#she did allow me to work sitting but thought i was lazy for it. idk dude i dont want to exhaust myself fast for no reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Maidens

Alcina Dimitrescu x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: death, threats

Author’s Note: ahhhhh I loved this so much!! What i wouldn’t give to live in the castle with these ladies omg. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Requested: by anon, I'm a bit dumb ahahahahaha but I had a small idea about reader being a maiden of the castle but instead of ending up as all the others, Lady D fells for her and idk it sounds silly to me, if you don't like that idea I'm completely okay with the headcanons, idk I trust you completely 💖💖

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Mother Miranda shoved you into Castle Dimitrescu the second she saw you. She muttered something about how Alcina was getting rid of maids and food too quickly. You had come from outside the village and didn’t know much about the place you had ended up.

Truth be told you were just trying to get on for a nature walk and then you ended up in a village. That’s what you get for straying too far. You were exhausted, alone and without any kind of cell service. The woman, Mother Miranda, took a quick look at you and then pushed you into a huge castle.

That surprised you. You didn’t think there were people in castles anymore.

Confusion spread over you even further when you were handed clothes by the other maidens in the castle. You looked around eagerly, searching for an answer to where you were.

“Is there a phone here?” you asked quietly to the woman who was giving you clothes. She shook her head quickly.

“You’re not from the village are you?” she asked. She looked to be about your age but her hair was graying from the roots. Something was weighing her down, that was for sure.

“No I was walking and then....I drove too far up and couldn’t find a trail…”

“Well you better get used to it here. You’ll die here.” Her voice sounded so calm that you almost thought she was joking. But she didn’t laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“The mistress here will kill you and if she doesn’t, her daughters will.” You scoffed as she started to take off the strap of your shirt.

“Hey hey!”

“Just put these on,” she said, sighing. She sounded a little bit scared, but only a tad. You grabbed the clothes and nodded, turning around. You were in a small room that you had to guess was the servants quarters. How old was this place? You quickly got undressed and put on the clothes that she had given you. All black, knee length dress. Typical maids outfit. How did you get yourself into this?

“What are their names? What do they look like? What’s your name?”

“I’m Celeste. They took me from the village a couple of months ago. The tallest one, the lady of the house, is Alcina Dimitrescu. Her daughters are Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. The girls are made of bugs…they..drink blood,” her voice was shivering now. You scoffed.

“Vampires? Made of blood? Come on now Celeste you can’t really believe in that?” She gestured to the door.

“You’ll see soon enough. Just do as they say. Even then you might get killed.”

=====

You just walked around the castle, waiting until one of the supposed vampires found you. Bela was the one who saw you first.

“Who are you?” If you hadn’t seen her come out of thin air from bugs, you wouldn’t have believed it. You stumbled back, gasping. She looked you up and down, circling you. “One of the new madeins?”

“Uh...yes. Yes. I’m Y/N.”

“Bela Dimitrescu. Have you met my mother?” You shook your head quickly, circling around and watching her watch you.

“No, I haven’t. You’re the first of the family I’ve seen.” She nodded, stopping in front of you and grabbing your arm.

“All of the maidens have to meet my mother before they die. And I’m terribly hungry.” You shivered and let her drag you up the main stairwell. You looked around at the beautiful architecture. It wouldn’t be too bad to live there. It was gorgeous and regal.

She took you down the hall and then up another stairwell. She knocked on the door of one of the many rooms. You waited wordlessly and nervously.

“Come in,” a voice said. Even the voice sounded regal. Bela opened the door and pushed you inside.

“A new maiden!”

Alcina turned around in her chair. Your eyes went wide. She was gorgeous. Her dark lips turned up to a smile and she held her hand out, gesturing for you to come forward. You gulped and took a couple steps to her, wondering if she could truly feel your heart beating in your chest.

“What’s your name?” she asked kindly.

“Y/N.”

“Not a local?” she hummed. You shook your head gently. She nodded, grabbing your arm and then tracing her fingers down your arm, examining you. “You’ll do nicely. Don’t kill her Bela.”

“But mother!”

“Not yet. Have Celeste show her the rounds, she will do Elizabeth's old route.” Bela groaned but nodded.

“Fine.”

“I will be seeing you Y/N. I’m Alcina Dimitrescu, by the way.” You wanted to say something like ‘I figured’ but you bit your tongue. Bela grabbed your arm and led you out

=====

You spent the next couple of days doing the things that Celeste told you to do and anything the daughters wanted as well. You cleaned, helped them dress when they were feeling lazy, got people in for them to feed on.

But you didn’t see Alcina.

You would go outside of her room and clean outside but you never were allowed to go in. Celeste would clean her bathroom and bedroom. Sometimes you would hear her speak and you would strain to listen.

Celeste walked up to you, out of breath and dripping with sweat.

“Go clean Lady Dimitrescu’s room,” she said. You were scrubbing the floor on the main hall but stopped when her words registered.

“What?”

“I...Daniella...just go.” She grabbed your arm and shoved you away. Then she ran back into one of the rooms. You took a deep breath and briskly walked up the stairs to Alcinas room. You stepped in front of it and took a deep breath, holding your things.

What if she screamed at you the second you went in? What if she killed you on sight?

Better yet, what if you got to see her?

You knocked on the door and then opened it a bit.

“Lady Dimitrescu, Celeste is indisposed and has sent me to clean your room,” you said before fully entering. Alcina was sitting at her vanity and turned to look at you. Clearly something was wrong. She slammed the phone down and nodded civilly.

“Go ahead Y/N.”

You walked in and started to make her bed. She was still breathing heavily from whatever phone conversation she had been having. You glanced over at her a couple of times then decided to risk speaking.

“Are you alright?” you asked, voice quiet. She turned to you and nodded stiffly.

“Mother Miranda asks a lot of us because she knows we can handle it,” she said proudly but there was a little bit of exhaustion in her voice.

“I don’t want to overstep, but I think maybe you deserve a break,” you said, putting her pillows down. She thought about it for a moment, staring at you. No one asked her how she was doing. Mother Miranda wanted to know how the girls were, how the experiments had gone.

“I’m perfectly fine thank you.” You nodded quickly.

“I mean, of course you are. I’m sorry.” You turned and started to wipe down the other things in her room .

Alcina watched as you worked.

“How did you end up in the village?” she asked. You were surprised she still wanted to talk to you. You thought you were dead.

“Well, I was trying to take a hike but I drove too far away and then went off the trails...somehow I ended up here,” you said honestly. She nodded a bit, formally like she had to be formal in front of you.

“I suppose you regret that now.”

“I wouldn’t say I regret it. Your home is beautiful. You and your daughters seem civil. It’s at least interesting.” She nodded a bit at your words.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her, holding your wash rag to your chest.

“Of course.” You quickly turned back and finished cleaning up the room. She let you move without any protest.

====

You were eating some of the food provided by the family when Celeste approached you. This confused you because usually she was cleaning while you were eating and vice versa.

“Lady Dimitrescu wants you to clean her room from now on.” She sounded a little antsy as she spoke. You stopped chewing.

“Really? Why?”

“I have no idea.” You nodded and put your food down.

“Then I should probably go now right?” you asked. She nodded and you stood up, brushing off your clothes. “Well then I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Oh and Daniella is in a mood so watch out for her.”

Celeste nodded and you walked up to Alcinas room. She was standing up, walking out onto the balcony. You weren’t sure you had ever seen her standing. She was quite tall. You tried not to let on your surprise.

You started to get to work without speaking to her but she interrupted you.

“Have you seen the view?” You looked up.

“No. No I haven’t.” She gestured for you to come out to the balcony. You walked outside and stood beside her, looking down at the village below. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see it well when you were done there, you were whisked away so quickly.

“Wonderful view isn’t it?” she asked. You nodded.

“It is actually.” You leaned over the edge a tad, looking at how high up you were. “This castle is so big.”

“It was my familys. I got it...before the girls,” she told you.

“Well I’m happy to keep it clean.” She laughed a bit. It was a hearty laugh, matching her voice perfectly, you couldn’t help but notice.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever been happy to clean the castle before.”

“Proud to be the first then Lady Dimitrescu.” You laughed as well, leaning against the stone.

“Alcina, please.” You smiled and nodded. She watched you, a smile on her face as you laughed and felt a swell in her heart. Quickly she recognized the feeling. Admiration.

She cleared her throat.

“You should get to it,” she said, all business once more. You nodded and turned back to her room.

====

Celeste died a couple of days later. New people came. New people died.

A couple of months in, you were starting to wonder why you were still alive. Everyone that came in as a maiden died except you and you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why. Not that you were complaining.

Cassandra approached you. You were pretty familiar with each of them, as they were with you. You were standing in the library, putting some books back. You had never seen any of the daughters read them, you thought.

“How come you’re still alive?” she asked, sitting down in one of the big chairs. You turned to her.

“I was just wondering the same thing.”

“Everyone else dies in a month, tops. Not you though. I keep asking mother and asking and asking and she keeps saying no,” Cassandra said.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Bela came into the room, materializing out of her bugs. “Mother has a crush on her.” Cassandra scoffs.

“Does mother even know what a crush is?”

“Oh sure. She has to, everyone does,” Daniela said, appearing as well. You were rarely in the room with all three of them.

“Do you like her?” Cassandra asked. All three of them turned to look at you. You were caught off guard.

“Uh I suppose so,” you muttered. Bela clapped her hands. “Sounds like a plan! Set her up with mother!” You shook your head.

“She’ll...she’ll crush me!” you whispered screamed. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“You’ll live.”

====

Bela shoved you into Alcinas room. She was walking out of the bathroom. She raised her eyebrow at the sight of you.

“You aren’t usually here at this time,” she observed.

“Your daughters are standing outside the door with their ears pressed against it hoping that you admit your love for me,” you whispered nervously. She raised both eyebrows. She felt a put in her stomach at you speaking of her love so nonchalantly and then she realized that you truly didn’t believe them.

“Do you believe I’m in love with you?” she asked, amusingly. You cleared your throat nervously.

“I don’t know. I suppose you like me at least. I’ve gone through like three rotations of maidens,” you said. “But I would never assume that you would like me. You’re a goddess.”

She smiled and sat down on her vanity chair. You were almost eye to eye. She gestured for you to come forward and you did. She grabbed your hand and held it. Alcina took a deep breath.

“I do like you, more than I care to admit,” she said evenly. You realized after a second that she was waiting for you to respond.

“I like you too! A lot! You’re gorgeous and funny and...I love your house,” you admitted. She laughed.

“So it’s settled? You’ll stay?”

“I had a chance to go?” you asked in awe. She shrugged.

“I would have let you, had you asked. Do you...want to go?” You didn’t even have to think about it.

“No. I would like to stay.” She smiled brightly and nodded.

“Perhaps you could be more than a maiden, if that pleases you.” You nodded.

“It would. Although I don’t know if anyone else will clean to my standards,” you admitted. Alcina smiled.

“I’ll have the girls get you new clothing. You can be in charge of the maidens.” You nodded happily.

“That would be wonderful Alcina. You’re wonderful.” You paused for a moment, took a deep breath and kissed her. She was caught off guard and started to retract her nails but stopped quickly. When you pulled away you had her lipstick print on your lips. She pursed her lips and then smiled.

“You look wonderful.”

Bela fell through the door. Alcina stood up quickly, claws out in surprise.

“I told you not to lean on the door handle!” Cassandra hissed.

“It was Daniela!” Bela screeched standing. You supreseseed your laughter.

“Girls while you're here, why don't you go get Y/N some regular clothing yes?” Alcina suggested. They turned and nodded, smiles on their faces.

“We would love to!”

“Then go girls and leave us alone.”

The girls skipped away and Alcina smiled softly at you.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcine dimitrescu imagines #resident evil 8 imagines

218 notes · View notes

smutsonian · 4 years

Text

the mobster’s little girl

pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader

summary: what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

warnings: smut, violence, death, obsessive behavior kind of, poorly written smut (for real i skipped some), innocent reader (kind of?), lil bit of angst, drowning, accidents in the kitchen, reader getting burned, not proofread, a lot of mistakes for sure (It’s a long fic and im too lazy to find the mistakes), loss of virginity skskks, oral deed (f & m), fingering skksks, kind of a handie, please let me know if i skipped some, please read at your own risk, rumlow is a warning periodt, this has crack vibes i swear idk what i was typing at some point, ddlg? (is this ddlg? jesus fuck idek anymore), dub-con but like not really?, the POV gets fucked up towards the end so goodluck with understanding this piece of sheeet

word count: 11k (what da actual fuck? this is loooong)

a/n: df am i being awkward while writing them warnings for? Holy shit that’s a long list of warnings

big thanks to @buckys-forgotten-plum for helping me edit <3 luv u mwah

this is a combined request of a mob!steve x innocent!reader + steve teaching reader to suck his ding-a-ding-dong

this has a sucky ending. i hate the fucking ending.

also, i don’t got no clue on how to do spacing on tumblr so im terribly sorry for that.

masterlist

Maybe it’s because they were terrified. Maybe it’s because they know what’s out there and what evil lurks in every corner of the city. Whatever the reason is, her parents hid her from the outside world. Never was she able to step another foot out of the gates of her home. No matter how huge the mansion her parents keep her in, it still feels small and lonely. Instead of the friends that she should’ve made in kindergarten, she became friends with her parents’ employees. Instead of the high school friends that she was supposed to have, she has the few cleaners in the house. She didn’t feel like they work for her because they’ve become her friends that keep her sane for being in one place for her whole life. Being able to go somewhere that’s not the garden, the gazebo, or even the lake that became her favorite place has always been in her mind but never her heart never really demanded to go out. She gets curious at times but it’s not enough to make her go against her parents’ number one rule.

“Never let yourself be known and never talk to anyone outside this house. If possible, keep yourself away from the entrance gates.”

Being the obedient daughter you are, you followed that rule without question. You became the daughter that your parents wanted you to be. You learned everything from your tutor. The basics of economics but mostly proper etiquette. You didn’t know why you had to learn those but you did what your parents wanted you to do without question. You always do…

That’s why when your parents told you that you were to marry, you agreed with a little bit of hesitance. “It’s for the best, princess.” Is the only thing that your father said while your mom looked at you with a small smile. You thought that it was going to be like the ones in the movies. You imagined a magical wedding but you didn’t even have one. You were told to sign some papers and just like that, you’re married to some man you don’t even know. A man that you didn’t see until a few days after the signing of papers.

Steve never felt so disrespected in his entire life. He’s so used to being the powerful man of the city, the country even, that never did he expect some feeble man to come barreling into his business. The Y/L/Ns… He knew of them but he knew little about them. The family is so secretive but are known to be powerful. Nobody knows how they do it but now he has been graced to learn how.

Blackmail… Along with bribery. How fucking pathetic.

He didn’t know how the man managed to acquire his plans for a rival gang but somehow, the fucker did. The rival gang that he was trying to take down for so long and managed to make a plan of action until this fucker messed everything up. The bastard wanted to marry his daughter off to him for a powerful alliance. Saying something about how both of their names would benefit from the marriage. The bastard also promised a fat amount of money that he’ll receive once he marries his daughter. The bastard knew that money has always been a problem for him by the smug look on his face.

“It’s simple. You provide us security, we give you money. We seal the deal once you sign the papers to be my daughter’s husband.” The old fucker says with such pride in his voice. Steve gritted his teeth before making a move to toss the man out but the fucker clicks his tongue at him. “Ahh, we also wouldn’t want Rumlow to know about your plans on attacking his turf a fortnight from now, do we?” The old fuck stares at him as he waits for his answer.

Having no other choice, Steve says yes with flared nostrils. He glares at the way the man smiles giddily while walking towards the door. Before the old man could leave, he turned back towards Steve with a serious look before pointing a finger at him. “One more thing… My daughter will be your wife but you are not to touch her. You live at the mansion with her but you ain’t allowed to touch her. Do get out of her way as much as you can. You get all the money you want by following my orders. That easy. Nice dealing with you.” The man was out the door in an instant as Steve glared at the closed door before picking up a wine glass from his desk and throwing it against the door.

“It’s a bit weird, mother.” Is your reply when your mother came to visit you in your room and asked you about how you’re feeling given your situation. She continues to brush your hair with her fingers as she hums in response.

“It’s not like the ones in movies, that’s for sure.” You joke, earning a chuckle from your mother.

“My situation… It’s not really normal, correct?” You pull away from your mother’s hands and turn to look at her. She lets out a sigh before turning you back around and resuming to play with your hair. “No…” She says. “We might have been a bit strict with you but we only did it for your safety. The world out there… It’s not safe.” She continues. Once again, you pull away from your mother to fully give your attention to her. “But you and father are always out there. You put yourselves in danger on the daily so why can’t I?” You look at your mother who was looking at you with an unamused expression. You let out a sigh before sighing. “I know... I know. It sounds a bit silly to ask myself to be put in danger… But what about marrying me off to some stranger! You told me that father is bringing him here after he signed the papers. He’s to live here with all of us. Mother, we don’t even know him. Why would you let a stranger into our home?” You reason out, making exaggerated hand gestures to back yourself up. When your mother makes no effort to respond to you, you retort with a scoff and an eye roll.

“You’re so hell-bent on keeping me inside this place, claiming that it’s to protect me that you failed to realize that you’re putting all of us in danger by letting an unknown man live with us. Seems kind of idiotic to me.”

