” He growled as he sped up. “You’re so good. So tight.”

“Steve--”

“Mmm, say it again.” His other hand gripped your hip as he tilted into you. “I love my name in your mouth.”

“No, no, no,” You murmured. “Why--”

He impaled you sharply and your voice fizzled in your throat. He rested his weight on you as he sank into you completely and held himself there. Carefully he rolled onto his side and took you with him. He hooked your leg around his side as your other was trapped under him. His arms wrapped around you as he rocked into you.

He grabbed your leg and bent it even higher, straining your muscles as he crashed into you harder and deeper. You beat on his shoulder and threw your head back as you tried to resist the swelling in your core.

“It’s okay,” He purred. “You can cum for me.”

“St-e-ve,” You stuttered and grasped his shoulder. “Why--”

“Can I cum in you?” He asked as he grabbed your head and made you look at him. A light shone from behind him. You hadn’t noticed that before. “I gotta-- I’m gonna fill you up.”

“No, no…” You pushed helplessly. He wasn’t wearing a condom, you could tell. The thought made you sick. “You can’t--”

“I can’t--” He rolled you onto your back once more.

He pinned your hips down with his large hands as he raised himself on his needs and rutted into you without restraint. You felt as if your pelvis would snap as his grunts filled the small house. You clung to the pillows around your head and your body constricted in an unexpected and unwanted climax.

“That-- It--” He snarled as his motion turned relentless. “I’m-- gonna-- ugh…”

His voice trailed off and his hips snapped harshly against you as he came. You felt his heat as it coated your walls and he eased himself still as he lowered his body back down to yours. He pecked your lips and you turned your head away.

“Why…” Your voice crackled.

He hummed and nuzzled your cheek. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

“Get off of me,” You sneered. “Steve,” You slapped him and he recoiled. “Off!”

He grunted and pulled out of you as he pushed himself onto his knees. His cum leaked from your cunt as you sat up and he got to his feet. Your entire body tingled and you were shaking. You stood, your legs wobbly, and Steve’s shadow blotted out the bright light the beamed across the space.

“What is that?” You asked as you reached between your legs to wipe the cum smeared on your thighs.

“A keepsake.” The flash on his phone suddenly went out as he tapped the screen. “To look back on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stomped towards him and reached for his phone. “How could you--”

“Don’t worry,” He held the phone above him. “Sam will never know… unless I want him too.”

“No…” You stared up at his face shrouded in darkness. “How…”

You blinked as tears rose and a hollow chill swept through you. You spun away from him and stumbled to the bathroom. You slammed the door as a sob caught in your throat. The damn thing would stay shut. You punched it as you swallowed back your tears.

You flipped on the light and pushed yourself away from the door and it creaked. You turned the sink on, the cold water numbing as you tried to wash away his cum from your cunt. When you finished, you let the tap run and looked into the mirror. You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself.

And Steve, he couldn’t have been himself.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #somniphilia #one shot #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #mcu #marvel #captain america

2K notes · View notes

may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

Prom Night Lights | The End

Hitoshi Shinsou Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/e30rfoavDdA

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1123031111-hitoshi-shinsou-pro-hero-au-172732014-prom-night

They say that milestones are worth celebrating - your first steps, your first words, your first classroom filled with bright-eyed, bushy-tailed kids. And then there are the firsts that hurt you - your first experience with fear, with doubt, with shame and hate. They are what make up the building blocks of life. But now, this was the first of many firsts to follow - school graduation from one of the most prestigious academies in Musatafu.

And your hands were sweaty.

“Hey, we’re going to be fine,” assured a whisper beside you, finding that smile on Midoriya’s face.

“Yeah, yeah of course. We’ll be fine,” you agreed, chuckling nervously, hoping that alone assured your anxiousness.

“You could give Bakugou a run for his money,” whispered Kaminari beside you with a grin.

“Not funny.”

“I mean, come on, you’re sweating bullets and we haven’t been called to the stage.”

You pouted at Kaminari while you clenched your fists, keeping track with every breath you took. It was a simple walk, shaking hands, accepting your paper then off you went. Classes have been practicing and rehearsing days before, and yet you felt the nerves brew in your gut. The words that echoed from the microphone became a drone and a buzz in your head, paying more attention to the voices that crept in instead - the panicked thoughts of your classmates around you from every course. It was loud, cacophonous until you honed your mind into somewhere familiar when the applause rippled through the seats.

“We’ll be fine,” uttered a calm voice, your eyes turning towards him.

You only wished you shared this with one other person who sat down the aisle in the graduating hall. Searching amongst the chairs, you eyed a mop of purple hair, his tired eyes staring back at yours through the applause. You swore you saw a smirk on his face through the crowd before your class was called to attention.

You felt proud to stand alongside Hitoshi Shinsou, a fellow classmate of Class 3-A while each of you turned to make the trek to the stage, ready for the world.

——

The ceremony took longer than many of the students expected - almost three hours at best while you made your way to Heights Alliance. Walking through the school and watching the younger freshman go about their day reminded you of your growth, learning to hone your Quirk and become not only a better Hero, but a better person. Despite Aizawa’s strict regimen, some of the time, you thanked him inwardly for being not only your homeroom teacher, but a role model and someone to aspire to.

Still, graduation was a coming-of-age. You wondered if you deserved it. There had been some thoughts about your acceptance into the Hero course, how you got through by the skin of your teeth, and then your conversations with Shinsou growing with him during the years here at UA. Although he earned his right to be in the Hero course, let alone in 3-A, there was always that conversation about how either of your Quirks would help society, especially after what had happened in the War that felt like a lifetime ago.

A sad smile pulled at your lips with the thought weighing heavily. You had put in some applications for agencies, but still considered your fit into their agendas. After all, who needed a mind reader?

“Well, if it isn’t the runt of Class 3-A,” called a brutish voice from afar. You eyed the student, not recognizing him until you spotted the buttons on his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re talking to you,” called out another next to him.

With a quick glance of your eye, you discovered they were General Studies students, but not ones you recognized from Shinsou’s former class. Perhaps they were from other classes, you thought, while you quickened your pace. You cursed yourself inwardly about walking alone to Heights Alliance, even though it wasn’t too far from the major school grounds. You kicked yourself harder wondering why you declined an invitation by your classmates to hang around the auditorium. You had thought getting to your dorm earlier would help your nerves for tonight.

Otherwise, your nerves were just nerves.

You couldn’t help feeling that unnerving feeling that crawled on your back, knowing those students decided to track behind you. Until-

This is too easy. So much for being a smart Hero.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve heard insults before. You grew up with that kind of treatment, and only felt acceptance here at this academy. Some of the time at least. You wondered while you made a turn away from Heights Alliance and decided to round the school grounds instead. What did they want?

You only continued to walk through the school grounds until, by happenstance, you found yourself on the PE grounds, empty of people. You shook your head knowing that was a mistake to leave populated areas, however, making your tracks back to the auditorium might yield better results should you find your classmates.

But no one was in sight.

Your eyes darted around, having walked under the bleachers before you decided to turn, coming face to face with both students, their tall frames towering over you before they trapped you within their arms, leaning against the metallic skeleton of the bleachers.

“Hey congratulations,” one cooed with a grin, his arm trapping you from escape. “Never thought someone like you would survive.”

Not a word. Not one word, you thought. Eyes on them, only on them.

“Oh wait, you can hear our thoughts,” he commented, his head hovering over yours while you kept your eye on him. “Want to know mine?”

It was hard to ignore while you continued to rake through your mind, your head only filled with the words he thought. You took a few glances around to still find nobody in sight, your vision soon blocked by their bodies trapping you in the bleachers.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Crowed a familiar voice from behind them.

“Shinsou?” You called out, spotting his form between them, backlit by the sun that began its descent in the sky. It caught the students’ attention, their eyes turning menacingly towards Shinsou with disdain.

“Two against one isn’t fair,” he continued, eyeing the both of them as if his stare drilled into theirs. Your heart leapt from your chest at the sight, but you heard not a word from the students that cornered you. All they did was stare before one ordered the other silently to approach Shinsou.

You heard their intent loud and clear in your mind, their surface thoughts still hard to ignore before out of your control, you tried to run. Your arm was grabbed violently, holding you back at the bleachers while you watched the scene unfold, forced to watch the first punch fly into Shinsou’s face. It was deathly silent except for the sound of every bone-crushing fist that connected with Shinsou, and yet he did not fight back. He took the blows, one at a time.

“Wait, stop!” you cried, pulling at your arms that held you back.

“Oh look it talks,” snarked the student that held you hostage, tugging you and gripping his hands tightly on your skin. “Out of everyone here, this guy gets special treatment. Someone with a Quirk like his getting into the Hero program, what a joke. You two were made for each other.”

The punches grew wilder and harder, pummeling into Shinsou’s chest and face. And yet, he still did not retaliate. He stood his ground, his face pained with every strike before a giant blow winded his gut, forcing him to his knees.

“Stop it! Let him go!” you yelled, still pulling at the hands that gripped you tightly.

“Aw come on, I don’t think your boyfriend appreciates you shouting like that,” taunted the student before you while he shook his hands beside him, stretching his fingers from the assault.

Shinsou breathed through his teeth, grabbing hold of his gut with a nauseating feeling that travelled in waves through his body. His vision blurred from the pain, staring up at his assailant - this General Studies student - a former fellow if anything.

“That all you got?” he taunted, earning another punch.

“Hitoshi!” You yelled, the voices growing louder with their laughter and their taunts. It wasn’t fair. You had your share of childish behavior. You thought graduation was beyond this, but with every strike to Shinsou, it stung. This wasn’t meant to be.

Until the voices stopped.

A snap echoed in the air before both students were wrapped tightly in bindings, constricted in the cloth that froze them in place. You felt your arms release from their hands before running to Shinsou, leaning to aid him in his now beaten and battered body.

“And I was having such a good day today,” retorted a cool yet aggravated voice.

Especially aggravated.

Following the trails of his Binding Cloth, you found Aizawa standing by the pathways, his eyes glowing red while keeping the other students constricted within his grasp. You pulled Shinsou onto his feet, draping his arm around your shoulder for leverage before you turned to Aizawa, his eyes unmoving while he continued to stare.

“Take him to Recovery Girl,” he ordered. “Don’t mind me.”

Without another word, you slowly made your way to the Nurse’s Office, keeping Shinsou on his feet and leaving Aizawa behind.

——

“Ow.”

Shinsou sat on one of a few stretchers in the Nurse's Office, now bandaged after being tended to by Recovery Girl. It was still hilarious to see how she worked her magic, seeing that Shinsou was almost pummeled into submission earlier, but with only the bandages to help heal a few smaller injuries, he waited while Recovery Girl spoke with you by the doors.

“Now dear, he’ll be fine,” she reassured with a smile. “Good thing too, or else he’d be hurting like crazy tonight.”

You smiled knowing Shinsou was taken care of, but glanced at him, spotting the bandages that covered part of his body while he scratched at a few.

“Go easy on him. He should be fine for the celebration, but he’ll need to stay here before then,” advised Recovery Girl before she left you by the door, walking slowly with her cane in hand.

You smiled after the Pro-Hero, briefly wondering how much you’d miss her after leaving for Pro-Hero life before you entered the room, stomping towards Shinsou then punching him in his shoulder.

“Ow!” exclaimed Shinsou, his eyes turning to you confused.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” you barked with a cross look.

“Funny coming from the one who calls for a study buddy most nights.”

“I could’ve handled that on my own.”

“Certainly looked like it.”

You grumbled in frustration, earning another punch in his shoulder to relieve your anger somehow.

“Ow!” He exclaimed again.

“I was actually scared,” you explained, angry, relieved, and frightened despite feeling all of these at once. “You tried to help, but look at you.”

“Yeah, well, no Quirks on campus, remember? And Aizawa would’ve killed the both of us if we did.”

“Yeah that’s for sure.”

You succumbed to that fact, knowingly realizing the folly of actions that transpired. And yet, you were relieved that Aizawa let you both go. Although, thinking more on that, it was more so the fact that Shinsou was injured that you were able to leave. The guilt started to build, tiny but still significant. It was odd how events could cascade into something so large-

Boyfriend, huh?

“What?” You asked.

“What?” Replied Shinsou in turn.

“Nothing!”

You glanced away, realizing you just read his head. That wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to. Nerves, it was nerves.

“Thanks,” you slowly spoke, catching Shinsou’s ear. “Recovery Girl said you need to stay here until tonight, so, if you want, I could pick up anything you need.”

“To be honest, I was thinking of not going,” admitted Shinsou, surprising you a little.

“Why? You’ve worked so hard to be here. You deserve a celebration like everyone else.”

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, uncaring about the situation before you pouted, punching him again.

“Ow! Haven’t I been a punching bag long enough?” He exclaimed in surprise.

“This isn’t like your birthdays,” you retorted, his eyes surprised at your fervent pressure. “You worked your ass off to be here, in the Hero program, with us. Sure, you haven’t made some close friends, but you are deserving and you’ve earned everything tonight. I will not accept your apathetic response as worthy enough to warrant an excuse to-“

“Would you like to come with me?”

You stopped, staring at Shinsou with your lips slightly agape. No amount of mind-reading expected that.

“I was going to ask after the ceremony, then those idiots started following you,” he explained. “And seeing what’s happened now, I didn’t want to drag you down.”

Silence filled the room while you felt the beat of your heart echo in your ears. You could feel the blood burn inside with a flush of embarrassment. Just what were you doing?

“I kissed you once, and this shocks you?” Asked Shinsou with a quizzical brow.

“You stole that from me!” You retorted, finally snapping you out of your stupor.

Shinsou only laughed at your response, earning one from you as well, the giggles echoing in the mostly empty room of empty stretchers.

An hour or two had passed before you stepped outside, watching the sun still in the sky while you made your way to Class 3-A’s dorms. Shinsou had graciously given you the key to his dorm to collect his suit, which he explained was actually picked out by Kaminari of all people. You chuckled wondering how that encounter must have happened while you readied yourself in your formal wear earlier than most on your floor before heading to the topmost floor for Shinsou’s. Quickly taking what he had listed was his outfit, you carried the dress suit on your shoulders while rushing out of the dorms, only to-

“Oh sorry!” Blurted someone by the front doors of your dormitories after knocking into them accidentally.

“No, you’re good!” You called back, paying no mind to who it was before dashing on the pathways in your dress shoes towards the school grounds.

You've never seen the grounds empty of students after the day was done. It was almost eerie in its presence before your steps echoed in the empty halls, reaching the Nurse’s Office in due time. You excitedly entered the doors with a grin, finding Shinsou standing by the windows while he stared at the changing colours of the sky. He turned to find you a little flush from the light jog, yet he stood with arms crossed, eyeing you from head-to-toe.

“I could’ve walked,” he commented dryly.

“Certainly looks like it,” you teased with a smile, eyeing his bandages.

“All right, enough teasing Kitten.” Shinsou outstretched his hand to receive his suit from you, which you handed happily. He proceeded to unwrap the bandages from his person, removing each piece before he revealed his toned torso. You watched while his thumbs tucked into the rim of his pants, halting before his violet gaze glanced at you quizzically.

“Um, would you mind?” He asked.

It took a moment for you to realize-

“Oh sorry,” you whispered before you turned your back on him, your eyes no longer staring at him undressing. You smiled at yourself with the image of Shinsou’s torso clear in your mind. Thankfully there was no bruising, but his build was hard to ignore. All his days training off hours really paid off, especially after taking a beating from earlier today.

Shinsou slipped into his dress suit for the graduation prom, still perplexed for such a large outing before his eye stared at your back. He soaked in the sight of you while you swayed on your shoes every now and then. His time in UA was paved with his stubbornness and his own merit, yet staring at you, growing with him and sharing your lives with each other also brought a warm smile. He fixed his tie around his collar, ensuring it sat well with the suit before he approached you from behind, guiding his hand upon your shoulder with a gentle squeeze. He stopped to watch you turn to him, taking in the sight even more now that you stood beside him.

“Shall we?” He asked with that smile still present.

You returned that smile filled with joy before feeling his hand direct you out from the Nurse’s Office and into the evening ahead.

——

The prom was lit with fairy lights, much like the paths that led to Gym Gamma that lined the trees. You smiled at how magical it looked, for lack of a better word, but compared to the events of today, it eased your mind to see your fellow graduating class celebrating the night away. Shinsou was more than happy to sit throughout the prom night, observing and watching everyone across the dance floor while you sat beside him. There hadn’t been a label on this friendship you shared, on this growing trust you’ve built with the former General Studies student. Heck, he was right when he mentioned that one kiss he took when you were stuck in a closet, no thanks to Kaminari and Ashido.

And then you heard his thoughts, by accident you were sure or at least tried to convince yourself when you heard what he thought. Boyfriend? Maybe. His intentions were clear from the start. You evaluated where you stood, glancing at him while he still continued to watch, his head slightly bobbing to the music playing all around.

“Let’s move in together,” you remarked before you watched his surprised reaction.

“What?” He whispered, confused.

“That’s the goal. Let’s find a place and move in together.”

“I haven’t even heard from any agencies yet, and you want to make nesting plans? Aren’t we too young-“

“Humour me,” you interrupted, turning yourself to face him while the lights decorated in dapples along the curve of his cheeks.

Shinsou stared into your eyes, painted with intention and purpose, waiting for an answer to such a ludicrous question. Out of the blue no less. He soon turned to you, making himself comfortable while his hands held onto yours, shared between each other’s laps.

“An apartment, overlooking part of the city with nice windows so it’ll let natural light inside,” he described with some thought.

“But not too high,” you added. “Is Toka an outdoor cat?”

“I found her outside.”

“Okay, something on the fifth floor?” You continued, still humoring the idea in your mind. “That’s gotta be high enough for a view.”

“Only with an elevator,” added Shinsou with a smirk. “I refuse anything with just flights of stairs.”

You chuckled at the mere thought of Shinsou having to run up and down stairs for a fifth floor apartment, yet in turn it gave him a smirk to see you smile and laugh. He chuckled until pain rippled through his sides, clutching onto his torso while you continued to giggle despite your own concern about his well being. Closing in on Shinsou only made his eyes glint against the lights of the auditorium, seeing his violets almost glow within the dim dance lights. You stared into their pools as if you could drown in them, in the way he stared back at you.

“Is it all right if I called you Hitoshi?” You asked, momentarily catching him unaware of the sudden request.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckled, almost sultry while you still stared into his eyes, your noses so close to one another’s. “You didn’t have a problem earlier when my face was getting smashed in.”

“Shut up,” you teased with a light smack on his shoulder. He cried a little from the smack, but the pain was short-lived before he closed the gap in-between, his lips on yours with a delicate touch.

“Thank you Kitten,” he whispered with a smile, his hands clasping on yours gently.

“Thank you Hitoshi.”

Life is made up of many firsts, some that would test the age of time. And you hoped to cherish the memories that would also follow after, for as long as your mind would keep them.

#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x you #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha au #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bnha

23 notes · View notes

shortprince-cos · 4 years

Text

Battle Scars

Summary: Virgil decides to ask his Dad about the scars on his arms, which he had been theorizing about for some time, and Virgil doesn't know if he'll like the answer or not.

Ship: A little bit of Logicality.

Genre: Hurt/comfort I guess? Idk this is just an excuse to write more Patton angst.

Warnings: Cutting(non descriptive), homelessness, cheating, swearing, internalized homophobia, Ethan(because he is his own tagwarning at this point). Tell me if i need to add anything!

