#who allowed steven's voice to wobble this much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - ix (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The voyage that promised you safety had been a lie.

Warnings: TRIGGERING CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER, A lot happens in this chapter! Major (and minor) CHARACTER DEATH, This chapter is hella heavy (heavier than I meant it to be), injury to reader, MISCARRIAGE, blood, SEXUAL ASSAULT, descriptions of wounds, A LOT OF BLOOD,

Word Count: 3.3k

In case it wasn’t clear yet...

TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The silence of the night was interrupted by the loud clattering of the guards’ boots against the tiled floors. Doors were being opened and slammed shut. Servants and nobles woke up startled when the armored men burst through their chamber doors, searching for one woman… You.

“Find her!” The king’s voice boomed throughout the castle. No one could tell if his tone was full of anger or concern. The two seemed to blend into one loud growl that barked orders at everyone in sight. Perhaps… it was neither emotion… Perhaps it was simply desperation. “Find her now!”

But you were long gone by the time Lord Barnes had relayed Natasha’s confession.

As soon as the sun set and the moon rose high into the sky, you and Wanda made your escape. Not wanting to be seen, nor heard, you abandoned your shoes. Your bare feet were silent against the cold floors as you both ran out of the castle and towards the docks.

You were surprised to see that Brock was nowhere to be found. In his place, stood the older Lord Pierce, who introduced you to the sailor who would escort you to Wakanda. The sailor was a man who only went by the name “Stern”. He was a pudgy older man who smoked a strange pipe that emitted a woodsy, lemongrass-like smell.

You didn’t like the way he eyed you and Wanda. His eyes shamelessly looked over your friend’s chest which made her shrink behind you. He had wandering hands that were bold as he pulled you into a tight hug, feeling up your body. He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek.

Pierce explained that Brock’s estate suddenly needed his attention and that the lord rushed over during the day to handle the matter, but he wished you a safe voyage. For some reason, you didn’t like the way “safe” sounded in Pierce’s mouth. It almost felt as if it were insincere – like the words of a politician.

Minutes had passed and Natasha was nowhere to be found. Although you wanted to wait, both Stern and Pierce advised that the longer you wait, the slimmer your chances at escape became. He promised he would protect her from the king’s wrath as best as he could, even offering to steal her away to York. Reluctantly, you and Wanda agreed that it was best to leave… Besides, Natasha was being courted by James Barnes, one of the king’s oldest friends. Her safety was nearly guaranteed by that fact alone.

So, Pierce ushered you and your friend onto the boat. You thanked him and asked him to thank Brock for you just before the boat set sail.

You watched as the towers of Ameera, Brooken’s castle, faded into the distance as the boat brought you closer and closer to safety – or, what you thought was safety.

Hours into the voyage, you were dry heaving over the side of the boat with Wanda pulling your hair away from your face. You weren’t sure whether to attribute the nausea to your pregnancy, or the violent sways of the boat, or your minor head injury from being pushed down the stairs. Whatever was causing this bout of sickness, it made the trip twice as uncomfortable.

Eventually, you had collapsed due to the exhaustion. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as she pet your locks, humming a soft lullaby to comfort the both of you. The boat would jolt side to side and Stern would let out a stream of curses. Although it seemed as if the strange man couldn’t expertly maneuver a boat, he did swear like a sailor.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Tell me!” Steven ordered. His hand gripped his sword tightly as he glared at the red-headed woman who cowered in her lover’s arms. “Tell me why she left. I don’t want to hear James’s words. I want to hear it from you.”

“She was convinced she couldn’t stay here.” Natasha said, her voice shaking as she trembled. “You had hurt her – multiple times… and your people turned on her the moment it seemed appropriate for them to. She was afraid and she was offered help, a promise of safety in Wakanda. She thought she had to take it. She felt as if she was in danger.”

“By whom?” Natasha looked up at Lord Barnes, who gave her an encouraging nod. The king’s tone was unamused. He was worried for you. “Lady Romanova, who offered her help.”

She gulped. “Lord Pierce and Lord Rumlow.” She glanced at the king’s hands which gripped the hilt of his blade so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. “I tell you this because I fear they don’t have good intentions with the queen. She’s vulnerable, impressionable. I think they’re feeding upon her own fears.” Steven’s grip loosened as he raised his eyebrows up at her, questioningly, prompting her to continue. “And there’s another thing… She’s pregnant, your grace, with your child.”

“What?” James muttered in disbelief. She hadn’t told him this beforehand.

Steven’s face dropped entirely. His worry tripling. You had fallen from the stairs, pushed by one of the ladies of his court, who he stripped of all her titles as punishment. Now, you were missing. Your disappearance aided by two men he knew were conspiring against him. You may have thought you were in danger in Brooken, but you had no idea how much danger you put yourself in by putting your faith in these two men.

“Take one of our fastest ships and sale towards Wakanda. It’s only been hours. They couldn’t be far.” Steven ordered Lord Wilson. He was a loyal friend and was an expert at sailing. He trusted no one more. “As for the rest of you, find me Pierce and Rumlow. Now!”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

(TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD)

You woke up to an earsplitting shriek. Your body was thrown haphazardly onto the wooden deck of the boat. Your head was heavy and dizzy, vision a bit unfocused, but you could make out two bodies feet away from you. When your vision began to clear, you realized it was Stern on top of Wanda, who was screaming your name and pleading for the man to get off.

“Get off of her!” You screamed, scrambling to your feet and wobbling over. The boat rocked beneath you. You pushed him, but you were too weak and tired – exhausted and injured from your fall the day before.

He reached out a hand and shoved your stomach, hard. You fell to the ground with a loud thud. You groaned in pain. Wanda screams were muted when his hands wrapped around her throat. She clawed at his wrists, desperately trying to break free.

With blurry vision, you searched the boat. Your head turned side to side, trying to find anything. The sunlight was reflected by a sharp blade behind the man’s body. You scrambled to pick up the dagger which already had blood dripping from it.

You screamed as you plunged the dagger into the man’s back several times as deep as it could go. The man backed away from Wanda, standing to his feet. She scrambled away with what energy she had left.

“You little bitch.” He moaned. His hand reached over to cut that you left. He winced as he withdrew and saw the blood. Stern stomped over to you, the boat rocking with his steps. You screamed as he twisted your wrist, the blade dropping from your grip, clattering onto the wooden floor. Stern was in your face, the stench from the pipe filled your senses, suffocating you. “I should’ve raped you first.”

He pushed you onto the ground again and threw himself over you. His hand grabbing at your skirts. You screamed and tried to push him off. Over the loud crashing waves, you heard fabric ripping. You sobbed and braced yourself, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut.

But nothing happened.

You heard a choking sound as warm liquid spilled over your face, some of it finding its way past your lips. A coppery taste filled your mouth. It reminded you of when you’d bite your lip or your cheek too harshly and it would bleed.

You opened your eyes to see Stern sporting a long, deep gash that split his throat open. The cut went from ear to ear. He scrambled to his feet, spluttering blood everywhere. Behind him stood a heaving Wanda, her hand covered in the same liquid that painted your face – the dark crimson of blood.

Her skirts were ripped and exposed her legs that had blood dripping down. She had her own pool of blood that collected in the fabric of her dress. She sported her own gash on her stomach. She fell to the ground as the boat rocked one way as Stern knocked himself overboard.

You found what little energy you had to crawl over to your friend who was bleeding out from her wounds. You cradled her head onto your lap, pushing her hair away from her face. She was pale – paler than she normally was – as she stared up at you.

“Wanda…” Your voice cracked. “Stay with me…”

“This… this was a… this was a mistake.” She muttered. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, giving you a squeeze. The blood on her hands left a print over your scarred skin. Her voice was weak as her strength began to wane.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You cried.

She gave you a soft smile and reached up to wipe your tears. Wanda took a deep breath and shook her head. “We shouldn’t have left…”

“I know… I’m sorry…”

“No, no…” Wanda smiled, gently. “Listen… The king loves you… Whether you want … to believe that or not. He does…” Her breaths were ragged, struggling. “I see it in the way he looks at you.” You saw the bruises that Stern’s fingers left on her throat. “He loves you, (Y/N)… Allow him to…” The muscles on her face began to droop as her arm slumped to her side. Her eyes glazed over as they stared lifelessly up at you.

You let out a scream.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun had set, and you were left shivering in the cool breeze of the ocean. You covered Wanda’s body with a tarp you found. You washed your face with the salty water as best as you could, scrubbing the scum’s blood off of your skin until your skin felt raw.

You weren’t sure how to sail, so you let the boat rock aimlessly.

Sanctuary in Wakanda must’ve been a lie. Pierce had lied. Brock had lied to you. They played you. Was this their plan all along? To rape you and your ladies just before killing you all in the middle of the sea?

You stared into the depths of the water. The hue of the water reminded you of Steven’s eyes. A deep ocean blue with specks of green. You missed his eyes. The warmth they gave when he smiled. The way they sparkled when he spoke to you. You missed his voice and his touches. His lips. You missed him.

Monster or not, you love him.

Suddenly, the dull pain in your stomach made itself prominent as your adrenalin ceased. It was sharp and striking, knocking the wind from your lungs. Your hand flew to the pained area and you winced. Your eyes widened with fear. “No…” You begged to whatever god was listening. “No, please… no.”

You tired to stand… Perhaps you could walk off the pain, but it raked through your body and made you collapse once more. Fresh tears began to roll down your eyes as you felt a warm liquid drip down your legs. You didn’t need to see it to know that it was blood.

“Over here, my lord!” Someone called out. There was a light in the distance. Another boat speeding towards yours. You didn’t recognize the voice, but you recognized the sail. The crest of House Rogers proudly displayed along with Brooken’s flag.

“Queen (Y/N)?” Another voice called out. A figure emerged as the nose of their boat gently bumped against yours. Samuel Wilson. His eyes were wide as he tried to train them to look into the night. “What’s happened?”

It was dim and the only light the night provided was the moon and the lanterns of his own boat, but with his many years on several battlefields, he could recognize the stains of blood anywhere. Your boat was covered in it. The tarp that harbored your friend’s body underneath was stained with it. Your ripped dress, too.

You didn’t need to answer. He knew.

Sam helped you onto their boat. He shook off his coat to wrap around your shivering body. You asked for him to retrieve Wanda as well, wanting to give her a proper burial. The ride back to Brooken was silent. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved to be going back or to be petrified. Steven must be so angry with you.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked. He genuinely cared. He really did.

You shook your head as another bout of sobs erupted through you. You held your head in your hands and wailed into the night with no care of whether the men on the boat judged you or not. You had lost one of your best friends and your baby all in the span of a day.

You were broken.

Sam wrapped his arms around you, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he paid it no mind. He glanced down at your legs, seeing the red spirals of blood. His heart sank to his stomach as he assumed the worst.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Your grace! Your grace!” A servant boy ran through the king’s chambers. The king laid wide awake on his lonely bed, staring up at the canopy over him.

“What is it?” He asked, sitting up. The boy was sputtering words, no coherent sentence forming. “Out with it, boy!”

“Lord Wilson is back … There’s a body in a tarp and another woman asleep. I didn’t see who the woman was.”

Steven’s heart dropped. His anxiety peaking.

You couldn’t be dead… The thought alone broke his heart.

He rushed out of his room, almost knocking the boy to the floor. It was as if he were experiencing déjà vu as he ran through the corridors towards the infirmary. It was the only place they would put a body.

He caught a glimpse of Natasha’s red hair disappearing as the doors shut behind her. Sam had walked out.

Sam grabbed his arm and shook his head. He heard Natasha scream, “No!”, followed by a loud sob.

“Sam – “Steven tried to push past his friend, but the lord’s grip was like iron.