*SLAP*

You look at your mother with wide eyes as you hold your left cheek as it is stinging in pain. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was disrespectful of me. I’m sorry.” You scrambled to get away from your mother, ignoring her calls as you left your room to run down the long hallway and down the flight of circular stairs. You went out of the mansion and started running down a pathway towards the lake. You were so upset and focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t see a strange man coming out of a black SUV just as you walked out of the mansion.

You ran down the wooden dock, frowning at what you had said to your mother. You couldn’t believe how you acted just now. First, you disrespect your mother. Now, you hide yourself away like a child that got reproved for the first time. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, an action that you got from your father, as you paced around the wooden dock. “Of course, they were just trying to protect you, you stupid idiot.” You hit your forehead with your palms over and over before tilting your head backward to stare at the sky, not caring at how your eyes hurt at the blinding sun.

You closed your eyes after a few seconds, sighing out as you figured that you should probably go back. Your so-called husband was supposed to arrive today. You start to walk back when your foot slipped and suddenly, water enveloped your body.

You fell into the lake.

You would think that being locked up in a big mansion would give you a lot of time to learn how to swim but with your luck, no one ever thought you how so now you couldn’t do anything but drown.

Your arms flopped around you as you kicked your legs all over the place just to get some air down your lungs but you only found yourself sinking further down. You couldn’t even scream for help because you know that if you did, you would only be swallowing a whole lot of water.

Before you could lose your breath entirely, something grasped your flailing hand. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t pulled out of the water. Turned out, it was a hand. Not some kind of creature from the fantasy movies you’ve watched.

You were sitting on the wooden dock, gasping for air when the sound of an annoyed huff caught your attention. You tilt your head up to see a man looking down at you with an annoyed expression. Your brain started clicking and then it hit you. He must be your husband.

“You’re here early.” You whisper, looking down. You weren’t sure how to act around him. Around your husband. You would base it on the movies you’ve watched but so far, those movies were nothing like your life. You were sure that if you tried to act like one of the characters there, you would look like a complete buffoon.

“So glad to know that I’m married to a dumbass.” He cuts your thoughts off with a sneer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and drown like that.” You remember the lessons you had. About not engaging in someone else’s hostility. You looked down in embarrassment. You’ve never been called something vile like that so you must’ve made him really upset. He scoffs before shaking his head and leaving you on the wooden floor as he walks away.

After that encounter with your so-called husband, you never really saw him again, even though the two of you were living in the same house. It was a few weeks after the drowning incident and you made sure to not tell anyone about it and you only hoped that Steve (you had to learn his name from your mother) didn’t tell anyone about it either. You and your mother are in good terms again and she’s currently in your room again, telling you how she and your father are to spend a few months in Prague to deal with a few business hiccups. You didn’t bother to ask if you could come with but you did bother to complain about them leaving. “You’re leaving me alone with a stranger under the same roof as me?” You exaggeratedly widened your eyes at your mother. “Oh, stop it. I’ve gotten to know Steve myself. I’m sure you’ll be safe with him. He seems like a nice guy. Although, I think your father gets a little bit on his nerves.” Your mother giggles to herself and you look at her with an amused grin. “You’re closer to my husband than I am with him.” You joked which earned a sympathetic look from your mother.

“Talk to him. He’s your husband after all.” She caresses your face. You hold her wrist as you push your cheeks towards her hold. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, mother. I have a feeling that he’s scrupulously avoiding me.”

“How about you bake him something, hmm? You’re wonderful at baking!” Your mother grins at your excited reaction to the mention of baking.

“I do love to bake…” You hummed in thought before giving your mother a faux pointed look. “Alright, I will bake but only because I love to bake. So if he doesn’t want to socialize with me, then so be it. I wouldn’t care.” You huff proudly as your mother looked at you with a grin and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.

“What is it?” You ask her.

“Why do I get the feeling that you want to impress Steve?” She chuckles at your stunned expression.

“You have completely lost your mind, mother. Haven’t you got a plane to catch? Go on. Say hello to Prague for me!” You push her out of your room, her laughing at your antics before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaving you to yourself.

“Ooof!” You hissed as your finger touched the hot tray when you were pulling it out of the oven. You were making the third batch of cookies and somehow, you managed to burn your finger now. You quickly pulled the mittens off before putting the hot finger into your lips, as if sucking the pain away is possible.

You heard footsteps coming over and when you turned your head, you saw Steve looking at you with something you couldn’t comprehend. “H-hey.” You pulled your finger out of your mouth before hiding it behind your back like a kid. You tiptoed over the counter to reach the plate of cookies before walking over to him. “I made cookies. Would you… like to try some?” You moved the plate closer to his face but he only scowled at you before taking your right wrist and surveying your hand. He found the finger you were sucking on earlier and muttered something under his breath. You thought you heard him say ‘dumbass’ again like the last time.

“Put cream on it.” He grumbled before leaving the kitchen. You glared at his back until he turned back around, making you wipe the glare out of your face before smiling bitterly at him. He walked towards you with a dark look until he was inches away from you. The position you two are currently in made you realize how tall he is. How he’s towering over you and how his biceps are poking out of his shirt. His crystal blue eyes are staring deep into your soul and you were almost hypnotized by it. You gulped in nervousness. You remember all the things you told your mother about this certain stranger that could possibly be a danger to you until he smirked and took the plate of cookies from the table before walking out once more, leaving you gaping at the door in confusion as your heart was beating faster than normal. From fear or something else, you do not know.

----

Steve was deep in thought as he chewed on the cookies she made. It was really delicious and he hated that he liked it. He did his best to avoid the girl. He’s trying his best to avoid the girl. He did his best to hate the girl so things would be easier for him. He’s trying his best to hate the girl. He didn’t have time to babysit her. Her father is not someone he wanted to have ties with but he is. Steve didn’t want anything that has to do with that man and that includes her.

But why is it so hard for him to keep her out of his mind?

The first time he saw her, she had that cute little frown on her face but he found his heart skipping a beat at the sadness in her eyes. He knew he would regret following her but then he didn’t. He saw her as she fell down the dock and he didn’t know why he felt like his world stopped when he saw her gasping for air but it did. It took him his best efforts not to just dive into the lake to save her. Instead, he took her flailing hands and easily pulled her out of the waters. He wanted to keep her warm when he saw her shivering on the wooden floor but he suddenly remembered the deal. His worry was quickly converted into anger and annoyance so he managed to leave her alone, something heavy in his chest as he walked away from her.

He hated the way she made him feel so he avoided her like a plague. Their home was big and avoiding her was really easy. It was stopping himself from going near her is the hard part. Her mother is the total opposite of her father. Her mother is a nice woman and living with the Y/L/Ns didn’t feel like a job other than her horrid father. Steve got to learn more about her through her mother. She talked about her so dearly. Steve felt his heart fall at the mention of her not leaving the mansion. It sounded like she was an animal caged in better surroundings. Steve realized why she acted so differently when he’s watching her. She seemed so… innocent.

Then he caught her baking cookies. It took him his best not to run towards her when he heard her hiss in pain. He watched as she tried to hide her injury from him. He didn’t know if he found it cute or annoying because she shouldn’t hide injuries from him. From anyone. If she was injured, she should get it to check as soon as possible. Then she offered him cookies. Steve swore that his heart leaped in adoration but he took the offered plate in front of him as a chance to check on her hand. He observed her fingers, internally flinching as he saw the burnt area on her index finger. “Such a clumsy little girl…” He muttered under his breath. Steve caught himself though. Why was he so worried about her? He quickly composed himself and dropped her hand. Before turning to leave. He heard her huff and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. He turned around to see her frowning at him only to have her eyes widened in surprise. She gave him a stubborn smile as he walked over to her, teasing her and testing her to see where her cuteness could go. Where her STUBBORNNESS could go. Did he really just say cute?

When he thought she had had enough, he smirked and took the plate of cookies before leaving.

The plate of cookies that he’s currently munching on.

The more Steve thinks about it, the more he’s realizing that he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. It was impossible.

The more he sees her, the more he wants to be with her. The more he sees her, the more he wants to protect her because it seems like she has a way of putting herself in danger.

So innocent.

So pure.

He wanted her and he didn’t know if he could control himself anymore.

A week has passed and things with your husband seemed to have gotten better, if one is optimistically speaking.

He no longer avoided you so that’s better than before. He doesn’t acknowledge you much though. He only speaks to you to correct your every move. Called you out when you were walking barefoot around the mansion, mocked you when you walked around the docks, and even demanded you to leave the kitchens alone because according to him, you don’t know how to properly use it.

He only ever opened his mouth to speak his mind of his distaste towards you and you were starting to miss the times when he completely avoided you.

But you ignored the insults and kept your head high up. You aren’t going to sulk. Especially not when someone’s clearly made it his goal to make you feel just that.

That’s why you’re currently making pasta. Ignoring his demand and continuing on having adventures in the kitchen. You just finished making the sauce so now you just have to cook the pasta. You took a pot that was way bigger than your head and proceeded to fill it with water from the sink.

You struggled to carry it over to the stove, letting out a relieved sigh once you managed to set it down. The problem though, the bottom of the pot somehow got stuck on the burner plate. You clicked your tongue in annoyance before grunting and attempting to pull on the heavy pot. It remained stuck so you exerted more effort, succeeding but managing to tilt the pot towards yourself. You let out a yelp as the cold water inside the pot spills all over you.

“Y/N!”

You felt his hands before you heard his voice.

——

Steve heard clanking noises from the kitchen and he just had to roll his eyes at the thought of her prancing around the kitchen. Didn’t he tell her to leave the kitchen alone? He’s just trying to stray her from the harm she could put herself in. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

He walked into the kitchen, just in time to see water spill over her from the boiling pot. His blood went cold as he felt his heart stopping. “Y/N!” He rushed over her knelt body, covered in water. He cautiously touched her face, being careful not to hurt her possibly burnt skin. Why can’t she just listen to him? He told her not to work in the kitchen for a reason.

As he touched her seemingly cold cheeks, he watched as she looked up at him with an innocent confused look. “Steve?” Her voice was so meek yet it made his ear start to ring as his heart started to beat back to life. She must’ve seen his frantic expression because her eyes widened in realization before she’s shaking her head and pointing at the fallen pot. “I haven’t boiled the water yet! See? I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.” She had the audacity to smile cheekily at him and he didn’t know if he should be leaping in joy with her or reprimanding her for being so careless.

Steve clicked his tongue at her, something that he must’ve picked up from her, before leaving the kitchen with a huff. Something that he’s been doing a lot whenever he’s with her.

——

After he left, you took a seat on one of the chairs, recalling what just happened a few moments ago. He thought you were stupid enough to pour boiling water all over yourself. Does he really think you’re that stupid? He looked so worried though. You smiled at the thought of him possibly caring about you.

You let out a short squeak when you felt something falling at the top of your head. A towel. Steve wrapped it around you until your head was the only part exposed. “Whatcha grinning on about, little girl?” His voice was stern but there was a teasing tone in it. You looked up at him as he watched you. You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows when he bought the pot towards the sink, filling it with water.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is small as you asked him.

“Can’t trust you with this. You might boil yourself the next time you even try.” He clicked his tongue before effortlessly bringing the pot to the stove and lighting it up. After that he walked back towards you and sat at the chair beside you, turning himself to stare back at you.

“I thought I made it clear when I told you not to work in the kitchens?” He mockingly tilted his head before raising one eyebrow at you. You stared back at him, not knowing what to say so you just tilted your head down like a chided kid.

“Uh uh uh…” You felt his long fingers under your chin as he tilted your head back to face him. “What’s the matter? Did you manage to burn your tongue as well? Hmm?” You didn’t know why but the way he was talking to you is making you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach.

When you didn’t answer, he put the hand that was on your chin to the side of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered when he managed to poke his thumb into your mouth and pressed it down your tongue gently.

“Seems pretty alright for me…” He mumbles. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise when you sucked on his thumb absentmindedly. You realized what you were doing and stopped immediately. “No. No, don’t stop. Do it again.” He watched you with bright eyes as you hesitantly sucked on his thumb once more, feeling your body warming up at the current situation.

He slowly pulls his thumb out before rubbing it around your lips and leaning his face closer to yours. You could feel your heart panicking in fright or in excitement, you weren’t sure. You saw him close his eyes before he let out a sigh. He pulls away from you then ruffles the towel on your head. “Why don’t you go ahead and put dry clothes on? I think the pasta’s ready.” He grins before walking back toward the stove to start preparing the meal.

You stumbled to your feet, mindlessly walking towards your room with a clouded mind.

What was that all about?

All Steve could ever think about was her. Her beautiful lips. Her eyes that glisten with innocence. Her nose twitches whenever she’s focused on something. The way she fits in his hold. The way she reacts under his touch.

He couldn’t forget about the way she sucked on his thumb unknowingly and the way her eyes became hooded from his touch. It’s obvious that she had no idea what was happening and what she was feeling and that only fueled his hunger more.

The thought of her being hurt made him furious. It made him protective. He wants to protect her at all costs because not even the ends of her hair should get hurt. No. Not on his watch.

Steve couldn’t take her out of her mind even if he wanted to. That’s the problem. He doesn’t want her out of his mind anymore. He doesn’t want to avoid her anymore.

Steve accepted it.

He knows that he wants her and he knows that she’ll be able to have him wrapped around her precious little finger if she wants to.

He realized how she has a tight hold over him without even knowing it and he’s accepted that fact.

He’s ready to do everything for the girl and she doesn’t even know it. He’s ready to give her everything he has and everything he is.

He’s ready to give himself completely to her. Of course, it is if she’ll have him.

After that encounter with Steve, you finally followed his instruction and stopped trying to make various meals in the kitchen.

You were craving cake so you asked one of the cooks to bake you a cake. That’s why there’s a whole cute pink cake in front of you at the kitchen counter.

You’re currently staring at it, thinking it’s too precious to destroy and eat but after a minute of your mouth watering, you give up and run your index finger on the sides until it is covered in icing.

You licked your finger before sucking on it and humming at the sweet taste of the icing while your eyes are closed. When there is none left on your finger, you take your index and middle finger before sliding it on the sides of the cake to gather twice as much as the previous one.

Your eyes are closed and lips parted slightly apart, ready to suck on your fingers one more time when a hand grips your wrist. Your eyes fly open to see Steve holding your hand while he’s looking down at your face with a boyish grin. Your eyes widened for the second time when his tongue darted out of his mouth and started licking the icing off your fingers.

He was staring at you as he continued to lick the icing and you were starting to pull away when his lips parted wider to start sucking on your fingers. You’re frozen in shock as your eyes twitched at the sight of him sucking on your fingers.

You feel your heart drop when he starts groaning against your fingers. The unfamiliar feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you bit your bottom lip anxiously at the strange feelings you always get whenever Steve’s with you.

Your eyes follow Steve’s lips as he pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a silent pop. He looks at you with a smile before furrowing his brows. “Did you bake this?”

“N-no! I had someone to bake it for me.” You’re quick to let him know that you didn’t make the cake. He smiled again and you just realize how giddy you feel when you’re able to make him smile like that.

“Really? So you finally listened to me?” He chuckles when he sees you nod shyly at him. “Aren’t you a good little girl.” He cooes before looking at the cake with a smirk. “This cake is really delicious…” He leans back to stand straight and you nodded at him in agreement. “I wonder…”

You let out a loud squeal when he suddenly puts his hands under your arms before pulling you up and sitting you down on the counter. You look at him with a stunned expression. “Wha—“

“But I bet you taste better than this cake.” You couldn’t respond because he immediately connects his lips with yours, making your eyes pop out in shock as he continues to attack your mouth. You let out a small whimper when you feel his tongue pushing past your lips and roaming around the inside of your mouth, tickling the roof of your mouth.

You start chuckling against his lips and he stops, looking at you in confusion. “You’re tickling me…” You point at the top of your mouth and Steve’s frown turned into a grin. His hand found their ways on the top of your knees and then he’s pushing them apart. “I know a place where I can tickle you... I’m sure you’ll like it.” He pulls you closer to him so you slide against the counter. He carefully pushes your shoulders until your back is laying on the cold kitchen counter. You feel him hiking your skirt up and pulling your underwear down before he sets your feet back on the counter, knees bent, and far apart.

You could feel him breathing against your skin and you could feel your body running hot while the hairs on your body stand in attention. You feel something wet run against your skin and you yelp as you sit on your elbows, looking at Steve alarmingly. His face was just in front of your core and tongue is just retreating your skin.

“Wh-what are you doing, Steve?” You bite your lip as you watch him stand up until he’s face to face with you. “I’m trying to make you feel good, baby. Do you trust me?” He presses his lips against yours and pulls away, waiting for your answer.

“I don’t know…” You admit, stomach dropping at the sadness that flashes over his face.

“Then let me show you that you can trust me. Can you let me do that?” He looks at you and smiles when you nod at him. He presses his lips on you once more, pushing you against the kiss until your back is back on the counter. He pulls away, pecking you one last time before going back to press kisses in between your legs.

He licks up your skin, hands pressing down on your hips when you begin squirming around. You feel his mouth sucking on the bud before flicking his tongue over it. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining under him, unsure if you want him to stop or to do something else.

“What do you want, little girl?” He breathes against your core, making your legs shiver at the sensation.

“I don’t know…” You whine, eyes staring at him as he stands over your body. He raises his right hand, fingers fluttering in display as he gives you a questioning look. “You want me to use this on you?” You could only nod in desperation because the feeling of emptiness when he pulled away from you is becoming too much.

“Good girl.” You hear him whisper before going back in between your legs. You feel his fingers playing with your bud instead of his tongue and it feels overwhelming when he uses his tongue to press it against your entrance.