Thanks to @effable-as-f and @foreverfangirlalways for some help with the plot!

~~~~~

"Dad?" Virgil asked while cleaning the dishes, curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"Yeah, kiddo?" Patton responded while putting dishes into the cupboard. He's always smiling... Virgil wondered if it was even real most of the time.

"Remember when I asked you about..." Virgil hesitated before continuing. "About the scars on your arms?"

Patton immediately froze, the smile disappearing from his face. "I-I told you that I'd tell you when you're older."

"Dad," Virgil stopped focusing on the dishes, instead turning to face his father. "I was like, 10 the first time I asked. I'm 16. I am older now. And...I kinda have some theories, but I don't really want them to be true."

Patton sighed, then turned to look at his angsty son. "Virgil," He put on a smile, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I want you to know that I never want to see these scars on you, ok?"

Virgil was in disbelief. "Oh my god. You did. Why would- why would you- when?"

Patton suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Um- mostly in college, but some when you were a baby."

"When I was a baby?" Virgil parroted. "Was I...that much of a problem?" Virgil asked with guilty eyes.

"No, no!" Patton exclaimed. "It wasn't because of you! Honestly, you were the thing that kept me going." He said with sad eyes.

"So...why?"

"I..." Patton took in a shaky breath before continuing. "In college, I had a lot of stuff going on. It was...extremely stressful."

---

~Flashback~

---

The party was loud. Too loud for Patton's taste, but Roman insisted that this party would be fun! And he could always trust Roman.

Yeah, the party did not go as planned.

Patton quickly lost Roman in the crowded frat house, leaving him alone in the ocean of drunk people. He thought having a bit of punch would be fine. He thought that the nice guy just wanted to be his friend. He thought they were going in the bedroom to just talk somewhere a little quieter.

He thought wrong. It wasn't bad. On the contrary, Patton enjoyed it a little. That's what scared him. He has always been told that loving someone of the same gender was a sin. Did he just sin? Would he go to hell? What would his parents say? What would his parents do? Would they yell at him? Would they disown him? Oh god. They would. They would never want to see him again.

He was spiraling. Spiraling into a deep depression that would stay for a very, very long time.

Patton had done a lot of regretful things after that. Most being the cutting. So many cuts just to feel something, anything.

Patton just felt so awful after that; so alone and scared, like nothing would ever be good again. Of course, college Patton didn't know that the future would be so much better.

---

~End Flashback~

---

"Oh...that's awful Dad." Virgil had no idea that that's how he figured out he was gay.

"Yeah...it was."

"So...what happened when I was a baby?" Virgil questioned. He wanted to know if it was his fault or not. He knew it probably wasn't, but that didn't stop him from worrying.

"Well...it wasn't good."

---

~Flashback~

---

"You're-you're leaving? J-just like that? You'd throw everything we had away, just to- just to run off with some random guy you've known for two days?!"

"Patton, this has been going on for far longer than two days." Ethan silk voice was now like lethal poison to Patton. "And I'm not 'running off', this is my house, after all."

Patton froze. "You're-you're kicking us out?"

"What? Did you expect to stay here?" Ethan huffed "Just pack your things and leave."

---

~End Flashback~

---

"Oh my god. You didn't tell me that I had another dad, and an a**hole dad at that."

"Yeah..." Patton looked ashamed, like it was his fault. "But, it got better."

---

~Flashback~

---

Patton went through a lot in only one month. A terrible month of living in his car, then selling the car, then having no where to go. Living on the streets as a single dad with a baby boy, getting fired from his job, not having enough money for food to feed the both of them.

Patton starved in that awful alleyway. He gave all of his food to Virgil, to keep him alive. It was torture.

Two months later, Patton knew he needed help. He had nothing but a baby and the clothes on his back. He had some friends, but he hadn't talked to them since he started dating Ethan. They had told him that Ethan wasn't someone good, he didn't listen to them. He should have listened to him. They probably didn't want to see him.

But...he didn't have any other options if he wanted to stay with Virgil; if he wanted Virgil to live.

He found himself on a friend's doorstep, shame and guilt coursing through him, and a six month old baby in his scarred arms.

He knocked on the house's door. It only took a couple of seconds for it to open.

"...Patton?" Logan looked surprised, but there was no hate on his face, only concern.

"I...I'm so sorry Logan." Patton cried. "I should have listened to all of you, you were all right about Ethan, he cheated on me, and-and then he-he kicked us out, and I don't know where else to go-"

"Patton." Logan interrupted, he took Virgil from Patton's arms. "Dinner's almost done, I want you to eat, and then get some sleep, please."

Patton nearly collapsed under the relief he had. He had never expected to be safe somewhere, where he could sleep soundly and not have to worry if Virgil would wake up or not. Not having to worry if he would wake up or not.

But maybe he would be ok now, Logan seemed to care about him and Virgil, so maybe he would be ok.

---

~End Flashback~

---

"THAT'S how you got with Dad?!" Virgil was extremely surprised that it wasn't like a romance movie, like he thought it would be. His fathers have always been that very cute couple that you wish you were, but he had no idea that how they got together wasn't a PG-13 romantic movie that you would take your date to.

"Yeah, well...it wasn't my proudest moment."

"Did someone call me?" Logan asked while coming down the stairs, student's test papers in hand.

"No honey bear, we were just talking." Patton's faced softened as he saw Logan. See? Exactly like romance films.

Logan hummed in response, then made his way over to Patton to give him a kiss on his head.

The moment was soon over, and the family went to watch movies on the couch. It wasn't until Patton and Logan were in bed, was it brought up again.

"Patton?" Logan asked, looking to him from his spot in his book.

"Yeah, Lo?"

"Are you ok? I know you didn't want to talk with Virgil about...that, until he was an adult. Or just not at all."

Patton looked to his husband, his sweet, understanding, loving husband, and thought for a moment before answering. "I'm perfect, Logan. Everything is perfect right now."

And it was.

~~~~~

This whole thing was an excuse to write more Patton angst, but do I care? Of course not, it's literally what I'm known for! Also, I am working on a couple different fics right now. I have no idea when they'll be done, but look forward to them anyway!

General Taglist: @five-falseh00ds-ph0nated @decadentscissorsapricotdeputy @resident-trash-goblin @thefingergunsgirl @foreverfangirlalways @theantisocialghost @emo--nightmaree @moxiety--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dle Ask if you would like to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #patton angst #tw cutting #tw cheating #tw homelessness #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #tw ethan #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #logicality #kawaiikat54 fic #tw ethan trottel #tw internalized homophobia

186 notes · View notes

thehattertheory · 3 years

Text

untitled s/k

I accidently reblogged a prompt list to the wrong blog and @cakeit0n requested 63. I forgot to forget. Given Cake has brought back the DDN/GMDDN and is an awesome human in general, I’m stoked to oblige.

I’m not sure how well this works for the prompt, my brain just sort of blurted it out.

Rating: G

Tags : Modern Era, CanonDiv, Kagome never goes back to the past, youkai politics in the modern era, romance, inu yasha has zero patience for these two idiots, drabble? nah my hand slipped, unbetaed, kind of rushed but im going out of town with no internet so now or never

When he met her again, she was covered in blood, working with a petite youkai to try and keep a wounded creature from pulling the fang in it’s thigh free. That the fang was easily the width of his wrist and buried in the thigh of a dragon meant little. He’d come to investigate the disturbance itself.

Finding her in the thick of it seemed fitting, twenty first century be damned.

When she looked up at him there was the briefest flicker of recognition before her features settled into determined lines. “Either you can go and get that sword of yours or you can help me make sure he doesn’t get that far.”

With only one real way to help, he clipped the dragon’s head, stunning it senseless. “How did this happen?”

“He’s not up to answering questions right now, we need to get him stabilized and moved,” She muttered, wrapping bandages around the fang to keep it from moving, a series of curses escaping as she finished the job. “Sesshoumaru, can you pick him up, we just need to get him into the truck.”

“Miko,” The petite youkai hissed, staring at him, then swinging her gaze back to the woman.

“He’s fine,” The miko dismissed. “We need to get this one out of sight, asap. Sesshoumaru?”

“You would have done this without me,” He reminded her, amused by her lack of decorum.

“But having a man around helps,” She shrugged. “Unless you want the news to get him on camera.”

With little option, he slung the youkai over his shoulder and followed her to the van parked in the next alley, dropping the stunned creature into the back with a modicum of grace and watching as the petite youkai got in the back, the door being slammed shut in his face.

“Don’t mind Souten. She’s paranoid of the elders.”

Him. She was paranoid about him. “Is she a criminal?”

“We both work a clinic.”

A clinic, not The Clinic, the same one they’d been searching for as the conflict between the youkai factions had begun escalating. He knew better than to think they weren’t the same thing.

“You’re being forthcoming.”

“You won’t turn me in,” She shrugged.

“Presumptuous.”

“Then got on with it or let me get him somewhere safe.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I don’t care.”

He frowned. The crux of it. “You’ll take me there.”

“No.”

“Miko-”

“You can’t go back, Sesshoumaru. You called me by my name,” She reminded him with a pinched frown.

“Five hundred years is enough time for the formalities to reassert themselves.”

She had the gall to roll her eyes at him. “I’m not leading you there. We just moved again.” Just as abruptly, something shifted, she looked back up at him, her exhaustion peeking through the mask she’d been wearing. “Please, just- Just this time. Let us go. Forget you saw us.”

Exhaustion, frustration, even a little fear. But resilience too, the girl he’d known a scattered blueprint for the woman standing in front of him. “I owe you no favors,” He said slowly, seeing her go rigid, steeling herself. “But I owe a debt to the girl that saved my ward, a very long time ago.”

Her shoulders sagged, naked gratitude replacing the fear.

“Thank you,” She breathed, her only acknowledgment before slipping into the van and starting it.

Despite himself, despite the laws he’d helped compose, that he’d sworn to uphold without exception- He watched her go, and did not follow.

########################

Tensions continued to rise, tempers and minor conflicts sparking among youkai in the city, even spreading outside of Tokyo, spreading them all thin. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first war that chanced being caught on cellphones and city CCTV, the entire world wired to take notice of them.

He didn’t seek out the clinic itself, but he did search for Kagome. It should have been simple to find a miko, especially one with blue eyes, one that healed anyone, regardless of species. What should have been simple had turned to an exercise in futility, the last tangible rumor of her from a residency that she’d completed, not a whiff of magic about her.

Then nothing but fragments of whispers.

So it was surprising to be called to a hearing, only to find himself face to face with her.

“And who is this?” He asked, biting back surprise.

“It turns out the miko Sango has been the one giving haven to the wounded, instead of bringing them to our attention.”

Sango. He remembered that name, remembered the huntress and her younger brother. Memories tied up in Rin’s life, and her death. “Sango, is it? Do you understand why you’re here?”

Fierce, rebellious blue eyes rose to meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m helping them. Most of them don’t have any choice. Their leaders are forcing them to fight-”

“They all have a choice,” Another of the Elders interrupted, as if bored with the proceedings.

“If someone disobeys their clan head they’re cast out. Are you you going to take care of them?” She countered, fury spilling over, voice echoing through the room. “Tell me, who’s going to help them if they’re hit by a car and can’t explain walking away? Or what about the ones that require weekly seals for their unstable blood? Will you see to it they can survive the modern era?”

“Passionate, coming from a miko,” One of his peers sneered.

“If you want to end my interference, do your jobs and end the conflict between the clans.”

It was the nail in the coffin. He could see the decision writ clear across their faces.

“Perhaps it is time she go to one of the holding areas, so we may discuss this matter,” He suggested.

“Bind her, force the truth out of her, clear out the clinics,” One of the others said with ease, as if he wasn’t suggesting the most horrific punishment they’d inflicted on their worst criminals.

“I think it is a matter that should be discussed,” He repeated. “Take her to the eighteenth floor.”

The two youkai that had been hanging back nodded their assent. Kagome didn’t allow them to touch her, following peacefully between them.

“We need access to the youkai she’s protecting,” One of the Elders muttered. “It’s the only way to find the instigators.”

She wouldn’t give up the youkai or her clinic, not that he was going to inform the others of any such thing. The agreement rose around him, where it fell apart was the how of it. Every elder had their own opinion of how to proceed. None of them agreed, and none of them was willing to cede.

They adjourned, nothing solved.

###############################

“Sango?” He asked, walking into the holding area. Little more than a small bedroom with a toilet and sink in it. One of only a small handful, all of them spelled to hold even the most dangerous of youkai and miko.

“I didn’t want them finding my family.”

“You’ve been doing this longer than the current conflict.”

“There’s always been a need for a clinic,” She shrugged, watching him warily. Whatever ease she’d had in his presence before was gone.

“You sacrificed yourself so your patient could escape,” He accused. “You would not be here otherwise.”

She remained silent.

“Foolish.”

“You would have done the same, once.”

“You speak as if I’ve changed so much.”

“Haven’t you?”

“You haven’t given me much chance to prove otherwise.”

A flicker of shame. “I’m sorry. It’s-” She stopped, shook her head. “It’s hard to know who to trust now.”

“I don’t need your patients,” He finally admitted. “Only the clans they belong to.” She opened her mouth in protest and he raised a hand to silence her. “We have no solid proof, not yet. We need something. Names of clans, at least. We only have suspicions, for now. We have to have more than that to do our jobs,” He reminded her. “Even we have due process.”

Her mouth twisted in distaste. “You want me to spy.”

“More or less.”

“And my freedom hinges on betraying trust?”

“No. I’m going to see you escape here regardless,” He said, unable to stop the smirk tugging at his own lips. Utterly dumbfounded. It was nice to see her that way, when she’d been so in control before. “The spells and seals have been nullified. You can walk out.”

“What about you?”

He was older, stronger, and more wily than most of them. “They’ll never know I was here.”

She got to her feet, walking past him slowly. “I won’t betray my patients,” She challenged, already opening the door.

“I understand.”

She slipped out. He had no doubt she wound find her way out of the building. The engineered chaos on the twenty third floor, a loosed youkai with both a temper and a penchant for fire had the guards undivided attentions.

###############################

Hands inspected his chest, poking gently at the area that throbbed with pain. He hissed, the pain radiating out, then disappearing completely. “This isn’t how I expected you to gather information,” A quiet voice murmured. “If I’d known you would go to these extremes, I would have just asked someone to come forward.”

A dark room greeted him, Kagome hovering over him, examining him in an impersonal way.

“You wouldn’t have anyway.”

“I did,” She corrected, continuing her ministrations. “Why did Mouti attack you?”

“How did you know it was Mouti?” He grumbled.

“Pheasant’s eye roots works a lot like morphine for youkai,” She huffed, giving him a slight smile. “You may have let a few things slip.”

“I hope nothing embarrassing,” He groaned, pushing himself up.

“Only how much you admire my blue eyes,” She teased.

“They are lovely, but I doubt they were the first thing on my mind.”

“Which brings up back to Mouti.”

“It is my concern,” he dismissed. As ever, she ignored the implicit command.

“It might be mine.”

“Oh, do tell?”

“I purified him,” She declared quietly, pulling her gloves off and snapping them into the trashcan by the bed. “I felt Bakusaiga. I haven’t felt it in years, like lightening. I couldn’t, it wouldn’t let me ignore it. And then I found you both, and somehow he’d wounded you-” She shook her head, looking down at her hands. “I haven’t killed a youkai since I got back.”

It struck him then, that she was a doctor, and no matter what she’d done as a youth, a doctor’s first priority was to heal. Not to kill. She was carrying that weight for him, because of him.

“Mouti is an architect of the current conflict,” He finally admitted. “You killed the man that has kept your clinic so busy.”

It didn’t help.

“I don’t believe he’s the only one. Nor that the clans will stop, even if we were to put an end to the scheming. They’ve been given too many ideas, now they believe it’s possible to take over.”

Kagome dropped onto the bed, clearly exhausted. “I thought that might be it.”

“Kagome-”

“I’ll get names of clan heads for you,” She whispered, eyes clenched shut. “Just end this, Sesshoumaru. We don’t have the means to make this work for much longer.”

The clinic, with it’s myriad needs, to say nothing of the frequent moves. “Let me help.”

“You can’t endanger your place on the council right now-”

“Let me worry about my place on the council. I’ve held it for longer than you’ve been alive,” He reminded her dryly, earning a startled, broken laugh. A hand clapped over her mouth and bright, tear filled eyes lit on him. He could see the shock, the mortification and amusement in them, and offered a dry smile of his own in return. “I sound like your grandfather.”

“You do sound like my grandfather,” She huffed, hand dropping to her lap. It was a sad thing, her laugh, a puff of air and little more.

“Do you see them?”

“Not since this started escalating. I don’t want to chance it.”

He paused, because some things needed saying. “Inu Yasha-”

“He found me, when I was still in medical school. I know.”

Older than them both, aged and with children. Older, maybe even wiser than them both.

“Don’t tell him about this. You know how he is.”

It was genuinely amusing she thought his brother hadn’t been keeping tabs on her since she’d been born. The utter lack of information on her had probably been his brother’s doing to begin with. “You have my word I won’t bring him into this.”

“Thank you,” She breathed.

###############################

The child stared at him with eyes too bright, too vivid to be human. Even contacts couldn’t accomplish the array of colors that whorled as she stared up at him.

“Can I help you?”

“This is from the bird woman,” The hanyou announced, handing over an envelope.

He accepted it, and the child bolted. He attempted to follow, stunned to see- Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. As if the child had never existed.

Bird woman. Shaking his head, he opened the envelope, stunned to see two names written in a feminine hand, with a single line beneath it.

I don’t want to see you in my clinic again.

Shaking his head, he looked over the two names again, then promptly destroyed the letter.

###############################

The strange hanyou came to his apartment five more times, each time with a message from the Bird Woman. Every message with at least one name, sometimes more. Names of clan heads and nothing more. No more personal messages, nothing to hint at who had written them, or what the names meant. But they were all her handwriting, a tidy feminine script that he recognized immediately as hers.

And just as immediately, he destroyed them all, quietly repeating the names, forming plans of how to expose and judge them.

###############################

There were two cities, in Tokyo. The city humanity walked, with it’s myriad bright lights and bustling corridors, full of a thousand dreams and nightmares, pulling people into the consumerists cycle of styles and creations, art and politics.

The Tokyo behind it, below it, was one that had been cultivated centuries before, thriving. Until now. Now it’s tensions were breaking, leaking into the humans Tokyo, threatening to spill into the sunlight. Threatening to expose all of them.

It was the exact reason his brother had shown up. Not that it was helping his temper as he scoured maps, looking again and again for some sort of reason.

“There have been bodies showing up,” Inu Yasha observed.

“I know.”

“She wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I know,” He ground out. The child with the messages had stopped coming as well.

“Have you found the clinic?”

He’d had no need to find it, had known where it was the moment she’d moved, kept tabs on it because it meant keeping tabs on her. “She hasn’t been there. Shippou and Souten haven’t seen her.”

“Why would they take her? She’d get a hearing, at least,” Inu Yasha muttered.

Something suspiciously akin to guilt needled at him. “She did. I got her out.”

“She’d still have a formal arrest, you’d know-”

“She’s been feeding me names of clans, so I can try and figure out who all is involved.”

“You let her- Sesshoumaru, what the hell were you thinking?” His brother snarled. “She’s a doctor-”

“I know,” He snapped, unable to contain his frustration. “I know she’s a doctor and it goes against her ethics. I know!”

His brother stopped, pale gaze widening. “Holy- You care about her.”

“What are you on about?” He snapped.

“You wouldn’t do this for any spy. You care about her.”

“Stop projecting your moronic fantasies onto me, Inu Yasha.”

“Don’t lie to me. Just- Tell me the truth,” Inu Yasha demanded, voice quieter than it had ever been. “I just want to know the truth.”

“It’s my fault,” He admitted. He’d asked for the information, he’d used it. It had only been a matter of time before someone had been able to connect all the dots. He should have been more careful, and because he hadn’t, she’d been taken.

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing once. “We’ll get her back.”

###############################

Finding her was more simple than anticipated, knowing her energy, knowing her. It had only taken scouring the city, district by district. It was easier on foot, easier and faster for them than it would have been for humans.

Finding her was also stunning, the derelict building lacking any real protections.

“You will not have my bride!” The spirit shrieked at them, it’s shrill voice piercing, making his ears ache as it rang through him.

Bride.

Kagome sat at the table, dull blue eyes focused on nothing. She was still wearing jogging pants and a shirt with a bright pink stain on it, as if she’d been taken while out on a morning run. Taken and drugged to be the thing’s bride.

Tenseiga was quick. Quicker than the spirit deserved.

###############################

“As bad as the past,” Inu Yasha huffed, shaking his head. “Fucking figures it was someone trying to marry her.”

He glared at his half-brother.

“You should ask her about it sometime.”

“Why are you still here?”

Inu Yasha’s expression grew smug, a sly smile stretching his features. “I want to see what you do when she wakes up,” He gloated.

“Ensure she arrives home safely.”

“You moron,” Inu Yasha groaned. “You’re both in the middle of a war. She almost had something completely unrelated kill her. Are you really going to sit on your thumbs?”

“I truly abhor this conversation.”

“She’s worth it, you know,” Inu Yasha said, abruptly changing tactics, growing serious. “She really is.”

“Just because you loved her doesn’t mean everyone will.”

“But you do, don’t you?” His half brother challenged.

It was irrelevant. She didn’t want him at her clinics, in her life. She’d made it clear.

###############################

He was there when she began stirring, bruised, blue eyes squinting open first, then slowly widening, a groan escaping. There was nothing particularly beautiful or delicate about it, as if she was being dragged back to consciousness completely against her will. Leaning back in his chair, he watched her shift, blink resentfully at the window, then look over at him.

“I’m not married, am I?”

“No.”

“Good,” She breathed, closing her eyes again and snuggling down into his pillows. “Thanks.”

“The girl calls you the bird woman.”

A light smile, the shadows of resentment vanishing. “I helped Suki last year, another miko had tried to bind her youkai blood completely. She’s been my eyes since then. I don’t know why she calls me that. She just always has.” Her eyes opened, and she looked far ore at home in his bed than he really knew what to do with.