“You should know…” Sam muttered, his voice so low only the king could hear. “Lady Wanda had been … assaulted… She was stabbed and she died from her wounds.” Steven felt guilty for feeling relief, but the body in the tarp had not been his wife. Who could blame him for being relieved? “Steve …”

“What happened?” Steven snapped. “Why will you not let me in?”

“I’m not sure what happened on that boat.” Sam whispered. “But it was covered in blood. Your wife’s dress was torn. I saw her legs with blood dripping down them.” Steven’s blood began to boil – like his friend, assuming the worst.

“Who was on that boat? WHO DID THIS?”

“She didn’t say. She was exhausted when we found her – cried herself to sleep, poor bird.” Sam explained, shaking his head. “I cannot be certain if a similar assault happened to your wife, Steven, but…”

The doors creaked open. Natasha’s red hair popped out. Her eyes red and puffy, face wet with tears. “The queen is awake… If you would like to speak with her, your grace?”

“I do.” Steven nodded. Sam bowed before leaving his king as did Natasha.

You looked tired. Dark circles rimmed around your eyes. One of your wrists was wrapped in a bandage. “My love…” Steve said so carefully as if he were afraid his voice alone would shatter you. You were staring up into the ceiling, tears running down the sides of your face. “My love…” He repeated as he slowly walked over to your side.

“She’s dead…” You whimpered. “She died because … I wanted to run.”

“I know, my love… I’m sorry.” Steven didn’t know what else to say. “What happened?”

A broken sob escaped your lips as you brought your uninjured arm over your eyes and cried into it. Steven rushed over and made you sit up, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You allowed him to hold you as you cried into him, trembling with each sob. You missed how his warmth engulfed you. It gave you a sense of security – of home.

He shushed you, running his fingers through your messy hair. “It’s alright… You’re alright now… You’re home. You’re safe with me.”

“Am I?” You asked, choked with a sob. “Am I truly safe here in Brooken?”

“I will strike down any threat towards you. I swear to you on my life.” Steven said.

“I was pregnant.” Steven’s heart dropped. Was. “Perhaps it was the stress or… or the struggle when S-Stern was on top of me.”

“Did … Did he … ?” Steven couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

“No.” You shook your head, reading his mind. “Wanda saved me just before she bled out.”

“Stern?”

“A sailor Pierce hired to take bring us to Wakanda… I should’ve trusted my instinct.” You scolded yourself. You blamed yourself. How could you not? If only you had listened to your suspicions, your instincts before… Maybe Wanda would’ve been alive… Maybe your baby would’ve survived. “I lost the baby.” You cried into Steve’s chest.

“It’s okay.” Steven said, rubbing your back, soothingly.

“It’s not!” You screamed.

“I am thankful you are alive. We have a lifetime to bring children into this world. My concern is for you, (Y/N).” Steven pulled you from his chest, his hands cupped your face as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Do we? Do we have a lifetime? Or will you grow tired of me like Margaret or Sharon because I cannot give you an heir?”

“What?” His face scrunched up with confusion. What did his past wives have to do with you providing him with an heir?

“You killed Margaret… stabbed her in the heart after growing tired of rejections for she did not want a child… You beheaded Sharon in front of her admirers because you were jealous others preferred her – “

“Where did you learn this?” Steven interrupted.

“Do you deny it? Do you deny that you killed your past wives?”

“No.” You tried to push him away, slamming your hands into his chest and screaming for him to leave. “Stop!” He shouted. “Stop it, (Y/N)! Stop!” He grabbed your wrists gently, cupping them into one large hand. He was cautious with your injured wrist, not applying too much pressure for it to hurt. Steven didn’t miss the way your eyes glinted with fear. “Who told you this?”

“Pierce and Rumlow.”

“They’ve lied to you.”

“But you just admitted you murdered them – “

“I did… for good reason.” Steven sighed. “We’ve been played. They’ve been turning you against me feeding you half truths and half lies… I did kill my wives, yes. Because they were working to overthrow me… House Carter was working with Thanos.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed. You were dizzy. It must’ve been the stress from the horrific events that you experienced. You felt betrayed, confused, conflicted.

“It’s time I tell you the truth.”

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve rogers imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #marvel au #royalty au

658 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

Love Is Not Forced ~ 32

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,300ish

Summary: I don’t have a good summary for this... so I guess you’re just gonna have to read it...

Steven stayed glued to Y/N’s side the rest of the night. He wiped her brow, read to her, brought her more blankets, took off her blankets, did whatever she asked. After she confessed her love, she kept slipping in and out of consciousness, which wasn’t a surprise to Steven. When the doctors and nurses arrived in the morning, they found Y/N asleep in her bed with Steven asleep in the chair beside her, holding onto her hand. They worked around the two, knowing that the both of them needed their rest. King Anthony came in not long after the doctors had arrived, surprised at the sight he found. He smiled as he walked towards them. He sat on the other side of Y/N, grabbing her free hand and placing a kiss on it.

Y/N hummed, beginning to stir awake. Her eyes fluttered open, allowing her to see Steven asleep on one side of her. A small smile crossed her face as she looked at the King beside her. He looked less like a King in that chair, and more like a worried lover. Y/N soon noticed that her other hand was being held as well. She turned to see her Father smirking down at her. The Princess rolled her eyes, already knowing that her Father was going to be smug about her and Steven’s growing relationship.

“Morning, sweetheart,” her Father whispered.

“Morning,” she replied.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better…” Y/N looked over at the sleeping man beside her. “Much better.”

A few hours later, it was decided that the royals of Alexandria would go back to their kingdom. So that they could go back to doing their duties and so that the Princess could continue to heal. Y/N was saddened at the thought of leaving Steven and Brooklyn, but she understood that everyone needed to get back to their normal lives. Wanda and Lady Natasha helped Y/N get cleaned up and changed before they were set to leave. Her legs were wobbly, since she was still on the mend, so Peter came by to help her to the carriage.

“Hey, Pete,” Y/N started as they began to make their way towards the carriage, “can we take a detour?”

“Of course,” her brother responded. “Where to?”

“The beach. I’m afraid that if I don’t put my feet in the water as soon as I can, I’ll be scared of it forever.”

Peter agreed and helped her down to the beach. He stayed by her side, helping her stay up as she slowly took a few steps into the water. She closed her eyes as she allowed the cool water to wash over her feet.

“I’ve got it from here, Peter,” Steven’s voice sounded from behind the siblings. The King moved to Y/N’s free side. “Why don’t you go tell your parents that we’ll be up soon?”

“Okay,” Peter replied, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before heading back to the castle.

The King wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to help keep her steady and close to him. The two stayed silent, just basking in the weather and each other’s company.

“You always know where to find me,” Y/N said quietly. She sighed. “I’m not ready to leave yet, but I know there are things I need to do in Alexandria. And I need time to heal.”

“I’m not ready to let you go yet either,” Steven responded, matching her voice level. “I already miss you.”

“I already miss you, too.”

Y/N turned a little and looked up to see Steven already staring down at her, affectionately. Their lips slowly met in a delicate kiss. Both of them could feel the love the one had for the other. The longing and the wanting they had for one another. It was so refreshing for both of them, to feel this way. When they broke a part, Steven pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead before resting his against hers.

“I love you, Steven,” Y/N whispered.

“I love you, my darling,” Steven replied.

Alexandria hadn’t felt the same to the Princess, since she had first returned after being kidnapped. It didn’t have the same feeling of home as it once did. When she wasn’t making appearances in the royal court, she was walking alone in the garden or sitting up in her tower. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she couldn’t help herself but long for Brooklyn. Long for Steven. And Steven, her sweet Steven, continually wrote letters faster than Y/N could respond.

My Darling Y/N,

I have never experienced a hole in my heart like this before. I have never wished to be near someone, like I have you. When you left Brooklyn, you took a piece of my heart with you. And I long to have it back, to have you back. Brooklyn has not been the same since you left.

I hope that you feel well and that you are focused on your healing. Remember, that healing will take time and that I will be there every step of the way. Even if I’m not there right by your side, I am constantly wishing for the best.

I love you, Y/N. Never forget that. I will try my hardest to find a way to see you soon.

Forever yours,

Steven

Y/N was always over the moon when she received letters from the King. There was a box on her desk in the tower, that was filling up fast with the letters he was sending. It had been almost two months since Steven and Y/N had last seen each other. Neither of them were able to get away from their royal duties for very long to be able to visit. Those around the two lovers could tell that it was taking a toll on the other. So they came up with a plan.

“I really don’t think I have time for a trip to Wakanda, Father,” Y/N said, standing on the opposite of where her Father was sitting at his desk. “I have so much to do here. I’m—“

“This is not optional, my Princess,” her Father said. “King T’Challa has requested your help with something and I am in no place to deny him this request. He did a lot to help with your rescue. I know that you wish to go to Brooklyn, my daughter, but Wakanda is closer. And, like you said, you have a lot to do here.”

Later that day, Y/N was on her way to Wakanda. She didn’t understand exactly what for. But she was okay with visiting her friend. King Anthony made sure that his best men, (Sirs Hogan and Pietro, along with Captain Rhodes) accompanied the Princess. She was still easily spooked. Especially if you were going to touch her. If you were planning on touching the Princess, you needed to make sure you were facing her and that it was okay. The guards new her boundaries and new that it was important to keep her save.

When Y/N’s carriage pulled up in front of Wakanda’s palace, T’Challa was there to greet her. He quickly opened the door with a large smile on his face.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted, offering a helping hand to her.

“It’s so good to see you, T’Challa,” Y/N responded, carefully setting her hand in his. “I was surprised to hear that you had requested my presence.”

“I know that you are a busy woman, Princess,” T’Challa offered his arm, allowing Y/N the choice to take it. She did, letting him lead her into the palace. “But I requested your presence because I have an important matter that I need your opinion on.”

“And that would be?”

“An important matter. That we will be talking about over dinner.”

“You know, Your Majesty, you’re usually don’t bet around the bush like this. What’s going on?”

“I just don’t want to over whelm you until dinner. I want you to rest up and enjoy some time in the kingdom, since you will be leaving tomorrow.”

“Okay… Is everything alright, T’Challa?”

“Everything is perfect.”

T’Challa’s words kept Y/N puzzled for the rest of the afternoon. She spent a majority of that with Shuri in her lab, observing and asking questions. Soon then she would like, it was time to get ready for dinner. When arrived back in her room to change, Wanda had already picked out a yellow dress for her to wear.

Walking to dinner, Y/N’s mind ran through what T’Challa could possibly want from her. When she arrived, she realized that she was the first one there. The Princess decided to spend her waiting time taking in the view from the large wall of windows. On her way to the windows, she noted that the table set up in the room was small and only had two place settings. She was staring out the window when she heard rushed footsteps behind her. She turned to see who it was, a little scared. But she was in shock to find out who was rushing into the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m late T’Challa,” King Steven said, coming into the room. “I was—“ He stopped suddenly, walking and talking. “Y/N? What—what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she responded.

“T’Challa asked me to make a quick visit to give him some advice.”

“Same. Looks like we were both fooled.”

“I’m okay with that.” Steven grinned, hurrying over to Y/N. He picked her up by her waist, spinning her around and causing her to laugh. “I’ve missed you so much, my darling.”

“Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

“Impossible.”

Steven leaned down, allowing their lips to meet. It was sweet, but definitely not chaste. His tongue slid along her bottom lip, asking for entry, which she happily allowed. As they kissed, her hands made their way to the back of his neck as his hands stayed securely on her hips. When they finally parted, they were both all smiles. Y/N pecked his lips a few more times before wrapping her arms around Steven and resting her head against his chest.

“Two months is too long,” she whispered.

Steven pressed a kiss to her head. “I agree… I promise that soon we will never have to be parted.”