“Mmmhm” You close your eyes in delight as he continues to play with you. The familiar feeling in your abdomen makes itself known once again and this time, it’s stronger. You need more.

“P-please…” You mutter under your breath, pulling on Steve’s hair to catch his attention. He looks at you with a proud smile before asking. “What is it? You need more? Want me to put my finger inside you, is that it?”

——

Steve smiles when she nods her head eagerly. So innocent, can’t even tell him what she wants. What she needs.

He rubs on her clit a few more times to wet his fingers before lining a finger against her slit. He looks back at her as he starts pushing the finger in, slowing down when her hand grips her arm.

Steve groans at the tightness of her walls against his finger and starts to slowly pump it as he watches her face contort into a pleasured frown. When he feels her loosening up, he adds another finger that earns a low moan from her. Steve stiffens for a second when he feels his pants getting tighter in the crotch area. His cock is begging him for attention but he pays no mind, focusing on the angel in front of him.

He spreads his fingers apart inside of her as he leans down to start flicking his tongue against her clit, smirking against it when her thighs shiver against his head. He feels her breaths starting to become uneven and he knows that she’s just about to cum so he doubles his effort, sucking her clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of her.

Her back arches off the counter and Steve hooks an arm under her to pull her up and press her against his chest. She shakes against his hold as he helps her get through her high. She slumps against his hold, head falling down the side of his neck.

Steve tilts his head to look at her face, eyes hooded and forehead sweating. She looks so adorable like this. “That cake gave us such a rush, huh?” He chuckles before hooking her legs around his torso and hugging her body close to his. He feels her dozing off as he carries her to her bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and tucks you under your blanket before studying your face. So peaceful. So relaxed. A smile forms on your face and Steve finds himself smiling as well.

“Goodnight, my sweet little girl.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room.

It’s currently four in the afternoon and Steve is currently sitting on a couch in the massive living room, thinking about the night he has planned for him and his little girl.

After that time in the kitchen, things have been great with them. It’s been a few months and he became someone he didn’t know he could be and it was all for her. He wants nothing but the best for his girl. He gives her the ‘special treatment’ or ‘reward’ whenever she asks for it. She’ll do something nice for him to receive his special kisses but Steve knew that he’ll give her anything without her working for it. He just likes the attention he gets from her when she gets a little needy.

Steve feels his crotch stirring under his pants at the thought of eating his little girl out. He always eats her out and makes her putty with his fingers but his cock remains abandoned.

He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t want to scare his girl. He’ll wait as long as he needs until his little girl’s ready for him. For the time being, he’ll make sure to keep his little girl happy and satisfied.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his little girl walked in front of him with a weird look on her face, a phone held against her right ear. He sits up in attention, his body becoming alert at the way her face scrunches up in fear as she looks at him.

“What’s wrong, little girl?” His voice is a whisper but his tone is hard.

She looks at him with a frown before handing him the phone. He looks at it and listens to her as she speaks.

“Father called… Which is weird because he never calls when they’re on a trip. Let alone a business trip. He told me that the trip would be a few months and I didn’t think they would be in some kind of situation after being gone for almost seven months… They’re usually gone longer than that. But then that guy—” She points at the phone in Steve’s hand before continuing her explanation.

“—That guy took the phone away from my father when he’s explaining something to me about telling something to you, Steve. His name is Rumlow and he’s got a very foul mouth—” He watches as her nose scrunches up, probably at the memory of the man’s words on the phone but Steve didn’t care about that. He’s worried about Rumlow talking to you. Through your father’s phone at that!

Steve presses the phone against his ear before asking who’s on the other line.

“Ahh, Rogers… Where’s the little brat? I thought she’s enjoying the things I’m promising her. Told her about how my cock will make her cunt cry—” Steve feels his blood boiling at the way Rumlow is talking about his little girl.

“What are you on about, Rumlow? What are you doing with that phone?” Steve cuts Rumlow off, voice so harsh that he sees her flinching at his tone. He smiles at her before ushering her back to her room.

“You see… Your girl is supposed to be mine. I saw her first but imagine the surprise I got when I ask her dear daddy for her hand and he tells me that she’s married to a Steve fucking Rogers.” Steve hears Rumlow’s bitter laugh before hearing her little girl’s father groan in pain, no doubt that he took a blow from Rumlow.

“I just want a simple deal here, Rogers. I’ll text the address and I expect to have the girl and a bag filled with… I don’t know, ten million dollars? If you’re too broke then just bring the girl. I’m sure she’ll make the lack of ten million with her pretty little cunt.” Rumlows cackle was heard along with the cries of your parents. He must’ve held them as hostages.

“Do that and her parents stay safe. Be here at 9 pm sharp or it’s bye-bye for her lovely parents. Tik-Tok, Rogers. Tik-Tok…” Steve almost crushes the phone into pieces in his hand when Rumlow hangs up on him. Rumlow holds your parents as hostages and dares to speak about you like that. He’ll fucking kill him.

The phone buzzes and he sees the address Rumlow sent him. They were no longer in Prague. They’re back here...

Steve makes a move to call his best man, Bucky, when he hears sounds coming from her room. He quickly runs over, throwing her door open to see her shoving a bunch dollar bills into a huge bag while a phone is pressed against her neck and her shoulder.

Steve’s heart falls at the sight of tears falling down her face. She must’ve heard everything with the connecting phone lines. He sighs before walking over to his girl and steadying her by holding her shoulders in a firm grip. “Everything will be alright. I’ll call someone to fix the problem. They’ll clear the building, catch the bad guy, and then your parents will be home in no time!” Steve gives her a smile but it doesn’t work. Her face is still wet with tears as she shakes her head in disagreement.

“No! The b-bad guy will harm my parents if he sees your men without me! I don’t w-want anything bad happening to my family, Steve. I-I don’t want that!” He pulls her against his chest as he sobs and shakes against his hold. Steve runs a comforting hand on her back before sighing in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll save your parents but I have to call my friends for backup. And you have to stay as far away from the fighting. I’ll have my best guy, James, be with you the whole time. You can trust him, he’s my best friend. You need to stick with him because he’ll keep you safe, got it?” He gives her a firm yet gentle look, jaw clenching when she nodded eagerly at him before continuing to fill the bag with cash.

He makes his calls and in no time, they’re driving towards the address Rumlow sent him.

Steve parks the car a few miles away from the building where her parents are being held as hostages. He looks at his little girl who’s currently wearing sweatpants and his hoodie which looks pretty big on her. He smiles at the sight before letting out a shaky breath.

“You gotta stay here, okay? I promise that I’ll get your parents out safely. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll protect them for you, okay? You trust me, little girl?” He watches her as she reluctantly nods her head. He sighs at that before handing her a pistol gun. “You know how to use one?” He asks, surprised to see his little girl nod. She must’ve seen his surprised look because she looks down before explaining, “I had basic shooting lessons.” He smiles at his little girl before nodding.

He gets out of the car before walking around and opening the door for his girl and helping her out. He sees James walking over to them and he nods at his friend in acknowledgment before looking back at his girl. “This is Bucky. He’ll keep you safe. Stick with him, alright?” He watches her girl as she observes his friend with her adorable curious eyes.

“The others are already surrounding the building. Backup is also ready. Just say something and they’ll attack. Good luck out there.” He smiles at Bucky’s words before kissing his girl’s forehead.

“Please stay safe, Steve.” His girl mutters and he feels his heart skip a beat at that moment. “I will. Anything for you, little girl.” He turns to leave, hearing his girl one last time before disappearing.

“That’s a nice-looking vest, Mr. Bucky.”

Everything was going well for Steve. Rumlow’s men are really weak and easy to take down and when Rumlow realized that, he ran. He ran away like the coward he is. He ran out of the building and that was that. At least, that’s what Steve thought.

He was able to see her parents and he quickly untied them, her mother thanking him endlessly while her father only grumbled his thanks once.

He was guiding the couple out of the building, surprised to see his little girl standing a few miles away from them with Bucky. He sees her eyes brighten in relief that made all his worries disappear.

He was walking with her parents when he heard the cocking of a gun beside his head.

“Not so fast.” A raspy voice speaks beside him.

Rumlow…

Before Steve could even move, a bang was heard. Followed by another bang that has his ears ringing in pain. He closes his eyes to ease the aching in his head or his body. Was he shot?

His eyes fly open when he remembers that his girl is also out in the open and his eyes quickly darts over towards her.

To his surprise, his girl is holding the gun he gave her earlier in his direction.

Steve quickly scans the couple near him for injuries when he hears someone groaning below him. He finds Rumlow laying on his back, legs bleeding while his arms are spread out.

He looks back at his girl, a sense of pride filling his system. His girl just did that.

He watches as his girl runs towards him with her arms wide open, ready to envelop him in a hug.

Steve grins before he hears Rumlow muttering and everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

“If I can’t have her… Then nobody can!” Rumlow spits before a loud bang go out.

Steve’s eyes grow wide when he sees the bullet piercing through his hoodie and into his girl’s chest.

His heart stops when he sees her falling down into Bucky’s arms and onto the cold ground.

Her mother’s cries filled Steve’s ringing ears as well as her father’s curses as he tried to console his wife.

Steve quickly kicks the gun from Rumlow’s hand before kicking the bastard’s face repeatedly until he’s unconscious. He releases all his anger on the bastard who shot his little girl by bending down and throwing punches down the unconscious man. He keeps punching until he sees Bucky carrying his girl towards them.

He pulls back from a bleeding Rumlow before running towards Bucky and taking his girl from his best friend. He brushes some stray hair away from her forehead before observing her face.

“Call the fucking ambulance!” He barks at nobody but Bucky follows his order, quickly fumbling with his phone and calling their mob doctor.

Steve was about to rip his hoodie off his girl when her eyes suddenly flew open, gasping for air.

Steve’s heart stops for a second, he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or relief but he’s grateful to see his little girl alive and breathing. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on the side of his neck as she catches her breath. He wraps his arm around her shaking body, gripping her tight and pulling her body against his like he’s afraid that she’ll slip away from his grasp.

“Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hears his girl talking to her parents who are currently behind him. He should let her go to reunite with her parents but he doesn’t. He keeps her against his body.

“Are you okay, dear?” Her mother asks and he feels his girl nodding against his neck. His girl finally pulls away from him before tugging on the hoodie she’s wearing and pulling it up to reveal a bulletproof vest.

Bucky’s laughter fills the air and everyone turns to look at him. “You little genius!” He exclaims before pointing at his little girl. “She kept bothering me about my vest and didn’t stop until I gave her one! Ah... You got yourself a keeper and a smartass, Steve!” He continues to laugh, her parents soon follow Bucky until everyone is laughing as well.

Everyone’s laughter is cut off by Rumlow waking up before gasping for air just like you were a few moments ago.

He pulls his girl against his chest, blocking her view from Bucky who gets his gun out before pointing it towards Rumlow’s head.

Steve covers his girl’s ears before another bang goes out. The last one for the night.

“I’m really fine, Steve. Dr. Banner said I was fine! No scars and all, see?” You pull your hoodie up to assure him. You watch him stare at your skin, probably looking for scars before he forces your hoodie down with a frown as he bites his lip.

“You can’t just pull your shirt up like that. People might see.” His hushed and commanding voice makes you gulp and nod apologetically.

You look around as he walks the both of you towards the lake. “But there’s nobody around, Steve.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt as you walk with him.

You feel his warm fingers under your chin before your head is tilted up so you’re looking directly up at him. “You really are a smartass, huh?” He smirks, feeling your body warm up against his hold before throwing his arm around your shoulders to continue walking.

Steve holds you close as the both of you walk down the dock under the darkness of the night. He stops just at the end of the dock before turning to face you.

You admire his face, looking so enchanting under the light of the moonlight. “You remember the first time we met?” He asks, grinning at your embarrassed reaction which is you chewing your bottom lip. He caresses your face before running his thumb across your lips, stopping your teeth’s attacks on your lips.

��“How you’re taught to shoot a gun but not how to swim will always be a mystery.” He chuckles, smiling down at you and you watch him as he does just that. He’s just so pretty to look at.

“You really scared me tonight, little girl…” His sad tone made your eyebrows shoot up in worry. “I-I didn’t mean to, Steve! I’m so sorry.” You frown at yourself but he brushes his fingers on the wrinkles you made between your eyebrows which makes you relax just a bit.

“I was supposed to be the one protecting you. Not the other way around.” He lets out a sigh before looking at the water. “But thank you. Thank you for doing that. And for trusting me. I know you were a little hesitant with trusting me but you still did. So thank you for that. It means a lot.” Steve looks back at you and smiles. You feel your heart fluttering at his smile but it also breaks at his words. You wanted to tell him that he’s wrong but you are cut off by a bunch of lights.

You gasp at the lights that start to flicker all around you. You do a slow full 360, looking at the trees that are covered with fairy lights, the side of the docks are covered with lights as well, and the darkness is soon replaced by a whole bunch of lights. Your heart starts to jump when you hear slow music playing in the background and it feels like every time you do a full 360 turn, something new presents itself.

Everything seems so magical, so pretty and so… Something straight out of the fairytale movies that you watch.

You turn to face Steve again only to find him gone. You frown before looking down to see him down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hand which he holds towards you.

You feel yourself grinning with so much joy running through your system and you can’t help but to let out a squeal when the velvet box opens to reveal a very pretty diamond ring.

“Little girl… Will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy which makes you giggle. You start giggling more which makes Steve lick his lips as his eyes flash his nervousness.

“Steve, you’re so dumb.” You mumble through giggles.

“Huh?” Steve slowly stands up, looking at you with sad eyes.

“We’re already married! We both signed the papers!” You point out the obvious, stopping your giggle fit before kissing him on the lips.

“Don’t be sad, Steve… I accept your proposal… Even though we’re already married.” You giggle once more before letting him put the ring on you.

He guides you until the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling down the water.

“I just wanted you to have a normal yet magical experience even just for a moment,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s kind of useless.” You automatically say.

“What? Why?” Steve feels his heart fall at your words. Is he doing this whole thing wrong?

“I already feel like that whenever I’m with you.” You state, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Steve feels his heart beat an extra mile but he also feels relieved that he’s indeed doing it right.

You grin at the sight of Steve blushing in front of you. You never thought that the man who was so hard on you the first time you met was going to be a blushing mess in front of you right now.

“Hey, Steve?” Your voice cuts the thin air and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“You know how I saved your life earlier…” Steve smiles at your bashful expression that he finds so adorable.

“Mhmm…” He nonchalantly hums.

“Well… I was thinking…” You bite your lip in nervousness and embarrassment at the question you’re about to ask him.

“What is it, little girl?” His voice is matched with a chuckle as he gives you a grin.

“Can I have a reward for that?” You blurt out.

Steve feels his cock stir in his pants at her words. He bites his lip before standing up and helping her up as well.

“I’ll give you everything you want, little girl. It doesn’t have to be a reward. You ask for it, you get it, is that clear?” He gives you a questioning look before smiling when you nod eagerly at him.

“Now, what is it that you want as a reward?”

————-

He trails kisses from your forehead to your nose, nose to your cheeks, cheeks to your neck. He purposely skips your lips with a grin and starts feasting on your neck. He licks and sucks on a spot he knows too well, earning an adorable squeak from you when he teasingly bites on the skin. “S-Steve!” You gasp, hands going straight to his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. He continues nipping on your neck until your head tilts back and a quiet moan escapes your lips.

He pulls away to look at you and then smirks.

“You want me to give you those special kisses for your rewards?” He cocks a brow before smiling when you nod your head eagerly at him. “Y-yes please.”

Steve wastes no time to pleasure you. His little girl.

He dives for your glistening core and groans in pleasure at your taste. He uses his tongue to stimulate you through your clit, enjoying the way your body shakes under his hold.

Steve listens to your moans and whimpers like a song and uses it as motivation to keep you a writhing mess under him. “Please, S-Stevie…” He hears you cry under him, reaching your hands towards his hands and pulling it closer to his face as he tongues your clit.

Steve chuckles at your needy behavior but complies, not missing the nickname leaving your lips. Anything for his little girl.

Steve easily enters a finger into your wet core, groaning at your warmness and wetness before adding another finger. He sees your face contorting into a mix of pleasure and pain. Steve leans down to kiss your clit and flicks his tongue faster to distract you from the pain.

“A-aah” He watches your eyes rolling back when he begins to spread his fingers inside you. Another finger enters and you’re crumbling against his fingers, walls closing around his fingers as you cum undone under him. He pulls away from you before reaching for your face and kissing you hungrily. He smiles against the kiss when he feels you return the kiss with the same hunger.

He feels you pulling away and he lets you, frowning a little when he sees you looking at him timidly. His hand carefully reaches for your face, knuckles gliding down for cheeks smoothly. “What is it, little girl?”

He watches you bite your lip before looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I w-want to give you special kisses too…” Steve freezes as he feels his cock getting harder than before. He feels your hands reaching for his member, giving him a look before gulping. “C-can you teach me? I want to make you feel good too…”

Steve doesn’t know which is beating harder; his cock or his heart, maybe both… Probably both. You do that to him. Only you. His little girl.

Steve finds himself gulping as well. “You don’t have to, litt—”

“I want to!” You’re quick to cut him off. Almost eager, he notices. He lets out a nervous laugh before nodding. “Okay, okay… I’ll teach you.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up from his approval. He smiles at you before guiding your hands that’s currently holding his hard member.

“Just do this gently…” He guides your hands up and down his shaft, head going crazy at the sight of your hands not being able to cover his huge cock. He bites his lip, willing himself to hold on and not cum on your hands so early.