“Inu Yasha is here,” He advised, unsure of what else to say as she stared up at him, waiting for something. Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that, her expression falling. “He saw the signs, and came of his own accord.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been worried about you.”

He watched her push herself up, left her alone in his room, in his bed. Inu Yasha was glaring at him, pointing at the door even as he exited. He ignored it, going back to the kitchen. An exasperated sigh erupted behind him, the hanyou disappearing into his room. He heard the joy in her voice, how it changed when his brother appeared.

Unashamed, he listened in.

“He’s an idiot, forgive him.”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“It’s stupid. You’re both in love-”

“Inu Yasha, you need to stay out of it.”

“I’ve had to listen to you-”

“Yasha-” She hissed.

“And he’s been insane trying to find you and then pretending-”

“He can hear you,” Kagome muttered, voice pitching.

“Then let him hear it. That’s constipated jackass for I love you, I should know-”

His entire body burned, unsure of how to stop his brother’s meddling without doing something that would prove the bastard right. “I think you’ve upset her enough,” He ground out, humiliated by his brother’s display. The door to his room opened, Inu Yasha stomping back out, Kagome behind him.

“I should never have removed the subjugation beads,” She muttered.

“Get off your high horses already,” Inu Yasha huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m going for some food. Have this solved by the time I get back.” Without further aplomb his brother left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

“I lied. He sounds like my grandfather,” Kagome muttered, cradling her face in her palms. “Another suitor.”

He felt mortified despite himself.

“Not you, not- That you are a suitor,” She amended quickly. “The spirit.”

“Inu Yasha mentioned it was something of a pattern.”

She rolled her eyes. “When I was fifteen. I was pretty sure I’d entered untouchable spinster territory.”

“Not at all,” He demurred. “You’re more than you’ve ever been.”

She flushed, pink burning up her neck and cheeks. “Thank you. You-” She paused. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”

“I thought you made it clear.”

She frowned. “What?”

“You told me not to come back to the clinic.”

She was the one to close the space between them, her hands taking his, bringing them to her heart. He could feel it beneath his palms, thrumming in a steady, reassuring tattoo. “I didn’t want you to come back as my patient."

He felt foolish, having it spelled out for him.

As if she understood, she brought his hands up to her lips cautiously, as if unsure of her welcome. Slowly, she began kissing his fingertips, lips barely brushing over them in myriad kisses. Featherlight, as if she couldn’t stop exploring his hands, she kept kissing the callused flesh. The hands that had killed hundreds, thousands of youkai and humans, some dozen within the last week. Watching, stunned, he didn’t know what to do until she pressed a kiss to his palm, her breath shuddering out of her.

She meet his gaze evenly, vulnerability and resolve.

#s/k #that one from way back #god please forgive any glaring errors ill def clean it up by the time i get back #rushed bc i gotta get to the mt where there is 0% internet access like now #THANK YOU CAKE FOR MAKING IT SO EASY TO COME BACK

27 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.04

Officially Family

10/03/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 4,265

Warnings: Language?, a wee bit of angst, sexy blonde kings wearing floofy shirts

A/N: So, this chapter was actually intended to be joined with what will be the next chapter but I think having them separate will do better. There’s a lot to digest in this one, so I hope it reads well even though it’s a little on the shorter side (for me). Let me know what you like/love/had to think about whatever! As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

It feels like a dream, sitting in the carriage as your new life looms closer and closer with every turn of the steel and wooden wheel.

Across from you, his Majesty is staring at you. Sussing out your lack of reaction to what happened last night.

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy has your arm, carefully leading you down further and further into the castle. Deeper than you’ve gone yet, and when he finally stops, you’re sure that you’re in a dungeon somewhere because there are no windows, only diffuse candlelight every few steps.

You can hear the subtle drip of water and the scurrying of tiny feet.

An echoing meow tells you that it’s probably just cats and their kittens inhabiting the deep parts of the castle.

“Why are we down here?” You ask, frightened that maybe his Majesty really is upset with you.

What if Happy lied? What if King Rogers was not happy with you and because you failed to entice him, King Tony is going to have you chained up in a cell?

“His Majesty’s other office is down here. Just at the end of the hall. I’m not supposed to go with you, so...” He hesitates in letting your arm go. “Can you make it there on your own? You’re not going to faint again, are you?”

You look down at your pretty white gown with its pink underlay and the way even down here in the dim it seems to shine like a pearl. The bottom layer is dirty now, both from your fall and from dragging it down along these dirty floors.

“No. I’m fine.” You think.

Happy lets you go. “Just straight ahead. Last door at the end of the hall. Don’t bother knocking. He’s expecting you.”

You watch as he turns away from you and with one final glance back to make sure you’re alright, he disappears up along the gray stone steps to the daylight above.

Fear will get you nowhere. So, you shove it aside and march straight for that door at the end.

You give yourself one moment of hesitation to take a deep breath and prepare yourself for what might be a trap but as the heavy door swings open, you find yourself facing a golden mask, devoid of humanoid features save for the glowing blue eyes of what you’re sure must be magic.

You take a deep breath, a scream working its way into your throat before the golden face shakes its head and then it speaks.

“Wait, wait, wait. Don’t scream.” His Majesty’s voice says. He throws one hand out towards you and you watch the slit of his metallic lips that do not move as he speaks.

Somehow, despite there being no real opening, his voice is amplified. The golden armor, which you now see is to accentuate the massive amounts of red that he’s wearing, extends down to his sternum, shoulders, and arms.

It’s there in his arms that the armor begins to weave with regular leather plate armor, deep red. In his hands shine two large orbs of light like that which comes out of his eyes. At the center of his chest is a glowing blue circle that you suddenly realize is the design you’d first noticed on his servants’ armor. The coachman and the footman.

The rest of his outfit is thick, sturdy red linen and cotton, black leather belts around his waist that match the darker shade of his leather pants. Golden boots rise high up to his knees where golden shin guards with red leather beneath complete the look.

He reaches up behind his head and with a small click, there’s a hiss and he pulls off the heavy metal mask and then pops it underneath his arm as if he were holding nothing more than a child’s ball.

“This probably won’t be the worst thing you’ll catch me doing.” He teases, then moves towards you.

You almost step back, but you remind yourself at whose invitation you’re in the castle and that this man is no longer just your king but your father.

“Please, say something.” He rolls his shoulders nervously, dark brow drawn together.

“You’re the Iron Knight.” You gasp, nearly breathless.

“It’s not really Iron. It’s a new metal. Lighter than iron. Titanium is what they called it where I found it. I added some nickel. Makes it easier to move in. Here, try it on.”

He holds the mask out to you, and you take a step back, this time simply refusing to wear the mask not fearful.

“No thank you.” You frown at him, wondering what he’s playing at offering to let you try it on.

“It won’t bite.” He chuckles but puts it down on a table which finally draws your eyes to the rest of the room.

In essence it is a massive dungeon. It’s tall and wide with a vaulted ceiling supported with thick stone pillars. There are also countless tables along two of the walls, some metal, some wood. So much gear is stacked on each table. Different shin guards and boots, shoulder guards, and wristlets. There are a few chest pieces like the one he’s wearing, works in progress.

He’d been standing right at the center of this collection of tables, a target dummy made of straw and burlap sacks at the far end of the dungeon room, singed at the head.

“I think I’ve finally got the aiming down.” He tells you, and you wander over behind him as he lifts his hand and aims it at the dummy. “Careful.”

His warning makes you step back, but he puts his hand out towards you to make sure you’re safe.

There’s a subtle buzz. A hiss, like fire but not exactly fire. It reminds you of the initial crackle and spark of a fire but it’s chaotic in its power. It buzzes louder and louder until there’s a loud fizzing sound as the blue light explodes from his palm.

It lights up the room but soars across to strike the dummy right in the center of its chest.

“Wow!” You nearly yell, the booming in your ears deafening still.

His Majesty turns towards you with a smirk, a cat’s grin as he peels off the gauntlet he’s wearing and with it the chest piece it’s attached to.

“Is it magic?” You ask him, hearing going back to normal.

“Science.” He counters, piling his armor up on the empty table where he’d placed his mask. “And a little bit of magic, yes.”

“What kind of science?” You wonder, knowing nothing about science, your curiosity is peaked.

“Chemistry. It took me a long time to figure out the right combination but a little copper sulfate, some special water, a few other ingredients and of course, the magic that gives my little light show a nice blue glow.” His Majesty says.

“And the magic?” You ask him, desperate to understand but already completely lost. Copper sulfate?

“It’s a root. Nothing I’ve ever seen before. Grown by one of the witches in the East woods. She taught me how to do it and how to use its properties.” He explains.

“You got instructions from a witch?” You wonder, shocked by this revelation more than knowing that he is the Iron Knight.

“They’re not all bad. Some of them just wanna be left alone. It’s her own creation. The root.” He places the last bit of his armor aside then massages his wrist.

“Does it hurt, your Maje-”

“Ah, ah.” He frowns at you, his bearded lips contorted into a small pout.

“Father.” You correct yourself. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. And it’s Man, by the way.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Iron Man. Not Iron Knight. I don’t want people to think he’s of noble birth.” He explains.

“Oh.” You think. “But you are of noble birth.”

“Yes. But I want people to feel like anyone could be the Iron Man. They should all feel like they can take power back in their own kingdom whether it’s from an oppressive lord or a schoolyard bully. My people should be able to stand up for themselves.” He says passionately, moving to sit on a stool and roll up the white sleeves of his shirt.

“Anyway,” He begins, “Let’s forget about the Iron Man for now. Steve has written back about your portrait.”

Oh, man, there are those nerves again. You can feel the lightheadedness working its way back in.

“And wh-what did he say?” You lick your lips and move to stand closer.

Tony reaches into his vest pocket and unfolds a piece of paper before holding it out for you.

“Read it.” He tells you, and hesitantly you take it.

“I-I don’t know how to read just yet.” You admit, feeling shame once again.

“Sound it out. You know how to say your letters, right?”

Damn. Okay…time to give this a try. “First word is ‘I’.”

Easy enough.

“Good.” Father says.

“I ‘C-A-N’ with a t? Can’t?”

He nods.

“Wooo-wuu-wah-it?” You say the word a few times in your head. “Oh, ‘wait’?”

Another nod.

“I can’t wait…t-o..to. I can’t wait to ‘mee-eet her.’” You beam up at him, then look back down at the painfully short note. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Okay. You’re too slow. That was torture. Give it here.” He reaches for it and you hurry to hand it to him then move around behind him to look over his shoulder at the words.

“Tony, I can’t wait to meet her. She has nice eyes. Bring her tomorrow. We can marry the day after. Sincerely, His Royal Majesty…blah blah blah…you get the picture.” Father begins to fold up the letter, but you throw your hand over his shoulder gently, reaching for it.

“Can I keep it?” You smile at him, neck and ears burning.

“Sure, kid. Keep it.” He hands it over then gets up and moves to his tables of scraps and projects.

“Did he really say that I have nice eyes?” You unfold the piece of paper and look for the word eyes. How was that spelt again?

“Yes. He says that about every girl though, so don’t get your hopes up.” He says, dashing your dreams.

“Oh.” You sigh, moving to sit on the stool he’d been on.

“Don’t worry, kid. It just means that he isn’t sure what to think. He’ll have more of an idea when he sees you in person. I saw the picture and it doesn’t do you justice. You’ll knock his socks off.” He promises. “You’re my kid, remember?”

You nearly smile but you’re reminded that in two days’ time, you’ll be married.

“I want to make him happy, father.” You sigh, melancholy.

“You will. Just…don’t rush it. Get to know him.” He looks up at you and stares right back into your own sorrowful gaze.

He puts his tools down and moves to you, placing his hands on your arms.

“Look, I know what I’m asking of you. I didn’t even want to let Morgana do this because I want her to have what I have with her mother.”

“It’s okay.” You smile and give him a shrug.

“But it isn’t.” He frowns. “You deserve to marry for love to, Y/N. And I’m sorry for being selfish enough to ask you to do this for us, but-”

“I think I am.” You admit, sadness overtaking your chest to make it ache. “I’ve never met him. I know that he will not be what I’m expecting but Natasha has told me about him. About the person he was before Queen Margaret died and if I’d had to choose the qualities that I would want in a husband, he has almost all of them.”

“But he’s different now. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” You ask him, nearly laughing.

“No.” Father says, shaking his head, no laughing for him. “No. What I’m trying to say is don’t give yourself to him completely. Not for a while. Keep your guard up and don’t let him break you.”

“Is he really that altered?” You wonder, no more worried than you were before.

“He’s not the same Steve. If you have to love him, love him in secret. Don’t tell him. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t give him that power over you. Promise me that you’ll think about yourself first.”

You know that he means well but becoming King Rogers’s wife…it means dedicating your life to the crown. To your future people. To your husband. Maybe, just to appease him, you can give him a little lie?

“I promise. I won’t let myself fall in love with him completely.” You smile at him and he relaxes.

“Good. Now, about your dress…”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Father…” You begin, “You’ve been staring at me for half an hour.”

He looks at the Queen beside him, Pepper, mother to you now. She’s smiling at him knowingly. She shakes her head at him and then looks out the window.

“Sorry. I’m just…about what you saw last night-”

“I won’t say anything.” You promise him. “And anyway, nothing happened last night. I didn’t see anything, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I told you, you have nothing to worry about with this one.” Mother tells him.

“I didn’t think I did.” He replies with a gruff.

“He was up half the night, worried that he’d scared you.” Mother tells you.

“Pepper…” He grumbles.

“I know that this is all for show.” You start, smiling at them as they look away from their silent argument to you. “I know that it all kind of just happened and I was at the right place at the right time, but I appreciate your kindness. It’s been a long time since I’ve had parents and this past week has almost felt like I’ve had them back.

“I know it isn’t real but, you really do feel like my mother and father and I’m grateful. Thank you.”

For a moment, while you thank them, you let your mind think of them as they truly are. Your King and Queen.

They exchange a long look before they both reach out to take one of your hands. His Majesty the right, and the Queen the left.

“From the day that we took you in and until the day that you die, sweetheart, you will be our daughter. We’ve already added your name into our family register. You are now and forever officially a Stark. We can never repay what you have given not only us but your sister as well.

“When we find her, we’ll make sure she knows what you did for her.” Her Majesty says, eyes slightly misted.

“Kind of feels like we’re on the losing end having to lose a daughter we just found.” His Majesty says, and you nod with a smile, knowing exactly what he means.

“Once I learn how to write properly. I will write all the time.” You promise.

Her Majesty gives a small chuckle then the carriage jerks to a stop.

“We’re here, your Majesty.” Peter’s voice chimes in from the front of the carriage.