“Soon? Like how soon? I don’t think my heart can take anymore time away from you.”

“My darling,” Steven cupped Y/N’s cheeks, “the time we are away will be nothing compared to the life we will build together.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you.”

She smiled up at him. “I love you too.”

The dinner and long night together was not enough for either of them. After dinner, they had spent their time seated at the table, talking. It was refreshing, for both of them, just to absentmindedly talk. Not having to focus on politics or impressing any one, but just talking about anything and everything to the person they loved most.

Morning came too fast for either of their likings. And before they knew it, it was time for them to head back to their kingdoms.

“I promise that I will arrange for us to see each other soon,” Steven promised, holding onto Y/N’s hands.

“I wish I could come with you,” Y/N said, looking down at their hands. “I miss Brooklyn. And I fear, the more time I spend away from the sea, the more I will come to fear it.”

“Then I will make sure to get to Brooklyn as soon as it’s possible. Can’t have the future Queen scared of the water.”

Y/N looked up at Steven, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Future Queen, huh? I’m afraid, Your Majesty, that you have yet to make an agreement with my Father or ask for my hand. It is improper to talk of marriage before the blessing has been given.”

“Oh, how silly of me,” Steven grinned. “I have gotten ahead of myself. Please accept my apology, Your Highness.” Steven captured her lips with his, teasing her with his tongue. “What that apology acceptable, Princess?” He whispered, not moving far from her face.

“Mmm, you might want to try one more time. I don’t think I fulling understood it.”

They went to kiss again but were interrupted by the clearing of a throat. They both stepped apart and looked in the direction of the sound.

“Your Highness,” Captain Rhodes began, “it is time to return to Alexandria.”

Y/N sighed. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Captain Rhodes.” She turned back to Steven as the man grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips to kiss her palm.

“We will see each other soon,” Steven promised.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

The King copied the action. “I love you more.”

Steven kept hold of her hand as she walked away, not letting go until he hand to. He watched as she entered her carriage and began the journey to Alexandria. As he stood there, Steven knew that it was time to make their love official. His heart was almost desperate to keep the Princess with him and take her back with him to Brooklyn. So that could only mean one thing… It was time to talk to King Anthony.

next chapter >

Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and dms. You guys are awesome! I love reading your thoughts on what’s happening and who you want Y/N to choose. Thank you guys for all the support!

If you want to be added to the tag list, send in an ask or dm me.

Tag List:

@dreamilyunaffectedwreck (won’t link)

@freya-xo

@laic2299

@kissesofdeadforme

@paintballkid711

@cherthegoddess

@frozenhuntress67

@hadesnewpersephone

@pukklv

@marinettepotterandplagg

@learning-howto-be-myselfx3

@kaithezaftig

@booknerd-3000

@jasbins

@the-writers-reader

@paintmekala

@imdreamingaboutwhitechristmas

@supernaturallover2002

#steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #t'challa x reader #loki x reader #king!Steve Rogers x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #thor imagine #t'challa imagine #loki imagine #marvel royalty au #marvel medieval au #tony stark imagine #marvel fanfiction

169 notes · View notes

elianamarie-blog · 3 years

Text

The Things You Give Part 16

eteven Hyde X Reader

Here is part 16! I know it’s a little short, but I’m hoping I can still deliver! Let me know what you think. Tags list is open!

Hyde and the rest of the boys didn’t return home from the party until almost five am. Y/n heard Eric and Hyde stumble their way downstairs and into their respective rooms before hearing Eric’s door quietly shut. So, it was a no surprise when she woke up around nine-thirty, the boys weren’t at the breakfast table.

“Hi Ma,” she greeted Kitty in a chipper tone and sat down next to Red. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, you seem to be feeling better,” Kitty commented and passed her a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast.

“I am. I finally feel like I have my appetite back,” Y/n said and greedily grabbed the plate, ready to dump the contents of it down her throat. Her stomach knotted and rumbled as she started shoveling food into her mouth. She hummed, satisfied.

“Boy, you’re really hungry,” Kitty said. “All that time throwing up, you got to put some stuff back in.

Y/n hummed again, this time in response. “I forgot how good food tastes.”

“So, where are the boys?” Kitty asked as she focused on her own food.

“They went out to a party last night and didn’t get home till late,” Y/n answered casually.

“Well, that explains the noises I heard,” Kitty answered. “Did you go with them?”

“No, why?”

“Because I heard a girl’s voice last night and I thought it was you,” Kitty replied confused.

“What?” Y/n asked, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“What? Steven brought another girl home?” Red asked, annoyed, breaking the tension in the air. “He knows he’s not allowed to bring home any floozies home!”

“He brought home a girl?” Y/n asked, trying not to sound hurt. She shrugged, trying to come off as she didn’t care. She took a couple more bites before she couldn’t take it anymore and dropped her fork on her plate. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, honey, don’t tell me you’re feeling sick already,” Kitty asked, worried.

“Maybe. I think I ate too fast,” she lied and excused herself to the basement.

Down on the couch, she caught a blonde sleeping soundly on the couch. Her heart sank once again as she stormed her way into Steven’s room who was sleeping soundly in his bed. It took everything in her to not grab the nearest thing and beat him. Instead, she knelt beside him and gently kissed his lips, waking him.

He gently woke and slowly opened his eyes, grinning when he saw her. Clearly, he was still a little drunk.

“Honey?” she said sweetly.

“Yeah, baby?” he croaked, his morning voice much deeper and dare she say it, very sexy. If she wasn’t seething, she’d want to do it with him right there and then.

“You want to tell me what the hell a girl is doing on the couch?!” she practically yelled.

Steven immediately sat up, sobering up quickly. “What?”

“Look, I know you’re still a little drunk, but there is a blonde bitch on my couch and I’d like to know why,” Y/n said and crossed her arms. “Who is she and what is she doing here?”

“That’s Amber,” he replied and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Oh, Amber?” she couldn’t help but show her green side. “That doesn’t explain why the hell Amber is on my couch.”

“You think I brought her home?” Steven asked, feeling insulted.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d do that to you!”

“Well, you still haven’t answered the question!”

“No, I didn’t bring her home!” he raised his voice, now standing in front of her. “Kelso brought her here and then ditched her when she passed out.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Y/n argued. “Why would Kelso bring a girl here and then ditch her?”

“I don’t know! We were all pretty sloshed last night,” Hyde answered. “God, why are you interrogating me?”

Now catching sight of his full face, she caught a slight red smudge across his lips. She could feel her heart physically breaking. “What’s that on your face?”

“What?” he asked and rubbed at his cheek.

“No,” she replied and brought a handheld mirror, that was laying on his bedside table, to his face. “What the hell is on your mouth? Is that lipstick?!”

Hyde was confused until he saw his reflection and did, indeed, see something red smudged on her face. His eyes widened in fear as he lowered the mirror and met her glazed eyes. If he were being honest, he barley remembered last night and didn’t know where that came from. “Wait, y/n. I can explain—”

Before she let him, she ran out the room to the couch where the girl was sleeping and looked at her face. She had a matching shade of lipstick, faded on her lips. She gasped and turned to him.

“How could you?!” she screamed at him, awaking Amber.

“What’s going on?” she slurred, valley girl accent mixed with sleepiness shined through.

“You kissed my boyfriend you slut!” Y/n screamed and lunged at her, but Steven caught her around her waist and pulled her back.

Amber scrambled for her shoes and her coat, running out the door. Y/n watched her leave and then slowly turned to Steven with her hands on her hips. She was fighting tears as she stared at the man before her; scared and trembling. Hyde knew he was about to lose her if he didn’t act quickly.

“Y/n, baby, please let me explain,” he said, shaking and reached out for her, but she quickly pulled away. Hurt flashed across his face, but quickly went away when he saw the tears racing down her cheeks. “I didn’t kiss her.”

“Then why do you have her lipstick on your lips?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He wanted to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but he didn’t know what he would be begging her forgiveness for. He couldn’t remember last night. All he remembered were flashing and blurring lights, lots of alcohol, and chicks draping over him.

“I…don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”

She let out a choked sob and turned away from him. “You made out with some girl and don’t even remember it?”

“How could you assume that I made out with a chick without me remembering?” he asked, trying to be logical. “What if she kissed me?”

She turned back to him, her eyes red. “And did you let her?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered and screwed his eyes shut, fighting to remember the night before. “I remember her coming up to me and flirting with me, but then I turned away and that’s it. I can’t remember anything else.”

“Well, try,” she snapped.

“Please, doll, you have to believe me,” he begged and grabbed for her hands. “I love you. I would never do that to you.”

“This is exactly what Zack did to me,” she whispered and didn’t even try to choke back a sob. She felt her chest start to collapse on her and she felt her legs grow weak. Hyde’s heart broke at the sight of her and felt an even heavier weight fall on his chest when he knew he couldn’t help her feel better. “I trusted you.”

“You can still trust me,” he said, his voice weak. “I didn’t do anything.”

“The lipstick says otherwise,” she growled and yanked her hands away from his. “I need some air. I can’t even look at you right now.”

She turned to leave and at that moment, Kelso walked through the door wearing fresh new clothes. Y/n pushed passed him without a word and ran up the cement stairs.

Kelso looked to Hyde who looked like he was about to collapse himself. “What happened?” he asked.

“Y/n thinks I cheated on her with that Amber chick,” he replied, legs wobbling. He took a seat on the couch and put his face in his hands, hunching over. “She doesn’t believe me when I say I didn’t. But given the way it looks, I probably wouldn’t believe me neither.”

“Well, that’s cause you didn’t,” Kelso said matter-of-factly and sat down beside him.

“What?”

“She came onto you,” Kelso explained.

“Again, what?”

“Well, Amber, for some reason, wanted you instead of me, so all night she was following you around like a lost puppy. When you left to use the restroom, that’s when she used the opportunity to get you alone and when she planted one on you, you pushed her away and told her to kick rocks.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, I saw the whole thing.”

“And why was she here?”

“Because she was too drunk to go home and she couldn’t give Eric her address, so you let her crash here instead,” Kelso responded, knitting his eyebrows together.

Hyde’s eyes began to water, but he quickly covered them by rubbing his eyes and swiped a hand down his face. “Did Forman see anything too?”

“Yeah, he saw the whole thing.”

A light bulb went off in Hyde’s head and he jumped up. “I need you to help me prove that to y/n,” he said.

“How?”

“I don’t know…maybe you and Forman can get her to sit down and listen.”

“You really think that’s going to work?”

“It has to.”

“Alright, well when Forman wakes up, we need to find her,” Hyde said and made his way back to his room to change.

“Sounds like a plan, but first, coffee.”

--Time Skip—

Y/n didn’t even know how she got there, but she somehow found herself driving to the water tower. She felt safest up there; isolated, alone, and quiet. Where the wind allowed her to weep and sob, wiping her tears as it carried the sounds away into the air. Where she felt the sun kiss her and envelope her in its warm embrace and the moon to shine brightly down at her, as if listening to her cries and rants.

She climbed her way up the tower and before she could sit down, she broke down into ugly and shuddering sobs. She trusted him. She trusted him. The feeling of his safety lied. It lied! The timer, the feeling, the love, all of it!

She brought a hand to her stomach and wondered what was going to happen now. She thought she felt hurt before, but this kind of pain was worse than she’s ever felt. She never thought this man would ever betray her or make her feel low as she did now. Her chest and stomach hurt, and she couldn’t tell if the nausea was coming from the crying or the pregnancy.

Tears continued to rain down her face as she looked up at the sky, asking God why? She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but her heart and soul wouldn’t allow her to. Why did she get stuck in situations with these kind of men? Why was she so stupid like this? Why did she have to fall in love with hers and brother’s best friend? But all she could think is, why?