“C-can I kiss it now?” He looks down at you, sitting on the mattress as your innocent eyes look up at him while he stands on the ground. “Go ahead, little girl. Try it.” He encourages you, smiling when you press a quick kiss on his tip. His jaw clenches when you press another kiss, longer this time.

Steve’s eyes flutter when he feels your tongue dancing around his tip. You begin to lick along the shaft and then under, making Steve groan wantonly.

Steve lets out a frustrated huff when you quickly pull away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just doing what you did to me. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Your eyes are teary and Steve realized that his moans made you think that you hurt him.

He sighs before leaning down to your face, giving you an assuring smile before kissing your nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little girl. You’re doing everything right. In fact, you’re doing so great that my friend down there couldn’t help but to go wild under your touch.” He points at his member before grinning at your widened eyes.

“I’m going to guide you. There’s no reason to be afraid. If you want to stop, just tap me and we will stop. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?” He waits for your response and lets out a breath of relief when you nod.

He stands back up, putting your hands on his behind and guiding your face just in front of his cock. “Open wide, little girl.” He sings and grins when you do as told. He holds the back of your head but never pushes you, leaving you to go at your own pace.

You push yourself forward, taking him halfway before pulling back and pushing yourself back to him. His moans of pleasure push you to do more so you do. You swirl your tongue on his tip as you bob your head, smiling at the loud moan that leaves his lips.

“You little tease…” He breathes out, his grip on your head getting tighter but not enough to hurt you. He feels the vibration of your laughter on his cock and he lets out another cry of pleasure.

Feeling confident with yourself, you push yourself forward until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

He helps you as you pull away from him, looking down at you with his flushed face. He studies your face, eyes shadowed with lust, making his heart do somersaults. He wipes the tears on your face before saying, “Breathe through your nose, okay?” He watches you nod and chuckles when you go back for his cock, taking him deep at a slow pace and staying there for a second before pulling slightly away. “That’s my good girl…” He moans as you continue to take him, teasing his tip with your tongue when he suddenly pulls you away from him.

“Did I—” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against your lips and pushing you until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you. “You did great. I just want my cum somewhere else…” He catches your lips when you bite on them, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

He pulls away, guiding your body until he’s kneeling between your thighs, one hand on his cock while the other is on your thigh. “Is this okay?” He asks when he places the tip of his cock on your slit.

You gingerly nod, whimpering when he slides his cock on your sensitive clit. “P-please…” You have no idea what you’re begging for but he seems to know what he’s doing.

“Do you trust me, little girl?” Steve asks, looking at your face with hopeful eyes.

“Yes, Stevie. I trust you.” Steve’s heart warms up at how fast you answered his question. He nods before sliding a few more teasing thrusts into your folds and clit before slowly sliding his tip into your slit. He stops to look at your face that’s contorted into a frown. He leans down your face to kiss your frown away and kisses your lips as well, hoping to distract you from the pain.

Steve pushes his cock deeper when he feels you relax under him. He pushes slowly and stops when he’s fully in, groaning when your walls hug his member tightly. “Fuck!” He hisses before looking at you. “You okay?” He asks, smiling when you nod at him, eyes closed. He kisses your lips before pulling halfway and thrusting into you once more, earning a little whimper from you.

“How are you feeling, baby?” You try to ignore the nickname, opening your eyes and looking straight at his eyes. “G-good. Please move, Stevie.” You press your palms against his chest. He pulls halfway out before shoving himself inside you again, repeating this action until you’re moaning loudly under him and clutching his biceps for support.

Steve feels your walls fluttering around him, alarming him that you’re close. He knows he’s close as well so he helps you reach your peak by rubbing your clit with his fingers, groaning at how your walls tighten around him.

Steve listens to your cries of pleasure as your walls clamp down on his cock as you cum, making him cum as well and milking him. Your body shakes under him and both of you breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. He falls to your side, his arms enveloping around you to pull you against his chest into a warm and strong embrace.

“It’s official. We just consummated our marriage... I’m all yours just as much as you’re all mine.” He stares at your face, watching your eyes as you fight yourself from falling asleep.

“I fucking love you, little girl.” He lazily says, brushing your face with his fingers. You stare at him sleepily, listening to the beat of his heart.

“The fuck is he doing?” Your father grumbles as he watches Steve prance around the kitchen.

“He’s making our daughter breakfast. I think our daughter broke him.” Your mother snickers at the way your father looks at Steve in disbelief.

“You tellin’ me that he touched Y/N?!” Your father fumes, getting ready to walk up to the man in the kitchen before your mother stops him.

“Oh, hunny. Would you stop that? They’re married. And Y/N is an adult. They both are. They can do anything they want. And I can see that Steve really loves our daughter. The way he acted after Y/N got shot. Not to mention the part where he literally saved our asses. Your ass.” Your mother berates your father who just huffs in response before leaving. Your mother chuckles before following her husband, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

“You made cookies without me?” Steve’s heart flutters as you pout at him. “I want to make cookies too…” You mumble under your breath. You just woke up from your sleep when Steve entered the room with a plate full of cookies.

“I didn’t want you getting into any accidents, little girl.” Steve chuckles when you take one cookie before grumpily munching on it. He watches as your eyes light up before covering it up with a frown. “Will you stop calling me little girl?”

“Never.” He simply says. You huff and Steve couldn’t help but to chuckle at your cuteness.

“Your cookies aren't even that good. I make better cookies.” You mumble before taking another cookie from the plate and munching on it. Steve raises an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “I know you do, little girl. I know you do.” He smiles at you before making a move to sit beside you.

“No! Wait! Stay there.” You point a finger at him before fumbling around the sheets as if looking for something.

“You okay?” Steve asks, eyes shooting open when you jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, only the sheets covering your body. You realize this and quickly pull on the hoodie from last night before looking back at Steve with a grin.

“Hi,” You start, earning a confused look from Steve. “Hello?” He chuckles when you look at him with so much excitement that you’re literally bouncing on your toes.

“I want to give you something.”

“What is it?” Steve watches your fist as you hold it against his face before opening it, revealing a gold ring that looks to be vintage or a hundred years old.

“Where’d that come from, little girl?” Steve whispers.

“Can I put it on you? Will you marry me too?” You ignore his question, too excited to listen to anything. Steve laughs before nodding, watching you with adoration as you giddily put the ring on him.

“There! So pretty! You’re so pretty, Stevie!” You continue to admire the ring on his finger when he takes your chin with said hand, making you look up at him.

“Thank you, little girl.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips before pulling away with a smile.

“My father gave it to me.” You blurt out, making Steve’s eye widen just a bit.

“Your father?” He asks, not sure about what’s happening.

“Yes. He came here earlier. Told me that you deserve the ring and that you should never make him regret anything?” Steve listens to you, you obviously don’t know what your father did but it’s enough for Steve to understand.

“Oh… And Stevie?” He looks at you, smiling and asking you if you need something.

“I love you too.” You grin at him.

Steve stares at you for a moment before feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

He makes a quick move towards you, pulling you in a tight embrace and pampering your face with kisses.

“I love you, little girl. Thank you for saying it back.” He mumbles against your hair before pressing a kiss on your lips once more.

“Stop calling me little girl!” You grumble against him.

He only chuckles at you before shaking his head. “No. You’ll always be my little girl.”

----

a/n: omfg if you finished all that, congratulations you just wasted a whole lot of ur time but thanks for wasting it on me 3;-)

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #mob!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers oneshot #au #mobster au #Steve Rogers

2K notes · View notes

imthepunchlord · 3 years

Note

Do you have any thoughts on how the guardian role is handled lore wise? Would you change much about being the guardian?

Oh yes I do and there's so much that I would change up.

The more we see of the Guardians, the dumber they are and the more pointless they are. To a point it's a wonder if they were worth the inclusion as they don't amount to much and are just useless. I'm putting this undercut as I just go off.

- Lore wise, they set it up that adults are naturally more powerful, so why did Fu pick two kids to fight his battles for him? Why not adults? Why did he leave them on their own instead of offering them some means to have an edge over HM?

- Of the Ladybug and Cat, we have yet to see anything unique that the Cat brings to these fights that the other 15 miraculi that Fu has with him couldn't do. You need a distraction that's going to mess up the akuma? Monkey and Fox. You need a protector/aggressor? Bee, Turtle, or Dragon. Ladybug is a must as its the only cleanser so far and has ML to boot, but Cat doesn't need to be out there, and as soon as HM had quite publicly stated that he wants LB and Cat, Fu should've reclaimed the Cat immediately to secure its safety and that HM won't get both. Another or two could go out to replace it.

- Why was picking Adrien a good idea? If Fu had just arrived in Paris, ok, but Backwarder reveals he's been living in Paris for a while. And with that, he's seen Adrien's face everywhere.s Adrien is potentially the most well known kid in Pari. Technically, for Fu's want of secrecy, why pick the most iconic face in Paris to get a miraculous? That sets up one of your heroes to always have attention on him. Fu picking Adrien doesn't make any logical sense.

- Why is Fu ok with endangering one kid but not the other? Why does Marinette get a test set up that risks her life and Fu's if it hadn't gone well and Adrien just helps an old man up, a common decency that most would do. It's like two extreme differences that don't work well in comparison as Marinette gets the risky test and Adrien it looks like he got his miraculous on a silver platter as he got the far easier one that takes the least effort to be a decent human being.

- Fu being a terrible mentor and hero picker in general and the whole shebang with Syren. If Adrien is not meeting his standards or if he doesn't trust Adrien at all, why is Adrien being allowed to continue as a hero? Or if he really wants Adrien to stay, why isn't he doing anything about Adrien? Why isn't he telling Plagg to encourage Adrien to step up and get serious? If he can take on the role of being Adrien's Chinese teacher, why not do that to try and guide Adrien to improvement so he can also be trusted with Guardian secrets too and truly help Marinette out. He's got two options when he doesn't trust Adrien or finds that he's meeting his standards: he takes the miraculous back or he addresses this issue himself.

- I also call big BS about him not doing anything at all when he comes upon Adrien detransformed on the roof with Plagg. Cause he's risking himself going out to find Chat Noir only to find him detransformed. That realistically should raise some brows and concern him. Adrien at least should've gotten a lecture or warning.

- Also the reveal that kwamis aren't allowed to know about their own power. that to me is off putting. It really stresses that kwamis are beneath them, these very ancient and powerful beings that have probably seen a lot. And canon validates it by making them children (which to me is the writers being lazy so they don't have to do complex characters).

- The whole thing with Fu's backstory. Dumbest backstory I've ever heard and it just paints Guardians in a really bad light, and by extension, real life monks. Monks didn't go to people's homes to take children. If they did take kids with them, those kids had nowhere else to go and offered them a place to stay until old enough to be on their own. And that test, omg, wtf. Ok, I can get the idea of a test of temptation, but there are other ways to perform it without starving a kid. Especially leaving said kid alone unsupervised with 19 powerful miraculi two of which have wish granting abilities. How would the Guardians even know if Fu used a miraculous as they left him alone with mriaculi. If Fu wanted to, he could've made a wish to never be picked.

- Fu didn't even do shit when he finally had a chance to face off against HM. He just sat in his damb ball and allowed himself to get knocked around. At least try and roll over him! Be a ping-pong ball! DO SOMETHING. Like, why did you even pick Turtle??? Turtle wasn't able to do anything against Butterfly! I thought it could as Fu had been ready to go in Origins, plus the 5 are based off Wu Xing, by set up, Fox and Turtle should have some sort of an edge over the Butterfly. But I guess that means there could be other options aside form LB and we can't have that, Marinette's miraculous needs to be the only thing to take on the Butterfly to really stress on the fact that it comes down to only her.

- The memory wipe thing that's an apparently must when you retire from being the Guardian. Honestly I think that should've been saved as a last resort if you're ever captured and could be forced to leak info, not when you retire. Doing so removes a valid source of advisement that a new Guardian can rely on. History is there to learn from it and this tradition removes a source of history to learn from, either from having guidance or seeing what the old did and how you want to change things. This also makes me concerned as I see Adrien taking advantage of an amnesiac Marinette.

- I went off about the NY Special revealing there's more Orders here.

- And lastly, Su-Han, the other Guardian to see aside from Fu. And with him, it solidifies how stupid they all are. When the Butterfly is being misused in Paris, why is someone aggressive and judgmental coming to Paris? Why is this guy even working with kids when he doesn't like kids? And the reveal that Guardians don't use miraculi at all. That just makes that test all the dumber with testers being unsupervised. And for Guardians not meant to use miraculi, how come Marinette gets a nice perk as LB that she can pull a miraculous out of her yo-yo? They're probably playing that she's "the first" to do so but realistically, I'm pressing x to doubt. In the long history of miraculi and when Guardians were around, you expect me to believe that Guardians never used miraculi themselves? What if there was no one to turn to, do they just the disaster happen? ...Well, based on how terrible canon is setting them up, I wouldn't be surprised.

SO.

There is a lot I would change up about the Guardians and for this, I'll adjust canon.

- Adrien gets the ring another way, maybe a gift from his mom or aunt or grandparents. Realistically, there's no logical reason for Fu to pick Adrien. He just has too much attention on him and Chat being an unexpected miraculous user can make him wary, adding to him only trusting Marinette.

- I'd have Fu be more present in Marinette's life, a customer who comes in a lot. This way he can offer advise when needed but not take away from Tikki. And this has him more closely keeping an eye on things.

- I'd change up Fu's backstory. He got separated from his family in a flood, the previous Turtle saved him, tried to help him find his family and with no luck, took him to the Temple, but only the section where other orphans are where they work to help take care of it, oblivious to the miraculous near them. After a year, Fu is one of the few selected to be entrusted with miraculous knowledge. He's surprised but not all that for it as he'd rather go find his family still. Idk how Temple falls but its not that. That was just dumb and avoidable.

- I wouldn't have Adrien meet Fu at all. In truth, it actually could've been cut out entirely as Adrien meeting Fu didn't amount to anything. He doesn't help with Guardian duties, doesn't help pick heroes, hasn't stepped up at all in his role as a partner. And he's not as torn up about Fu's loss as Marinette is. Adrien meeting Fu was pointless in the grand scheme of things. Nothing was progressed or changed from Adrien meeting Fu.

- I'd have HM ONLY getting an edge on Fu because Mayura was there to help him, catching Fu off guard. I want to see the Turtle truly in action, to see what else it can do cause sitting there to be smacked around was just unimpressive. And if Asstruck even did as much research as he could, he'd know that in Chinese mythology, the Turtle is a boss. It's the keeper of history and symbol of immortality, and it's up there with Tiger as an animal that can go toe to toe with the Dragon. And of the Four Symbols (associated with 4 seasons), the Black Turtle is also known as the Black Warrior. There should've been a lot more to Turtle than just sitting in your shell and allowing yourself to be knocked around.

- Su-Han I'd drastically change up. I'd keep in him being critical and stern, but he approaches things smartly and patiently. Before he dives into aggression and accusations, he wants to know what's going on. Why does this 14 yo have the Miracle Box? How was the Butterfly obtained and misused? And what the hell is going on??? How are these people so small and how did they get into this thin glass box?? Computer? What's a computer??? Essentially, have fun with the fact that Su-Han is essentially a time traveler and one great bonding experience to have with Marinette while also offering some good comedy is him learning about the modern time and her acting as his guide. Su-Han can give her guidance that Fu hadn't been able to give, and Marinette can offer her own in a way that Su-Han will need. Which by extension could remove Marinette having a near mental breaking point and revealing herself to Alya, and could avoid some of that drama of what's coming.

- Speaking of which, Adrien. I'd use Su-Han to finally address the issues with Adrien as a hero and partner. Su-Han prioritized Marinette as she has the Miracle Box, but Adrien is someone he'd take the miraculous away from. Adrien would get a very clear warning and call out for his actions and role.

#ask Punchie #long post #Adrien salt #Fu salt #Guardian salt

96 notes · View notes

hopeless-ro-simptic · 3 years

Text

The Artist and The Dancer -Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab

This is my submission for @pleasantanathema ‘s 10k followers collab! Please see the masterlist here and give the rest of the creators some serious love! We’ve all worked hard on this and are so proud of @pleasantanathema for making it to 10k!

Aged up! Edgar Degas inspired Shinso Hitoshi X Female reader

Word Count: Just under 10k!

Warnings: NSFW, vaginal fingering, not safe sex, not super historically accurate, they fuck in a bathtub, references to loss of sight and repeated mentioned ankle injuries, angst, fluff, quirk use in a sexual manner, kind of body worshiping, praise. IDK how to tag stuff for warnings. It’s pretty tame.

Quick background before we start: Degas is a well known impressionist painter from the 1800s, he’s super well known for paintings to do with ballerina’s, women bathing, and horse races. He also has a degenerative eye disease that I referenced as well. In this little...long? fic of mine, quirks are still a thing but heroes not so much. Shinso’s quirk is only mentioned twice, but reader has a quirk that allows her to make music from her body when she dances. This can be read as any body type/description of reader but it is mentioned that she is a ballet dancer, has some sort of hair to grab onto, and someone out there can lift her up. Also I tried to put breaks where sometime has either passed or we’ve gone back in time, and I tried to make it clear but hopefully it makes sense. We’ve got quite the backflash going on.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smack. Smack. Smack.

The telltale signs of a new pair of point shoes. No other sounds in the room other than those of ballet flats scuffing the floor, the bending and breaking of their fresh soles, and of tull swishing about with the movements.