Time to meet your future husband.

~~~~~~~~~~

Father gives you a new dress. Beautiful silk sky blue fabric with white lace sewn in at the bust and wrists. The top of the sleeves are slightly puffed, and the skirt flows out, more lace along the bottom. It hugs your figure and Natasha ties your corset extra tight today, if only to accentuate your bosom.

“Maybe he’s a breasts man?” She shrugs.

Your neck burns.

She leave your hair down, as instructed by his Majesty, your father, long wavy curls left to flow down along your shoulders.

On your head she places a simple diamond tiara, small sapphires spread throughout the base to accentuate the blue of your dress.

All too soon you’re moving with hastened steps behind Natasha towards a room called the council chamber.

As you walk, you take the opportunity to look the castle over.

You’ve been in such a rush that you hadn’t really allowed yourself a proper look. You know that there are large round towers made of pink granite, the main structures of the castle are white marble. The roofs you can see a you pass yet another window—as they are numerous in this castle—are a dark blue slate. The colors go well together and make an aesthetically pleasing palette.

Inside the colors are darker, with deep chocolate oak wood walls and dark gray floors and ceilings. All the light fixtures however are in shades of silver and gold, bright colors to illuminate the darker tones of the interior.

There are also plenty of colorful carpets, pictures, and vases with flowers. Your future home is very warm in its décor and if it is any indication as to the style of the man you are about meet, you may not have anything to worry about after all.

You find Peter already waiting inside the room with Mother and Father also standing off to the side. Natasha shows you in, straight to the center of the room before a large high-backed chair embellished with golden etchings along the arm rests and back.

As Natasha fusses over your dress and hair, the rest of the room is absolutely silent. The nerves in the quiet are enough to drive you mad.

You wish someone would say something. Anything.

You’re already dying of nervousness. Why can’t they try and alleviate your mood?

Wringing your hands nervously, you turn to look at father who gives you an encouraging smile, mother also looking kindly.

Peter is chewing on his lip and Natasha moves to slap your hands away.

“Stop that.” She gasps.

“I’m nervous.” You admit, grieving silently.

“Me too.” She agrees.

“What?!” You gasp, quietly.

“What?” She shrugs. “I’m nervous for you.”

“I thought you said you knew him?”

“I did. Before his wife died.” She sighs. “He’s changed since then, and I don’t know what he’s really like anymore.”

It feels like you’re about to burst into tears when the large double doors behind the tall chair—which you now realize is a type of throne—open. Instead of the blonde you’ve been itching to finally see in person, your heart relaxes when a familiar long haired and blue-eyed knight enters the room.

He stops beside the throne and looks at father first, hand on his sword while the other is straight at his side.

“Your Majesties.” He bows politely, then turns to you. “Your Highness.”

The smile he gives you is one of encouragement and you appreciate it.

“His Royal Majesty, King Rogers, wonders if he and the Princess might be left to meet alone?” James meets Natasha’s eyes and you can see a quick silent communication between them before she’s reaching down for your hand.

“Listen, don’t speak until you’re spoken to. Smile if you think you should. Don’t mention the old Queen, and definitely don’t slip up about…well, you know. Keep conversation light. No swearing.” She’s rushing through these instructions and fussing with your hair and dress.

Your heart begins to panic.

“You’re leaving me?” You whine.

“Just for a few minutes.” She promises. “I’ll be right outside that door. Okay?”

“Nat…?” You swallow hard, wishing your nerves away. “What if he doesn’t-?”

“He just has to marry you.” She reminds you. “Nothing else matters. Once he’s married you, then you can worry about making him fall in love with you. Alright?”

“What if-?”

“It’s time.” She smiles. “Once step at a time. Good luck, your Highness.”

She pulls her hand out of your own firmly, and follows your mother, father, and Peter out of the room the way you’d first come in.

As the doors close, Natasha sends you one last smile before she’s out of sight.

“Nervous?” The deep familiar voice asks, and you turn to James with your breath held.

You nod. He’s wearing an outfit similar to when you met him two days ago, only today it’s dark blue instead of black.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I was there when he saw your portrait and-”

“Please don’t raise my expectations, Sir James.” You sigh. “I can’t stand it.”

“Bucky, your Highness, if you please. And if that is your wish…I will show his Majesty in now.” He offers, and gestures to the doors he’d marched in through.

You nod and watch as he leaves the room again.

For sixty long seconds you stand alone at the center of this large room where chairs line the walls. You consider making a run for it because anything is better than this waiting and then suddenly, he’s there.

Behind the chair, he walks in, wide steps made by long legs. A narrow waist hidden underneath a form fitting aqua blue vest, silver trimmings embroidered along both sides of his wide chest and collar. Underneath the vest is a plain white blouse cinched at the wrists with a small ruffle around the base of his hand where it then puffs out slightly. He looks cool, as if the fabric were flowing with a relaxing breeze.

His lower body looks powerful, muscled and thick covered in dark gray trousers, but your eyes linger there for only a moment because you’re already searching for the kindly blonde face you’ve been staring at for days in the portrait you have.

What you find instead is long blonde hair, not as long as Bucky’s but long enough to flow in waves along the sides of his face, parted along the middle. The clean-shaven face from the portrait is covered in a thick neatly trimmed beard. It all comes together to make a manly visage. He might tear solid logs in two if he tried, he looks that strong.

He’s older than he’d been in the portrait you have and there’s a sadness in his storm blue eyes that is there instead of the blue sparkle of curiosity you’ve come to expect.

He walks with his hands behind his back and stops a few feet in front of you, staring at you just as you’re staring at him. Appraising you.

He’s just as beautiful as he is in his portrait but still a little different.

Suddenly, you remember yourself and you quickly curtsy, averting your gaze down to his black boots.

Neither of you speaks as you bow and the endless minute that you just endured spreads into a few endless more.

The silence is deafening and when your legs finally begin to ache, you shut your eyes to force yourself to remain in position.

“Stand up, your Highness.” He says, his voice is deep and even. Full of authority and impatience. A little colder than you expected. “I trust your trip went well?”

Slowly you stand up, finally tearing your eyes away from his feet to look back into those storm blue eyes. They’re not sad anymore, rather, they look slightly annoyed. Angry? No. Irritated.

“It was a very good trip, your Majesty. Thank you for asking.” You reply, a little too quiet because you haven’t been breathing.

More silence. He stares at you. Relentless. No smiles. No hint as to what he might be thinking. Only a scowl, thick eyebrows drawn in at the center, eyes brooding and sad. Like he wants to say something but won’t.

Finally…

“Why are you doing this?” He suddenly asks, taking a step towards you.

“Your Majesty?”

“This marriage. This whole thing, why? You could have anyone. You’re a princess.”

“I…” How do you answer that honestly? Natasha did say you’d have to lie on your feet. You hadn’t expected for it to be this soon. “I want to-to make my father happy.”

“Mm.” King Rogers says, understanding this reason but also unsatisfied. “Any other reasons?”

And as you stare at his handsome face, you know that what you’re about to say is most definitely not a lie, so you’ll tell him. At least there are some things you’ll be able to be true about.

“When I saw your portrait…” You begin, wondering if this is giving away too much. No…it’s good for him to know where you stand, right?

“My portrait? What portrait?” He asks, taking a step towards you but not moving forward.

You hurry to grab the compact from your dress pocket and unhook the clasp to show him.

He moves in closer, the heat of his body overtaking you and momentarily dulling your mind.

“When I saw it…I decided that I…I wanted to make you happy.” You admit and look up to find him staring at you, brow furrowed even deeper.

His stern expression makes your hope waver. What does it mean? That intense glower?

“That’ll never happen.” He tells you, his voice hard, defensive.

“Your Majesty?” You ask, slightly confused.

When he speaks, his voice is intimate, quiet, and sure. He says it right beside you, close enough that his whisper is as loud as a shout and it hits you just as hard. The pleasantness of his voice making your skin pimple while the harsh truth in it fills you with dread.

“You will never make me happy. Never.” He promises, then moves away from you back towards the doors behind his throne. “We’ll get married in the morning. Tell Tony I accept his offer.”

As he vanishes from view, taking his beautiful brooding face with him, he leaves behind the tiny shreds of your hope, completely eviscerated by his cool declaration that you—specifically you—will never make him happy. Never.

1K notes · View notes

charbax · 3 years

Photo

In The Woods Somewhere

The aftermath of a hunt, and a bond forged in the dark. A Striktor mythical au inspired by Speck’s posts here and here.

A/N: I wrote this two years ago, forgot about it, then dusted it off and decided to finish it just in time for halloween!! Gosh I miss writing these two.

Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

AO3 link here!

The thirst was the first thing Strix was aware of - it ached in his throat and stomach, carving out something hollow. His tongue darted out and licked dry lips, and he swallowed, trying to wet his mouth.

The next thing he was aware of was the barn ceiling above him. Strange. He usually didn't rest in buildings so close to people- The thought sent a bolt of fear through his heart. He sat up suddenly, then regretted the action immediately afterwards when his head spun. A hand gripped his shoulder, steadying him. "Hey, easy there." A familiar voice said. Instantly, Strix's guard lowered, if only by a minuscule amount. Something pressed against his lips. "It's not blood." Viktor explained. "Just water, drink it slowly." Strix accepted it nonetheless, placing a hand over Viktor's to control the slow trickle of liquid. It wasn't enough to fully alleviate his thirst, but at least the ache subsided to something manageable, something he could think past. Once he was done, he asked, "Where?" "The barn just outside of town. You passed out after we drove the knife into the monster. I carried you here. Well, I wanted to bring you to a real bed but," Viktor frowned. "Apparently killing a monster and saving their children wasn't enough for a decent room. The economy is in shambles." He emphasised the last part with a weak grin. Strix snorted in amusement. Viktor continued. "How're you holding up?" Strix's whole body ached, and had him wishing he was asleep again, but he soldiered on. "Tired, mostly." "Want some alone time so you can sleep?" "...not really." Strix admitted. He leaned back, holding the cup in his lap. "I want to know what happened when I was asleep." And so Viktor told him - after he had passed out, Viktor carried him all way out of the winding caves and back to town, where they had been greeted warmly by the townspeople, who were holding torches, and pitchforks ("I'm being sarcastic," Viktor clarified with an exaggerated whisper). According to the them, they recognised a vampire when they saw an unconscious one, and had prepared if Viktor was underneath its thrall. Luckily, the head of the monster was proof enough to convince that they were harmless, but even so, the townfolk were suspicious of the vampire, the one responsible for the disappearances of the children. "After that, I headed back to your home, where the children were." Viktor raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry. It was the only way to convince people not to burn you while they had a chance. After all, kidnapping's still kidnapping, even if it was to keep them safe." Strix winced as he looked at his lap, but didn't deny it. A hand covered his own. "Hey." Viktor continued. "Once they saw their children safe, they warmed up pretty fast. The village leader just wants to talk to you." "...alright." Strix said. "Right. Be right back." Viktor got up and ducked outside. Strix spent the next few minutes sipping his water and thinking about slipping out of the window while he had the chance. But Viktor's face flashed in his mind. So he only nervously tapped his fingers against the cup and waited. A while later, Viktor returned with the elder in tow. Straightened up, trying to keep his face blank and non-threatening, as if he was just another person and not a creature of the night. "Hello." The elder greeted. At least he wasn't carrying a pitchfork, small blessings. "I believe you were the one who stole the babes from their cribs." For the second time in a short period, Strix avoided the gazes in the room. He looked into his cup and tried not to let shame rise hot to his cheeks. "But you kept them safe from the true monster, so I suppose that explains it." The elder continued. "I wasn't going to keep them forever." Strix began. "Until it moved on. My strength is nothing against the monster's own." "That answered my next question. Was that why you did not go after it yourself?" "My presence cloaked the kids. If I died trying to kill it, then it would come after them." The elder stared at him, impassively, his face giving nothing away. Strix tried not to squirm underneath the slightly narrowed eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor cross his arms and subtly inch closer to Strix. How relieving it was, to have someone like Viktor on his side, Strix supposed. Finally, the village head nodded, seemingly placated. "I understand. You may rest here for a three days as thanks, then take your leave. The others were already fearful of the monster. Do not make them fearful of the child-taker as well.” Strix nodded mutely. The elder gave one more stern look, then took his leave. Viktor turned to him with a grin. "See? Nothing to be worried about." He said. Strix grunted, agreement or disagreement, discretion to the listener. He leaned back onto his makeshift bed - a cloth over some hay, now that he could feel it scratch underneath him - and closed his eyes. "You have plans after this?" He asks, chest lighter now that the main threat was gone. "No idea. Probably head east, to the coast. Then who knows?" Strix hummed thoughtfully. Of course. Viktor seemed the type to be a roamer, no home, no past to weigh him down, a lone wolf borne of man. After all, that's how they met – on a job. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what Strix was trying to himself since they’ve entered that cave. Seemingly having nothing else to add, Viktor leaned back into his chair and gazed out the window. And since Strix had seemingly nothing else to reply, he let comfortable silence fall over them. Strix continued watching Strix, and wondered what jobs would await Viktor. It didn’t occur to him to think about what he himself was going to do next, save for the immediate need to leave the village as soon as possible. - After all that, Viktor got paid the tidy sum he was contracted for, no more, no less, and that’s how he liked it. He also gets the admiration of the local teens who dream of escaping their little village. That part he’s less pleased with. This isn’t the type of job he’d recommend as a future career – the pay wasn’t constant, the transit depends if he has a horse or not, and not to mention the life-threatening danger of the work is enough to deter mostly anyone with common sense. There’s a reason why there’s not many monster hunters in the first place. Still, he hung around. No reason not too. The money is more than enough to fund his next job, and it’s rare he has some downtime to just enjoy the place, even if it’s just a small town in the middle of nowhere. It gives him more time to actually hang out with one of the less annoying - but just as persistent – village youths. Said youth was leaning back on the tree contently, twirling a small knife as she watched Viktor. “So you really ain’t gonna take me?” Kinessa said with a touch of forlornness. “Told you already kid. This kind of work ain’t for nice young’uns like you-” “Oh yeah? Can a kid do this?” With that, she twirled her knife around one last time then threw it at the opposite tree trunk. It landed with a solid thunk! She grinned at him as he shook his head. “Don’t remember teaching you that one.” “Yeah, got it from-” Kinessa stopped suddenly, her eyes darting fervently. Viktor too glanced around, but the only things listening were the trees and the gentle wind of autumn. They relaxed. “Got it from Strix. It’s one of the few things he taught me while we were staying at his place. Y’know, it wasn’t that bad being looked after him, apart from the cabin fever. He certainly made sure everyone was fed.” Viktor didn’t really know much about what Strix did when he was hiding the children. He only remembered seeing those wide eyes staring at him in fear. He could still recall seeing the openly scared kids huddling behind the sniper’s outstretched arm like a brood to a mother bird. It was only when Viktor lowered the rifle to the floor and raise his hands did Strix take his finger off the trigger. He was shaken from his memories when Kinessa spoke again. “Wonder what’s he doing right now.”’ Yes, Viktor was thinking the same thing – he hadn’t heard hide nor feather from Strix even since then. He was like a ghost of the village, where everyone did their best not to acknowledge that the so-called ‘terror of the night’ was, in fact, a very nice cryptid who just wanted to live in peace. Which the villagers granted him a lot, yes, but only in the physical sense. Reputation wise, it hadn’t changed that much from before, as Kinessa had been telling him. They just also added kidnapper to his extensive repertoire. Which, in Viktor’ opinion, was less than what Strix truly deserved. Viktor’s gaze fell on the woods, and he wondered. – It’s much easier to navigate the deer paths now, in the daylight, rather than the middle of the dark on a morbid mission. The twisting paths are no match for years of hunting experience, so it takes an almost laughably short time to reach Strix’s cottage. Two visits in two weeks, someone’s becoming popular. Bet he’s gonna shock Strix out of...whatever Strixes do with free time and no children to guard. When he knocked on the front door, he had to wait until the door inched open, revealing a pair of amber eyes that were narrowed in suspicion before they widened. “Viktor?” “The one and only. Can I come in?” Strix wordlessly opened the door and let Viktor step into the hideout. He’s still staring at him. Viktor grinned. “Shocking right? I’m capable of knocking on the front door instead of smashing it in during the middle of the night.” The right side of Strix’s mouth twitched. A smile? “What are you doing here?” “You invited me in?” “I mean,” Strix’s smile deepened. “I thought you would have left the village by now.” “Well that was the plan. I can tell you all about it if you want.”

Strix blinked, then nodded. Viktor sank down onto one of the chairs. Strix still hovered by the door. “Do you want to take a seat?"

"That's my line, but I supposed you already answered." Strix said, shaking his head ever so slightly, but he sat down on the other free seat.

Viktor looked around the room, taking note of the cleanliness now there was an absence of missing children. He did, however, note the various wilted flowercrowns and small toys lining the mantle of the fireplace. Something was bubbling away in it, smelling absolutely delicious. "Gifts from the kids?" Viktor asked, nodding to the fireplace.

"Not really. I would go to return them but," Strix paused. "I feel I'm not welcomed at the village. They need time to recover."

Really, in Viktor's humble opinion, the villagers should be showering Strix in gratitude and gold for slaying the beast, but that's him. Strix's voice broke his silent grumblings.

"I doubt that you're here to check on my well-being. What brings you?"

Viktor scratched the back of his head. "Actually, that's exactly what I was doing." Strix blinked at him. Viktor fidgeted self-consciously. "What, never had someone check up on you?"

Strix shook his head, wide-eyed, like an owl.

"Huh." Viktor said intelligently. He leaned back, one arm hung over the back of the seat. "Thought you and that kid, Kinessa..."

"It's for the best she doesn't." Came the terse reply.

Viktor didn't respond to that. Strix continued staring at a spot on the patched wall. "She still thinks of you." Viktor continued.

"I'd rather not talk about this now."

Viktor relented, willing to let it go for now, then grinned as he recalled an earlier misadventure. "Want to hear about how I managed to sneak my way into something called the Thousand Hand guild and stole the leader's sword?"

The troubled look cleared away with a smile, like sunlight parting through stormy clouds.

"...and then that was when I realised, the knight was rescuing the dragon, not the damsel!"

Mirth lit the planes of Strix's planes, warm as the glow from the firelight as it cast dancing shadows over the both of them. Viktor didn't even realise it was nightfall until he was studying the planes of Strix's face in the semi-darkness, how it sharpened and softened it all at once. Supper was a long gone memory, and the mulled wine was sitting heavy and pleasant in his gut. He hadn't had enough to be truly drunk, no, but it was sharing a secret every time he sipped and caught Strix's eye.

Strix had loosened up, as loose as a creature of the night can truly be while looking over their shoulder - he was noticeably more slouched, trying his best to melt into the furs, or into Viktor's side of the bench. Sometime in the evening, Viktor had moved from sitting opposite of Strix to next to him, a warm presence in the dark of the room. "I mean," Strix smirked. "He was wearing a helmet. Maybe he didn't see."

"Nah, he definitely saw. If he didn't, he would've definitely felt when he hefted the scaly son of a bastard onto his shoulder and took off!"

Strix wasn't being silent all the time though. He occasionally spoke up, to put in a wry comment or a interesting fact about some of the monsters Viktor faced, and Viktor found himself nodding along the more Strix spoke. Or maybe he was nodding off because of the warmth from the fire, or the sudden shock of heat to his gut when Strix's eyes flicked to his own.

"Hey, Strix." Viktor said. "Doesn't it get lonely out here?"

Strix's eyes glowed amber in the firelight as he answered, "Sometimes."

Viktor's throat clicked as he swallowed, and he summoned all the courage he had, even more than facing the child-eating monster, to lay a hand on Strix's knee. Warmth shot up his arm and pooled in his stomach. "You don't have to be. Not tonight." He leaned closer to Strix, closer to the intoxicating scent of forest and the night and just him. Still, he hovered just over Strix’s lips, with enough distance for Strix to pull away, in case Viktor had read all the signs wrong.

He didn't. Strix closed the distance with a surge.

Then Viktor didn’t have to worry afterwards.

"They still want me dead, y'know." Strix murmured from his position on Viktor's chest.

Viktor made a rumbling noise of question, eyes closed, too blissed out to properly answer. He felt Strix stroke his jaw with careful fingers. "And you, by association."

Viktor peeked open one eye open at Strix. "Didn't we just save the livelihood of their village?"

"Yes. Also risked your neck for the town's 'ghost monster'." Strix continued, even when Viktor opened both his eyes to frown at him. "Their willful ignorance won't last long. Sooner or later they'll try to run you out for standing up for me. They still blame me for attracting the beast to them."

Viktor propped himself up on one elbow, carefully maneuvering Strix to look at him in the eyes. "Bullshit. You saved their children. They still believe you're still bad?"

"They're fearful of what they don't know."

Strix's face looked forlorn that Viktor reached down to kiss it off and smooth out the frown. Strix definitely looked a lot more calmer once Viktor pulled away, but there was still a concerned wrinkle in his brow. "You should leave this place while you still can."

"Or what, they'll re-fetch the pitchforks and run me out of town?"

Strix gave him a blank look, and Viktor realised that yes, Strix really did mean that.

"Huh."

Maybe Strix had a point. It was high time he moved on anyway, places to visit, people to see, monsters to hunt. "What about you, though? Will you be alright?"

"I had the moniker 'Ghost Feather' for a reason. I know how to disappear when I need to."

'But you shouldn't have to hide,' Viktor thought, 'You shouldn't have to fear for your life, when you take place in this world too.'

He kept his mouth though, and wondered again.

"This is goodbye, isn't it." Strix said.

Viktor hummed in agreement. They stood in front of Strix's cottage, next to the sprawling wildflowers and untamed grass. Even the sun was shining, ignorant of the ache in Strix's chest as he looked over his home.

"Didn't think I would make good memories here. You proved me wrong." Strix came closer to Viktor and clasped his hand with appreciation. "I'll surely remember this. Even when this house rots to the earth."

Viktor smiled at that. "m'glad then." He grasped the back of Strix’s neck and pulled down, tipping his head so he could touch his forehead with Strix’s own, trying to postpone the inevitable. Strix opened his mouth.

"Viktor, I-"

There was the sound of a door being slammed open. "Would you two lovebirds hurry up?" Kinessa called as she hurried up the dirt path, rucksack secure on her shoulder. "Daylight's burning and I want to see the citadel before sunset."

Strix sighed, a warm breath of affection and annoyance. Viktor said, "Hey, you wanted to being the kid along, that makes her your protégé."

The side of Strix's mouth ticked upwards. "And you?"

"...that makes me yours too. Whatever of me you’ll want, it's yours.”

They both steadfastly ignored the retching noises Kinessa was making behind their backs. Viktor took Strix's hand and grinned at him. "Ready?"