She looked back down at herself and noticed how pathetic she must’ve looked. How embarrassed she was just to be up there, feeling alone, scared, humiliated, and most of all: hurt. How could she let another guy do this to her and worst of all, knock her up? Now, he was really going to leave her.

“Hey,” a soft voice said, pulling y/n out of her tumultuous thoughts.

“Hey,” she responded, watching as Donna pulled herself onto the water tower. “You hear what happened, huh?”

“Yep,” Donna answered and sat next to y/n.

“How did you know where to find me?”

Donna scoffed. “It was either here or Mt. Hump. Thought I’d check here first.”

Y/n couldn’t help but give her a half smile; A smile of appreciation. “Where is he?”

“Looking for you.”

“I don’t want to see him right now.”

“Maybe you don’t, but you should really hear him out,” Donna said gently. “He has all of us looking for you.”

Elena groaned. “I’m a mess. I don’t want to see anybody right now.”

“Please?” she asked. “He really needs to explain what happened.”

“What’s there to explain?” Elena asked and wished she had a beer in her hand. “He kissed another chick.”

“Uhm, no. That’s actually not what happened.”

“Oh, he told you too?” Elena wiped at her face and glared at the trees in front of her.

“No, actually Eric and Kelso did.”

“What?” Elena asked and turned to Donna. “What does that mean?”

“Eric and Kelso saw the whole thing.”

“And?”

Donna sighed and turned to look at y/n fully. “He was telling you the truth. I really think you should go talk to Eric and Kelso. They saw the whole thing.”

Y/n looked down at her shoes, fighting tears. “I haven’t even told him yet.”

“Well, now’s a good time, don’t you think?” Donna asked and brushed y/n’s hair off her shoulder. “It’s gives you a chance to explain your crazy hormones.”

“Hey, I didn’t overreact.” Donna gave her a look. “Okay, maybe a smidgen.”

“Look, you had every right to think and feel the way you did, but you didn’t have to attempt a murder on her.”

“Yeah, that’s my bad.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

Y/n followed Donna down the ladder only to be met with the group, minus Hyde, waiting for her at the bottom. “What the hell is this? I thought I was meeting everyone back at the basement?”

“Not yet,” Eric said, coming forward. “Y/n, you have to believe Hyde. He didn’t kiss that girl. She came onto him and when she did, he pushed her away.”

Y/n’s face softened. “Really?”

“Yes,” he responded. “Kelso and I saw the whole thing.”

“Oh,” y/n sighed and sat down on the hood of the car. “Well, what do you guys expect me to believe when her lipstick is on his mouth?”

“I know. I would’ve thought the same thing,” Jackie answered and sat down next to her. “But Steven wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, he always said he doesn’t need the drama in his life to handle two chicks like when Kelso juggled Laurie and Jackie,” Donna chuckled.

“Hey, that was a bad time for me,” Michael defended.

“And then Hyde would say, ‘Bad for you, hilarious for us,’” Fez said, mocking the best American accent he could.

“I guess you guys are right,” Y/n said shamefully.

“Yeah, you should probably apologize to him,” Kelso said. “From what he told me, you went crazy when you saw Amber.”

Y/n scoffed. “I did not. I just don’t like other bitches coming onto him.”

“He said you lunged at her,” Eric deadpanned.

“Okay, yeah, well that I did, but—”

“You’re jealous,” Kelso smiled. “You love him! You think of another woman being all up in business and you lose it!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Y/n said waving her hand.

�� “But you loooooovvee him,” Kelso sang-song.

“Kelso, stop,” Y/n warned.

Kelso laughed and leaned against the car. “That girl was hot though. I wonder if she’s hot in bed.”

Y/n shook her head and rubbed her temples.

“I mean, I can’t believe that she chose Hyde over me,” he continued, ignoring y/n’s death glare. “I’m the one with the good looks, not him.”

“Yeah,” Y/n responded. “But Hyde’s the one with the brains.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what chicks want.”

“What do we want then?” Donna challenged him.

“Well, you know, a good lookin’ guy who can please his woman,” Kelso answered as if it was obvious.

“You know what girls want right?” Y/n asked. “They don’t want a guy like you, who by the way, I’ve heard you’re not the best in the sack—”

“Jackie!” Kelso screeched, turning towards Jackie who was leaning against the car.

“What?!” she asked. “I didn’t say anything! Recently.”

“Jackie didn’t have to say anything,” Y/n answered. “You’ve slept your way around the whole town that almost every woman in this town have something in common with each other. Women talk, man.”

“Well, you know what, y/n? Guys don’t like girls like you: loud and not slutty,” Kelso retaliated.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Y/n laughed. “Alright, girls like guys that know how to read.”

“Guys like girls who aren’t bitches.”

“Girls like guys who’s thing isn’t small!” Y/n countered and narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve seen you when you streak, Kelso. It is not impressive as you say it is. Hyde definitely outdoes you.”

Donna laughed, Jackie exclaimed in shock while laughing, Fez yelled, “Burn!” and Eric screeched, causing y/n to smirk at Kelso.

“Yeah! Well,” Kelso countered off, cheeks puffing and reddening. “Guys don’t like chubby girls!”

Y/n’s smile dropped instantly. “That’s not funny! That’s not even true!”

Kelso mimicked the smirk y/n was wearing a minute prior. “But it is!” he continued. “You used to be really hot but here lately, you’re starting to puff up. Maybe you should jump on a treadmill, huh Chubsters?”

Y/n’s blood started to boil. She knew she was starting to look the slightest swollen, but she didn’t think anyone would notice, but of course Kelso notices everything on a woman’s body. That pig.

Kelso noticed that he was getting under her skin, so he kept going. “Yeah, I’m surprised Hyde hasn’t noticed how puffy your cheeks have gotten.”

Y/n gently brought her hands up to her burning face. She wanted to hit him—no, she wanted to puke on him, but she couldn’t control it like that. Donna and Jackie noticed her demeanor and shot Kelso a warning look, but of course he didn’t even acknowledge them.

“Don’t you bring Hyde into this!” Y/n practically screamed and Fez had to jump in front of y/n. With them so immersed in the conversation, no one heard the El Camino pull up behind them.

“Hey, hey calm down, now,” Fez whispered in her ear.

“No, I will not calm down!”

“Why? Does that bother you?” Kelso smirked.

“Kelso, I swear to God, if you don’t stop, I’m going to hit you so hard, your ancestors are going to feel it!” Y/n growled.

“It might actually make him smart for once,” Donna grumbled to Jackie who snickered.

“Why does it bother you so much anyway?” Kelso genuinely asked.

“Because I’m pregnant, you ass!” Y/n’s eyes widened as she realized what she just said. She looked over to see Donna and Jackie giving her the same look while Fez and Kelso stared at her open mouthed. She didn’t even want to turn around to see Eric’s reaction.

“You’re pregnant?”

Y/n spun around to see Hyde standing behind her stiff as a board, eyes frantically searching her face. He was silently begging that he misheard.

“Steven,” she gasped. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he answered quietly. “You’re pregnant?” he repeated.

The air around them was so still that y/n could hear her own heart beating in his ears. With a shaky breath, she replied under her breath, “Yes.”

Behind them, Eric was fuming. He’d never felt rage like this before and could’ve sworn, all he needed to do was turn green and he’d be the Hulk.

“You got my sister pregnant, you son of a bitch?!”

“What—” Before Hyde could finish his sentence, Eric had him on the ground, punching him anywhere he could get his fist to land.

“Eric! Stop!” Y/n yelled and ran over to her twin brother, trying to get him off Steven.

Steven laid there, arms shielding his face as he tried to dodge Eric’s punches. For someone being as skinny as him, he had very sharp and painful blows.

“Get off of him!” Y/n continued to shout as she tugged on Eric’s shoulder, but he flicked her hand off him as if she was a pest. “Eric, stop! You’re going to hurt him!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the idea,” Fez said and recoiled when y/n turned around to glare at him.

“Are you guys not going to do anything?!” she asked exasperated. Kelso and Fez still stood there in shock, not able to move.

Hyde managed to grab Eric’s fists and twist them, causing a painful shriek to escape him as he fell to Steven’s side. Steven quickly got up backed away from Eric.

“Forman, you need to calm down!” he shouted as Eric stood.

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “I can’t believe you did this!”

“Hey, it’s not just him!” Y/n defended. “It takes two, you know.”

“I don’t even want to look at you right now,” Eric spat at his twin and turned back to Hyde. “I told you to be careful! Now crap is really going to hit the fan!”

“Eric, you need to calm down!” Donna called out to her irate boyfriend.

“How are you so calm?!” Eric’s eyes somehow grew bigger. “You knew, didn’t you?!”

“Yes, I did,” she answered calmly. “I was the first one she told.”

“And you didn’t tell me anything?!”

“No, because she asked that I didn’t.”

Eric turned to y/n. “Throughout all of this, why haven’t I been the one you can come to? You came to me for everything and now it’s like you want to keep me out completely.”

“It’s not that, Eric. It’s just…I didn’t know how to process this myself. I’m scared and I don’t know how I’m going to tell Mom and Dad!”

“You’re going to tell Dad?” Eric laughed. “Give me a heads up so that I’m not around.”

“Why are you being such a dillhole?” Y/n seethed. “Look, I know you’re beyond pissed right now, but I could really use your help.”

“Why should I?” Eric snapped.

“Because when you and Donna thought she was pregnant last year, I did whatever I could to help and make sure you didn’t get slaughtered by dad!”

“Well, clearly, you didn’t do a great job because I still got my ass kicked!”

“Dad was going to send you off to military school and I begged him not to,” Y/n pointed out. “I needed you here then and I need you now.”

Eric’s eyes softened but did not leave her face.

“Please, Eric,” she begged and grabbed his hand. “I need my twin by my side throughout all of this. You can’t leave again.”

Eric stared in his twin’s tear-filled y/c/e and turned away before he could give in. “I…I need to be alone.”

He turned away and stormed back into his car, driving off. Y/n sighed and turned around to face the others. Steven was staring at her while Donna and Jackie awkwardly stared at the ground. Kelso and Fez anxiously waited for anyone to say something.

“Look, Steven, I—”

“How far along are you?” he cut in.

Y/n swallowed hard. “Four weeks.”

Steven exasperated sighed. “You’re a month along and you didn’t even tell me?!”

“I tried!” she defended. “But every time I did, we kept getting interrupted.”

Steven turned away from her and ran a hand down his face. “Is it even mine?”

“Oh, dude,” Kelso sighed, shaking his head and nudged Fez. “Not even I did that.”

“You did try to deny it,” Fez responded. “Went as far as to run away out the bathroom window at the hub.”

Jackie nudged Fez in the ribs causing both of them to shut up.

Y/n’s jaw dropped. “How can you even say that?! Of course, it is, you dillhole!”

Hyde was silent for a minute before he shook his head. “God, why is it that every time something major happens, we have a freaking audience?!”

“I don’t know, Steven,” she sighed. “I guess God thinks it’s hilarious this way.”

“I don’t know how to take this,” he said and started pacing. “I’m going to be a father. We’re only eighteen and we’re going to be parents.”

“I know.”

“What are we going to do?” he asked, panic lacing its way through his voice.

“I don’t know yet. That’s why we need to sit down and discuss this.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I can do that right now,” he and fished for his keys in his pocket.

Y/n knitted her eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

“I have to go,” he replied without looking at her as he got in his car.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to think,” he said shortly and quickly got in his car and drove off, leaving y/n with everyone else.

“Oh, God, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Kelso said gently.

“Sorry for what?” Y/n asked, her voice cracking. “It’s not like he’s leaving or anything. He just needs some time to think. And I think…I’m going to do the same.”

As she grabbed her keys from her coat pocket, Donna stopped her. “Are you okay? Do you need us for anything?”