Shinso truly loved these sounds, his eyes flickering from the blank canvas he set up in front of him over to the ballerina sitting in the middle of the floor, a frown tugging at your lips as you bend the new shoes in half, flexing them back and forth before smacking them harshly against the floor again.

No words were spoken as the two prepared, Shinso setting up his brushes and paint, getting comfortable on the rickety stool under him, the you finally deciding your shoes were to your satisfaction before you pulled them on, expertly tying the ribbons that you had painstakingly sewed on, before you started in on your stretches.

The light from the large windows that were set into the sloping ceilings of the attic gave the two plenty of natural lighting. Dust particles swirling in the air capturing Shinso’s attention as he shifted his lazy glance away from the stretching ballerina, picking up his paintbrush and getting to work on filling in the background of his canvas. His eyes flicking around the room and back to his canvas taking everything in at once.

There was a soft huff coming from the you that drug Shinso’s eyes over to your form, watching as you pushed yourself off on the floor before you stepped into first position, your eyes staring at the floor before shaking your head and switching to what Shinso had heard you refer to as fourth position, your eyes hovering just above his head for the briefest of moment before you dropped into your dance.

Music flowed through the room as you moved, entrancing the painter for several moments as the music lived and breathed in your movements. Dipping when you dipped, lifting as you jumped, swirling around the space like the perfect partner. The string instruments that lived just under the your skin, filled the space with melodic tunes sounding like a live symphony was playing in the small attic that just held the two of you.

Shinso watched the dancer with awe for several moments before he forced himself to look away, picking up his paintbrush again, grabbing paint and smearing it across the canvas, letting the music flow in him and dictate his brush strokes as he captured the ballerina in front of him. He worked as you danced, his paint brush dancing along the canvas to your melody, filling in the empty spaces with a thick layer of paint, his eyes barely looking at his work as they trailed your steps across the creaking wooden floor, enchanted with your movements, with the way that your skin shimmered with sweat, how the tutu resembled flower petals reminding him of a fantasy creature that was too beautiful for the real world.

The discordant sounds of strings snapping melted into silence as you thudded to the ground with a curse had Shinso jumping from his chair, knocking his paint over onto the floor in the process. You were bent over yourself in the fetal position, clutching your ankle that was already swelling, the skin bruising as the moments ticked by. Shinso crouched down by you, hands hovering above you before they finally rested on your shaking shoulders, the sight of tears dripping onto the wood underneath you had his stomach clenching.

“Are you okay?” He had barely whispered the words when you snapped your head up, slapping his hand away, anger clear on your face as you glared at him a hiss on your tongue.

“I’m fine, don’t touch me.”

He sat back on his haunches, watching with concern as you struggled to get your breathing under control, sitting up, adjusting the ribbons on your shoes before you forced yourself into a shaking standing position, hesitating to put weight on your foot as you looked down at him.

“Well are you just going to sit there? Go back to painting.” Your eyes were harsh, your words like a whip that stung Shinso’s cheek as he looked up at you from his position, a frown settling on his lips as he pushed himself off of the floor backing away from you, his eyes shifting down to your swelling ankle. Annoyance at you burning on his tongue. Still he understood how important this was to you. How dancing was the reason you breathed, just as his art was his.

He couldn’t ignore the thoughts in his brain though as you stepped back into your dance, music swirling around you for several seconds, the notes sounding shaky and pitched only for you to drop back down to your hands and knees again when your foot couldn’t support your weight, the music ending harshly.

Shinso hesitated by your side, hovering as he watched you slam your fists into the wooded floor below, a scream of frustration echoing through the small attic as you crumpled onto yourself, shaking with the force of the sobs leaving your lips, the movement activating a soft hum from your quirk. It wasn’t until your fists grew bloody and you sat up with fevor, reaching for your ankle and yanking at the laces angrily did he finally step in.

“Stop… stop… Y/n I said stop!” Your eyes glazed over momentarily, your movements halting as the tired artist activated his own quirk, crouching in front of you, his grips on your wrist tight as he regarded you tensely before releasing his quirk, your shoulders slumping slightly.

“Y/n…”

“Leave me alone, please, it’s not worth it.” Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to quiet your sobs but failed, hiding your face into your palms ignoring the sting from where your knuckles were split.

“What are you talking about… y/n –“ His words were cut off as she weakly lashed out at him again with her own, her voice cracking as she cried.

“This is my third repeated injury in a year. I can’t dance anymore Hitoshi, I can’t – They replace dancer’s for less. You should just find a different muse, there are plenty of dancers at the theater, they already replaced my role for-.”

His grip on your wrists grew tighter as he pulled them away from your face, peering into your eyes as he did so, frustration so clear in his eyes as he regarded you.

“My muse, what are you even talking about? I will never replace you. You think I paint you because you are a dancer? I paint dancers because they remind me of you. Just the same as the horse races I paint because you love them so much.”

“But I can’t- my stupid ankle- I’m usele-“

“You are not useless! So what things aren’t turning out exactly how you want it to! You can still do this! You just need to-“

“To what? To what Hitoshi! What am I supposed to do if I can’t dance! What am I supposed to live for!”

“Me! Live for me.” His own voice cracked in frustration, and you could see his eyes becoming glossy as they shifted around your face.

“Hitoshi… I-“

His lips were on yours before you could finish your statement, a squeak of surprise leaving your lips as you tensed in his grasp, only for him to pull away before you could react. His grip on your wrists loosening until he dropped them altogether, eyes focused on a chip in the wooden floor between the two of you as you gaped at him, your mind screaming at you to say something, to do something, anything to change the look of torture on his tired face.

“I’ll draw you a bath.”

And he was gone. It wasn’t for several seconds that you finally noticed the tape he had placed into your lap for your ankle, but the pain in your ankle had long been forgotten your eyes latched onto the stairs descending into the rest of the artist’s house.

Your fingers wandered along the clouds of bubbles, your mind lost in thought as you sunk lower into the warm water, your injured ankle resting gingerly on a towel on the edge of the bath. By the time that you had finished wrapping your ankle and had made your way down the stairs to the bathroom, Hitoshi was already gone, a note hastily scrawled out and left on the chair next to the bath.

He had gone out.

Short, simple, practically no explanation for his disappearance.

It was his brevity that had you clenching your teeth over and over, your mood shifting from frustration to confusion to something else that you tried to ignore as you thought back to how this all started.

You had been working with the artist for almost two and a half years now, after having met him at the theatre. You had been in the corps at the time but was quickly becoming a favorite of the director, Aizawa Shota. To the point that when he had allowed the young artist to watch a rehearsal at his request, to study the movement of the human body as he had explained, he had pulled you aside and introduced you to the purple haired man as one of the options for the Prima for the next show. You had been elated at the time, noting the slight up tweak of the director’s usual frown as you tried to keep your own smile from splitting your cheeks open.

Aizawa had suggested that you work through your practice routine, allowing Shinsou to watch and sketch away on the sidelines, as long as he didn’t distract you. You prided yourself on your ability to focus and block out everything when you worked, but you couldn’t help but notice the way the young artists face shifted into amazement when music started to flow out from your movements, no instrument in sight. The way that he had all but dropped his pencil out of his hand, his eyes glued to your every movement, his previously bored face suddenly filled with complete enchantment.

At some point in your practice, he had finally picked his pencil up and ended up with over half of his sketchbook filled with renderings of you. You had asked to see his drawings when you had finished, and this time the artist got to see the way your own face lit up at seeing his work, constantly drifting back to one sketch in particular where you had been suspended in mid-jump, the way he had captured you made it truly look like you were flying.

It wasn’t until you had gotten back home late that night and unpacked your bag that you noticed at some point before the artist had left, he had slipped the drawing in your bag with a note attached stating that he would love nothing more than to capture more of his ‘muse’.

He had visited the theatre almost every day after that, Aizawa allowing the artist to watch from the sidelines, some form of art medium in his hands at all times, as long as he didn’t interrupt.

Several of the other performers at first had flocked to him with high pitched giggling as they asked him to paint them, or offering to preform for him themselves, but the artist practically ignored them all, acting like they weren’t there until Aizawa would step in and the girls would scatter in fear of being reprimanded or worse. At first you had wondered if Aizawa would get annoyed and ask the artist to leave, clearly it was affecting the others, but then you wondered if the dark haired director had a soft spot for the young man, spending a lot of his time around the him, and even cracking a few smiles at things that he had said. You swore that hell had froze over when you had heard the deep chuckle that was Aizawa Shota’s laugh for the first time.

When you had found out that the artist was the director’s nephew, you weren’t at all surprised, the similarities too obvious to not notice.

Days had turned into months, and it was no longer shocking to see dark lavender hair waiting in the wings, the others growing used to him as well and treating him as practically nothing more than a stage prop. The two of you didn’t speak much, if at all some days, conversations for the most part only pertaining to mutual admiration for each other’s work. But somedays the conversations would linger longer, questions of other interests such as food, music, and even sports coming in to play. That was when you had told him of your love of horse racing, how your aunt had owned horses that were famous for their champion bloodlines and how you had always enjoyed dressing up to go to the races, flouncy hat included.

Hitoshi had told you that he had never been to the races, and while you had been fake appalled and teased him mercilessly the rest of the day about it, you had assumed that would have been the end of the conversation, that much like you the artist would completely remove it from his mind and move on with the rest of his life outside of work. It wasn’t until the following Monday when he had waved you over to show you his sketchbook filled with drawings of horses and jockeys that you realized the artist in front of you had actually been interested in what you had been saying. The feelings stirring in your stomach at that realization had been… kind of nice.

Not even a week after that was the first incident. True to his word Aizawa had chosen you and one other girl to work on the Prima roll for the next ballet they would be preforming. You both would be learning the part, and he would decide along the way which one of you he wanted to go with, the other would be placed back into the corps. You had barely been on time that day, skirting into the wings of the stage and dropping down into hasty stretches, Aizawa shooting you an icy glare at interrupting his instructions he had been giving the group, that had melted a little at the end as you shoot him an apologetic one back. You never were late, and he could show mercy… occasionally.

Minutes later you were on the stage, running through the first number, allowing the orchestra to take their time setting up as your quirk worked it’s magic, the music flowing through the air as you ran through the movements with practiced ease. You knew your steps like the back of your hand, knew the timing of the music like it was your own heartbeat. You knew that the next step, your partner would be stepping up behind you, lifting you up into a jump and gracefully bringing you back to the ground to move into the next series of foot work that ended in a pirouette.

But the pirouette never came, instead the sound of strings snapping, and shrill notes filled the air covering the sound of a body hitting the ground. The series of gasps and whispers sounded quiet in your ear compared to the sound of your own heartbeat, matching the throbbing in your foot. You could feel the tears springing to your eyes, refusing to open them even as shadows fell onto your form. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand grip your shoulder gently coaxing you over did you finally force yourself to look up into the dark eyes of the director, his brow furrowed as he examined your foot along with one of the trainers that helped take care of the dancers. You could barely hold back a scream as they guided you to move your foot, your vision blurring as the two shared a look between them that only made your insides churn.

Before they had wheeled you off to the local doctor, you had caught sight of lavender hair, a grim look on his face, his eyes never leaving yours.

You were beside yourself, wallowing really. A sprained ankle. A sprained ankle had you locked up in your small apartment, staring off into space trying to think of anything to distract yourself from what you really wanted. Aizawa refused to let you even step foot inside the theater until you were signed off on by a doctor. Insisting that you stay home and rest. Heal up. Get strong again so that you could come back and work. Because he expected your recovery to be swift. That’s what he told you. That he expected this to just be a minor setback and that you would be back in time to still vie for that Prima position you so badly wanted. That if you really wanted to be Prima, you needed to take care of yourself now so you could work later.

But you had seen the looks, heard the whispers of the others. A sprained ankle… for most would be a temporary setback, but for a ballerina it could be career ending.

Still, you forced yourself to look on the bright side, to focus on Aizawa’s words, to force yourself to remain in bed with the ice pack on your ankle even as you felt so antsy that sitting still one more minute might actually drive you mad. You can’t say you weren’t beyond excited when there was the softest knock at your door that had you immediately perking up.

“Come in, it’s unlocked.” You had had a few friends from the theater and otherwise come to visit, and while it was frustrating to listen over and over about how they wanted you to get better soon, it was still nice to have some sort of company.

But you hadn’t expected that a mop of lavender hair would peak its way through the door, a sheepish look on his face as he took in the room, eyes settling nervously on you.

“Shinsou… I wasn’t expecting you to visit.”

He stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him slightly probably as to affirm to your oh so nosey roommate that nothing scandalous was happening. He pulled a set of flowers from behind his back, clearing his throat as he looked around the room for a place to set them.

“I uh… brought you these, but I see that I wasn’t very creative with my get well present.” You glanced around the room, taking in the dozens of bouquets that were scattered across every possible surface. He’s not wrong. Flowers weren’t exactly the most unique, but still you felt something stir inside at the thought of the moody artist picking flowers out at a stand. You didn’t fight the smile spilling onto your lips as you regarded him.

“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you for your lack of creativity today.”

He chuckled softly at that, looking at the floor and studying the wood grain, his eyes not meeting yours a smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank goodness for that, I think I’d be beside myself if my muse didn’t forgive me.”

His muse. The thought repeated like a mantra in your head for the next several weeks, somehow giving more reassurance and comfort than anything anyone else had told you over the course of your healing process. The artist had come by a couple more times since then, bringing sketchbooks filled with drawings and paintings of racehorses and a couple of the ballerinas at the theatre, asking questions about different poses that he had captured the ballerina’s in, wanting to know the technical terms and just talking to you about random daily life.

Before you knew it you were getting signed off by the doctor, a smile on their face as they let you know that you healed up wonderfully but still to take it slow and make sure to stretch your ankles properly before and after dancing.

Then everything went back to almost normal. You were back at the theater six days a week, though they had you slowly getting back used to the dance routines, refusing to let you do any jumps for the first several weeks until you were cleared again by the doctor at your follow up. One thing was different though.

Shinso came to the theatre less and less, and when he did he was growing more and more moody and frustrated. More noticeable still was the way that his art started to change, the way that he was less focused on making a clear and crisp rendition, the subjects growing blurrier and with abstract brushstrokes. Colors no longer having defined areas and being used to blend across the entire canvas in ways that you hadn’t seen before.

The young artist was also growing in popularity as well, though that didn’t mean he was any more friendly than before. In fact, you had seen him turn down many a parties and dates with a level of tact that was more than lacking.

At first it was just towards other people, the few straggler dancers that still vied for his attention, people that would get in his way when he was walking, random people that annoyed him at the racetracks when he would join you to watch the horses because they were breathing wrong.

Then he started to grow colder towards you. At first you thought he was just having a bad day, trying not to let it affect your own mood. But one bad day turned into two, then three, and the next thing you knew, you barely could be around the hostile artist without feeling like you were going to blow up yourself.

It was a particularly bad day. You had been avoiding Shinso all day, refusing to talk to him and trying desperately to focus on your role for the upcoming decision date that Aizawa had set. But with how loud the artist was growing with his yelling it was hard for even you to ignore. Even more so when someone brought to your attention that the argument was with none other than director Aizawa himself.

Still, you forced yourself to dance harder, to make your music louder and to block out the artists shouts. You blocked everything out as you dipped down, the music following the flow of movement from your body as you moved into a succession of spins and leaps. You were halfway through your routine, your solo, feeling good about the way your movements flowed across the stage, the music in the air sounding light and airy. Like you were flying.

But with the sudden slam of a door flying open and into the wall, the shouting of the young artist grew significantly louder breaking into your bubble of solitude making you fall out of your third spin, silence growing heavy as your music died down and you turned to watch the angry man storm through the theater space.

“Hitoshi, come back here and let’s talk about this rationally.”

“No, I’m done! I’m done! It’s useless! I’m useless! Everything in this world is fucking useless!”

“Hitoshi-“

“No, fuck you! Fuck you, fuck this place, and fuck -… fuck this.”

You watched in a mixture of shock and dread as Shinsou tore apart his sketch book, flinging pages into the air, yanking his portable paint pallet out of his bag and snapping it in half tossing it across the room and into the wall, paint splattering everywhere as pieces of the pallet shattered off in different directions. Shinsou tore his bag off of his body, the strap snapping as he did so, throwing it to the floor before turning and leaving the theater with a slam of the door.

The silence that followed was uneasy. Only broken by the whispers of the crew members and some of the dancers. You turned to Aizawa who was running his fingers through his hair, a look of distraught on his face as he kneeled down and started to pick up some of the scattered drawings littering the floor, his voice rough as he spoke.

“Rehearsal is over for today. Go home and get rest. I want everyone back here early tomorrow.”

You looked around watching as everyone collected their things, chattering quietly and sending glances back to the director and you as they left the theater. You felt frozen in your spot until you noticed a drawing near your feet, a drawing of you.

Bending down to pick it up you examined it, a frown pulling at your lips as you realized it was a quick sketch of you. Messy, compared to his usual work, but it mostly focused on your face. If you didn’t look for specific details it looked like you were laughing, holding onto what looked like it could have been a hat that you wore to the racetrack weeks ago, the wind blowing your hair in your face. The only thing that was actually clear in the drawing was your smile, the attention to detail in the way your lips quirked up had you pausing. It was different than the rest of the drawing, all focus being pulled to the one point, whereas the rest seemed almost blurry, vague.

“He drew it from memory.” Aizawa’s voice had you jumping, looking up at the director, a blush creeping onto your face at your reaction. You had completely forgotten he was there, but the director didn’t seem to notice as he lightly tapped the drawing in your hands, his face pulled into a sad frown as he regarded it.