Strix smiled back, brighter than any gold. "Yes."

And together, they stepped out into the sunlight.

#striktor #strix ( paladins )#viktor ( paladins )#Paladins: Champions of the Realm #paladins champions of the realm #pcotr #charwriting #charedit

21 notes · View notes

nekoannie-chan · 4 years

Text

Lover’s game

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Mutant Female! Reader

Word count: 1111 words.

Summary: Memories of some moments from your relationship with Steve minutes before your wedding.

Warnings: A little angst.

A/N: This is my entry to the @cockslut-padalecki‘s Lisa’s Back to the Movies Writing Challenge with the song:

“Take my breath away – Top Gun- Berlin”.

Flashbacks are in italic.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @saiyanprincessswanie @navybrat817 @realfbi @angrythingstarlight @pandaxnienke

youtube

Watching every motion

In my foolish lover's game On this endless ocean Finally lovers know no shame Turning and returning To some secret place inside Watching in slow motion As you turn around and say

Steve held his breath while the tie was settling in, he couldn't deny that he was very nervous, he had finally arrived on the day of the wedding, during the last few weeks he had taken care of anything that could ruin the day, and he wasn't going to let anything bad happen on such an important date for you. You had lived so many things, you had to separate at different times.

Take my breath away Take my breath away

Steve was sure he hadn't seen you while the STRIKE team was chasing them, suggesting Natasha go to your apartment, although he really needed to know if you were also HYDRA and you'd only used it, the last thing if it was true, it would leave him devastated.

You grumped when the bell rang again insistently. Who bothered you in your holiday week? Besides, you were having a dream, which you'd like to put into practice with Steve later.

When you opened the door, you kept your eyes squinting and your face was noisy.

"Steve? Nat? What are you doing here? Why are you covered with dust? Were you playing in the mud or what happened to you?”

They both saw each other and then saw you.

"Can we come in?” Steve asked suspiciously.

You set aside to let them through, you sighed, surely your holiday week was over and you were going to have to help them, even though you first needed to know what was going on.

After they told you everything, you were stunned, you'd never suspected the team you belonged to. You even understood that Project Insight had a different aim.

"How do we know you don't belong to HYDRA?” Natasha questioned.

"First, I didn't know my team was, second, I wasn't there when you were attacked, actually I didn't even know about Fury until you told me and third, I knew project Insight was something completely different from what you're telling me.”

Watching I keep waiting Still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones Turning and returning To some secret place to hide Watching in slow motion As you turn to me and say

"Steve, are you ready?” Bucky questioned, taking him out of his self-absorption.

“W-what? Sure, it's about time, isn't it?” Steve replied.

James only shook his head trying not to laugh, and then he pulled his friend, it was better to hurry to prevent him from fleeing because of panic in the last minute.

You saw your reflection in the mirror again and laughed a little as you remembered how you had met, you still remembered with satisfaction your ex-boyfriend's face when he found out about your relationship with Steve.

Take my breath away

That day, the training had ended in a fight, you and Rollins had started arguing, he still didn't want to accept that you had already ended your relationship and he claimed you'd had a date with someone else.

"STOP ARGUING! YOU'RE ADULTS, ACT LIKE ONE!” Brock shouted annoyed. You ignored him and you kept arguing, yet you shut up when you saw Fury come in followed by Steve. At that time you were informed that the missions would be done along with him.

"Hi, I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N," you introduced yourself once Nick left.

Through the hourglass I saw you In time you slipped away When the mirror crashed I called you And turned to hear you say If only for today I am unafraid

Natasha put the necklace on you and then hugged you.

"You're beautiful, but it's time to go, in a few minutes you'll become Mrs Rogers.”

"I hope nothing interrupts this moment...”

“Are you hesitating?”

"No, not at all, I'd just be terrified that something would happen or Steve would regret it," you replied.

"He won't, you've been through a lot, but if you don't want to get married, I'll go tell them...“

You and Natasha had been friends since you entered the Organization, even considered yourselves sisters even if biologically you weren't.

"I never said I wasn't getting married, I'm just nervous," you interrupted her. “It was very difficult when we had to flee, I was terrified that he would be sent to the Raft and me to a Mutant Detention Center.”

"You two deserve to be happy," Nat said.

Take my breath away Take my breath away

You heard noises in the living room while you were in the kitchen, you took the sharpest knife, even though you had an arm hurt by the last mission you'd gone to, you wouldn't hesitate to defend yourself if necessary, not to say that you would also use your powers.

"S-Steve? Why did you come in through the window and not through the door? "You inquired at the same time that you put the knife down.

"They're watching you, they're looking for me, and I can't get in through the front door.”

"What did you do?”

"I didn't sign the Accords and there were some problems with Bucky...," he shut up, took your hand and looked you right in the eye. “Did you sign the Accords?”

"No, I just refuse to do it.”

"We have to get out of here without being seen, I have to take you to a safe place before they take you as a hostage.”

"How are we going to get going?” You said they're watching my house.”

"But not the roof.”

You opened your eyes as big as you could, what Steve proposed sounded too dangerous to you.

"A-Are you sure? I remind you that I have a hurt arm and despite having powers I do not think I can survive from a fall from the roof...”

"Doll, I will make sure that nothing bad happens to you, just take as fast as you can the important things and we will run away, what do you think?”

You nodded, you went all the way to the bedroom and kept some things, and then he helped you up the roof.

"Walk slowly and carefully, there is nothing to fear," he whispered.

You were trying to take firm steps, however, it seemed impossible, probably only a few seconds passed, but it seemed like an eternity to you. When you finally got to the shelter, he told you everything that had happened, for safety he was going to leave you there, he didn't want anything bad to happen to you.

Watching every motion In this foolish lover's game Haunted by the notion Somewhere there's a love in flames Turning and returning To some secret place inside Watching in slow motion As you turn my way and say

"Little sis’ if you want we can run away, hide and no one will find us," Natasha joked as you walked towards the entrance.

"It sounds tempting, but I'll decline the invitation, Steve's waiting for me.”

Nat nodded, you stopped right at the entrance and helped you position the veil the right way.

At the altar Steve was already waiting for you with a big smile, finally, the dream you had had for a few years was coming true and nothing was going to stop it.

The ceremony began, you blinked a lot making a great effort not to cry, and it seemed implausible that this day had finally arrived, your dream was being fulfilled.

After you accept to become a wife and husband, you kiss.

Take my breath away Take my breath away Take my breath away Take my breath away

#backtothemovieschallenge #Back to the movies challenge #steve x mutant reader #steve x mutant female reader

21 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Apostate 2

Warnings: violence, needles, nonconsensual sex. (<--- hey you see that, that’s a warning, please heed it.)

This is dark!(hydra!)Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You awake to a startling revelation.

Note: Special shoutout to @buckybarnesplumwhore and @opheliadawnwalker3 who listened to me rant about this idea and I forgot to mention them before so shame on me. This is the conclusion of this two-parter and there is unlikely to be more but as always, it’s never impossible.

Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. If y’all want the inspo for this one, here it is. Thank you. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You awoke to voices. An argument distant as your eyelids refused to part more than a slit. You were weak, your throat burned, and your head pulsed. You laid on something cold and hard. The light was bright and blinding and your eyes watered as you fought to open them wider. Your arm was heavy as you dragged it over your torso and touched your cheekbone, bruised from the brick wall.

“You should have killed her,” A Russian accent insisted. “We have no need of her. You say she is loyal to Shield. She is better to us dead.”

“No use?” The familiar voice countered. “I did not ask of your use. What about mine? What about our deal?”

“We cannot know she is viable,” The Russian replied. “Even so, as we discussed, it is better to select a candidate we can… condition for you.”

“She is conditioned.” Steve insisted and your insides curdled at the recognition. “She is strong, as strong as you can find, and I know you have methods of… persuasion.”

“Even so, she might not be fit. We would have to examine her first and it is quite possible there are restrictions even we could not overcome.” The other man argued. “If that be the case, it would be wasted resources…”

“If that is the case, then you can kill her as you wish,” Steve retorted. “I can get her records from Shield before you start the tests. Does that work?”

“Hmm, it may save us unnecessary expense,” The Russian said thoughtfully. “She is awake.”

Your eyes fluttered open as you turned your head. You groaned and tried to sit up. Steve was quick and caught you before you could rise. He pushed you back down with his hand on your throat. He watched you squirm and your eyes threatened to roll back as you clawed at his grip.

“What tipped you off?” He asked with a smirk. The blare of light glowed around him and blurred your vision.

You shook your head and he tore his hand away. You coughed as his fingers tickled your shoulder.

“The same thing that will tip another off,” You croaked as you touched your throat. “Why didn’t you kill me? What ‘use’ do you have for me?”

He chuckled and shook his head as he rounded the metal table you laid across. “I don’t know that I have any for you,” He said. “But when I am sure, I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll never… could never turn my back on Shield. You know I won’t go along with you.” You snarled.

“Your will doesn’t matter here. As for Shield, they turned their back on me long before I did the same.” He snarled and spun back to the Russian man who watched curiously. “You got somewhere you can put her til I get back?”

“The cells,” The man said plainly.

“In cuffs preferably,” Steve turned around as you sat up shakily. “She likes a fight. Best to be certain.”

“We will have her restrained,” The Russian replied. “Sedated if necessary.”

“Good,” Steve grinned at you. “All the better.”

💀

You didn’t see Steve again. When you were taken from your cell, it was only the Russian accompanied by several men in white coats. Doctors? Nurses? You were assured when you were led to a sterile room, another metal table. Your blood turned cold as the heavy door shut behind you.

“Change,” The Russian man shoved a folded grey medical gown towards you. “Do it or we do it for you.”

You took it from him and turned away from him and the doctors. You undressed quickly and pulled on the stiff grey gown. You tied it at the back as one of the men in white scrubs collected your clothing. The Russian, in his brown suit and round spectacles, pointed to the table.

“Up.” He ordered.

“Chto ty budesh' delat' so mnoy (what will you do to me?)?” You asked. He raised his brows.

“Russkiy?” He wondered.

“YA govoryu eto tol'ko. (I only speak it)” You assured him.

“Ah,” He tilted his head and waved you forward once more. “Come. I think you would be eager to have this over with.”

“Not so sure about that,” You muttered as you neared the table. “You should just kill me.”

“Trust me, I agree,” He said. “But the soldier wishes for it. He is Hydra’s best.”

“A snake among a nest,” You climbed up. “You could say I struggled. I fought and it just happened.”

“But you do not?”

“Should I? Would your man…” You nodded to the guard along the far wall. “...pull that gun on his hip?”

“Only if he needs to,” The Russian said. “But only then.”

You gulped. Those words were not assuring. If it would take much for them to dispose of you, it meant they would stretch you as far as they could. You looked at the medical lamp, the tray of instruments, the machines; whatever they needed of you, it startled you worse than death.

You jumped off the table at once. The Russian tried to block you and you pushed him aside. Two doctors caught you, the guard’s hand was on his gun but he did not pull it. You struggled against the men as more joined the fray.

“Kill me,” You snapped at the Russian. “Ubey menya!”

You kicked one man as you wriggled an arm free. You punched another and spun away as you elbowed your way through the men in white. You stomped one foot, then another, pushing your way towards the door.

As you reached for the handle, you were pulled back. As you raised a fist, you felt a prick in your neck. The liquid burned in your veins as it flowed into you. You turned but stumbled forward to your knees. Your head swam and you leaned on your hands as your muscles turned weak.

You looked up at the Russian in his suit, the needle in his hand as he knelt before you.

“Only what is necessary…” His words floated into the void with you.

💀

You woke up. Cold metal again. Metal loops restrained neck, wrists, and ankles. Leather straps bound across chest, stomach, and thighs. You could barely turn your head as a shadow shifted in your peripheral. You didn’t need to look. The presence was familiar. Sickeningly so.

Steve’s hands settled on the edge of the table and he looked down at you. The grey gown remained, barely past your knees as the back left your skin bare to the icy table. He smirked and tickled along your arm as his eyes met yours; as cold as the metal beneath you.

“You must wonder why?” He began.

You tried to speak but were still weak. Your head was heavy and threatened to loll. Your eyes caught the sheen of silver and you looked over to the stand. An ivy bag trailed all the way to your arm; a machine stood beside the pole and beeped with your vitals.

“Why I went to Hydra.” He continued and his fingers continued to walk along your arm.

You muttered but no coherent words arose. He was amused by your struggle as he touched you, rubbing the hem of your sleeve between his fingers.

“Before the serum, even after, even in the ice, I saw the world as so black and white. As good versus evil.” He explained. “But I awoke to a bleak realization. That there was neither. No sacred balance. Just desire. A want for one thing or the other, but always for victory. That is what runs the world; not morality, not goodness… greed.”

You babbled and he shushed you as he caressed your cheek.

“You’ll be weak for a time. A couple days they say.” He ran his thumb over your chin. “But after, you’ll be ready.”

He bit his lip and drew away. A visible shudder went through him as he paced around you. It was hard to keep your sights on him. Your vision swam as your eyes threatened to shut.

“It is only that some are better at framing their desires as righteous.” He continued. “You know, Shield found me, they told me I still belonged in this world, that I still had work to do, a cause. Their cause.” His voice deepened. “Not my own. They never asked what I wanted.”

He stopped, his back to you as he stood at the end of the table.

“And when I asked for what I wanted, they wouldn’t give it to me. It didn’t matter how many lives I saved, how much I bled for them, they wouldn’t.”

He scoffed and started to pace again.

“Ethics, they claimed. It wouldn’t be safe. It wasn’t in their mandate to risk lives.” He snarled. “But where were their ethics when they injected me with this poison that turned me into a machine? Nothing more. When they knew it could fail, that I could have died.

“And after when I had not and they knew of the consequences, they still didn’t tell me. Not until I asked; until I demanded.” His fingers balled into a fist as he stopped beside you and his nostrils flared. He stared into your wide eyes. “They could help but they won’t. They only need their saviour.”

“S-Steve…” You forced out and bit your tongue painfully.

“Hydra. They are much more accommodating and they see the value in keeping me happy. In giving me what I want. What I’ve always wanted.” He smiled. “And you are their gift to me.”

“I…” You shook your head helplessly as your voice fizzled out.

“Somehow, Shield didn’t think it was dangerous not to tell me, but they were so careful to monitor me. To make sure that I was surrounded by their moles; intriguing but unattainable. Keep me distracted.”

His hand crawled along your neck and chest.

“I’d never have the chance to figure it out on my own but I was curious what was in those files and they didn’t have the guts to lie to me once I had the evidence.” He sneered. “It’s unethical for me to have a life, a family of my own, because why? It’s not impossible but it is with its conditions.”

You shook your head dazed.

“A woman cannot carry my child unaided. It could kill her. The serum could tear her apart and yet that very serum is in me and they had the means to neutralise it. Just not for anything beyond their own puppets.”

His hand was on your stomach and he stared at it.

“Well, they don’t even know I’ve cut the strings and how could they? I’m still doing their little dance, I’m just a step ahead.” He felt your stomach firmly and nodded. “Hydra recognizes the value of its arms. It does not cut the finger off to spite the hand.”

“Y-you--” You sputtered and tried to lift your head only for it to fall back heavily.

“Once their solution has run its course, you will be ready,” He slowly rescinded his hand and neared your head once more. “They are confident that you should not be adverse to the task you’ve been chosen for. A viable candidate, they assured me.”

He tapped the metal table beside your head and chuckled. He turned away swiftly as the beeping of the machine picked up. Your heart was racing. Your nerves were haywire and your blood was both hot and cold at once.

“It’ll pass,” His voice was distant. “Your body only needs to adjust. To prepare.”

💀

You didn’t know how long it was before you woke fully. There were spurts of consciousness but those were veiled and shadowed. Figures moved around you, fiddled with the machine or adjusted the needle in your arm.

When at last your eyes opened fully and you could do more than murmur and groan, the machine quit its beeping as you felt the cuff unhooked from your other arm. The needle removed without care and the blood blotted with a cotton ball. They unlocked the metal loops and unbuckled the leather straps.

You watched them with dread. In your rare seconds of lucidity, you prayed for death but it hadn’t come for no hell could be as grim as this.

The men in white scrubs helped you stand but you didn’t need their shoulders. You felt almost… refreshed. But nothing had changed. You looked as you had. Your body the same as always. There were changes that could not be seen. You knew it. You felt it.

You tried to pull away and an electric shock jolted you. The guard behind you raised the prod in his hand in warning.

“We don’t need you awake,” The Russian stood in the door. “But it would be easier for all involved if you were.”

You shook your head and lowered your chin. You let them lead you from the room and down the frigid hall. The next room was empty and lit by lights on a high ceiling. Shower heads lined the wall in undivided stalls. The men in scrubs untied your gown and the Russian nudged you.

“Wash,” He said. “Again, not a necessity but preferable.”

You inhaled deeply before you stepped forward. You walked across the tile and cranked the faucet until the water rained over you. You closed your eyes and tried to bask in the steam that rose around you. There was no washing away the taint of Hydra.

You were given a robe when you finished. Nothing else. You were marched down the hall again. A longer walk this time. A set of stairs and another corridor. It seemed like a dream in that it passed both quickly and slowly and yet it was all too real.

A man in white opened the door and the Russian doctor nodded. “Go. It will end sooner if you just do it.”

It might be true but it didn’t make the inevitable easier. You scowled and forced yourself forward. You blanched as Steve awaited you inside. The door shut with a clang and you looked around.

The room was as sterile as any. A bed, on which the super soldier sat watching you, a small metal table beside it. A single chair in the corner. It was barren and another door stood on the left wall; sealed like the one behind you.

“I’m supposed to be in Johannesburg,” He leaned back on his hand and pushed his legs apart. “Reconnaissance. They won’t know any different as long as the feed isn’t interrupted.”

You were silent. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

“I did you a favour. I kept you alive.” He said.

“I’d rather you hadn’t.” You hissed.

“Not only that, I pulled back the mask for you to see what Shield truly is.”

“No, you only pulled back your own,” You insisted.

He sighed and his eyes darkened. “Well…” He swayed his left leg, “I didn’t bring you here to argue.” He looked you up and down pointedly. “You can lose the robe.”

“You can’t be serious about this, Steve…”

“Can’t say I didn’t think about it before. They make those suits so damn tight,” He mused. “Maybe one time on a mission… but never really imagined much beyond that.”

“What happened to you?”

He huffed and it turned to a growl as he sat up and planted his feet. He leaned his elbows on his legs. “Shut up or I’ll make you. We’re done talking.”

You stared at him and swallowed. Your throat was tight and dry. You lowered your head and carefully unknotted the belt of the robe. You kept your hands steady though you wanted to shake. It was so surreal it felt entirely farcical. It couldn’t be real but that was Steve Rogers. A man as corruptible as any.

You let go of the belt and the robe fell open. You lifted your head and stared above him. You couldn’t look at him. You dropped the robe down your arms and swept it away in a single resigned motion. Steve shifted on the bed and you flinched at the sound of the springs.

“Come here,” He ordered.

You braced yourself and took measured steps towards him. You thought of the Russian’s words. The sooner it began, the sooner it ended. There was no fight to be had. That much was clear. Even if you managed to elude Steve, there would be at least two guards outside that door and countless others beyond.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you between his legs as you got near. You clenched your teeth as his palms brushed over your sides and he cupped your tits. His thumbs flicked your nipples and he pushed your tits together. He was taunting you.

His hand trailed down your stomach as one lingered on your chest. He slid two fingers along the line of your vee.

“Legs apart,” He demanded and forced his fingers between your thighs.

You obeyed and stiffened as he slipped between your lips. He flitted over your bud and circled it. You inhaled and stared at the wall. He was drawing it out. His punishment for your curiosity. You cringed as you grew aroused and he spread the wetness along your folds.

“I read somewhere that conception is encouraged when the woman… gets off.” He leaned closer and dragged his lips along your stomach as his hot breath sent a chill through you. “The doctors however tell me I shouldn’t be very concerned. The serum enhanced all of me.”

You struggled to stand still. He pushed further back until he was at your entrance. He pressed his thumb to your clit and shoved his middle finger inside you. He pulled in and out several times until your thighs quivered. You shuddered and turned your head to hide your shame.

He added another finger and rocked his hand rhythmically. Your nails dug into your thighs as you bit down the moans. You shook your head and closed your eyes as your breath grew faster.

“There’s no hiding.” He sped up with a chuckle. You quaked and shielded your face with your hands as you came. You grunted into your palms as he forced you through your orgasm.

You stilled only when he pulled out of you. The air cooled your hot pussy as he stood suddenly and you nearly fell over. He grabbed you by the arm and shoved you toward the bed.

You climbed up and he released you. He watched you as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it away. He kicked off his shoes gruffly as he pushed his shoulders back. His thick arms flexed as he unbuckled his belt. He never looked away. Like a wild cat stalking his prey.

He ripped his socks off and was just as impatient with his briefs. You blinked and crawled backwards across the mattress as he neared. His cock boobed below his muscular torso and for a moment you marveled at him. He was perfection; the true incarnation of David.

Your admiration dissipated as quickly as it arose. You were against the wall as he climbed up onto the bed. He grasped your ankle and dragged you closer. The sudden force had you on your back. He caught your other leg and held them apart as he moved between them.

You tried to sit up but couldn’t. You tried to smack him, to push him, to get away but he easily kept you in place. He spread your legs as wide as they could go and rocked his hips as he rubbed his cock against your vee.

“Steve…” You pleaded as you looked into his dark, dilated eyes. “Steve… this isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me,” He gripped his cock and guided it between your folds. “You only know what they wanted me to be.”

He pushed into you and you shrieked. He was thick and strained your walls terribly. He impaled you until he was at your limit. You whined through gritted teeth at the pain and he made no move to retreat. He held you by your hips and smirked as you writhed.

He spread a large hand over your chest and held you down as he began to move. You beat against his arms as he kept his pace slow. His hand slid up to your throat, his other still on your hip. He squeezed and your lips parted as the breath went out of you.