Y/n quickly shook her head before she could start crying. “No, I just need to be alone right now.”

Donna nodded and watched y/n get in her car and drive off.

Jackie nudged Donna gently. “You think this going to go down smoothly?”

“No,” Donna responded honestly. “Not at all.”

Taglist: @jeeperky @05-feet-off-the-table-06 @cooloclown @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @lieswithoutfairytales @taysirene

#that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Steven Hyde #Eric Forman #kitty forman #red forman #laurie forman #Donna Pinciotti #Michael Kelso #fez #jackie burkhart

132 notes · View notes

kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

catch me under the mistletoe || s.r

summary: in which a certain bond is tightened during the magical holiday season

words: ~3.6k

warnings: none. some language i think,,, and rly shitty writing bc i wrote this over a year or so ago

a/n: we’re still days away from christmas lmao, but who cares

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVE, LOSERS!” Bucky yelled out.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVE!” Thor boomed in reply, slamming his hand against a baking sheet.

“Shut the hell up!’ you hissed as you shuffled into the kitchen, a cranky look on your face. You grabbed the nearest pillow to you from the couch and chucked it at Bucky’s head. He winced and immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For waking me up at nine-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, asshole,” you muttered, reaching over to pour yourself a cup of tea. “Do you ever shut up?’

“9:30 isn’t even that early. You’re just lazy,” he argued. “And why am I getting all the hate? Thor was in on this too?”

“Because Thor is a compassionate and kind being,” you explained, as the Norse god gave you an apologetic smile.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Lady Y/N,” he greeted politely. “I presume you slept well?”

“Yes, until Bucky started making noise…”

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed. “I’ll buy you more Cadbury tomorrow, okay? Is that enough?”

You nodded. “...Okay, fine.”

Steve hobbled into the kitchen, dressed in his Captain America pj pants (Tony got them for him last year as a gift) and wearing fluffy slippers.

“Morning,” he yawned as he ran a hand through his hair to tame it, quickly kissing your forehead before sitting down in between you and Natasha. “How’d you guys sleep?”

“Got a solid six hours. Better than last week’s combined total of three, so I’d say not bad,” you replied. “You?”

“Managed to squeeze in five. So, anything new happen lately?”

“No, asides from the fact that the holidays are near and you two are acting like a couple,” Natasha rolled her eyes. You and Steve both averted your gazes and looked down. “Anyway. When are we gonna start getting decorations up?”

“After we finish eating, I guess,” Sam shrugged as he poured cereal into his bowl. “Ooh yes. I got more charms this time. Fuck the grains, Lucky Charms ain’t lucky if you got more grains than charms.”

“Shuri and T’Challa will be coming in approximately two hours. I advise you all get to work on decorating before they arrive,” FRIDAY’s voice came over the intercom.

Loki suddenly materialized in the middle of the lounge with a wide grin plastered on his face, as well as Pietro. “Did someone say decorate?”

“Have at it, brother, Sir Speedy,” Thor handed the several boxes of decorations over to him. “But please, don’t do anything stupid.”

...

You were all amazed and shell-shocked when a mere fifteen minutes later, the entire compound looked like a winter wonderland. The giant tree standing strong in the corner of the lounge was decorated from bottom to top with various stunning ornaments, garlands, and twinkling LED lights.

Long story short, it seemed as if someone had punched Santa and made him throw up Christmas. Loki and Pietro nodded in approval at their work before exchanging a high-five.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Tony cleared his throat, “the jokesters really pulled it off this time. I’m proud of you both.”

The only thing left to do was hang the wreath up, and you decided to be the one to do so. You climbed up the ladder to hang up the wreath when you felt someone taser your sides.

"Steven Grant Rogers!" you screeched, glaring at him as you wobbled and tried to regain your balance. "I could've fallen off, you bastard!"

"Oops," he shrugged, giving you an innocent look. "That was a complete accident, I'm so sorry."

"You suck," you stuck your tongue out at him before hanging the wreath up on the wall.

"Told you the holidays were a magical season," Natasha whispered over to Wanda, and they both exchanged knowing looks. “Hey, Y/N, I still have some last-minute shopping to do. You willing to drive?”

“Sure, why not,” you shrugged. “But why can’t you take your own car?”

“I don’t feel like driving.”

“Alright,” you sighed, standing up and pushing your chair in. You leaned down to quickly kiss Steve’s cheek. “See you guys later.”

“Damn,” Sam wolf-whistled as you stepped into the elevator with her and Wanda, doors closing behind you. “She’s so oblivious.”

“To what?” Steve looked confused.

“Y’all are so in love. Don’t try and go on with that ‘we kiss each other all the time’ bullshit because that’s not what people who are ‘just friends’ do.”

“But it is what just friends do. Y/N and I...we’ve known each other for a while...”

“Bullshit. I ain’t buyin’ that.”

…

After you finished your last-minute shopping, you returned home with the gifts all wrapped up and ready to go and decided to whip up a batch of gingerbread cookies. The party was due to begin tomorrow evening, and you wanted a head start so you wouldn’t be cramming mere hours before.

Soon enough, the warm smell of cinnamon and other festive aromas drifted through the air.

"Mmm, is that gingerbread?" You turned around to find Steve sitting there, chin propped on his hand.

“Yeah. When I was little, I’d help my dad bake them because he’d often burn the cookies. As a SHIELD agent, he was always busy and didn’t have the time to improve his cooking skills.” You chuckled, and a nostalgic smile appeared on your face as you recalled the memory. “I started cooking at a young age...it really helped me prepare to be on my own. It kinda became a tradition of mine to keep baking even after he passed...feels like I still have a part of him with me when I do.”

The timer went off and you grabbed your oven mitts, pulling the cookies out of the oven and placing them on the counter. You put the second batch in and reset the timer.

"You smell like cookies," Steve commented, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your cheeks turned bright pink from the physical contact. He didn't let go, and you let your arms slide up his back and stay there, as you stood in his tight embrace, breathing slowly and heart beating rapidly.

Tony broke it up by walking in and coughing loudly.

"Don't distract her, Rogers," he said, sitting on the couch with a slight smirk on his face.

The two of you pulled away from each other, looking away quickly to avoid further embarrassment.

"Speedy Gonzales, Parker, you better put those props away or no party or cookies for either of you," you scolded as Pietro and Peter were parading around the lounge.

"Darn. I look really attractive in this headband," Pietro whined.

"Yeah, it really brings out the color of your eyes," you said sarcastically.

"Thanks, Y/N," he imitated your tone of voice.

Shuri arrived soon enough, and immediately took to watching Vine compilations with Peter on the couch as they ate the few samples of the cookies you’d given them. The compound grew rather quiet, and you relished in the feeling of peace before someone could come along and screw it up again.

…

The next day quickly came and went. One by one, the rest of the guests began to arrive: Strange and Wong, the Guardians, Loki, even Fury and agents Coulson and Hill. How Tony managed to convince them to come, you had no idea.

You were dragged away by Natasha to get ready upon her insistence that you were forbidden on seeing Steve before the party. Despite your protests (”The fuck? This isn’t even a wedding? Why are you treating it like one?), she didn’t budge. Knowing her unmovable determination, you allowed her to dress you up and do your makeup.

“Wow, gold really is your color,” she propped a hand on her hip as she spun you around so you could look at yourself.

“You’re a miracle worker, Romanoff,” you laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’d be so lost.”

“That’s why we’re friends, isn’t it?” Natasha gave you a little wink. “Dress to impress, love, dress to impress.”

...

The Christmas party was now in full swing - it was just after dinner and everyone was walking around, laughing and drinking at the bar or just casually conversing with one another. You were bored of wandering around and had already talked to pretty much everyone in the room, so you decided to look around for Clint and T’Challa because you didn't know what else to do.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" you asked, holding your simple glass of ginger ale (You hated alcohol). "Stark ditched me because he's busy working the music."

"Sure," T’Challa nodded, motioning to the empty seat beside him, and you slid into the booth. "How's it going for you so far, Miss Y/L/N?"

“Just Y/N is fine,” you laughed, setting your drink down on the table, “I’m doing alright. What about you? I forgot to ask how the flight here was.”

“We were able to get a couple hours of rest on the way here, so I’d say it was a nice flight.”

“That’s good,” you nodded.

“Kinda off topic, but hey, why aren’t you talking to Capsicle? He was looking for you earlier,” Clint spoke up. “Go talk to him.”

“Clint…”

“Come on! Just talk to him. It’s not like you’re some teenage fangirl terrified out of your mind to even look in his direction.”

“Fine,” you huffed, standing up. “See you guys later?”

“See you,” the two men said in unison as you walked away.

Your eyes scanned the room for Steve’s familiar broad-shouldered figure. They finally land on him, standing in the corner with a crystalline champagne glass in his hand, standing next to Bucky with a faint smile on his face.

You take one look at him and you swear your heart stops. He was literally the human form of perfection. The black suit he wore only further accentuated his lean, athletic build, with chiseled features and a sharp jawline that had to be sculpted by the gods themselves. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of him. The collar of his shirt is rolled down slightly, holy crap- and his eyes- they seemed to be shining even more brightly tonight, if that was even possible. They made you swoon, and you never swooned. The effect this man had on you…

As soon as he met your gaze, he couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. His eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you standing there in your shimmery, gold gown, his heartbeat picking up speed.

He gave you a quick once-over before looking straight back into your eyes. “Hey, doll. You look...amazing.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled lightly, feeling your face flush, “you look great, too, Captain.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “So you’re not gonna make a comment on my appearance, huh Y/N?”

“Oh! Sorry,” you apologized, “Bucky! You look so...different!”

“Decided to go back to that old 40’s look. Tony insisted on it and I caved, so here we are,” he explained, gesturing to his clean-shaven face. “What do you think?”

“You look great,” you beamed.

“Romanoff pick out your dress?” You nodded, and he made a little ‘ah’ in realization. “She has good taste.”

“I know. I never would’ve found this on my own. Hope Tony doesn’t mind losing 2 grand from his credit card.”

“He won’t. Uh, anyways...I’m gonna go join Clint over there for our pool rematch. We have at least fifty bucks on the line now that Strange and Quill are joining in,” he motioned behind him to show Dr. Strange and Peter Quill arguing over how much money should be put in. “Catch you guys later?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “See you later.”

You turned back to Steve to see his baby blue eyes still boring into you. Normally you’d feel like shrinking away underneath his gaze but instead, you hold your head high and maintain the friendly smile on your face.

“So, how’s the party been going for you so far?”

“Other than Tony ditching me to DJ, I’m great,” you laughed, “and you?”

“Parties aren’t really my style, but I decided, why not just let loose for tonight?” he replied, “It’s Christmas. There’s no need to be in a foul mood.”

“I mean, you can’t possibly stay grumpy when you’re watching Peter and Shuri battle it out on the dance floor.” He glanced in the direction you were looking at to see in fact, Peter and Shuri, holding a dance-off as several people cheered them on.

“Staying on that topic…” he paused for a moment before speaking, holding his hand out to you, “may I have this dance?”

“Of course, Captain,” you give him a goofy grin as you took his hand and he leads you to the dance floor. Once the two of you arrive at the center, the crowd immediately parts to make room and the music immediately switches from a fast-paced pop tune to something much slower.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, pressing you close to his body. Right away you’re hit with his fresh scent of berry aftershave and pine, and clean linen. You find yourself leaning into him as he gently places his hands on your waist and your arms loosely wrap around his neck, swaying gently to the beat of the music.

“You’re pretty good, if I do say so myself,” you comment, sending him a flirty wink. He laughs in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so.

“You’re not so bad at this, either,” he grins, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. He twirls you outward before bringing you back in, quickly catching you around the waist again. “You’re very light on your feet.”