“Is that why it’s so blurry?” You took a deep breath, handing the director the drawing to allow you to start your cool down stretches. He didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to lock the theater up, nor did it seem he minded you staying for company. The last thing you wanted to do was cause another injury because you weren’t taking care of yourself after practicing so hard.

But the director just gave you an odd look, a crease appearing between his brows.

“… would you mind doing me a favor when you leave here? I have some things to take care of here and I’m afraid it will be much too late by the time I’m done.”

“Yea of course,” You tilted your head giving him a look of confusion.

An hour later you were standing here, staring up at the house in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety creeping in as looked back down at the note in your hand, shifting the full and heavy bag on your shoulder. While you didn’t mind helping out the director, this wasn’t exactly something you wanted to deal with right now. But you agreed. So with a heavy sigh you rapped your knuckle against the wooden door three times, waiting, silently chewing your lip for a response.

“I told you to fuck off- oh… y/n?” He was squinting at you for a moment his frown turning to look of confusion, peaking his head out of his door and looking around the street for something.

“Aizawa asked me to bring this back to you.” You stood tall, pulling on the inner ballerina and forcing a face of bravery, ignoring the fluttering feeling settling in your stomach. This was the first time at his place, and the sight in front of you had you fighting to keep the blush out of your cheeks, a fight you were sure you were failing.

He looked absolutely wrecked. His coat was long gone. His usually crisp button up was opened, hanging loosely off of his frame, untucked from his pants. His belt already undone, shoes missing. Not to mention his regular ruffled and messed up hair was sticking out at odd angels and looked more bedhead like than normal.

Sure, you had seen the tired artist show up at the theater and even your home when you were out with the injury a few times looking a little sleepy and rumpled, the sight always making it hard to keep your eyes off of him, but this… this was a whole other level. He was gorgeous.

His eyes hovered on your face for a moment, only making your cheeks redder, but if he noticed he didn’t say anything, his usual snarking teasing gone as his eyes shifted down to the large bag on your shoulder his expression turning sour as he reached out and took it from you.

“You really didn’t have to… should have just thrown it all away. Or use it for kindling.”

“Don’t say that.” Your voice came out harsher than you expected, and you immediately caught yourself, biting you lip and hoping you didn’t piss the moody artist off even more. You did not want to argue right now.

“It’s true. It’s all junk-“ He tossed the satchel onto something inside the house, maybe a table or a chair, or probably just the floor given his attitude.

“I think it all looks beautiful.” You stated like it was a matter of fact.

His eyes looked up back towards your own, shifting around your face several times as he spoke his next question, squinting ever so slightly like he was having a hard time deciding what to focus on. You couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

“Do… do you want to come in? I want to show you something… I know you don’t have a chaperon-“ He brought his hand up to scratch at his neck, looking back into his house as he spoke.

“Yes!” You flinched at how quickly and desperate that sounded, but the words were already out, and it was worth it when the artist in front of you let out a soft chuckle, giving you a slightly bewildered look before stepping back and allowing you in.

If your mother knew what you were doing right now, going into a man’s house, a single man’s house without a chaperone, she’d faint right there from shame. But you choose not to think about that as you stepped in, the door closing softly behind you as Shinso guided you through his home.

His home that was littered with art. Every surface, every wall, everything was covered with canvases and sketch paper. The floor even had some strewn along it, like it fell off the over piled surfaces and he never bothered to pick it up. Some of it you even recognized from seeing it before. Drawings upon drawings of horses and ballerina’s and even several portraits all along the place, some barely started, some halfway done, and so many that looked completed.

You saw oil paintings, gouache, charcoal sketches, even some wax figures. There were pieces of pastel chalks all over the place, paint brushes in water jars and coffee mugs, sketch pads everywhere you looked. What you easily counted as at least four different easels.

You felt like you were in heaven, your eyes skirting all throughout the room, taking in anything and everything. You felt like you were stepping into the mind of the artist in front of you, and you couldn’t help but gape in awe. But the artist didn’t stop, gesturing you to follow him as he walked back through his hallway, skipping straight past a set of stairs that led to what you assumed was the attic with the large windows that you could see from outside. Instead, he walked directly back to the house, opening a door, and letting you step inside. Leaning against the door frame, he nodded to the easel in the center of the room.

You felt giddy, a smile on your face as you skipped over to the easel, beyond excited to see what the artist was working on. You looked back towards him once more, to which he only solemnly nodded in response, making your expression drop slightly.

“Go ahead, I want your opinion on it.”

You just wanted him to smile and were tempted on making a snarky comment that would get at least some sort of response from him, even it didn’t last for more than a second. Instead, you turned back to the easel, gingerly lifting up the sheet that was covering it until it unearthed what was underneath, the sheet slipping to the floor as you stepped back, taking in what was in front of you.

You were silent for a long moment as you took it in. It was clearly a painting of a ballerina, as so much of his work was, but this painting, was by far the most abstract that you had seen. The colors all blended together, none of the shapes having a specific outline, the ballerina not even having a face, just blotches of color where you assumed the shadows somewhat outlined vague features.

But for some reason, it was the most beautiful work that you think you had seen. The way that everything blended seemed to invoke a feeling in your that you just couldn’t pinpoint to one emotion.

The ballerina could have been anyone, and the lack of facial expression and the fact that the only thing that was clear was that she was wearing a tutu reminded you of how it felt to be invisible back in your days in the corps. How you were just another background dancer. Mediocre in the sea of talent. So easy to blend into the background and be forgotten.

But looking further into it she was gorgeous. Her pose was clearly one of a graceful jump, frozen in time, she looked like she was flying, the tutu making her look like a bird, the way her limbs extended and pointed just perfectly. She looked ethereal, like she wasn’t of this earth. She looked… free.

“Well damn. I didn’t think it was that bad.”

You startled, looking over to the painter who had the weakest of teasing smiles on his lips, like he was trying to make a joke but wasn’t sure if it was actually a joke or not. That’s when you felt the cool air stinging your cheeks where your tears had wet them. Reaching up you brushed your tears away a soft laugh leaving your lips as you looked back to the painting in front of you sniffling softly.

“It’s… I don’t even have a word for it.”

“Ugly, horrific, putrid? Maybe vomit inducing? That’s the same isn’t it?” You shook your head, pushing the artist’s shoulder softly as he came to stand by you, crossing his arms, as he regarded the painting seeming to search for a word to properly describe.

“Magnificent.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, his lifts quirking up into a smile slightly as his eyes shifted around your face again, trying to memorize your features. You smiled back, his eyes focusing on your lips for a moment before his own frowned and he let out a sigh looking back towards the picture and taking a step towards it as if to see it better.

“I’m going blind.”

You froze for a moment, staring at him in utter confusion, your eyebrows pulling together as you listened to him speak.

“That’s why everything is so… blurry, unpronounced. I’ve always painted what I saw, and this... this is what I see.” He gestured to the painting, your eyes flipping back to it and looking at it in a new light. Your brain working a mile a minute as things started to click in your mind.

The clumsiness. The way his art was growing more and more abstract, less defined, turning to simple brushstrokes of color. The way his eyes never seemed to focus very long on any one thing, his squinting.

His hostility.

“I don’t want to give up being an artist… I love it more than anything. It’s my passion, but I don’t see how I can keep going if I can’t even find my paintbrush half of the time.”

“Shinsou…”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not giving it.”

He turned and regarded you, looking hesitant, guarded. All you wanted to do was give him a hug, but from one artist to another… you remembered what you felt like when you hurt your ankle. The fear of not being able to do what you love. He needed someone to push him, to show him he still can. Not someone to coddle him.

“This…” you gestured to the painting, stepping towards it and tilting your head as you looked at it. “This is amazing Shinsou… this isn’t just a picture. It’s not just a rendition of life. This shows emotion. It impacts someone. This …This is art. If someone doesn’t like this, if someone tells you this is trash, or it isn’t art or you can’t be an artist. They are a fool. A complete idiot. And they are just jealous because even with full sight they can’t make something half of amazing.”

Turning back to the purple haired artist, you expected an argument, a protest, some lame excuse as to why he thought it was awful. But instead, he just looked at you for a long moment, before turning back to the picture, hiding a smile as he hummed a soft response, his voice cracking as he did. “Whatever you say my muse.”

From that day on, Shinso was back at the theater, back to painting you, a little less moody than usual. After your second injury, days after Aizawa had given you the role of Prima, which he had to give to the other dancer, Shinso had come to visit you daily, helping you around as you healed. Some days he would paint, sometimes he would bring a hoard of pencils, once he even brought just paper, taking time to fold up so many little figurines for your bedside table. After you had healed enough to start lightly dancing again, the two of you had decided to work out of his home. Allowing you the freedom to dance, without disrupting the theater, and allowing him to create art as he watched.

-Present Day-

The creak of the door had you glancing up from your bath that was starting to run cold, the bubbles still piled high more than covering your body from the artist who hovered at the door, ever the gentlemen and averting his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, staring at the floor with his hands in his pocket. The two of you had grown very comfortable with each other, to the point that outsiders would be appalled, but he was your closest friend. You were his muse.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You noted the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks as he kept his eyes on the floor, your silence making him uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and started to speak again.

“I can call for a carriage to take you home, but you really need to get that ankle delt with first, at least let me wrap it for you.”

“Hitoshi…”

You watched him tense up, like he was waiting to get slapped even though you were across the room. The sight had your gut clenching, not in a good way.

“Come here.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wavering but focusing on your own in bewilderment as he choked on his own spit, reaching up and straightening his vest. But you just nodded your head, affirming your words, a slight smile on your lips as he hesitantly stepped towards you until he was hovering at the edge of the bathtub, his eyes focusing on your face, his stance relaxing as he recognized you weren’t mad at him.

You lifted up your hand, your smile widening as he took it in his own, rubbing his thumb across your soft skin, seeming mesmerized by the way your fingers curled around his own.

“I wish…” He started, his eye brows pulling together for a moment as he paused in thought, only for him to start up again. “I wish I could see you dance for the rest of my life.”

“Hitoshi…”

“I want to be with you y/n… I want to hear your music, and make you smile, and I want to draw you until I have no more paper, and even then I’d paint you on the walls. I want to be able to hold you and tell you how amazing you are and to get to see you live your dreams and fly like the angel you are. I want to be able to touch your face whenever and to memorize it that way because I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to see your eyes or those lips. God those lips. I want the first thing I do every morning and the last thing I do every night to be kissing those lips.

I want to go to the racetracks with you every weekend and enjoy how relaxed and carefree you are, and to hear your little squeal when the gun goes off for the race to start. I want to be able to go get breakfast with you from that little café three blocks down and sit in the park and listen to the birds. I want to take late night strolls with you and feel the warm summer nights. I want to dance with you under the moonlight while we make our own music. I want to stay up all night just listening to you talk about literally anything, and I want to see what you look like when you first wake up in the morning when I bring you breakfast in bed.

You’re not just my muse for my art… y/n you are the reason I continue to live and breathe. You are the reason I can still paint. You are the reason I get up in the morning and frankly the only reason I get dressed enough to go out in public, just so I can see you. You are my muse in all senses of the word.

Y/n… I.. I love you.”

You were stunned into silence, eyes wide as you regarded the man in front of you. This moody artist. Who constantly looked tired, and whose sense of humor was dark and sometimes a little rude and self-deprecating. Who you were pretty sure could draw you with his eyes closed because he had already done so thousands of times. Who stood by you even though you weren’t able to do the one thing you were good at anymore.

You barely even registered what you were doing yourself, but one moment you were looking up at the young artist in front of you, your fingers wrapped in his, and the next you were yanking his hand, pulling him into the over-sized bathtub on top of you, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you pressed your lips to his.

The sound of water sloshing about was drowned out by the sound of protest that came from Hitoshi at getting wet, which was quickly replaced with a sigh of satisfaction as he eagerly answered your kiss with his own, his hands resting on either side of the bathtub to help him keep himself up.

You separated your lips from his, a cheeky smile on his face as he moved to pepper kisses across your cheeks as you giggled trying to get a word out.

“I love you too”

“Yea? A grumpy artist? That never sleeps. And half the time doesn’t remember to eat. You sure?” He moved his hand to cup your cheek, which you leaned into rolling your eyes, before he leaned in and kissed your nose, moving back down to your mouth, pressing himself further against you.

You let out a content sigh in response, arching up into him, bring attention to the both of you that you were very much naked. You felt your cheeks heat up as his gaze flickered down towards your chest, leaning back slightly to get a better view as he let out a hum in thought.

“We should get you dried… dressed… should really deal with your ankle.” Even as he spoke the words, his hands slid under the water, hesitating on a little before they softly caressed your sides, one moving to grip onto your hip, the other resting on your rib cage, thumb dangerously close to brushing your breast. You watched as the man above you chewed on his lip, seeming distracted by the sight in front of him. You wondered what it looked like to him. You wished he could see it all clearly.

“Toshi… come here.”

“Hmm? I’m right here.” His focus never wavered from taking in your body, his own eyes seeming to glaze over as he kneaded circles into your flesh with his thumbs, his tongue running across his lips only to be replaced once again by his teeth.

“Toshi..” Your whispered out the nickname, your fingers lacing behind his head tugging him closer to you until he relented, pressing his lips against yours once, then twice, then groaning as he went back again for a third time, his grip tightening on your hip as his other hand reached up and tangled into your hair, water sloshing out onto the ground from his movements.

His lips were soft and plush against your own, moving a little clumsily at first but quickly getting his footing as he pressed further against you, angling his head just right, slipping his tongue against your lips asking sweetly for more. You momentarily forgot how to breathe as you let him have access, a moan vibrating your throat as he swirled his tongue against your own, coaxing you back into his own mouth before sucking on your tongue lightly groaning in response to you.

You gasped, feeling his hips roll against your own, his wet clothes pressing against you just right, making your skin sensitive to the point that you were arching into him. Feeling your pebbled nipples rub against the scratchy fabric of his vest, the seem in his pants sliding along the space just above your clit, making you wonder what it would feel like if it just moved down slightly. Separating your lips, he shifted so that his lips were against your ear, softly speaking to you, his voice growing husky as you felt him pressing against you, the bulge in his pants bigger than you expected for the lean artist.

“Y/n.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, his voice dropping even lower as his fingers at your hip shifted towards your thigh, moving closer and closer to the apex. “Let me take care of you, my muse. Let me make you feel as beautiful as you are to me.”

You nodded, barely containing a whimper as you felt his tongue run along the edge of your ear, his breathe hot against your skin, his fingers delving between your thighs, coaxing them apart so he could shift to be between them. His fingers splayed across you, sliding between, and separating your folds, his middle finger making a languid circle against your already swollen nub. His voice strained like he was trying to hold back groans of satisfaction as he breathed his words into your neck, pressing hot open mouth kisses to your skin.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day I met you.” He buried his face against your skin, letting out a groan as you whimpered softly in response to his fingers slow and purposeful touches, fingers sliding easily across your bundle of nerves, circling and circling, from the water surrounding the two of you. “I’ve wanted to worship you until you realized just how amazing you were.”

Your own hands drug across his back, coming around to pull the buttons of his vest apart with trembling fingers as you pressed yourself up into his touch, trying to remove all boundaries between the two of you. He slowly sped his ministrations up until he found the perfect speed that had you mewling at his touch, grinding up into his fingers to get more pressure and relief, whispers begging for more leaving your lips like they were your mantras.

He focused all of his attention on your clit, lightly tugging it with the pads of his rough fingers from years of using them to blend out chalk and charcoal. His lips moving from your neck to your ear only to whisper soft encouragements and praises into you.

Finally, after what felt like too long you yanked his vest off of his shoulders, it pooling in the water, trapped on his arm, and quickly made short work of his button up shirt, cursing the fashions of the day and whishing there was an easier and quicker way to undress. As soon as you had access to his chest your lips were on his skin, pressing kisses, your teeth snagging against his neck pulling soft moans from the man on top of you as you sucked on the skin leaving marks.

“Please Toshi more. More.”

“Fuck darling..” his fingers left you for the briefest of moments, making you cry out in frustration only for his to sit up and tear off his shirt and vest, tossing them into a wet heap of fabric on the floor, the sound sounding just as obscene as the noises leaving your lips. His hands shifting to his pants, quickly untying them and pulling them off only for them to follow the rest of his clothes allowing you to see him in his full glory for the first time. He didn’t give you time to appreciate him though, his lips sealing against your own, forcing your eyes closed as his fingers returned to their new home between your legs, his hips rolling down against you making you moan with the heat that was coming from his dick rubbing against your thigh.

You nipped at his tongue, drawing more noises of pleasure from him as he coaxed you up and up, rubbing his length against you sensually as he shifted closer and closer to your cunt. You were both panting at this point, dizzy from the lack of air, but not caring as you pressed closer to each other, long forgotten the water splashing out onto the floor making a mess of his bathroom.

Your fingers dragged down his chest, nails leaving marks that he leaned into as you searched for your own toy to play with, finding it took both hands to hold in your grasp. You didn’t have to do much work, his thrusts doing practically everything as you guided his tip up and down your slit, surprised to feel the distinct difference of your own wetness compared to the water, his own fingers in the way occasionally as he strummed you closer to the finish line.

You couldn’t help the wanton moan that echoed through the house when his tip dipped inside of you and pulled back out, your eyes rolling back as you lifted your hips up to his own, forcing him further inside until he was practically at the hilt, your hands moving to grip his ass and pull him closer to you, legs wrapping around him and trapping him in place, his hips thrusting into you as he cursed against your lips.