“You will know me. Know who I really am,” He grunted. “Because you will have me inside of you.”

You grabbed his wrist as he sped up. You kicked your legs around him but only added to the agony. You gasped with each thrust, the ripples radiated from your core despite your distress. You were overwhelmed; by his touch, by his intrusion, by his sheer power.

You came and his other hand went to your throat. He bounced you against the mattress as he fucked you harder. Raspy squeaks rose from you as your head throbbed. His pelvis crashed into yours with loud claps and the sound echoed in the empty room.

His face was sinister. The lines along his forehead were deep and his jaw squared. His motion turned more deliberate as he breathed through his gritted teeth. Your vision grew spotty as your lungs burned and you tried to gulp air through his grasp. He snarled and you felt a sudden warmth.

He came loudly and spasmed in a series of sharp thrusts. He released you and sat back with a shiver. He looked down between your legs and ran his tongue along his lips. He exhaled and carefully pulled out of you. He watched his cum seep down to the white sheet and smiled as he backed away.

You pressed your legs together and whimpered. You rolled over so that your back was to him and crossed your arms over your chest. You felt dirty; used. Worse, the pain didn’t relent. Both that left by his touch and his betrayal.

“We’ll try again to be sure,” He pinched your thigh. “You’ve got one minute to getthat ass up.”

#Steve Rogers #hydra!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!fic #dark fic #fic #au #short series #two shot #mcu #marvel #captain america #hydra

573 notes · View notes

delusion-of-negation · 3 years

Text

so I saw a post about something I've been meaning to make a post about, but it was tagged with some vent tags and I didn't wanna reblog with this big rant on something personal, so I'm making my own post - I was actually thinking about making this post yesterday, but I felt like shit so I didn't, and seeing somebody else talk about a similar struggle reminded me to get on my soapbox.

ignoring the masses of flaws with the current body positivity movement (like how it neglects a lot of issues that it supposedly should be helping, or even attacks people with those issues for using the tags if they're conventionally attractive in other ways), it has become so incredibly toxic to people who can't be positive about their bodies in a handful of ways - one being literally mocking people for being insecure or wanting to change (those "sucks to be you hating yourself while I'm out here living my best life" retorts, when somebody is working out or something, for example), another being how quick they are to drop or turn on somebody who loses weight for health reasons, and another being the one I wanted to talk about. it can often be incredibly toxic towards people who can't be body positive personally - whether can't means "I have dysphoria/anxiety/whatever" or whether it means "I can't afford to be because of my health" - sometimes directly and sometimes through how passive aggressive and judgey they can be when talking in general.

like, some of us need to change our bodies, some of us can't help being uncomfortable with them, some of us want to look different or feel different, and change needs to happen to get there - the popular body positive mantra that I've heard in response is that if you don't love yourself now then you won't love yourself after the changes, but that simply isn't universally true. some of us are trans, Karen, we can't love how we look now. some of us don't like the memories stored in our various scars. some of us got so atrophied because of health issues, and we couldn't love the stranger we saw in the mirror, the visual proof that we were dying of medical conditions beyond our control. and no, I don't just mean anorexia. and the reverse is also true, some people actually don't want to see a fat person in the mirror because it's killing them too. when we're shamed for an inability to accept our bodies as they are now, it pushes us away from a movement that's supposed to be about the world not treating us like shit for how we look, and about learning to love the things we can't and/or don't need/want to change.

something flipped somewhere along the way, something went wrong, and now it doesn't feel like a safe space to talk about your thoughts and your experiences, not when you're ostracised for daring to have a condition that made you lose weight or for daring to feel like your skin is wrong or for daring to say that you personally want to lose weight because it's negatively impacted your health.

7 notes · View notes

elizabethemerald · 4 years

Text

Dreams of Drowning: Chap 12

There is a world where Jim Lake Jr enters a bathtub filled with a black potion and emerges...changed. In this world, Jim is dragged into a black potion and emerges...changed.

AO3

Please Reblog!

Consciousness returned slowly. No. That wasn’t right. Not consciousness. Awareness. It was aware. Again. It had previously been aware, it thought, so it was now aware again. It was aware of hate, anger, fear, disgust. It felt like it was being torn apart by all these emotions, it couldn’t survive, even non being was better if awareness was such a cruelty.

“No! Don’t focus on them!”

It was aware of the voice. It couldn’t say that it heard the voice but somehow it was aware. The voice struggled to make itself known through the tides of hate it was drowning in.

“Focus on me!”

“You? Who are you?”

A new emotion was added to the flood. Pain. Its question had pained the voice. Why? Why did the voice care, when everything around it was anger and hate. It felt disgusted with the voice. Disgusted with itself. It let the pounding waves crash over itself.

“Think...of your mother!”

It raised its head before it drowned.

“My mother?”

It had a mother. It remembered her now. It could see her through the ages, when she was a child, when she first put a bandaid on someone’s knee as a teenager and felt a connection to her destiny. It watched as its mother grew, found what she thought was love, then cried when that love left. It watched as she became a doctor, furthering her connection to her destiny. She found another partner, but moved on, then found love again. It saw her now, she was crying again. More sadness, now a bone aching grief. Even its mother was filled with grief and fear. The tides around it felt higher than ever.

“Look closer.”

It looked again. It saw its mother hold something small. She was in a hospital. It could sense her exhaustion and lingering pain. However those were overwhelmed by love and joy. It looked closely at the bundle.

“That was you. When you were first born.”

It was the bundle! A baby. A human. A boy. He was a boy. The doctors might have disagreed when he was born, but he knew the truth, and he knows the truth now. He watched again as he grew up, learned to ride a bike, wept when his father left, learned to cook and found joy there. He saw his high school relationships. A girl. Her name was Aja. A boy. His name was Steve. He had liked them. But he hadn’t loved them.

The memories faded and he could see his mom again. She was crying. Crying over him. Yet, another woman came and wrapped her arms around his mother. Zelda. His mom’s wife. He could see even now the lines of love that flew between them. Never ceasing. Never slowing. Only growing. They loved each more every day. And they both loved-

“Well done Emerys. As all your treacheries are.”

The voice overwhelmed the memories causing them to fade. The voice was laden with malice. Disgust. Hatred.

“I haven’t gone by that name in centuries Morgana.”

Another voice. Gravely. Filled with anger and greed, tinged with regret.

“And I haven’t cared in just as long!” A whip crack of venom swamped his awareness. “Why even come back? You can’t pretend like you care about me, or what I’m doing here.”

“I care about my magic same as you, Morgana. Our kind are vanishingly rare now. It would be a shame to see our power go extinct. I would see us return to power if I could.”

He felt a rumble around him, his senses seemed to flare to life as around him lines of magic burned and scorched around him.

“Why? To watch the mortals beg for their lives?” More magic flared against his awareness. “To have them worship us as gods again?”

He shrank in fear. He didn’t want to make people beg, or to be worshipped.

“No, you don’t have to! You can be more, you can do so much more!”

He hesitated, pulling his awareness away from the conversation and tried to focus on the voice. He still had so many questions.

“I was a boy before. Am I still a boy?”

“You’ve changed so much over your life. In so many ways. Think of you friend!”

Friend? Oh, of course, the other boy. The one he had grown up next to. The one he had spent so many hours with. His name was Tobias. He went by Toby. His best friend called him Tobes. He watched the two boys play and grow. Comforting each other when they mourned the people who left them too soon.

As he watched he remembered a new name. James Lake. Junior. He had named himself after his father. His mom called him Jim. Toby called him Jimbo.

He watched Toby and Jim. As they grew to be teenagers. He watched Toby fall in love with a girl, with dark skin and dark hair. Darci was her name. He watched the three of them grow up together. Through highschool into separate colleges. Then back into the same town.

He saw himself as an adult. Flitting from job to job, never satisfied, always looking for something else. He saw right up until the guys night with Toby where he said he could get him a job at his work.

And he could see the lines of love, just like his mom and her wife he could see them flowing between Toby and Darci. And some of the love seemed to flow somewhere else. To someone else-

"I'll kill him!" A voice suddenly roared.

"Gunmar what are you doing?"

"He killed my son! He killed my only son!" The voice roared again. "I'll kill him for what he did to my son!"

"Gunmar stop! Killing him will set us back on years of our research!"

"I don't care! He killed my Bular!"

Waves of hatred and an inhuman rage poured over his senses. And then pain. Pain tore through every part of his existence. It was a pain he had remembered feeling, secondhand, but this was the first time he had felt it himself. The pain shut out everything.

Pain. Rage. Grief. Pain. Fear. Pain. Hate. Pain. Pain. Rage. Pain. Hate. Pain. Pain. PAIN. PAIN!

Then it stopped. In its absence he couldn’t find anything to hold himself. He could feel himself starting to slip away. Into unbeing. Existence was too much pain for him to handle.

Then he felt a comforting touch. The first pleasant emotion he had experienced. The soft caress across his awareness.

"I'm so sorry they hurt you."

"Is this all existence is? Why should I keep suffering?"

"No, no its not!" There is a desperation to the voice. Fear. But also joy, and compassion. And love. "There's so much more to existence than pain. There's joy and light and roses and dancing and endless amazing things. You can't let them break you."

"But what am I?"

He saw the adult, James Lake Junior.

"Is this what I am?"

"Not anymore. You're...like me."

"But what are you?"

The voice hesitated for a moment.

"Let me show you."

He saw her at her beginning. Was the use of 'her' accurate? No. But neither were any of the other words humans had created. But she had accepted 'her.'

He watched her first moments of existence. She came into being as a brilliant light. There were others like her, before her. Luminous beings that burned, flowed, echoed and shone with power. With magic.

They welcomed her into existence, wrapping her in warmth and love. Showing her how to shape her existence like they had. Then when they felt she was ready, they disappeared. They shed their luminous forms to take on the lackluster forms of humanity.

He watched her, as she grew and changed in her own way. She teased her way into the dreams of those around her. Those who were kind had pleasant dreams and restful nights. Those who were cruel, who took pleasure in hurting others had nothing but nightmares. Slowly she shaped herself into what the people thought of her. La Dama de la Noche. The Lady of the Night.

Eventually she longed for the company of her own kind. Even the human forms of those who had come before her had long returned to the earth. She searched, following a distant call, until she found...something. A stone. It held a warmth and light, like the memory of her kind.

Before she could explore the stone more, a door closed behind her. She waited, bemused, while she was transported inland, away from the ocean. She wasn’t truly bothered, only confused. She was brought to a facility, placed in the basement out of sight, but that didn’t stop her from being able to sense the auras of those around her.

He recognized the facility. 49B. They had captured her and brought her to Arcadia. At first the researchers had not been cruel to her, only curious, trying to understand her nature, trying to use it for their own benefit, that was until she sensed a new presence at the facility, someone who shone with a familiar golden light-

“Calm down, Gunmar!” A wave of magic crashed against his senses. “Do you think I don’t know what its like to lose a child to one of their kind? We have all the time in the world to make them pay, but killing them out right ends their punishment.”

There was a moment of silence, filled with roiling blasts of hate and rage. Then the same voice continued.

“The shock therapy works. That black stone works. Merlin’s potion works. We can create these things ourselves. We can drain their power, and bend it to our will. We can make ourselves immortal just like they are. And we can punish them for the rest of their existence. Why do you think I was so insistent on torturing the Entity? It deserves to punished for killing Mordred.”

He turned his senses back to the voice that had comforted him. He could sense she was scared, guilty.

“What are they talking about?”

A long silence followed. At first he thought she wouldn’t answer. Then another wave of sadness washed over him.

“I’ll show you.”

He watched as the golden figure rushed into 49B. He recognized her. Doctor Morgan Le Fay. Morgana. She had many names. She pushed past guards and researchers, her sole focus on getting to the basement level. Fear and worry radiated off her. And almost hidden underneath her emotions are another’s, this one filled with pain, and fading fast.

The body was pushed into her presence. Pain overwhelming her senses. Not her own, but belonging to the body before her. Young even by human standards. He was hurt. Badly. A car crash the other humans said. His life was fading.

She was ordered to heal him. They had seen her heal small cuts and scrapes before. They ordered her to heal him. To save his life. She tried to argue, but didn’t have the words they understood. She tried to show them that she didn’t know how to do that. That she didn’t know this person. She was ordered again to heal him. And she tried her best.

His mind was again filled with images of bones healing wrong. Torn blood vessels made whole while blood still filled the surrounding tissue. Skin closing over pieces of gravel, dirt still embedded in the wound. She didn’t have the knowledge of healing that could repair the mangled body before her.

He died. Slowly. Painfully. His injuries made worse by her attempt to save his life. She felt every last shred of pain coming off him. She felt Morgana’s grief slowly turn to rage.

It was not long after his death that her torture began in earnest. Dr Le Fay constantly worked to find new and inventive ways to hurt her. To punish her for killing her son. She tried to reach out, tried to explain, but couldn’t. Instead she suffered. The cursed stone that sapped her magic. The electricity. The foul food she was given. The stretching of her limbs by the chains on her wrists.

It was so bad, existence so excruciating that she began to lash out. To trap those who held her in nightmares each night. To drown them again and again in their dreams.

She sensed Toby’s aura. Found his dreams and drowned him there with his loved ones. She saw how much he loved his wife. He was willing to give his life to try and save hers. They had so much love for each other. Toby, Darci and the other he saw. So she spared him further nightmares.

She grew weaker. The constant pain. The draining of her magic. The poisonous food. It was becoming too much.

And she sensed him. When the food was given to her she sensed a new aura on it. That night she punished the new person who worked to create the food that poisoned her. She saw him look at the people he loved and strive to save them. And she felt something. There was something different about this one.

He watched her as time flew forward. The new recipe he had tried, slowly getting closer to something that no longer hurt her to consume. He had asked her name and she had pulled one from his memories that she liked. She traveled into his mom’s dreams so he could say goodbye. She felt his love for her grow, and she felt something grow in her in return.

Then he disappeared. The food returned to its previous toxic state. Terrified she reached out for his mind, dragging him into sleep, so she could see him again. She healed his sickness, desperate not to let him get hurt. And she made a body for herself to see him. To look at him with her own eyes. She startled in fear and couldn’t stay to tell how she was starting to feel, when she saw Gunmar and Morgana, the two who wanted to hurt her most.

She could sense their hatred of her. And she could sense a threat. Not to her, but someone else. His mother. She could see through her eyes the men who gathered at her door, and could feel her fear. She again dragged him to sleep so she could warn him. She joined his mother’s body so she could fight them off. She couldn’t join with him because his own growing magic protected him from such incursions. She did her best to help his mother heal from her injuries, even though she had expended more energy than she had in years.

She felt him awaken to his own power. Her joy overwhelmed her and she felt more powerful than she had since she was first captured. She could feel her connection grow with him, and the feeling inside her growing as well. When Morgana next ordered her torture he sensed her pain. She had been filled with terror at the sight of him. If he was there they could hurt him as well. However his magic protected him. And he was able to use it to protect her as well.

Morgana had sensed the strange magic, but didn’t have a source for it. So she ensured corrupted heartstone never left the side of the tank in the basement. Morgana thought she was getting stronger, and wanted to drain that magic to keep her weak. When she tried to torture her again, again he came to her rescue. This time destroying something physical.

And now he could remember his own memories as well. She created a body again to leave 49B. They ate dinner together. Awakened his mom’s magic. Saved Toby’s Nana. And they danced together. He could remember his love for her burning through him. And her love for him flowing through her.

In that instant he could finally see it all. The lines of love that connected them. Claire and Jim loved each other. He could see it as clearly as if it were one of his mom’s paintings. He could see the love his mom had for her wife, and the love they both felt for him. He could see the love his former teacher had for him. He could see the love that tied him to Darci and Toby and their love for him. He was James Lake Jr. And he was loved.

Jim opened his eyes.

At first all he could see was darkness. Then blue flames roared to life around him. He looked down at himself and could see his skin had been turned to stone almost like Bular’s but different. His was a dark blue. He felt his face and could feel that it was changed, massive tusks jutted from his mouth. His nose felt flatter than he remembered. He had horns sprouting from his head that curled back. Whatever he was now, he was no longer human.

He let his fire expand filling the small space with blue light and was answered by matching purple glow. There. In front of him, pressing herself as closely to the glass of her enclosure as she could. Claire. He reached for her and was surprised to feel the weight of chains on his wrists. The same chains that bound her on the other side of the glass between them.

“Hello.” Jim whispered to Claire.

“I was afraid I’d lost you.” Her voice came to his mind. Sounding small, and scared.

“No. You saved me.”

Jim looked at the blue flames around him and began to shape them creating a form that he recognized and felt familiar to him. He watched the smaller, human Jim form from the flames around him. The sensation was odd. He was aware of the copy’s senses, but they felt muted, and he could also feel his own senses. He pressed himself further into the copy.

He stepped forward then turned to look at himself. He was massive. He filled the chamber and his horns almost touched the ceiling. Under his stone skin he could see the fire raging, just like he could Claire’s magic through her skin.

An answering swirl of magic brushed his skin and he turned to face her. The smaller Claire, the one who had gone to Toby’s party with him stepped up to him. He put a hand out to her. She hesitated, but took it.

“I’m sorry for what they did to you.” She said.

Jim pressed himself against her, kissing her softly. When he drew back he could feel her magic and love thrumming beneath her skin, and his own mirrored her’s like a heart beat.

“I’m sorry you had to spend so long here. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to break you out.” He replied.

They held each other tightly. Then Jim began to hum. Claire looked at him with wide brown eyes. He smiled at her.

“You said you had wanted to dance?” He said. “Well no time like the present.”

She smiled up at him and joined her magic with his. Together the music around them seemed to grow and swell until it filled their minds. And they danced. Slowly at first, just gently rocking back and forth. Than faster and faster. Their copies danced together while their bodies dance in their own prisons.

Whatever Morgana or Gunmar had planned for them. They had each other. They had their love. And no one could ever take that from them.

#jim lake junior #claire nunez #morgana toa #merlin toa #gunmar the black #dreams of drowning #tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #writing emerald #please reblog

16 notes · View notes

asphalt-cocktail · 4 years

Text

Sour- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You’re a Right Bitch

Summary: Signing onto EMI records in the mid 80′s should have been a dream come true for Reader and her punk band, but she finds herself bubbling over with rage every time she interacts with the drummer from the successful rock band that records down the hall.

A/N: Hey lil cuties, I hope you enjoyed the teaser, it got a lot of good recognition which I’m happy about. Maybe i’ll actually do a tag list if anyone is interested (P.S. send ask if you are) and depending on how many people ask I’ll make but ONLY for this fic. If any of you have ideas for a name for reader’s band let me know because I’m writing the next chapter right now and I can’t think of what to call it, I was thinking maybe Sex Kitten, but let me know you’re opinion is always appreciated! This can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor and your feedback, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Pairing: 80s!Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, hate fucking, degrading, alcohol, cigarettes, dom!Roger, swearing, fighting, unprotected sex, no foreplay, throwing up (from intoxication), age difference(maybe like 10 years, reader is probably mid- late 20s and Roger is close to 40), rog being kind of a c*nt, but reader also is, not proof read, grammar.

Word Count: 5.8k whoops

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Asks

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

<<<< Teaser

Signing onto EMI should have seemed like a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not because you and your band had issues with the contract or the long hours spent in the recording studio, no, it was because of a certain drummer of a certain internationally known rock band that had been the absolute bane of your existence. You honestly had no idea how the two of you had gotten off on the wrong foot, maybe it was how loud your hot-headed drummer, Benny got when he was pissed off, or how Haz liked to play his guitar outside of the sound dampened recording studio or how your singer Joe sand loudly in the halls as the four of you left to go home, or maybe it was the fact that you told him you expected him to be much shorter from slouching behind his set. Come to think of it, it probably was the latter of the complaints you’ve gotten from the neighboring band.

The first time you met Roger Taylor was also your first day in the recording studio as an officially signed and contracted band. The group of you were leaving well past midnight, alcohol and cigarettes seemed to be the only way you four could make it through recording this late. As the group of you stumbled through the hallway, your laughter accompanied by Joe’s bass heavy vocals echoed loudly through the halls. Your troupe had just barely made your way to the first door before a head of messy blond hair and furrowed brows poked his head out from the neighboring recording room, “Would you shut your bloody traps, some of us are trying to record.” He snapped before loudly slamming the door behind him.

You and your bandmates froze, unsure of what to do or say. It wasn’t until Haz spoke up and shoved Joe “Yeah shut up, Joe.” He mocked while laughing. You couldn’t help but think of how familiar his face looked.

Just the thought of Roger Taylor was enough to make your mood sour for at least the next three hours. You frowned pushing the heavy doors to the outside open, inhaling the cool winter air. You needed to get out of that damn recording studio, it got so stuffy after having four people in there breathing the same air for hours at a time. You brought a cigarette to your lips and lit it, leaning against the brick building with your hands in your jacket pocket, the door next to you opened revealing your nemesis, Roger Taylor, much to your dismay. “Fuck now my cigarette is ruined.” You said blowing smoke out towards the air.

Roger rolled his eyes, “Piss off.” He retorted before walking past you and to his car to grab a few sets of spare sticks.

“Aw, not out here to join me for a smoke?” you joked.

Roger frowned and his face twisted into one of disgust “I’d rather eat a fist full of glass.” He spat at you bitterly.