You continued to dance and twirl around the floor, onlookers thinking to themselves that this most certainly wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this before. The lights overhead twinkled with each step you took as you spun around in delicate circles, the gold of your dress glittering brightly. With the feeling of Steve’s warm hand on your back and your feet gliding smoothly across the floor, it felt as if the only people in the world at that moment was just you and him, no one else. You’re too busy to realize everyone’s stopped what they were doing to watch you two. Like Cinderella and her Prince Charming, Hercules and Megara, Beauty and the Beast - you had everyone believing you were a match made in heaven.

You’re not sure how long you stay wrapped up in each others’ arms for. Maybe it’s about half an hour later when the music switches again that you finally snap out of your trances.

“That was nice. Thank you,” you gave Steve a single nod. “I had fun.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” he looks you square in the eye as he gives you yet another million-dollar smile. Oh my god, his smile-

You make your way over together, his hand still on the small of your back, to where the rest of the OG Avengers were seated around the couches.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds themselves,” Sam smirked as you sat down, Steve putting his arm around the couch right behind your head. “Saw your romantic little moment back there.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lovebirds, my ass.”

“Language,” Steve teased, nudging you in the side. You shot him a ‘look.’

“Well, you’ve been quite the eye-catcher tonight,” Natasha folded her hands in her lap, nodding in approval as she observed your appearance. “If I were Rogers, I’d take you out on a date right away. Or if I were a man in general, I’d just straight up marry you.”

“Nat, with the way we act around one another, some people think we’re already married.”

“Touche.”

“Ooh, damn,” Clint let out a low wolf-whistle, twirling his drumsticks around his fingers. “Sounds like someone’s hot property.”

“Shut it, Barton,” you gave him a death glare.

“Okay, anyone against Y/N and Cap being a couple, please raise your hand,” Pietro announced, and when nobody raised their hands, he pointed at you. “See! No one’s objecting. You’d make an amazing couple.”

"No."

"Yes."

"Why are you guys so determined?"

"This ship has to happen. It is not going to die. Not on my watch," Sam declared.

“What even is a ship-” Steve began, but was unable to finish his sentence as Maria Hill was approaching your group.

"Merry Christmas! So I've heard this is the new power couple," she said as she made her way over and sat down as well. "How's it going?"

“Ooh, another ship member!" Clint pumped his fist up in the air.

"Damn right," Sam gave Hill a thumbs-up.

"Of course I'm on board," she smiled. "I'm all for it."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously. What is it with you guys and shipping people together?"

"It's 'cause y'all cute," Sam wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Y'all really gotta be cute like that. My heart can’t take it."

"Y/N," Steve noticed that you were looking uncomfortable and jerked his thumb behind the two of you, "want to go get some soda or something to eat?"

"Uh, yeah," you let out a sigh, brushing out your dress, "yeah. That'd be great."

"Don't have too much fun!" Tony called after you.

"Remember to stay safe and use protection, guys!" Clint cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted.

…

“Well, that was chaotic,” you breathed out as you took a sip of your champagne before setting it down on the counter. “I’m honestly not even surprised by the team, anymore...kinda got used to it.”

“Yeah, you grow immune to the jokes after a while,” he shrugged.

“You know…” you thought for a moment, a wistful yet sad smile appearing on your face as you looked out ahead, "Mom always got so excited around Christmas Eve. She wasn’t a huge alcohol lover, but made an exception for champagne. And hot chocolate. No matter how cold or warm it got during the month, she had one mug of it every day-"

You stopped for a moment to compose yourself again. "And Dad---he would make us sing along to every single Christmas track that came on the radio."

"Hey, are you alright?" Steve's brow furrowed in concern as he placed a hand on your forearm.

"I'm okay," you smiled sadly. "I just really miss them."

“I know. I miss my parents, too. My mother...she’d love you, you know. Ma always talked about having another daughter, but was unable to. Loved hot chocolate, like your mother…and never missed the chance to catch the sunrise or sunset, no matter the occasion.”

“She sounds like an amazing person,” you looked up at him.

“She was.”

You spent another hour or so talking together, feeling the tension lift from your shoulders with each passing minute. Talking to Steve came so naturally so often- that was why, when you couldn’t fall asleep at night, would go out to the balcony with him and talk until the sun rose. You just continued your conversation, until giggles and whispers interrupted your chatter.

"What do you want, guys," you rolled your eyes at the team, arms crossed and smirking at you and Steve. Shuri especially, had a rather evil grin on her face, and so did Clint, Bucky, and Sam.

"No...what they're trying to say is...uh..." Steve scratched the back of his neck and with an awkward chuckle, pointed to the mistletoe hanging above your heads.

"Mistletoe," you said softly, feeling your face heat up.

"Yeah," he spoke in a quiet voice, a light pink shade dusting his cheeks.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!" the entire room began to chant.

"Rules are rules! You're not leaving until you two kiss!" Clint sing-songed.

The air around you had suddenly grown thick with anticipation and suspense as everyone fell silent, waiting for what was to come next, your heart beating so fast that it was making it difficult for you to catch a breath. Your gaze slipped down to his lips so he took this as a cue to let his arms slowly snake around your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling as if everything was all going in slow motion.

Although the kiss didn't last very long, you made sure to take in every detail. His lips were so soft and warm, you could feel one of his hands on the small of your back as he pulled your closer, the other resting just below your shoulder blades, and you could feel the butterflies going wild in your stomach. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, it seemed, and the sparks.

It could've been hours, or weeks, or even months until you finally broke apart but when you did, you were both grinning like fools and the team was trying their hardest to hold back their excited squeals.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he breathed out, before wrapping his arms around your waist again to bring you in a second time.

“Clint! Get up!” Sam lightly tapped the archer’s cheek. “Get up!”

“I think he’s dead.” Peter whispered.

“No, he just passed out from shock,” Shuri shrugged, but then gave him a high five. “Anyway, good job, Pete! You did a pretty amazing job of hanging that up there in time.”

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine

103 notes · View notes

moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

Crown of Thorns (1/?)

Summary: Arranged to be married to the great King Steven, the Reader comes to discover he is not all as she was told. He’s cold and callous and indifferent to their union. Is she really so doomed to live the rest of her life in a loveless marriage?

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, King!Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The throne room is cold, feels foreign to you despite how much time you spend here, despite the tapestries strung up along the walls to keep the heat in during the colder months. Your dress, made of a beautiful lilac wool, does nothing for the iciness seeping into your veins. Fingers white-knuckled in the skirt of the gown, pulse racing as panic rises within you, your father’s words merely an echo in the hall.

Arranged to be married.

They’re not strange words to you. You’re a princess, and marrying a king is your royal duty. You’ve known this is to be your destiny and yet, the idea of it terrifies you, makes a cold sweat break out on your forehead as your Queen mother sits forward in concern. The notion of marrying a man you’ve never met, never even seen, makes your hands tremble. The prospect of ruling an entire country makes your knees quake, threatens to buckle them under its weight.

With what feels like water—or is that your blood?—in your ears, you realize your father is still awaiting an answer. Swallowing around the dry lump in your throat, you curtsy, just barely.

“Yes, Father. It would be...it would be…” the words are stuck in your throat. A glance at your mother, an understanding nod, and you press on, “It would be an honor to serve my kingdom.”

Your father is no fool; you know he sees right through it, but he says nothing. Dismisses you with a solemn nod of his head, a frown twitching at his mouth. In a flurry of skirts you skitter back to your room - walk, don’t run. Your handmaiden, Wanda, struggles to keep up, and you feel slightly guilty when you close the door to your chambers on her. But, you need time alone, time to think, time to grieve for your soon-to-be-lost freedom, before you’re tied to a man who may very well not be the same kind as your father.

You let loose your panic, your tears, your fears as soon as you hit your feather-bed. The sheets are damp in seconds as you cry, a dark patch in the fabric of your pillow. You hug it tighter to your chest. Soon, you’ll be surrounded by strangers, sleep in a bed that isn’t your own, eat food that tastes odd, learn the alien customs of another nation.

You know it’s your duty, know it would come to this at some point, but you’re still shocked, still rendered terrified over the notion of leaving your country. It’s signing away what little freedom you have left - as a princess, you know certain duties and etiquette are required of you, but overall, you have a fairly decent life. You’re allowed to wander the castle and its surrounding grounds, as well as access to the village as long as you take an escort. A small price, you think, to pay for a day outside the castle walls.

Now, you’re sure you’ll be kept inside, forced to curtsy and sew and gossip with the other ladies of the court. Your wings will be clipped and you’ll be caged, left to simply daydream of feeling the sunshine on your skin. The horrifying question makes your lip wobble: what if, in this new country, there is no sunshine? What if it’s a dark and damp and cruel place to live? A place where all color has been smothered in shades of grey.

That thought terrifies you almost more than that of marrying a complete stranger. A man who, for all you know, is unkind and mean and angry. A man who’ll take from you only what he needs - your body - and will otherwise ignore your existence. At least, if there is color in what is to be your new home, you can find some reprieve, some escape. Perhaps a garden to hide away in, a lake or river to sit by and read, lose yourself in stories of true romance, adventure, fantasy.

Wanda comes by later, a meek, shy smile on her face, to bring you food from the dinner you’d missed. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts, your sadness, you completely ignored the pangs of hunger until your belly lurched sharply.

You eat slowly at the insistence of your handmaiden, who meanwhile prepares a hot bath filled with lovely oils and fresh lavender to relax you. The water is steaming as you lower yourself into the tub, hissing as the hot water scalds your skin in the most comforting way. The aroma of oils and lavender eases your mind, relieves the tension in your shoulders as you sink deeper into the water, until only your head from your nose upward is exposed.

Wanda washes you gently, her nails scraping over your scalp as she scrubs your hair. It nearly lulls you to sleep. Eyelids heavy, your head lolls back and forth on your neck as she scrubs.

“Wanda?” you question sleepily, eyes closed.

“Yes, Princess?”

You open one eye and turn your head to pin her with a look. She simpers, corrects herself and uses your given name.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

She doesn’t comment on it, but you know she hears the twinge of fear, of unsureness in your voice behind the sudden exhaustion. Her hands smooth over your hair as she urges you to tilt your head back, allowing her to rinse the suds from your hair. It fans out around you like a halo, the suds providing some mild entertainment for your idle fingers as you wait.

“Nothing could keep me from you, my love,” she assures gently in her pretty accent.

In your sleepy state, it reassures you. At least you won’t be completely alone.

Two weeks later, your belongings are loaded onto the back of a wagon and a pair of ebony horses are hitched the front of your carriage. They prance and snort, eager to be on their way. You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite.

Your feet feel leaden, frozen to the ground just feet away from the carriage. Fists tangled in your skirts, much like the day you’d been sold to another king. No, you think, not sold - your father loves you too much for that. You know if he’d had any power to stop it, he would have. But in order to build an alliance with the bordering country of Mannheim, he’d had no choice. You understand, fault him not for doing his duty to his kingdom.

He smiles solemnly at you now in the courtyard, adorned in the colors of your country - gold on dusty blue, his doublet emblazoned with the golden rose sigil of your house. Your mother wears charcoal grey, the bodice of the gown embroidered with golden vines that twist and turn downward into the skirt. She’s glassy-eyed, rims red, heartbroken over losing her only daughter.

You swallow down the tightness in your throat and are urged forward towards the carriage. The boots on your feet scuff along the path, and if it weren’t such a sad day, you know your mother would have your head. Today, though, she seems to care not for your otherwise poor etiquette. She brushes her hands down the sleeves of your gown, smiling wetly before she urges you into the carriage.