“Fuck. So god damned perfect darling.”

He didn’t move for a moment, instead focusing on making sure you were comfortable in your positions, his lips devouring your own, a smile on his face as he whispered soft praises between kisses. But that moment quickly passed, you being the first to roll up against him, dragging a curse out from his lips, him dipping his face to press it into your cleavage, a groan leaving his lips as you ground up into him with a whine.

Lips attached to your nipple, one hand still swirling your sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to cry out, the other pinching the other nipple between two fingers, rolling it in perfect unison as he suckled on you, tongue laving back and forth, the heat of his mouth making you want to scream.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, dragging himself almost all of the way out of you, your walls clenching as he did to get him to stay, only for him to press back into you, bottoming out and pressing against your cervix with each thrust.

With one more flick of his finger against your clit you were gone. His name leaving your lips in short breathy cries as you arched up into him the pressure feeling too much as you clenched down around him, your grip tightening and trying to hold him in place. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers continuing to slowly circle your clit, helping you ride out the wave as he pistons in and out of you, your own name being said as a prayer.

He released your nipples as you came down, shifting his lips back up and slowly moving up your neck, sucking and biting on the skin as his voice reverberated around the room.

“You are so fucking gorgeous. So perfect. My beautiful muse.”

You could feel him starting to speed up his thrusts, making more and more cries leave your lips as you tried to keep up with him, already feeling pressure building up again.

“Toshi.. please, please… Toshii… pleaseee.”

“I know darling, I know. Fuck you feel so good. I’m not gon-“

His voice was cut off with a groan as he pressed his forehead to yours, fucking into you relentlessly as your walls fluttered around him. A hot huff, before he groaned out your name again pressing into you, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“Toshi please, I wanna cum again. Please.”

“Fuck- nng… Fuck. C- haa-“ He couldn’t finish his words, plowing into you, feeling the waves of what little remained of the water crashing against him, perfectly level with your clit making you arch back up into him with a whine as you tried to find a second release.

“Fuck. Darling… Kitten… cum for me.”

He buried his face into your chest, a long-drawn-out moan leaving his lips, sounding broken as you felt hot spurts of liquid squirting into you, your mind exploding with pleasure as his quirk snapped on, making you scream out his name, feeling aftershocks hit you wave after wave as you collapsed against the back of the tub, panting harshly, your mind hazy as you came down.

The two of you sat there for several moments, gasping for air, your legs shaking form tensing up for so long. After a moment or two, Shinso glanced up at you, his cheeks red, hair sticking to his face from sweat, an exhausted but content expression on his face.

“Are you okay my muse?”

You let out a snort, and a short nod in response, leaning into his hand as it cupped your cheek, him leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips a smile on his.

“You’re magnificent.”

“Hmm.. I bet you think so.” You leaned back, looking at the ceiling with a smirk feeling your body relax only for your attention to be brough to your still swollen ankle as you shifted it, pain shooting through your leg.

At seeing your face, Hitoshi sighed softly, shaking his head before pressing another kiss to your lips, pushing himself up and into a standing position, leaning over to grab a towel, his still impressive length swinging practically in your face making you blush.

“We really need to take care of your ankle. I’m serious this tim- Oh fuck kitten..” his fingers gripped your hair, his head dropping back as he closed his eyes, his dick twictching back to life as you ran your tongue along it slowly, a snarky laugh leaving your lips at his reaction.

“Kitten?” You tilted you head back, looking up at him a question in your eyes, his face turning scarlet as he looked away from you biting his lip, hiding a sheepish smile.

“Please let me take care of you… stop distracting me.”

You huffed a pretend sigh of annoyance, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Fine, if you must. But I’m continuing that later.”

He rolled his own eyes at you, stepping out of the bath and drying off before moving to also grab you a towel, helping you out of the bath as well, taking extra care to dry off every inch of you, making you lean your weight against him and not on your foot before he scooped you up, shuffling off towards his bedroom.

“I don’t want your injury to get worse. You still want to dance don’t you?”

You hummed a soft acknowledgement, wistfulness lacing your tone as he slowly placed you into his bed, helping set up his pillows to accommodate your leg better. He would get the two of you settled then call for the local doctor to come look at you. He just hoped you didn’t want to go home soon.

“As must as you still want to paint.”

His smile was filled with understanding as he brought over one of his shirts to you, helping you into it but leaving your bottom bare, covering it with a blanket before dressing himself only to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes latched onto yours with a look of adoration you had seen so many times and mistaken for something platonic.

“You know, I’d love to paint you bathing sometime. You truly look like a goddess then.”

You blushed at his words, shaking your head laughing, a fluttering feeling in your stomach as you realized just how much things had changed so quickly.

“The scandal Mr Shinso! What would the papers say about us? My honor was already sullied months ago just by being here, but now you want physical proof that you’ve seen me without my knickers?“ You were joking for the most part. You didn’t care about honor. Scandals. Most girls would be ashamed to be rumored to have even kissed a man that wasn’t their husband in this time, but you loved him, and you knew nothing wrong could come of that. Who cared what anyone else thought?

“Then marry me.”

You froze, staring at the artist who looked more sure of himself than any other time you had seen him. His face completely serious, shoulders relaxed, as he gazed at you like you were his entire reason for living.

Your lips split into a smile without you even realizing, your cheeks almost hurting from how wide it was as you looked down at your lap for a brief moment before meeting his eyes once again when his hand reached out to take yours, thumb rubbing soft circles.

“Yes. Yes I’ll marry you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Want to show your support? Buy me a coffee!

61 notes · View notes

klaineownsmysoul · 3 years

Note

Why does D agree to certain things? It’s probably because the alternative is worse but then I still don’t understand why he agreed to the sham. He could not have right? Idk what would have happened had he, but I feel anything is better than being married to her. All she does is ruin his reputation, and give him a straight image (to his team), so I genuinely wonder what image he wants for himself because if he didn’t go along with it, what else could they have painted him as that they haven’t already and continue to?

There are endless opinions on this, depending on who you ask. The m/iarren stans and the fans who believe that every message from D’s SM are actually from him will tell you that there was nothing to agree to because he loves her and wanted to marry her because he can’t live without her. They have a love that’s truer than true and are #couple goals. They are perfect for each other in every way and he adores her every breath and she’s just as devoted to him, which is why she follows him everywhere he goes. There’s nothing odd about the length of their relationship and the fact that no one involved in it can give you a consistent time frame. You ask 5 people how they met or when they started dating, you’ll get 5 different answers. All those pics of them together where she’s grabbing onto him and clutching at any limb within her reach are just her being affectionate. The fact that they sit like strangers on a subway during one part of an interview and when it’s noticed, the next part that’s released has both of them being all touchy feely is just coincidence. The dude bro slang and emoji filled posts are just him having fun and being spontaneous. They’re cheeky and silly. Its just him living his best life and there’s nothing forced or untoward about it. He loves only hanging out with her trashy besties and spending nights entertaining the masses in her piano baby/lifelong dream business that she can’t be bothered to promote or run while he accompanies her on the piano looking completely lifeless as she drunkenly butchers one of the 4 songs she knows and thinks she can sing. He’s just being a supportive partner when he talks about the awful branded merchandise from the strip bar during a tv segment that’s supposed to be about his career and then models it later on in a cute coupley pic where he looks like his soul has just left his body. Having her accompany his every move is just what married couples do or didn’t you know that? It’s not natural for one partner to do something without the other, especially if it’s career related. All celeb couples are joined at the hip once they officiate their own wedding. All celeb couples have a wedding - or a great party as it’s sometimes known as - that is corporate sponsored to within an inch of its life. All celeb couples who have one person say they didn’t want to be in a public relationship have a cover story done in Vogue magazine and then have their pr team make sure the link to that article is noted and shared in practically every print interview done for the other person for over a year. This is all completely normal behavior for a 100% believable couple.

There are no such things as contracts that dictate behavior and managers and pr teams don’t post things on their client’s behalf. Lavender relationships and marriages are a thing of the past. No one would dare impose something like that on a celeb in 2021. It must be nice to be that naive. Or sad. Mostly sad. If you believe that, then you haven’t been listening to the stories of celebs who’ve been closeted and decided to come out at the risk of their career. It’s a thousand times easier to market someone as straight - there’s no denying that. And when you’re young and just starting out, you have no leverage whatsoever and will go along with what people tell you to do. If you don’t, you don’t have a career. It’s as simple and evil as that. They hold all the cards and if you want to be a musician or an actor, you have to play by their rules. You sign a deal and before you know, everything has snowballed and you’re in so deep, you don’t know how to begin to climb out. Look at Taylor Swift and the mess she’s gone through with her songs and she’s one of the biggest singers on the planet. Whether you’re a fan or not, you know who she is. If she can’t get control over songs that she freaking wrote because of a shitty contract she signed when she was like 16 without massive amounts of legal issues, what hope do the people who are less famous have? Look at what D said about his lack of input on the evolution of Blaine’s hair and how he didn’t want to rock the boat. Something as simple as that and he didn’t feel like he could or should speak up. Now apply that same mentality to a legal document and think about how hard it would be to try to countermand any part of it, especially when you’re as young as he was then.

D’s team is particularly troublesome because they’re lazy and incompetent and have no interest in marketing him as he really is. The easy way out is the straight way out and that’s their lane. That’s the one they’ve chosen and they will ride that till the wheels fall off. Let’s be honest: D is all RR has. He’s going to milk every drop he can out of D while he can. There’s no celeb out there with an established career who’s considering new management who looks at D’s situation: the circus that is always around him, the garbage that’s posted on his SM in his name, the endless ads for things like ugly ass jewelry and a paid promo pic for a 5 star hotel in the Philippines from the group honeymoon (not a thing) that they crashed after D spent days sifting through garbage with women who live in abject poverty and will never make the kind of money that even a meal at that hotel would cost which totally makes him look awesome - and think “yes! This is what’s been missing all along. Where do I sign?” He’s not getting a free home reno and some TV time from the girl who played Luna in the HP movies and B/ecca T/obin - someone who played a forgettable and unremarkable bitchy blond cheerleader (def breaking the mold there, totally not a trope that can be found in every 80s high school movie or tv show) and now hosts a ridiculous podcast. So he’s going to push his own agenda and make sure that everyone knows his client is straight at every opportunity that’s presented and foist his bride in our faces at even more opportunities just in case it wasn’t clear because oh my god did you hear that D is straight? And he’s been dating this super cool rockstar woman since he was an embryo so there’s no way anything could have ever happened between him and someone else from this show he was on for a while. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. He had a small role and a love interest but they weren’t real popular. I mean if you’ve seen one gay teenage romance, you’ve seen them all. The show’s been over for 5 years and they’re hardly ever mentioned now so there’s no point in keeping them alive. It’s not a role that meant anything to him and it’s certainly not something he would want to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of. I wonder if he was allowed to do that as long as managed to shoehorn in a mention of his lovely ball and chain of many moons. Because that’s what always happens. Doesn’t matter what the topic at hand is - it always seems to come back around to her. And she just smirks and flashes her fake engagement ring at the camera and eats it up because he does all the work and she reaps all the rewards. Like RR, she’ll never give him up without a fight because what then? No one will write articles about what a badass she is. No one will be there to do free promo for her strip bar. No more red carpet pics or designer duds gifted to her. No more free trips to Europe or last minute weekend getaways with his stylist. No one will care about her super secret Instagram account and post pics from it that she’s forwarded over so they get picked up and pumped out to news blogs for maximum coverage. No more pics with actual famous people because who’s inviting a career less nobody to events? She’s a woman in her mid 30s who behaves like an 18 year old on spring break and thinks nothing of it. She doesn’t give a shit how her behavior reflects on D because she doesn’t care about him. All she cares about is what he can provide her and that’s secondhand fame, money, and the image of the best wife to ever wife. But if he was single, then there’d be even more questions about his sexual orientation than there are now and no way to refute anything. So we get this clusterfuck. What they fail to understand is that the harder they push, the more holes they create and the more distasteful this all becomes. I just want to be a fan of D. That’s all I want. But I can’t do that because he comes with a front and center “work family” that I can’t get away from.

I sometimes don’t know what he wants for himself image wise but I truly don’t think it’s this. The difference between in person D and SM D is too great for me to believe he’s really cool with all of it. I don’t know how many more times he has to say that he’s rarely on SM, which should be the reddest of red flags that most of the stuff posted is not coming from him. The fact that he’s taken to SM to rebuff things said in his name that are patently false and insulting reinforces that belief for me. He’s not perfect but he’s not the fake barely literate guy he’s portrayed as. I wouldn’t still be here if I thought that’s who he really was and I wouldn’t care at all about his personal life if it wasn’t shoved down my throat ad naseum.

Well this post kinda got away from me. 😊. I’m so very tired of all this and if I’m tired, D must be exhausted.

#pathetic and obvious table for one please #Hollywood is effing toxic #he deserves so much better

57 notes · View notes

willowbird · 3 years

Note

For the prompt thing, could you do 2 for au, 4 for trope and 5 for prompt with andreil?

Hogwarts au, meet messy, "you have the emotional capacity of a brick"

Dearest anon, how did you know that I have been literally aching for an excuse to do something with a hogwarts au?

For context, because idk if I'll be able to explain it in the ficlet, Andrew and Aaron have been raised by their real father, Joseph Minyard, and his wife, Betsy Dobson, since the twins were seven. Andrew instinctively retaliated against an abuser with magic when he was in foster care, bringing him to the attention of whatever the US's ministry of magic is called (I forgot). They found his dad, who is a British wizard, and also discovered Aaron's existence. The twins, upon meeting each other and finding out they were wizards, chose to stay together and go with their dad rather than risk potentially being separated in whatever system the US magic people has for orphaned magic kids.

(look, I've been thinking about this A LOT okay?)

The following scene would take place the summer before the twins' fifth year. They are fifteen, Kevin is sixteen, Neil is fourteen.

Please be aware that all these characters are a lot younger and significantly less traumatized. I mean, shit still happened to them, but they all get rescued from their abusive home lives a lot earlier than in canon.

---

Andrew Minyard had lost a bet.

It was a really shitty bet, and Andrew should have known at the time that he was being fucking set up. But, well - what was it that broody fucker always said? Oh. C'est la vie. Or something. Whatever.

Point being, Andrew made a stupid bet and then he lost and it was really his own damn fault. Now he was stuck going to stupid Kevin Day's stupid house to play stupid broom-ball over summer break when he could have been basking in the wonders of muggle efficiency like television and air conditioning. What made it worse was that his mom had been so damn delighted that he was going over to a friend's house, too, and Andrew didn't usually have it in him to smash her hopes and dreams when she was so genuinely happy for him.

So. Here he was, broom in hand (because if he had to do this he was at least going to suffer with the familiarity of his own fucking broom), staring up at obviously haunted creaky old manor house that Day apparently lived in.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "Just.. great." Andrew did not like ghosts, did not like them one fucking bit. They always wanted to chat you up and had absolutely no respect for personal space.

The longer he delayed, though, the longer Day was probably going to force him to participate in his bullshit "training camp", so Andrew straightened his shoulders and trudged up the cracked stone staircase that lead up the hill to the front door of the house. The very second Andrew had both feet on the dilapidated front porch, one hand reaching for the knocker, the front door began to swing slowly open. You know, as they were wont to do in creepy old ghost-infested houses owned by wizards.

Without waiting for a welcome (because the door fucking opened for him, that was invitation enough), Andrew strolled inside. He didn't even flinch when the door slammed shut behind him.

(Okay, maybe he jumped a little bit. Just a little.)

No one was waiting for him in the foyer, because of course that would be too easy. At least the inside of the house didn't look as abandoned as the outside did. On the contrary, the foyer was well-lit and free dust and cobwebs. It opened up into a round sitting room that looked lived-in rather than haunted, personal affects strewn about here and there in vaguely organized chaos and family pictures on the mantle above the fireplace.

This, Andrew had learned quickly upon his introduction to the magical world about seven or so years ago now, was fairly common when it came to magical families living in and around muggle neighborhoods. Sure, there were wholly wizarding villages, but not a ton of them. Most of the magical community had to coexist or at least peripherally exist with the muggle one. With the work of a couple of charms and a heavy dose of aesthetic, a magical family could live comfortably without the muggles looking too closely - and even if they did look closely, it was the haunted old house at the end of the street so strange things were bound to happen around it, right?

Homey as it may be on the inside, it was still actually haunted, though. Andrew had a good sense about ghostly lairs and this was definitely one of them.

Heaving a sigh, Andrew moved through the sitting room and ventured deeper into the house. The sooner he found Kevin, the sooner he could leave.

The rest of the house, Andrew swiftly found, was an uncanny combination of the haunted image it presented to outsiders and the cozy haven of the front sitting room. The hall leading off the sitting room was normal when you looked down it heading away from the sitting room, but when Andrew looked back over his shoulder it was like looking into something out of a cheap horror film (of which Andrew had viewed many, much to his father and brother's chagrin, but his mother liked to critique them with him).

Andrew checked each door he came across. Some of them were locked. Some opened into perfectly normal coat closets and bathrooms. At least one of them opened onto an actual cemetery where a bunch of ghosts were playing croquet. Andrew quickly shut that door before any of them tried to talk to him.

It was when he came to the staircase, however, that he finally started to get somewhere. Voices could be heard when he hit the first landing, but they completely vanished when tried to move beyond it - either further up the stairs or out into the hall. Turning to inspect the walls, Andrew realized that one of them wasn't actually a wall at all, but an illusion -- his hand right through!