You hummed taking a drag from your cigarette and blew the smoke directly in his face as he walked past you “Shame, we really could have bonded.”

Roger waved the smoke away from his face “Don’t you have to be a bitch somewhere else?”

Your face twisted as you stubbed your cigarette out with your boot “Don’t you have to bang on some pots and pans?” you retorted.

Roger rolled his eyes and pushed past you, throwing the door open and stomping down the hall. You waited a beat for him to make his way to Queen’s recording room before you followed suit. Seeing Roger Taylor in person was enough to sour your mood for a few days. You and your bad attitude made your way back to the studio, you loudly shut the door behind you which caught the attention of your bandmates. “What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Haz asked.

Benny smirked knowingly “You ran into roger while out on your smoke break, didn’t you?”

You huffed “I swear to god I’m going to fight his arrogant ass one of these days.” You said while pacing, too worked up to sit down.

Joe walked out of the booth “Well if you’re done brooding, get in and record your bass line for the song. We’ve been wasting time waiting for you to get back in.” He sounded almost as frustrated as you were.

You nodded, picking up your bass and walking into the booth, you put the headphones on and allowed for the music your bandmates had recorded previously to fill your eardrums as you added your bass line onto their unapologetically loud post-punk beats.

The music stopped and you looked up from your bass, “You sound like shit.” Benny said, “Not like good shit, but like actual shit.” He added.

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me?” you sounded shocked, “What?” You really couldn’t wrap your head around what Benny had just told you.

Joe nodded his head and gave you a sympathetic smile along with a thumbs down, “You should make it… make it more slappy I guess?”

You scoffed “Slappy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Benny clicked on the speaking button again “It means, make it sound slappy. Like this,” He said singing a bass like.

You nodded your head “Got it.” You said and waved your hand signaling them to roll the tape. You chewed on your lip and listened for a minute to think of something to play before you let your fingers fly down your frets and strings. When you finished you looked back up to the window “Slappy enough for you?”

“Fucking brilliant, per usual.” Haz complemented into the mic.

Movement in the background caught your attention though, you walked closer to the window and squinted your eyes trying to see into the poorly lit sound booth to the door. Where some tall figures stood “What’s going on back there?” You asked.

Haz shifted nervously in his seat “Don’t worry about it, we have other songs to do.” You could see him swallow thickly behind the glass that separated the two of you.

You were suspicious but he was right, “Fine, roll the bloody tape.” You were frustrated, frustrated with your shit takes, frustrated with Roger, frustrated with the fact you didn’t know what was going on from the outside of this stupid little box. Through the middle of your little recording session you saw your bandmates recongregate in front of the soundboard. They whispered and talked amongst themselves while the producer sat next to them obviously eavesdropping, you abruptly stopped “Are you going to tell me who was at the door? Or should I just keep playing and not having you pay attention.” You said bitterly.

Benny rolled his eyes and paused the recording, “If you really need to know, Freddie Mercury invited us to a gathering at his house later this evening.” He said waving an envelope in front of the window.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You said, letting go of your bass and allowing it to drop and hand loosely from the strap around your shoulder.

“Honest,” He said raising his hands defensively.

You took your headphones off and switched off the mic before screaming “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” From behind the soundproof booth, that did it. You rage had finally bubbled over, you shoved over the table holding your water, extra pics, and notes before breathing deeply and regathering yourself. “Let’s roll the fucking tape so we can get ready, yeah?” You said, as your bandmates looked at you with shocked expressions behind the glass. “You lot catching flies, or are we going to fucking record, let’s go.”

As you recorded your bandmates sat in an uncomfortable silence before one of them finally spoke “I’ve never seen [Y/N] that mad at anything in my life.” Haz started, leaning back in his chair.

Joe nodded his head, still listening intently but joining in on the conversation, “Yeah, but I bet it’s because she hasn’t gotten a proper lay in ages.”

Benny cracked open his beer and took a big gulp before grunting in agreement “You think she fancies Taylor?” he questioned.

“Yeah, but she can’t deal with her feelings, you know that. She’ll destroy this whole damn studio before she admits that.” Haz pointed out.

Benny nodded his head “Right, well I guarantee she is going to be piss drunk tonight, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”

---

After your litter outburst in the studio the boys decided to call it a day after your last take to allow for you all to go home and get ready for Freddie’s party, Ben would be making arounds later to pick everyone up but that wouldn’t be an issue considering he was also your roommate. You rifled through your closet, struggling to figure out what to wear. Your typical style didn’t seem grand enough for a Freddie Mercury party, but you made do with what you had and opted for comfort instead of sex appeal.

“Try not to fight anyone tonight.” Benny said as the two of you got into his small car.

You obviously knew what he was referencing but preferred to ignore it “I won’t, it’ll be fine, I’ve never been in a better mood.” You said and flashed him a fake cheesy smile.

Benny rolled his eyes knowing he would have his hands full tonight.

The drive to Freddie’s lavish home was surprisingly short, which you were grateful for seeing as sitting in the car was making you stir crazy. A pit of butterflies had formed in your stomach, but you had no idea why you had this sudden onset of nerves. You got along wonderfully with all of the other members of the famous rock and roll band and often times would ring up John Deacon for advice on your playing. You didn’t mind his bluntly honest critiques or his back handed complements that would make any other person run and cry. You were not any other person in the sense that you and John were very similar in that sense. Being the bassists in your respective bands meant you had to stand up for yourself otherwise you would get pushed to the background and often forgotten about by fans. It was your mutual understanding for the struggles of being bassists and strong drinkers that caused your professional friendship to form.

The group of you made your way to Freddie’s front door and were let in by nicely dressed doormen, and the scene before you was unlike anything you could have imagined. You knew his parties were the stuff of legends, but a party of this stature could rival even the great Jay Gatsby. You quickly lit a cigarette and took a glass of expensive white wine from one of the waitstaffs’ trays, promptly downing the small glass and handing it back to them, “Shall we?” You asked nodding your head into the large crowd of people before you.

Before you knew it, your bandmates had been swallowed by the crowd, causing you to lose sight of them and anyone else you may have recognized as a matter of fact. You meandered through the crowd towards the bar where you saw a familiar head of iconic curly hair, “Brian!” You said, greeting him with a friendly embrace which he returned. “It’s so nice to see you outside of the recording studio.” You jokingly said.

He laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah same to you.” He took a sip from his drink, “I heard you and Roger got into another little spat.” He could see the remanence of frustration behind your cheerful expression.

Your smile quickly dropped and was replaced by rolling eyes and deep sigh, “Did he tell you that?” You asked, you could feel your frustration boiling over.

“You know he’s sensitive about his drumming.” Brian chimed in with a smirk, oh did he love stirring the pot between the two of you.

“Well I’m sensitive about being called a bitch.” You said quickly swallowing the mixed drink your ordered, hoping the alcohol would ease your frustration.

Brian’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” That was a lie and both of you knew it.

You nodded, already nursing your next drink, these bartenders really did work at inhuman speeds “Right,” You said not believing his lie, “Where’s Fred and John?” You quipped.

“What, not curious about where the fourth member is?” Brian pressed, your silence caused him to put his hands up defensively “Only taking the piss.” He said, still smiling “Freddie is out back, and John is God knows where.”

You nodded your head before ordering another drink, back up if you will, and bidding Brian farewell before you pushed your way through the crowd to greet the host. Freddie was having a good time, per usual. You waved hello to him from the crowd of people, he yelled something you couldn’t hear over the music and reached for your hand pulling you into a warm friendly hug which you awkwardly returned given your hands were full. You handed Freddie your empty drink glass “What should I do with this?” You asked, he responded by taking the glass from your hand and throwing it out into the crowd of people, causing you to laugh while nursing your next drink.

You and Freddie laughed in your mutual drunken states “You know, darling, when Roger came back into the studio and mentioned how you said something about him banging on pots and pans I nearly died from laughter.” He said remembering the flushed and angry expression on his drummer’s face. “You know what I think?” He asked leaning into talk to you, you sipped your drink, looking up at Freddie wide eyed and pressing him to continue speaking “I think the two of you should fuck.”

You choked on your drink, coughing it all over the front of your shirt and wiping the dribble from your chin “What!” You asked in a shrill voice.

Freddie let out a bellowing laugh, “It would be brilliant, the two of you need a good fuck anyways.” He said trailing off at the end and taking a large sip from his highball glass.

“I can’t believe you would even suggest I sleep with that arrogant asshole.” You were honestly kind of offended that Freddie would group you with one of Roger’s lowly groupies.

“Hear me out, love.” He said, his stance wavering from the alcohol “Roger has had such a stick up his ass after quitting smoking and the divorce. I don’t think he’s gotten any decent pussy since we toured in the 80s and you? I don’t ever see you going home with any sort of eye candy.”

You rolled your eyes before you finished off your drink and set your glass on a table, “I don’t get any I’m the only female in a mostly male punk band, Fred.” You pointed out, using your now empty hands to light a cigarette, “I’m not even a lead, I just play bass.” You said blowing smoke out into the night sky.

“Oh rubbish, you’re a damn good bassist or John wouldn’t even give you the time of say.” What Freddie said was true. While John was harsh in his critiques, you knew it was only because he saw the raw talent you had.

You nodded your head only half listening to Freddie, your mind still caught up on trying to imagine how sex with Roger Taylor would be. A bitter frown crossed your lips, you would never fuck Roger Taylor, “I need a refill.” You huffed before promising Fred you would come back immediately after your drink. You pushed your way through the crowd, your arm raised as to not burn anyone with your lit cigarette. You tried desperately to find your bandmates, but alas due to the large crowd it was no use.

Either way, you needed another drink.

You quickly made you way to the bar back inside the house and ordered a shot of whiskey and chased it with a full beer before you ordered another mixed drink. The copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed were finally catching up to you, your face felt hot and flushed and your skin tingled delightfully. You hummed, sipping your drink and making your way to the bathroom to finally break the seal. After checking several of the first-floor bathrooms, only to find their handles locked you frowned in frustration and made your way up the stairs to the second level of Freddie’s mansion before you finally found an unlocked bathroom. You promptly went in and relieved yourself as you exited you ran into a surprisingly firm body, sloshing your drink and theirs on each other’s respective shirts “Who invited you here?” The voice sent a chill of frustration up your spine and to your alcohol flushed face.

You looked up, locking eyes with an equally intoxicated Roger Taylor, you huffed moving to push past him “Freddie did, the other members of your group actually seem to enjoy my company.” You said, once again moving to squeeze past him. Your efforts were to no avail, as he had firmly planted both hands on either side of the door, trapping you in the bathroom. “Get out of my way.” You said impatiently, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re always a right cunt you know that?” he said in a matter of fact tone.

You grit your teeth and clenched your drink harder “You’re the one that’s the cunt, maybe it’s all that groupie pussy that’s ruined your respect for women.”

Roger scoffed, here he was, nearly forty years old and throwing insults at some newbie punk rocker. “I don’t know if I’d call you a woman, maybe a failed guitarist sure, but a woman or lady not so much.” He said crossing his arms over his chest giving you a smug look.

“I think your sticks are too far up your ass, Taylor,” You spoke as you pushed past him. Before you had time to react you felt hands on your shoulders pushing you hard against with wall causing you drop the glass in your hands, allowing it to shatter on the ground and the breath to escape from your lungs, you groaned but didn’t know if it was from the pain of your back colliding with the wall behind you or from the adrenaline you felt rising in your veins and stomach.

Roger’s strong hands held you firmly against the wall and his calloused fingertips brushed against the skin on your collar causing a light shutter to run through your body “I have half a mind to shut you up right here.” He threatened, his usually bright blue eyes now clouding over with something much darker.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the pressure of having his knee right between your legs, but you felt a sudden boldness “Do it,” You pressed, articulating your words and hoping to get a rise out of him.

With that, he pressed his lips against you with force, causing your teeth to clank together and your head to fall back, knocking against the wall. His roughness causing a sultry moan to slip from your lips, “You’re pathetic.” He hissed pulling your hair and tilting your head to expose your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses along your jawline to your neck where he harshly bit down causing you to shove him back.

Roger gripped tightly to your hips causing the two of you to stumble backwards from the force of your push “Take me to a bedroom and fuck me already.” You said impatiently. Freddie wouldn’t mind if the two of you had a quick romp in the sheets in one of his many bedrooms, after all he was the one that instigated the whole thing.

The two of you stumbled, a mess of tangled and drunken limbs as you fell back into the first open bedroom you could find. Roger flipped on the light switch, not breaking the kiss and revealing a large well decorated room with an equally large bed in the middle. He shut the door behind him with one arm and shoved you back onto the bed with the other. Your eyes caught your reflection in the side mirror, your hair was a mess accompanied by smeared make up and eyes clouded with lust.

You quickly slipped your boots off and lifted your hips to help Roger take your pants off. Quickly, he flipped you over and pushed you forward. You adjusted yourself, ass in the air and legs spread showing off your already wet pussy. Roger groaned looking at it and ran a finger through your slick folds “You truly are pathetic, you know that, [Y/N]? I’ve barely touched you and here you go making a mess all over Freddie’s sheets.” He inserted two fingers into you agonizingly slow and licked his lips feeling the tightness of you engulf him, “A shit bassist, shit song writer, shit musician, shit person…” He emphasized each of his words with the slow lazy thrusting of his fingers. You let out a choked sob, desperate for him to give you more, “What was that?” He asked smugly, “If you want to get fucked, you’re going to have to be louder for me.” He said before pulling his fingers out leaving you feeling empty.

You pushed back against hand, “No-” you said sharply. You spread your legs further and arched your back “Please,” you hated how he had complete control over the situation, but at the same time loved it.

“Please what?” He asked swiping the head of his cock between your damp folds, intently watching as your juices coated him.

“Fuck me.” You said softly, clenching the bedsheets.

He raised his hand and placed a sharp smack on your ass causing you to jolt “Ah, fuck. Just stick it in already Roger.” You hissed.

Without warning the blond lined up to your entrance and pushed in, not giving you time to adjust. He let out a choking groan, not expecting you to be as tight as you were, “Fucking Christ.” He hissed snapping his hips against yours with purpose.

You gripped the bedsheets and cried out, feeling him stretch your walls unapologetically. There was no foreplay and no care in how either of you handled each other, just wanton need mixed with the mutual resentment you had for each other.

Roger propped one of his legs up to angle deeper into you and leaned over, pushing the side of your face into the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, years upon years of frustration he couldn’t hold back. He fucked his failed marriage, arguments with the band, cigarette cravings, and the comments you made about how shitty you thought his drumming was into you as he drove you into the mattress. Your legs shook and eyes rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure you received from the new angle and you let out a string of garbled words neither of you could understand. “This whole party can probably hear how much of a slut you are.” He said slipping his thumb into your mouth to which you greedily sucked on, “I didn’t expect you to have such a tight pussy” He huffed and groaned feeling your walls flutter against him, “’Cos you seemed like such an easy lay.” He let out a breathless laugh, knowing how right he was.

Your arms had given out and were sprawled out in front of you and drool had started to dribble down your chin from Roger’s thumb pressing down on your tongue forcing your mouth open to hear your sinful cries, you knew your legs weren’t going to hold you up much longer and Roger knew that as well.

He quickly pulled out and flipped you over onto your back in a less than graceful manor before he hitched your legs over his hips and pushed himself back in, continuing his relentless pace. You reached your hand into his hair and tugged roughly on his while your other hand raked its nails down his back causing him to arch into your touch and his movement to faulter.

You were surprised to feel a hand slip between your legs and begin rubbing rough circles around your clit, guess chivalry wasn’t dead after all, you squirmed against his touch the stimulation almost becoming too much for you to handle. Your walls twitched, clamping down around Roger, earning a shuttering moan from him.

You were both close.

“R-Rog…” You let out a stuttering moan feeling your climax building in your gut.

“Come on, you can’t be that daft, use your words.” He huffed, gripping your chin to make you face him, “I want this whole party to know who’s fucked you by the time I’m done.” He said through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes and your mouth hung ajar, breathing heavily as you made eye contact with the mess of a man before you. Roger’s shirt had ridden up, and his pants were half pulled down and accompanied by sweaty and matted hair, you hated how the look in his eyes caused your walls to clamp down hard on his cock, squeezing him as you reached your climax, yelling his name with a hoarse and cracked voice for the whole party downstairs to hear, and the face he made as clenched your thighs and hip and reached his own, releasing hot spurts of come into you. He hunched over you, letting out shaky breaths as he worked you through your orgasm. He hated you but wasn’t a monster.

Roger stopped and swallowed thickly while trying to catch his breath, you glanced over at the mirror seeing red scratched zig zagging on his back and sat in silence, wondering which one of you would cave first and break it. The drummer pulled out of you and tried to hide the whimper that escaped him at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock but failed, before he tucked himself back into his pants, “Still think you’re a bitch.” He said tucking his shirt back into his pants and tightening his belt.

“You’re a shit lay.” You tried to insult as you got up, steps wavering and some of the evidence of your prior actions leaking down the inside of your thigh.

Roger bit his lip at the sight and watched you pull your pants up, “Right and the whole crowd downstairs couldn’t hear your pathetic voice five minutes ago.” He said before turning to leave, giving you a short wave “Ta,” he said and left, walking downstairs with no shame.

Your hips ached as you walked to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you hated how that was your first penetrative orgasm, and you hated the ache between your legs, and you hated the smug look on Roger’s face after he left because the both of you knew he was probably the best lay you’ve had. But you couldn’t find it in you to be angry, not while in your post orgasm haze. You walked down the steps, taking it easy, and made your way to the bar and ordered a mixed drink to quench your thirst, desperately hoping that the stares you received weren’t because these strangers knew you just had been fucked so hard you could still feel the muscles in your legs twitching or that you could still feel the remains of your and Roger’s essence leaking out of you even after you cleaned yourself off.

You ordered a shot and a beer, quickly down the shot and moved to drink the beer before it was taken from your hands. You turned to see Freddie nursing what used to be your beer with a knowing smirk on his face, “[Y/N],” He said in a sing song voice.

“I didn’t fuck Roger” You said defensively.

Freddie grinned and handed you back your beer which you promptly drank out of “I didn’t say that, but you just confirmed.” He nudged your side, “Was it good? You know I caught Roger walking down the steps and he flashed me this grin.” He paused to order a drink, “And you know what I said to myself? I said, oh no Roger only makes that face after he fucked a good cunt. Then what do you know” He shrugged in an animated fashion “I see none other than you, darling, walking down the stairs, stiff as a board.” Freddie was about to continue rambling before you cut him off.

“I hate him.” You said placing a cigarette between your lips and lighting it, inhaling deeply.

Freddie practically ignored your comment, “But it was good wasn’t it?” Your silence was all he needed to answer “See!” He pointed out.

As the night continued so did your consumption of alcohol, you felt your drink being taken out of your hands and a blurry figure and closed on eye to focus your vision. It was a very pissed off Benny, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we got here.” He said, drinking your drink.

You whined and leaned onto Benny’s chest “Hey, I was drinking that.” Your words slurred together.

“You look like a mess.” He said wrapping an arm around you to help steady your poor balance, your make up was smeared, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled. But thankfully your drunken state covered for your earlier romp in the sheets. “We have to go home,” He said pulling you along, “Come on.”

Your steps wavered as you began walking out “Wait,” You said abruptly stopping, “I have to say bye to Fred.”

Benny rolled his eyes “You’ve been with Fred all night, I’m sure he’ll understand that we need to leave.” You let out a whiney protest, “It’s 4am, [Y/N]” he said as if pointing out the early hour in the morning was going to make you want to leave more.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and firmly stood your ground, “Fine, for god’s sake Joe go find Freddie.” Benny said running a frustrated hand through his hair.

To you what seemed like hours but was truly minutes passed and Freddie was before you, and equally as drunk mess as you were, hanging off Jim’s shoulder. The two of you held each other in a drunken embrace and Freddie kissed your cheek goodbye before Benny pulled you off.

As Benny and Joe practically pushed you into the car you caught sight of a familiar blonde who was also about to leave, you rolled your window down “Hey!” You shouted, catching Taylor’s attention “You’re a bitch!” You shouted, to which he flipped you the finger and yelled ‘fuck off’ as you and your bandmates drove away.

After dropping off your two other bandmates at home Benny draped your arm across his back and held you at the waist, as you struggled to stand. “’M gonna puke.” You said feeling your stomach doing flips and a sudden cold chill crawl up your spine and settle where your ears and jaw connected. You moved to kneel on the soft grass on the side of your parking area and your hair fell around your face as you retched, trying to use your arms to hold yourself up, they were so tired and your elbows jerked, threatening to give out.

Benny pulled your hair back, seeing a large and deep mark of varying shades of red and purple on your neck, “What the fuck is this?” He asked poking the side of your neck when you finished puking and started to regain your breath. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and mumbled some incoherent words, “What?” He asked again.

“I fucked Roger!” You said loudly, sitting back on the concrete.

“Ssshhh,” He said putting a hand over your mouth “You’re going to wake the whole bloody neighborhood.”

You swayed in your seated position and fell into Benny’s chest, “I fucked Roger,” You said in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, I got that much.” Benny said, hooking his arms under your shoulders and pulling you up with him, the two of you made the long arduous walk to up to your apartment building. Benny laid you in your bed and unlaced your boots, you let out a huff still frustrated with yourself, “Was it good at least?” your roommate asked while handing you a glass of water.