It’s a long ride to Mannheim, and though the carriage is spacious, it’s stifling. You fidget in the seat, hands wringing together, then playing with the end of your hair, then tangled in your skirt again. Your mother’s lips are pursed, no doubt in irritation, and you can tell she wants to say something. However, she remains silent and lets you vent out your nervousness.

The carriage dips and rolls, jostles its passengers as the rolling landscape of your country begins to fade. The vibrant green hills turn quickly to dense forestry, shallow rivers and wooden bridges. In the carriage, it’s quiet, until your father begins to speak.

“We’ll be guests of honor for His Highness, King Steven. At the end of the week, he’ll hopefully have come to a decision.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, tilt your head not unlike a curious puppy. “Decision? What decision?”

“The decision to marry you, my dear,” your mother finishes, though she looks a bit sheepish to admit it. You feel cold all of a sudden, despite the cloying humidity that seeps in from the thick trees.

“What? What do you mean? I-I thought the decision had been made? That I was to be his Queen?”

Your father has the grace to look mildly embarrassed. “Well, there is a courting period. A week, usually, during which you’ll spend time with the King and should he desire you, the ceremony shall be had.”

You’re unsure how this makes you feel. Nervous, surely, for now you need to earn the King’s approval. Underneath though, you swear you feel...giddy. Girlish joy at the thought of actually being courted like in one of your storybooks. The corners of your mouth twitch just a bit in happy anticipation. Your mother attempts a smile but she looks...troubled, almost, not quite as excited for you. Your father merely averts his eyes out the window.

It’s a mostly quiet ride, peppered conversation here and there about Mannheim, and what life there might entail for you. It doesn’t escape you, however, that both of your parents seem reluctant to discuss in detail your potential betrothed, King Steven. While you’re sure your father wouldn’t sell you off to a brute, there’s a stab of trepidation within your chest. Blunt, but it’s there.

At some point, you end up dozing. Light but restful nap that you’re pulled out of when the carriage lurches hard again. Bleary-eyed, you look out the window, see that the landscape has once again changed. Where there used to be dense forest, now is a flat, golden ocean that ebbs and flows with the breeze. It expands as far as you can see, and while it isn’t the lush green of your country, it isn’t exactly terrible.

There are no clouds in the sky, which is a rich, beautiful blue. It blends perfectly with the hue of the grass, a brilliant bronze that rivals the treasure from your novels. Among the grass you can make out shapes - horses, you think, three of them. All deep blue-black under the rays of the sun. One of them lifts its head, its wide neck arching as it looks towards the caravan.

You’re drawn to them, like something the alchemist calls a magnet. The other two have lifted their heads curiously, watching the caravan as it passes, and then the biggest of the three shakes his head, hooves thundering as he leads the small herd down the hill and out of sight, black muscled bodies rippling, legs lifting high as they gallop away.

“Friesians,” your father supplies, seeing the look of wonderment on your face. “Native to this country. Strong as oxen and just as stubborn. But they bond to their masters like no other horses. They possess a loyalty deeper than I’ve ever seen.”

You smile wistfully at him, listen as he goes on to tell you about how the Friesians had first been tamed. It feels like the time goes faster this way, with your father indulging your childhood fantasies of taming wild horses and riding off into the sun.

The next time you peer out the window, you’re surrounded by a small village. Your father informs you you’re just outside the castle walls. All at once your belly is fluttering with nerves, and you even notice your hands shaking just a little. Swallowing heavily, you assess the village and its inhabitants. Men, women, and children alike stop their chores to gawk at the incoming caravan.

The colors of Mannheim are far more dull than those of your home. Where a rainbow of greens, yellows, blues, and purples filled the streets with color, here it is a puddle of browns, greys, and dark greens.

Despite the brightness of the grass and sky surrounding, everything else about Mannheim seems far duller.

Chapter Two

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve x reader #king!au #king!steve #king!steve x you #king!steve rogers x you #king!steve rogers x reader #medieval au

786 notes · View notes

youtuberswithalex · 4 years

Text

I’m Not Alone (Part Two)

Part One

Summary: Joan receives a text from Thomas asking them to come over.

Warnings: food, system switches, fear of abandonment (let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: 1,697

A/N: I am,,, super aware how rushed this chapter seems. Apologies!! I just wanted to get it out before the New Year!!! Thank you all so, so much for reading part one and being so interested!!! It means a lot!!!

-----

New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Joan?

Reply sent: -sup

New Message from: Tommy Salommy -I need to speak with you on a matter regarding my OSDD system. Would you like to meet up for lunch?

Reply sent: -Yeah of course, is everything ok???

New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Everything is fine. I just want to properly explain what we weren’t able to the other day, if you would be comfortable with that.

Reply sent: -thats fine. ill be over in a few

New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Excellent. Drive safe.

-----

The second Thomas opened the door, he held out his hand. “I believe it’s time we had a proper introduction. My name is Logan.”

Joan stumbled and blinked for a moment, but they did their best to recover quickly and shook his hand. “Uh, Joan. Nice to meet you,” they replied.

“Well, technically speaking, we’ve met several times before. However, I do appreciate the pleasantry.” Logan adjusted his glasses and lead them inside.

Wait.

“What’s with the glasses?”

Joan turned the corner in time to watch Logan pull the glasses off of his face and glance them over. “Well, plural dissociative disorders affect more than just… ‘the mind,’ so to speak. It also impacts certain physical aspects of the body,” he explained, “such as our vision. Patton and I, though we do not share the same prescription, share this pair of glasses.”

“Patton?” Joan asked.

“Our Memory Holder. He is also the one to most often take care of Virgil, whom you met the other day,” Logan continued. He put his glasses back on and gestured to the stove. “Would you like some Pesto Gnocchi? I admit that I am not the best cook, but I attempted as well as I could.”

They nodded and came forward, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet as they did. “Is this the Hello Fresh stuff from this week?”

“Indeed.”

The two got their food and moved to the table, and they ate in silence for a moment. Logan had been right about not being the best at cooking—the pasta was a little underdone, and the mushrooms definitely burnt –but at least it was edible. Joan wondered if the wrong prescription glasses had anything to do with it.

“So… What’s your role in the system, again?” they asked.

Logan set his fork down. “I take on the role of Gatekeeper, meaning that I am in control of who is fronting, or controlling the body, and who is allowed into certain areas inside our Inner World. Thomas and I had agreed that I was supposed to be the one to explain everything to you, as I have done the most research out of us all.”

“Oh,” they said, “So you’re the one who let Anxiety be in control the other day?”

His face turned a brilliant shade of red before he shot them a glare. “Well, I did leave someone else in control,” he snapped, “But it seemed he chose to ignore his orders and allow Virgil to be forced into the front. I can’t be there all the time when there are more issues to be addressed.”

Laughing, Joan held up their hands. “Alright, alright! An honest mistake, I get it!”

“It was. Alters are in no way perfect; we’re all just as prone to error as anyone else.” He stabbed a piece of pasta. “Also, it was not my mistake. It was our Protector’s.”

“Okay,” Joan giggled, “I understand.”

“Since we are on the topic, however, I suppose we should discuss what I invited you over for.”

“And that is?”

“Our OSDD.” Logan set his fork down again and adjusted his posture, folding his hands in front of him. “Joan, I—we—Thomas has Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder, Type 1b. There are multiple people living inside of our head. I understand this might come as a disturbance to you, but I can assure you that it is nothing like the movies and media you may have consumed about systems. There is nothing dangerous about us, nor hardly any other system that exists.”

“Media portrayals can be a real bitch,” Joan replied, leaning back in their seat.

Logan raised his eyebrows. “You certainly aren’t wrong about that. If you are… freaked out, so to speak, about this new information, it is… completely understandable, if you do not wish to remain friends.” His voice and shoulders lowered, and his eyes flicked away. “We will not hold it against you.”

That sent a wave of shock and sadness rippling through their stomach.

Joan furrowed their brow, frowning deeply as they looked Logan over. His lips were pressed tight together, and his head tilted down and away. All of his muscles were tensed as if waiting for the worst. Fingernails dug into his hands; breaths were short, yet calculatedly quiet.

It seemed to them that Logan was expecting rejection, but for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out why. They thought they’d always been supportive and clear that they were going to stick by his side no matter what; hell, especially the other day, they’d been extra careful to prove to Anxiety—Virgil? –that they weren’t going to be upset. Had they done something wrong?

Or… Or maybe Thomas had done this song and dance before, and whoever was in their current place had been less than kind. Maybe he’d just gone through some things that caused some trust issues, or—

Oh. Oh.

It was in that moment that they remembered what caused DID and OSDD in the first place.

Severe, persistent childhood trauma.

Trust issues suddenly didn’t seem too wild an idea anymore.

“Logan…”

Joan leaned forward and tilted their head to catch his eye; when he looked up, they reached out and put their hand on his.

“I am not going anywhere,” they firmly stated. “I said it the other day, and I’ll say it again: I’m always here for you. And I mean always. So what if there are more of you than I’d thought? That’s not going to change how much I love you. I’m happy that you trusted me with this information, but I never want you to feel like I’m going to leave any of you behind over this.”

Logan’s lip wobbled, and he quickly bit down on it. They rubbed a circle into his hand and offered a soft smile.

“I love you. All of you. Okay?” they said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, soft smiles lingering on each of their faces as they soaked in the moment.

And then, a huge grin nearly split Logan’s face in half.

He yanked his hands away and jumped to his feet, slamming his palms on the table. “Can I give you a hug?!”

Joan flinched a bit, but they recovered as quick as they could. “Uh… Sure?”

Letting out a squeal, he practically flew around the table before flinging his arms around their shoulders the second they stood up. They stumbled from the impact, but wrapped their arms around his waist anyway.

He hummed and buried his face in their shoulder, glasses nearly falling off his face. “We love you, too,” he muttered. “So, so, so much.”

“You’d better,” they teased.

He giggled, and then he sucked in a small gasp. “Oh, yeah! I’m Patton, by the way!”

Joan’s eyes flew wide open. “Oh! Uh… Nice to meet you.”

The two pulled apart, but Patton left his hands on their shoulders, beaming at them for a long moment. Joan couldn’t help but smile back.

Then, he winced and hissed, eyes squeezing shut. He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” Joan asked.

He groaned and slowly nodded. “Ah… headache… Patton, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that…?”

They frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Patton has the atrocious habit of figuratively ripping control out of the hands of whomever is in the front when he feels any extreme emotions,” he explained. “It always leaves us with a terrible Switch Headache, and yet, he never learns.”

“Do you need Advil or something?” they asked, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Shaking his head, he put his glasses back on, eyes remaining shut. “Pain relievers don’t affect these type of headaches, unfortunately. But I do appreciate the offer,” he replied. “Um… I believe I am still Logan, if there was any confusion.”

He took a slow, deep breath before carefully opening his eyes. Swallowing thickly, Logan glanced at the food and pressed his lips together.

“I suppose we need to finish eating,” he said.

The taste of burnt mushrooms hovered over Joan’s tongue. They shrugged. “I mean… if you’re not up for it, with that headache and all, we can always save it for later,” they suggested. “Wanna watch some Steven Universe?”

“Would you be alright with Jacques Cousteau, instead? I personally am not quite a fan of bright cartoons in general, and especially not when I have a headache.”

Joan nodded. “That makes sense. What’s Jacques Cousteau?”

Logan’s eyes lit up—they weren’t quite as bubbly as Patton’s, or as giddy as Thomas’s, but they sparkled in their own, unique manner. “Oh, it’s this wonderful documentary series from the 1970’s about marine biodiversity. Jacques Cousteau, the host, was a French film maker and marine explorer that had an extreme determination to teach…”

As Logan began to ramble on, he moved to lead them to the couch. Joan couldn’t help a fondness seep through their veins. He wasn’t Thomas. He wasn’t Patton. He wasn’t Virgil. He was his own person, one that Joan was going to get to know and learn about all over again.