"This is getting ridiculous," Andrew grumbled to himself as he stepped through the goddamn fucking wall.

He found himself in a wide, clean hallway bathed in the bright sunlight that was streaming in from the skylights placed every few feet. From one of the open doors a bit down the hall, Andrew could finally make out the words of what was obviously an argument.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to your bloody school, Day?!"

"You can't just not go to school, Neil! The Ministry will have your wand, and then where will you be?"

"Oh come off it, do you really still buy into all that regulatory shit? They can't track me if I'm not a student unless they have an open warrant out on me. I could turn the corner store into a giant anthropomorphic pig that pisses coffee and they wouldn't know it happened until the story hit the local news, and even then they'd have a hard time tracking me down, considering those lazy twats barely even know how to read let alone track a rogue wizard."

"Galloping Gargoyles, Neil. Where in Merlin's name do you come up with this shit."

"It's called an imagination, Day. I was able to foster one while not being indoctrinated into the sheep-brain miasma that is Ministry-approved wizarding society."

This 'Neil' was getting more worked up as he spoke, spitting out his words like he was crafting a very pointed hex. There was the scuff of footsteps and a shadow fell across the hall as someone stepped toward the hall. "I'll be leaving now, thanks. Have fun being institutionally programed to fit the conservative mediocrity."

A larger shadow blotted out most of Neil's. "You can't just go, Neil!"

There was a scuffle, then a short kid wearing oversized robes stumbled into the hall. "Try and bloody catch me then, you lumbering infant of a Bandersnatch!" And then the kid turned and bolted down the hall -- right toward where Andrew had paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Now, Andrew was all ready to step aside. This was none of his business, after all. If this mouthy kid wanted to run away and join the circus or something, more power to him. He, also, thought school was a nightmare. But then Kevin stumbled out into the hall and shouted, "Andrew! Block him!"

And, well. Look. This was all fucking Kevin's fault. Kevin and his stupid cross-House quidditch club and his obsession with running drills. It was also Nicky's fault, for forcing them all to go so they could bond or what the fuck ever the purpose was. But Kevin shouted 'block!' and Andrew had spent two years as a beater and one year as a keeper and, well, reflexes kicked in.

He blocked.

Except, he had spent two years as a beater, and he was holding a broom. So.

His arms moved on their own, and it was a mighty, vicious swing. The next second the kid was flat on his back, gasping to try and catch his breath. Kevin loped over on legs too long, shooting Andrew an appreciative grin that Andrew kind of wanted to punch off of him.

"What.. the.. actual... fuck..." the kid - Neil - wheezed from the floor.

Now that he was officially drawn into this mess, Andrew allowed himself to indulge his curiosity and slung his broom up against one shoulder to approach the fallen boy. He felt a little bad (okay, more than a little), so he figured he'd offer him a hand up at least. Except, when he got to the kid and looked down he was shocked to find just about the prettiest boy in the whole Nimue-cursed universe.

(Andrew's gay awakening had happened when he was twelve years old. The keeper of the Gryffindor quidditch team smiled at him and told him he'd make a pretty good beater. Andrew had tried out for his own House team the very next week, and it had all been downhill from there.)

Andrew cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something cool and unbothered, because that's what you did when you met someone pretty and wanted to impress them. Instead, like the utter dork that he was, he said, "Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

"What the fuck is a Weasley?" the sharp, pretty boy on the floor shot back through gritted teeth, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Kevin's obnoxious shadow fell across the both of him and he sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Don't mind Andrew, he remembers everything he hears and has a tendency to regurgitate random lines from other things when he feels awkward or anxious."

"Don't mind Kevin," Andrew followed up conversationally, "he's an insufferable know-it-all with a tendency to overshare and force people to play stupid broom-ball when they should be having a perfectly air-conditioned summer break."

"You emotionally wound me."

"You have the emotional capacity of a brick, don't try me Day."

Kevin rolled his eyes. Neil honed in on Andrew with eerie intensity. "You have an air-conditioner?"

Aha! Mission accomplished: cute boy impressed.

Andrew smirked. "Yup." He popped the 'p', feeling quite good about himself, his earlier bumble placed in the back of his head where he could obsess about it later.

Neil's narrowed eyes scanned him up and down, then relaxed, the blue of them bright and intelligent. He looked like he was figuring something out about Andrew but Andrew had no idea what or why. It took some effort, but instead of squirming he met Neil's gaze full-on. After a long moment, Neil seemed to have made a decision. He pushed himself up to his feet and nodded. "Alright then. You play quidditch?" He gestured to Andrew's broom with the jerk of his chin.

He hadn't noticed it earlier because he'd been so fascinated with the argument itself, but now that he could focus on Neil's voice, Andrew realized that there was something of about his accent. It wasn't that it seemed fake but more that it... it reminded him of his own, back when he'd been younger and had only been in England for a couple of years. He remembered being teased for it, and getting into a lot of fights because of that. Well, he remembered getting into fights because Aaron was also teased, and no one picked on his brother but him.

"I thought you were going to run off and join the circus." Andrew arched a brow.

Neil wrinkled his nose. "No. I'm still not going to your stupid castle school." He paused and looked from Andrew to the broom back over to Kevin and sighed. "But... one or two games of quidditch before I go can't hurt."

Kevin looked overjoyed. He grinned at Andrew and Andrew supposed that they really must be friends now, because he felt quite pleased about that.

"Great!" said Kevin. "Let's go! We should be able to get in some warm-up rounds before the others get here!"

"Others?" Andrew and Neil said with identical inflections of disdain. The sound of an echo startled the both of them and the looked at each other. Then, Neil smiled.

Andrew supposed a day without AC playing stupid broom-ball wasn't so bad after all.

Fun little prompt things

#asks #ficlet prompts #aftg #aftg fanfic #andreil #hogwarts au #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard x neil josten #did this turn into more of of a meet-cute?#meet messy #meet cute

36 notes · View notes

buck-nialled · 4 years

Note

idk if i’m doing this right but for the Setting + Trope + Sentence Prompt Game

niall: setting - 1, trope - b, sentence - 14 🤍🤍🤍

NOTE: Thanks for the submission! Click HERE to see all prompts and send your own combo to my inbox!

SETTING: after a near-death experience

TROPE: a big damn kiss

SENTENCE: “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

BANG - N. Horan Imagine

On the rare occasion when your and Niall’s schedule were concurrently wiped, most days consisted of being attached by the hip at his Los Angeles household. Mornings were spent going out together to catch up with friends or admire the belted trousers that hugged Niall’s ass perfectly on the eighteen-hole course he would drag you out of bed to cheer him on at. Nights were reserved with only each other, in the most intimate positions your bodies could lock themselves into. Whether that be a warm bubble bath you prompted Niall to join you in after concluding another delectable dish he had made or heating each other’s bodies with panting breaths and lazy kisses as you entwined your quaking legs together. Catching up on sleep and attaining a healthy number of hours unconscious was also on the agenda, but never failed to collapse once your and Niall’s calendars became clustered again.

When Niall placed a crisp white envelope in your lap and said nothing, a feeling of apprehension consumed your insides. This would be no regular weekend, you thought to yourself.

You picked up the envelope to inspect the front and back for any writing but came back unsuccessful. “What is this?” You rose a brow in suspicion for what the contents inside could be. Niall’s impatience revealed itself as he sat beside you on the couch and bounced his knee in a furious rhythm, mumbling to “open it.” You giggled, noticing how hard he was trying to keep his lips in a firm line to hide his smile and knew the answer to your question could only be good.

“Hurry, the suspense is killing me.” You wasted no extra time dwindling and ripped the seal to the envelope. You pulled the lip of it open and gasped at the thick rectangles sitting at the bottom. Plane tickets, you think to yourself. After you had retrieved them from the bottom with a racing heart, only one question rattled around your head: what adventure did your boyfriend have planned this time? You skimmed over the flight information on the ticket, but Niall had the answer before your eyes could locate one.

“They’re for Ireland.” You set the tickets on your lap and focused your eyes on his. His hand blindly searched for yours to embrace. The feeling of his calloused thumb trailed on the skin of your hand while he continued his explanation. “Figured it was time for you to finally meet my family and friends back home. We both have the next few weeks off together and I know that’s rare, so I thought there was no better time than now.”

The promise to fly you down to his hometown had been brought up many times in conversation. He just had the opportunity to share dinner with your family months before and had been reminding himself to return the favor. You assured him it would be okay for him to not uphold his end of the bargain temporarily, since escaping your occupations for over a week and at the same time seemed inevitable. But the man was adamant, and now that he had finally been gifted the wish of taking you down to the place he grew up, there was no chance he was letting the possibility pass him by.

Niall does not think there was anything more gratifying than when he made you smile. Your arms locked around his neck tighter than they ever had as you squealed excitedly against the skin of his shoulder. Though the two of you still stood over five thousand miles from Mullingar, a sense of being home coated his insides as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. He noted how your hair smelled like home too, and your skin was soft like the childhood blanket still sitting on the bed at his mother’s house. He realized then, bringing his two homes together would be a feeling unlike any other. It was one he couldn’t wait to experience.

------------

Possibly one of the cutest sights was Niall’s smile acting like a beacon as he led you around to all of the famous sites Mullingar had to offer. Granted, half of them consisted of his favorite pubs, but the shimmer of his eyes as he spoke of each one made you giddy inside. When he knocked on his mother’s door with shuffling feet, you prepared to let go of his hand when you imagined all of the embraces he would be engaged in moments following. But you were caught by surprise when you received the first hug out of both of you, from the short blonde woman who could only match Niall’s description of his mother. As you were brought down to her height to return the welcoming hold, the familiar laughter of your boyfriend sounded behind you when his mother mouthed excitedly to him: “this is the girl! she’s so pretty!”

Even more endearing than Maura showing you baby photos of Niall and cooking what Niall informed her was your favorite meal, was your boyfriend performing actions just as charming for you. Being foreign to the country and Niall’s vast knowledge of growing up there only equated to him bundling you up in every jacket and sweater you packed before entering the cold. He would spend nights making you cups of hot cocoa or tea Maura had stocked up in the cabinets and cuddle you on the sofa. A warm blanket, fresh from the dryer, would be sprawled out on your laps as he played you some of his favorite shoes and movies from when he was younger.

When the day to introduce you to his "buds" arrived, you both agreed to meet up with them at a pub near Niall's house later in the evening

The shattering of a beer bottle and crossed, accented shouts were all it took for the night to go downhill. Ireland’s alcohol was phenomenal, Niall informed you a few weeks before your flight, but some people can’t control their emotions when intoxicated. You always heard the expression of drunk words being sober thoughts. But you could process none of what these men around you were spitting, as their voices were too slurred and heavy to be understood. You ducked and tried scuttling around the altercation in hopes of spotting Niall in the crowd. His comforting form remained beside you for the last twenty minutes, introducing you to all of his friends and chatting before all of them dispersed, including Niall. He only promised it would be for a quick trip to the restroom and he would be all yours for the rest of the night. However, the dim lighting and escalating violence nearby proved his sudden absence very poor in timing.

“Niall! Ni!” You shouted, drawing a few heads your way. Everybody in his hometown knew the name. Hell, everybody in Ireland recognized the five-letter, top-charting musician’s title. You were unfazed by the glances spared in your direction and continued your efforts in working your way through the dancing, chattering swarm of people. The shouting only increased in volume, passing the music playing over the bar’s speakers and a football match on the television. You turned your head back around to find you had made little to no progress in escaping the quarrel when the bartender tried separating the two, snapping figures. Pauses began taking place in between their unintelligible threats, and when the worker attempted to interrupt the fight and declare to call the police, a long silence filled the room. You, along with many other patrons of the pub let out breaths of relief and prepared for the night to carry on, tension-free. As you spun around, one of the men now behind you muttered something and you froze in place when you heard the unmistakable click.

The gunshot reverberated through the walls of the vicinity and made your ears ring. Another followed before you had time to turn around. People were trampling over one another to evacuate the building with petrified screams. You, though, ran the opposite direction and toward the restrooms where (you hoped) your boyfriend was located. Booming stomps sounded on the hardwood flooring of the pub during your scramble to the swinging doors in the back, but louder ones drew closer to you. As your palm made contact with the sticky, cold texture of the painted door the feeling of hard metal halted you in your position.

“Not so fast, birdy. I can’t have any witnesses.” His grating voice slurred. On instinct, you removed your hand from the door and rose your other to match its height.

“P-please,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. By now, you prayed Niall had exited with the rest of the patrons to safety. “Please don’t.”

“Ah, an American bird! What’re ye doin’ here all alone?” Trembles overcame your body without permission. Hot tears started slithering down your face as you remained focused on the restroom door.

“You’re right,” he speaks again after a few moments of silence. “I don’t need to know,” he laughs boisterously. “Hell,” he hiccups, “you won’t even be able to tell me in a few se—“

“Police!” More stomping echoed around the barren pub. “Sir, drop your weapon and put your hands up. Now!” A man barked. You remained unmoving with shattered breaths. A clatter of the gun never sounded, and you squeezed your eyes impossibly tight once your inevitable demise continued digging into the back of your scalp.

“Sir, I won’t ask you again. Drop the weapon.” Your eyes opened. Now concentrated on the silver bolted plate flush on the door, you studied its reflection. The man turned his head as to scowl at the officers.

“We won’t hesitate to shoot.” Another spoke, readying his weapon.

“Neither will I.” The drunkard replied, never taking his eyes off of the men in uniform. It was then you took the opportunity to whirl your body around and snatch the gun from the man’s hold. His grip was tight on the weapon and only allowed limited maneuvering of the firearm. Losing no more time to fulfill his threat, the man’s finger laid pressure on the trigger. Another gunshot sounded through the building. But you felt this one inside of you, damaging your middle as you clutched your stomach desperate in attempts to claw the bullet out yourself. You lost your footing and stumbled back against the restroom door. Your mouth hung agape when the man lifted it to his head and allowed you the sight of his end. One final BANG resounded, before the officers scattered about the room. One called for more ambulances and medics on the scene into the walkie talkie clipped on his collar.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” You nod, stunned by all you had witnessed and remembered the initial reason for your run away to the back of the bar.

“M-my boyfriend. He’s—bathroom.” You stammer, trying to twist your body in attempts of entering the restroom yourself but elicit a pained wail instead.

“We’ll search this whole building for any others but it seems like you two were the only ones in here. Right now, we’re gonna get you out of here okay?” The feeling of drowsiness overcomes you, the pain in your stomach ceaseless but becoming tolerable once fight or flight takes over. Medics enter the scene and you feel like you are floating when they assist you onto the gurney. Removing your red-stained hands from the wound once instructed by the emergency care team is the last focused sight you recall having. Their overlapping chatter and cool, Ireland air biting at your skin wade you off into the darkness. But through it, you swear you can hear Niall’s voice, soothing your every qualm and ache.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay petal? It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. It’ll be okay.”

------------

The bright fluorescence scorched your eyelids and elicited a hoarse moan from your throat. Niall, who sat in a chair beside the white bed and your figure adorned in a baby blue gown added pressure to your laced hands. Watching you be pulled away from his side for emergency surgery and observe your unconscious body the last five hours on a bed, with the fear you would somehow flatline nearly drove the man to insanity. He felt idiotic and a lack of chivalry within him when he sped from the bathroom by the sound of gunshots and assumed you would already be waiting outside for him with open arms. His mother’s visit to see him and wait for a few hours while you slept did little to ease his gnawing teeth against his lip and fingernails, and his restless leg.

“Petal, are you awake?” Niall’s gruff voice and a squeeze of your hand is all the incentive necessary for your eyelids to peel themselves open. Your eyes adjusted to the harsh light, and as you bring your un-held hand upwards to stretch, pain shot straight to your core and made you curl into yourself.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Niall stands from his set and feels the blood rushing down to his legs and feet. He endures the pins and needles as he waddles over to your injured person and brushes the hair away from your face. “Love, you gave me such a scare.”

“I’m sorry—“

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. I was stupid to not find you first before I left to go outside. The officers said you were lookin’ for me and found you by the restrooms…” He says in question, earning a meek nod from you in reply. “Why didn’t ya just book it?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The feeble squeak followed by a slap of Niall’s palm against his chest. A feeling like no other pained his heart as he stared down at you.

“Love, if anything like that happens again you have my full permission to leave me there. Have you ever seen me play hide ‘n seek? I would’ve made it out of there fine, trust me.” His comment leaves you in a fit of giggles before a vicious hiss passes through your teeth. One of your hands, adorning an IV went to clutch your stomach with your other palm.

“Oh yeah, the doctor told me earlier you should try and keep your laughing to a minimum. Your stitches might pop if you don’t.”

“That won’t be so hard with you as my housemate.” The genuine tone laced in your worlds cued Niall’s lips to quirk down instantly. He brought his face closer to yours, cupping a cheek in one of his hands as he gazed deeply into your eyes with a devious twinkle in his pupils.

“If I could, I would tickle you so hard right now. But you’re injured so I’m going to give you a damn big kiss instead.” His lips were planted on yours seconds after, leaving no room to reply as he fulfilled his promise. Loosely, you clutched his biceps adorning a long-sleeved t-shirt and sighed blissfully into his mouth. The ache of your stitched stomach no longer mattered. Niall’s devoting words and warm lips could numb any bullet that struck you.

#Niall horan #Niall James horan #Niall horan imagine #niall horan oneshot #niall horan blurb #Niall horan imagines #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan angst #niall horan story #nh #njh #niallhoran #nialljameshoran #niall horan x reader #one direction

192 notes · View notes