You sat up in your bed and gulped it down “Yes,” you said in a defeated voice “But it doesn’t change anything, I still can’t stand the bloody prick.”

Benny hummed “Right,” He said nodding his head and taking the glass from your hands, “We can talk more about this in a few hours, the birds are chirping.”

---

When you awoke a few hours later you groaned, clutching your head feeling the insistent pounding of a hangover rattling through you and an ache between your legs, “Shit,” You said out loud remembering your actions from the night before. You got out of bed seeing you were still in last night clothes and slipped into an oversized tee shirt and put on some sunglasses to help shield your eyes from the bright light of day before you shuffled out of your bedroom and into the bathroom to find something to curb your headache.

You grabbed the pill bottle of over the counter pain killer and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water and were greeted by your bandmates all in your living room. You opened your mouth to issue an apology for being a drunken mess last night but before you could get words out Joe interrupted you “Don’t worry, Haz puked all over the nice tile near Freddie’s pool right before we left so you weren’t the worst off.” Haz hid his face bashfully and nodded at you feeling your pain.

You grabbed a glass of water and made yourself comfortable in your usual spot in the living room, not caring that you weren’t wearing pants. You were comfortable enough with your bandmates and paid half the rent here so you really should be able to do whatever you damn well pleased in the place you called home. Much to your dismay you were already thrown a heap of questions “So I heard you fucked Roger last night.” Joe said bluntly.

You paused bringing your glass of water to your mouth to drink and were thankful your sunglasses hid your expression, “Yeah we fucked. What of it?” You asked defensively.

Joe made a face and put his hands up, “I was only making conversation.” He muttered bringing up his cup of tea before drinking it.

You were not going to hear the end of it.

Chapter 2: We Can Hate Each Other in the Morning >>>

178 notes · View notes

izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

London By Night, Chapter One

The sequel to You Send Me! Freddie and our FtM trans reader finally home in London, with a bit of time to spend before the 1979 European tour begins!

And yes, another Sam Cooke song as the title. I’ve got a theme going now lol.

NSFW right away in this one, just a moment of it. There’ll be more later, I promise lol.

A note that I did touch on a sore point in my own life, re: alcohol for comfort around family. It’s just a brief short paragraph, but I wanted to note it so it doesn’t come as a triggering surprise for anyone (even writing it made me want a drink, tbh, but I’m trying really hard not to lean on drinking rn for comfort of any kind.)

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“So?”

Despite the long, turbulent flight, Freddie was smiling at you.

“I like it.”

He laughed, and motioned for you to follow him down the airport halls. “Just from here, you’re certain?”

You nodded. “It’s...busy. Really busy. Busy enough no one seems to give a shit who we are or what we’re doing. I never got that back at home.”

“No, certainly not,” Freddie tutted, and you knew he was thinking on how the trip back to your home town had been less than ideal. He’d been recognized more than once, and not always treated kindly as a result. It had made an already not fun trip even harder to deal with, and now it made you all the happier to finally be in London.

“I am sorry about all that mess,” you sighed as you tried to keep up with Freddie, slipping around crowds of people, ignoring the heads that turned at hearing Freddie’s voice. “They could have at least made Christmas and Boxing Day decent...”

“Don’t even think on Christmas again; we don’t need to remember that,” Freddie said, reaching back to tug you through a particularly rough thicket of people. “As far as I’m concerned, our memories were fortunately wiped of that day. We know they existed, and that we lived through them, and that’s all we need to know.”

You nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”

It had been a shit show, frankly. You grandparents had certainly not been sick to death, only struggling through some difficult colds, and couldn’t figure out why your mother had demanded you home. As fantastic as it had been to know they were fine, it meant the holiday had gone as “usual” for your family, which meant tears, tantrums, complaining, at least one person stomping off mid-way through present-opening, and you working to drink yourself into a stupor to get through it.

If it hadn’t been for Freddie, you might have drank yourself blind, but thanks to his bright idea of getting away from it all under the guise of ‘showing him about town’, there was some escape.

“I do want to remember the park,” you said as you followed him to a waiting car. “That was a good few hours, and at least the day we spent in New Orleans was lovely.”

That had been your last day in the States, and where you had flown out from to London. It hadn’t been nearly long enough, but for a moment of refreshment and happiness, it had been good.

He smiled. “Those parts we should remember. Everything else, forget it. And if my family asks-”

“We had a perfectly fine holiday and my family are definitely not the weirdest near-psychopaths you’ve ever met,” you chirped as you tried to arrange yourself and your luggage in the backseat of the car.

He rolled his eyes as he joined you. “I don’t know about psychopaths...manipulative and self-centered, for sure.”

“Either way, your parents don’t need to know about that,” you said, and started to lean in for a kiss, then stopped.

The driver watched you both via the rear view mirror, a scowl on his face.

“Just a random driver hired,” Freddie whispered, shooting you a glance that read ‘be careful.’ “Not one of our usual employ.”

You nodded, and sat back in your seat, watching the scenery of the city flash by as the driver sped down the streets.

“Still like it?”

“I do,” you replied. “I’ve always wanted to live in a bigger city. I can’t wait to go out and see it, any of it. Even just your garden!”

“No garden yet, unfortunately,” he sighed. “But soon. I’ve got my eyes on a few nicer places, and now that I have the money-”

He shrugged. “Why put off living somewhere decent, hm? Not that there’s anything wrong with a flat, I mean, only-”

“Not everyone wants to live in a flat forever,” you interrupted. “I know I wouldn’t. And how long have you all been struggling to find and afford nicer housing? You deserve it, all of you, to be in something better. You’ve worked hard for it.”

“You’ll still find the current flat impressive?”

“As long as it’s yours, yes, I will,” you giggled. “Am I to assume mine is just as good?”

“Of course,” he said. “With all the room a one bedroom can give you.”

“In other words...”

“Don’t have too much stuff, and don’t ever actually look at how ‘big’ it is,” Freddie sighed. “If you can manage that, you can pretend you don’t feel like an insect trapped in a jar.”

The car pulled up in front of a frankly beautiful building, and you followed Freddie out of it and to one of the doors into it.

“Now, I should let you know,” Freddie started. “We’re actually still waiting on the current tenants to finish moving out of your place, apparently. I don’t know all what happened, John has more details since wrangling this all went through our office, but in the meantime I thought you could...”

He stopped, and for a minute you saw one of his other sides, the shy Freddie that hung back at times during parties, happy to stick to you and the rest of the guys and be open and fun with you, but less interested in immediately pulling any spotlight towards him.

“If you want to, I should say. I mean, I don’t know where else you’d go, and I really should have told you this sooner, and I apologize for not doing that and-”

“Love?” you interrupted him. “If what you’re trying to say is that I’m staying with you, then I’m thrilled.”

He grinned. “Good. It’s a bit tight, of course, since it’s usually just me. But it’s a roof over your head, at least.”

It was small, but it was beautiful. Decorated gorgeously, with various bits and pieces you were sure Freddie had picked up in the market. Despite how little time there would be to spend there before the next tour would start, it felt like a home.

“Mary is just nearby us as well,” he said. “We’ll have to pay her a visit in the time we’ve got.”

“It goes fast, doesn’t it?”

He nodded grimly, taking your luggage from you, only to toss it by his in the bedroom. “We’ve got till...ah, I should check and make sure I’m remembering right. Seventeenth of January, I think?”

“Think that’s it,” you mumbled, walking back to the bedroom to search your bags for your copy of the upcoming itinerary.

“You’re the first one I’ve brought in here that hasn’t immediately started snooping around like you own the place,” Freddie was behind you suddenly, and you turned from your bag to look up his long legs. “And the first one I didn’t have to prompt to take off your shoes in the house. I appreciate that.”

“You know my family some now,” you said. “They don’t let shoes on in the house either. I’m in no rush to pick up wearing them in as a habit either. And this is your room, I’m just crashing here. It would be wrong of me to start...god, just going through your things? What is wrong with people?”

He shrugged. “I’ve asked the ones that did rifle about my wardrobe and closet, but none have ever had a good answer for that.”

“Well,” you said, and stood up, draping your arms around his shoulders. “I won’t be doing anything of the sort. If I should need to find something, I will be asking you, thank you very much.”

“Your mother raised such a polite boy,” Freddie sighed. “Shame she isn’t more proud of that.”

You winced, as the memory of your mother’s cold reception of you and Freddie during your time home came rushing back. “Let’s not think of her anymore. Not now. Not until the next American tour, maybe.”

“As you wish, my prince,” he said, and grinned at your blush. “I think I’m going to keep calling you that. Look at you!”

The nickname had come about after a long night in your hometown, trying to be quiet after you’d sneaked into the guest room your mother had insisted Freddie stay in. You had talked long about how the chance to move finally, and with him to London no less, made you feel like a prince in a fairy tale. Finally found by the rest of the kingdom, ready to take your proper place on the throne. Even if, in this case, the throne was merely being able to be with Freddie and continuing to work for Queen.

“You can’t call me that in front of the guys,” you giggled. “They’ll have a field day with it.”

“No, I won’t use it in front of them,” Freddie agreed. “But that’s because it’s just for us.”

“I like that.”

“As do I,” Freddie said softly. “Now, what if we show you around the place a bit?”

You frowned slightly. “I mean...I don’t want to be rude, Freddie. But from stepping in, you can see-”

“You’ve not had a tour of the bed yet,” Freddie interrupted with a cheeky smile. “Or should I make you wait for that? Shall I create more stops on the tour first? Maybe we ought to head out to a pub first, wander around and let you explore. Then, if we have time, we could tour the bed.”

You pressed yourself against him, and kissed him hard. To make up for the interrupted kiss in the car, for the many kisses you had to hold back while in your home town.

He kissed you back just as hard, but he let you down gentle onto the bed, and watched you yawn. “You should sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that now, but have you ever traveled out of the States?”

You shook your head.

“Your body needs to catch up to the time change,” Freddie said. “So tell you what. We’ll save the in-depth tour for sometime tomorrow. For now, let me give you the quick tour of the bed.”

You watched as he stripped off his shirt, unbuttoned his trousers and tossed them in a corner of the room once they were off. His eyes followed your hands as you undressed yourself, and you wanted to yell at yourself for being as tired as you had tried to pretend you weren’t.

“Here,” he murmured, and motioned for you to lay back on the bed. “Rest.”

Your hands roamed his shoulders, taut and strong, as he moved over you, then against you, his lips at your neck.

And then a yawn.

“Is my tour guide going to fall asleep on me, literally?” you giggled.

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder. “Possibly.”

You moved gently, until you were both laying side by side, hips close, legs intertwined. Your head rested against his shoulder, and you begged your eyes to stay open.

But it was as if the chance to finally rest, to not be traveling, running, doing, constantly had flipped a switch. There was no fighting it, especially as you listened to the slowing of Freddie’s breath, his arms around you dead weight as he slept.

You stared down the clock for a bit, just visible on the bedside table when you looked past Freddie, until your eyes shut again.

#text post #LeeH writes #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury x male reader

4 notes · View notes

ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

DARING DO and the Gryphon’s Quest! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 4 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

THE GRYPHON’S QUEST!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Aranel the Cyborg, now Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

Writing begun 03/29/16

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony. Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Chapter 4. A V.I.L.E. Family Dinner

Daring Do, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight, saw the famous statue of CELESTIA IN VICTORY. That brought her up short because she knew that it had been stolen from Victory Park in mid Canterlot about three years ago. Nopony was sure of exactly when it was taken. Park workers going to clean it of pigeon droppings discovered that it had been replaced by a Styrofoam copy!

Staring about, she saw a plunge. It had four so-called “Wu Dogs”, one at each corner. Daring Do knew that those “dogs” were actually lions carved from descriptions in written texts that were given to stone carvers who had never seen a lion. She knew that those “dogs” and the swimming pool that they were a part of was once inside the palace of the Golden Emperor of the Chineighese Empire. Discovering that it was gone had created a huge scandal.

The cause of that scandal was lounging at the far end of the pool. A khaki colored unicorn mare in a fire engine red bikini hit the water in a near perfect dive. She made almost no splash and shot underwater like a living torpedo to the near end of the plunge.

Surfacing at the pool’s rim like a leaping porpoise, she put both forehooves on the pool edge and pushed, turning as she did so. The infamous and NEVER caught master thief Carmen Pondiego sat only a fraction of a second before rolling to her hooves and sprinting joyfully to them.

She called out, “Adora! Blendin said that he was bringing you and two other guests to dinner! I was not sure whether to believe him or not! We are having enchiladas! I made up enough for all of us.”

Daring Do could not dodge her mother’s hug with the Gryphons watching. Truthfully, she really did not want to. As she felt Carmen’s arms about her, she felt paradoxically safe and about to panic at the same moment.

She compromised by asking archly, “Enough for ALL of us? Where did you manage to steal that much?”

Stepping back but keeping her hooves on Daring Do’s shoulders, Carmen said with mock severity, “Adora, you wound me! This was a dinner for YOU. I did not steal the ingredients.”

Blendin pulled a wry face as he revealed, “Uncle Marehem stole them. We have not seen the headlines yet, so we don’t know where he got them.

“Want to join the betting pool, Sis? The pot is up to 800 golden bits!”

While Daring Do was thinking about it, Grata and Rahak, crests up and fluttering in Gryphon laughter asked, “Is that a family betting pool or can we join it?”

Blendin instantly replied, “It is open to anypony on the island. That includes you two.”

“Right. Who do we register our guess and place our bets with?”

Blendin snickered, “Me.”

“Five golden bits each, on the northwestern region of Mexipone.” They cheerfully gave Blendin their bits.

Daring Do, squinted her eyes in deep thought and hoofed over ten gold bits herself. “Ten. I am going for the Mexi-Queso Warehouse. Uncle M always likes getting the very best!”

Letting go of Daring Do, Carmen put a hoof over her eyes. “I am shamed by my own daughter. I should have thought of that!”

Blendin suggested, “Face saving by face stuffing? It is dinner time on the Island!”

Carmen nodded and led them through corridors hung with priceless art and past pedestals with small statuary and rare porcelains. They emerged into a dining room with a table of simple, elegant design.

It was Rahak who drew a breath of admiration. “A Chipenwood table. I never thought to see a real one in my lifetime.”

Grata’s eye was drawn to a smallish porcelain vase of white, blue and green with characters of the ancient X'ibian language decorating its surface. Awed, she turned to Carmen and asked, “The Heart of Discord? It is real after all?”

Carmen smiled broadly. “Yes, the Heart of Discord. No, it is not real. Yes, that is the only one in the whole world. My daughter’s last expedition to X'ibia created it by copying the true Heart of Wisdom to mislead some tomb robbers. Eris, the female form of Discord, came when it was used but she was not bound by it. I am very proud of this deception by my sweet Adora.”

Carmen disappeared into an adjoining room. There was an encouraging clatter of dishes from the room. Carmen emerged, having managed the trick of changing into her near trademark form fitting red dress and tinted glasses. She was carrying a big silver platter piled high with enchiladas. She set it onto hot pads on the table and returned with a second tray, only a little smaller than the first. This one got placed between Rahak and Grata.

The other guests entered the dining room. As they sat, Daring Do realized that her biological father, the alicorn Baron Von Nighthoof and Carmen were presently getting along well. He was at Carmen’s right hoof, but not before he had seated her like royalty. The glint of gold at her neck showed that she was wearing their copy of the Golden Necklace of Pharow Underrock that the Baron had given her.

Daring Do was seated at Carmen’s left hoof. Grata and Rahak were down table from Daring Do. Blendin and Kiros, the odd looking wolf hybrid with his black hair, horns and dragon like wings and tail, sat opposite them. At the foot of the table, in his usual place, was Daring Do’s uncle Marehem, a blue Misfortune Changeling with orange hair.

As soon as all were seated, Carmen tapped the side of her glass (a rare Stuborn glass, Daring Do noticed) to get attention. “Marehem, my dear, the betting pool is all here. Where did you obtain the ingredients for our dinner?”

He ran a blue hoof through his pumpkin colored hair. “Um, could I have the guesses?”

Blendin nodded and pulled out his list. “To make things easiest, they are all in Mexipone.

“Baron Von Nighthoof thought that you went to Mexipone City because the place is such hodgepodge that nopony would miss them.

“Carmen guessed Ox-Huaca valley somewhere.

“Kiros thought perhaps, Casa Nquesa.

“Our two Gryphon guests suggested northwestern Mexipone.

“Adora was specific. She said the Mexi-Queso warehouse because you wanted the best.”

Marehem smiled wickedly. “Adora, you should put aside all of your problems with Carmen. You would make a fantastic agent! You hit it on the head. Technically, I did not take it from their warehouse. I got it from their aging cave about an hour before it was due to go to the warehouse to be packaged and labeled.”

Grata’s eyes were darting from object to object in the room. She ventured, “I have seen some of these in the Imperial Museum. The reproductions are excellent.”

With considerable pride, Carmen replied, “Indeed they are. That is why the originals have not been missed! These are the originals.”

Grata paused in deep thought. “Then it is not a coincidence of names. You are Carmen Pondiego, reputed to be a Master Thief unexcelled in history. Since Daring Do is your daughter, so we have been hearing, then the origin of her astounding skill at locating and recovering ancient artifacts is well explained.”

Carmen nodded sadly. “That is true. I wish that she could see it that way.”

Acidly, Daring Do retorted, “I do. Don’t worry about that!”

Marehem, seeing the enchiladas getting cold, as a family battle heated up, called cheerfully, “Food! Now that I have your attention, there is a huge pile of enchiladas here, just waiting to be eaten! The bet has been settled. ANYTHING else can wait!”

Grabbing serving tongs he snagged FOUR of the big enchiladas and a healthy serving of salad. Blendin got the message and joined in. For a moment, the serving tray resembled the main course at shark feeding frenzy as they all dived in!

When all of the plates were loaded, Carmen looked at the tray with satisfaction. “Looks like there will be plenty for seconds or more. I thought that I made enough.”

Rahak was whispering to Grata. She retorted, “If the Imperial Museum hasn’t noticed, why should WE tell them? Besides, the originals are perfectly safe here. Use your eyes. This whole place is a museum in its own right. I will bet that every item here is perfectly documented.”

Blendin nodded emphatically. Swallowing a bite of enchilada in haste, he agreed. “Keeping the catalog of mom’s acquisitions keeps me hopping!”

Grata raised her cup and toasted, “To Carmen Pondiego! A mare of discernment and taste!”

Daring Do only thought for a second before joining in. After all, it was perfectly true! “To Carmen Pondiego!”

At the last, there was only one lonely enchilada left on the silver platter, now easily seen to be a priceless Pony Revere.

Blendin spoke up, “Part of the reason that I brought the Gryphons here was to see if you could put them near the site where the Gryphons originated, Uncle M.”

Marehem shook his head, “No, I am afraid not, Blendin. The time span is no problem. There is no way to use the equipment safely anywhere near to the mangled spells and random magic fallout from the Circle and Crescent Lake blasts at the end of the second Nightmare War. That whole area is deadly for a fifty year span.”

Blendin inquired, “Deadly, M? How so?”

Dryly M pointed out, “If you can not get back, the effect is the same. If we try to use our temporal displacement engine anywhere near that magical fallout region, all connection to the present will be severed.

“For you, the effect is the obliteration of your timeline. You cease to exist the instant that you land anywhere in that danger zone.”

Rahak, crest up, turned to Blendin and said, “We thank you for at least checking on a possibility for us to see what happened. It appears that we will have to track that weather and see if we can find the proper place where our kind originated.”

Daring Do observed, “Your legends actually do offer a lot of help. Your place of origin is set with the TWIN FIRES OF CREATION east of the eagles.

“Assuming that the Twin Fires of Creation are the Mage blasts that created Circle Lake and Crescent Lake, that would indicate a place in the Sunset Mountains on the western edge of Equestria. Add in the tactical weather data and we should be able to get pretty close to it.”

With a slightly predatory look, Carmen inquired far to innocently, “What do you hope to find, Adora?”

Daring Do looked up alertly, “Nothing of real value in any monetary or aesthetic sense, Mother. We hope to find physical remains of some of the earliest Gryphons. If their legends are to be believed, they started as hippogriffs and became the Gryphons that we know now.”

Kiros, a hybrid himself, suggested, “That makes perfect sense. Gryphons could not have come from an unforced mating of lions and eagles. Both are competitive carnivores and the size disparity is against it too.

“Eagles and pegassi are a lot closer, a better mating size match. The intelligence would have come from the pegasus but so would an herbivore digestive tract. Normally, that would doom the cross from malnutrition. With a lot random spell recombination in the fallout, some of the fallout might have caused survivors that hatched to force morph to a carnivore diet and hindquarters.”

Daring Do stared at him in surprise. “I did not know that you were interested in Gryphon origins, Kiros.”

Laconicly, he pointed to his horns, dragon like wings and tail along with his wolf like features. “I am not. I am interested in Hybridization. Any guesses as to WHY?”

Daring Do nodded as she helped herself to the last enchilada, “I see. Thanks for the dinner, mom. I am afraid that we have to be going, now though.”

Blendin nodded, “Might as well, the food is all gone! I’ll see you to Mom’s door to the Great Library. We will just connect it straight across to the Canterlot Main Door.”

As they were strolling through the halls and colonnades to the massive steel doors of the Great Library, Carmen caught up to them. “Blendin, dear, I need to dig up a bunch of clues for the Green Ruby of Cashin. Is it OK if I tag along?”

“Sure, Mom. No problem.”

Daring Do looked surprised. “The Green Ruby is your next target?”

Carmen managed to look both affronted and amused at the same time. “Of course not! All those clues I give the Gumshoes? I am NEVER after that thing. If I get it, great! If not, who cares? I ALWAYS get the thing that I AM after.”

Rahak’s crest shot up, rippling laughter. “Misdirection! I love it.”

Grata nodded, her own crest showing the ripples of amusement.

They came to the massive steel doors of the Great Library. Blendin inserted his ID into a spell reader and said, “Daring Do party to exit at the Canterlot main doors. Carmen Pondiego and I to research room nine.”

Carmen said, as the steel faded to mist, “Do come back, Adora. It was lovely to finally let you see our home.”

Walking through the steel mist, Daring Do and her companions emerged inside the Royal Library. As they strolled toward the street, shaking her head, Daring Do said, “Carmen Pondiego has her OWN door to the Great Library? That explains SO O O much!”

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

#DARING DO AND THE GRYPHON'S QUEST!#Part 4 of 19 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

7 notes · View notes