Thomas and his system had to have gone through a lot to get to where they were now. Joan could only imagine what kind of pain, and shattering, and growth that he’d lived through. Their heart broke at the thought, but they couldn’t stop themselves from feeling proud of how far they’d come.

And they were going to be there for the rest of the journey.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #patton sanders #character joan #alex writes #ina

143 notes · View notes

goldensfm · 4 years

Text

* ╰ 𝐡𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬 , i’m your resident crackhead steven forced out of early writing retirement by miss rona but i ain’t complainin ! 🤡 i’m here to bring you a decidedly non - crackheaded muse utilizing the absolute goddess that is zendaya . like got DAMN 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 at her ! i’m swimming with muse for lex so i am hoping my control freak ice queen offers some sort of justice — i cant wait to meet you all and love you down endlessly ! if you could spare a 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 for my validation , i’ll offer you all my best plots in return ! 💖

𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

❛ ✶ ( ZENDAYA , CIS - FEMALE , SHE / HER ) spotted ! ALEXANDRIA ‘ LEX ’ GOLDMAN was spotted singing along to BOSS BITCH by DOJA CAT in hilton grove. you’ve heard of them right ? they are a TWENTY - TWO year old ACTRESS & ENTREPRENEUR who has already amassed a net worth of $31M. you should really follow them on insta @GOLDEN , they’re about to hit 39.1M followers. the tabloids have been calling them the EXECUTIVE because they are known for being + PURPOSEFUL but also a bit - AUSTERE. — ooc info ( steven . 21 . pst . she / her / they / them . )

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔

full name : alexandria ( defender of man ) rochelle ( little rock ) goldman ( little golden one ) nicknames : primarily goes by lex . lexie , xan on occasion , and gold / goldie . birthday & age : september 3rd / 22 years old zodiac : virgo gender & pronouns : cis - female , she / her / hers orientation : openly bisexual nationality : american ethnicity : mixed race — african - american , german , irish , english , scottish occupation : former beauty pageant competitor and 2016’s miss teen usa , current film and television actress , model , business entrepreneur , and activist . recognized for : starring in hbo’s television series euphoria , being the first openly queer representative for the usa in the pageant circuit , her advocacy for feminism and criminal justice reform , a bustling social media page , being one of forbes 2019′s top 30 under 30 . char . inspos : meredith grey from grey’s anatomy , spencer hastings from pretty little liars , hermione granger from harry potter , meghan markle , angela martin from the office , alex cabot from law and order svu , and more than anything , claire from fleabag . 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐮 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 , 𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐱’𝐬 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝟑 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬 . tropes : control freak , defrosting the ice queen , perpetual frowner , did you think i can’t feel ? , hidden depths , stepford smiler . aesthetics : an intellect that remembers everything ; wild caramel curls with just enough composure to seem effortless ; a fear of failure more crippling than life itself ; the smell of fresh linen and lavender ; a color - coded itinerary ; a perfectly choreographed interaction , each time ; lilac power - suits and an immaculate composure ; unspoken mommy issues ; tenebrous , intent gazes swimming with the resonance of unspoken thoughts ; ‘ don’t touch me please ‘ syndrome ; kicking out hookups before you both fall asleep ; ordering the same thing at a restaurant , every time ; flinching at ‘ i love you’s ’ ; drafting business emails at the club ; an admiration of atlas , with the world’s weight upon your shoulders .

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

born the sole continuance of the goldman name to a mother whose pregnancy was all but a career death - sentence , lex bore the weight of the world’s expectations on graceful shoulders from the moment she came into the light . lieutenant olivia goldman , head of the manhattan police department , can deny the salacious accused affair with the district attorney until she’s blue in the face but can’t deny the consequence of their tryst , alexandria being a painful reminder of losing nearly all her mother’s years of hard work while her father simply denied her existence and lived none the more guilted . from the start , the odds were stacked against the goldman progeny , pushing perfection as her only claim to some semblance of attention from liutenant goldman .

as a mixed race child to a white unwed mother in law enforcement , working 80 hours weeks and having spent years building her career , there was little lex saw of her mother that wasn’t something resembling exhaustion or utter disinterest . this forces her to grow independent at an astounding pace , keeping to herself as to not bother her mother with her own whims or desires . at 12 , her mother is courted by an award - winning director who requests her guidance on a police film he’s submitting — she refuses to advise on the film , but goes to dinner with him as a courtesy , and they’re married a year later in a lavish hamptons wedding in the summer . rudy delano is a world -renowned director along the likes of steven spielberg , and takes to lex like she were his own daughter . as if to balance out olivia’s coldness and detachment , he showers lex in adoration and support , encouraging her to pursue her interests of pageantry when she voices them following her 7th grade year .

considering a lifetime spent nitpicking and pushing her own facade of complete calculation , she takes the pageantry world by storm and it seems the rest of her life falls into place . a perfectionist in every sense , she maintains nothing short of flawlessness throughout high school ( taking on student council co-president , heading several clubs , and one of four school valedictorians ) and goes on to compete in the most elite of pageantry circuits . her advocacy for marginalized populations was a major platform and propelled her to miss teen new york and soon after , miss teen usa . in the live aired interview segment , perhaps among the most important moments of her life , lex makes a rare slip and accidentally comes out as bisexual when asked about the LGBTQ+ mental health crisis in her home state of new york . this leads to lex becoming the first openly queer miss teen usa , and would have likely fared well if she were to have continued ; despite its progressions , the pageant world of sponsorships seems to lag behind , and the ‘ controversy ’ of her coming out led to her leaving the pageant world for good .

on her own two wobbly feet , she continues with her advocacy and finds herself excelling in the business element of it all , going on to obtain her business degree from columbia while taking on the big screen in a blossoming film career at the encouragement of her step father . she shoots to stardom upon the release of euphoria , paired with a strong social media presence , a thriving modeling career , and a brand that becomes recognized as a household name synonymous with advocacy and entrepreneurship .

𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

perhaps lex’s most notable quality is being driven by an unyielding fear of failure and mediocrity . there is no task small enough that lex will not accomplish to the best of her execution , and if she can’t ensure perfection , she will refuse to give it an attempt at all . this all or nothing attitude stems from an obscene obsession with control and remaining in control , something those around her are all too aware of .

despite a rather charming and gregarious disposition on the red carpet , many will note that lex is incredibly reserved when meeting her in real life . the pageantry training has kicked in to give her a facade to push when she’s in the spotlight , though her true disposition is much less play and much more work . she’s stoic and serious , knowing just what to say at what time to continue the narrative that she is completely in control . cool and calculated , her affect is usually stern and unwilling to reflect any sentiment of softness or goofiness — many business associates note her absolute maturity and rationality even at the tender age of 22 . her energy , as subdued as it may be , commands the room with a power of self-assuredness that only stems from a confidence rooted in something to back it up . she’s an elderly woman in a millennial’s body , and this tends to show in her dry wit humor , relative moodiness , and general propensity for wanting things done exclusively her way .

lex’s intellect has always been a strong suit of hers , a photographic memory that allowed her to glide through school with the least of struggles . astute and well - spoken , monotone and unlikely to crack in her stony temperament , she’s a force of nature to be well reckoned with . luckily , lex shows little to no interest in engaging with petty drama and tends to keep in her own lane , losing interest nearly immediately in the mindless pettiness some of her friends wrap themselves up in . rational , arguably to a fault , lex has a bad habit of censoring herself and limiting her own commentary when in the company of anyone she needs to maintain her reputation with ; close friends , on the other hand , will easily characterize her as blunt and straightforward , almost too aggressive with her honesty for her own good . though she’d rarely voice it , she has an undeniable superiority complex stemming from a recognition that whatever she does , she’s incredibly good at ( ignoring her unwillingness to step out and try anything outside her comfort zone . )

this is the curious dichotomy of alexandria goldman , considering one of her most notable flaws is her unwillingness to invest . despite being perhaps overly honest , the moment a conversation ( or relationship ) runs the risk of becoming too emotionally risky , she shuts down . flames have been ghosted , relationships have been ended , and friendships have been cut off simply because lex deemed them to be a danger to her mission of remaining in complete control of herself and her life . the select few that have plowed through lex’s rather prickly initial interactions have earned themselves a friend forged from gold , loyal to a fault and ready to drop anything at a wind’s blow to aide those she loves most . defensive and ornery , the pageant girl facade soon blows over to reveal an anal retentive , emotionally stunted grandmother who loses her lid over the most minute of inconveniences if they step out of her pre-established plans and routines .

hiding beneath her layers of fake smiling at redundant questions , unapproachable hostility and being an otherwise unmeltable ice queen , lex harbors a deep intensity that overcomes her when allowed to reign ( and very rarely is allowed to reign ) . she does not invest in small doses and despite the relative unlikelihood of her allowing a distraction such as a relationship , the few she’s had have been intense whirlwinds led by lex’s own inability to limit herself — she’s all , or she’s nothing , but nowhere in the middle .

#hilton:intro #late. to the. party. : yes #ready 2. party ? : also. yes #😤✊🏽

13 notes · View notes

s-horne · 5 years

Text

16. National Honor LGBT Elders Day

(please read the tags for triggers)

Steve held Tony’s hand in an almost bruising grip. His arms were shaking slightly and he felt dangerously close to passing out. It was a weird feeling, one that he wasn’t used to having swirling around inside of him. Steve was used to being strong and always being the one in control. It was a strange chance of pace to be the one with trembling knees and beads of sweat dripping down his neck.

“Hey,” Tony said, tugging on Steve’s arm to get his attention. Steve turned to him with a questioning expression, gaze a little hazy. “You can do this.”

“I don’t think I can,” Steve whispered, eyes wide and lips horribly dry. His stomach was churning and he could almost taste his heartbeat.

“You can,” Tony promised, a beautifully sincere smile soft on his face. “I know you can. But you don’t have to. You don’t need to do this if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I mean it; nobody is forcing you. It’s okay.”

Steve took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he let his shoulders fall down, shaking himself in an attempt to relax as he set his face into that fierce flash of determination that pretty much personified Captain America.

“I can do this,” Steve said. His tone came out surprisingly confidently and, for a fleeting moment, he really believed himself.

Tony didn’t reply verbally, just squeezed Steve’s hand and smiled at him. With no more time to delay, Steve let Tony’s hand fall and stepped away. Taking another deep breath, Steve turned on his heel and took the final few paces out of the back room and into the main hall. As he walked across the stage, he kept his eyes down in a futile attempt to block out the noise from the overwhelming number of reporters and the bright flashes of a sea of cameras.

All too soon he was standing centre-stage and he blew out a shaky breath, bracing both hands on the podium as he stared out at the faces waiting with anticipation.

“Good afternoon,” he said, voice embarrassingly hoarse. He cut himself off and swallowed thickly, harshly. The words on the note cards in front of him began to swim, blurring into thick black lines that weren’t legible and only made him panic more. The longer he stood there without speaking, the more nervous he started to get. With each passing moment he could feel his heart pounding rapidly, the sound of its beating so loud that he was almost convinced it could be heard echoing around the room.

It was a nightmare. The whole thing was literally a living nightmare for Steve and he was heading down into a spiral. He couldn’t do this; the thoughts swirling in his head were threatening to consume him and bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t. He just wasn’t strong enough.

He turned away and was about to leave when he caught sight of Tony. His beautiful, brave Tony who wasn’t doing anything but standing at the back of the room with a soft smile. He wasn’t doing anything special, but he didn’t need to. Tony was all that Steve needed. When he was at his lowest points and when the ice was doing its best to consume him all over again, it was Tony that got him through. Tony with his joking tone or a cheeky wink, Tony with his cocky smirk and his strong hands. It was for Tony that Steve would do anything.

“When I was a young boy,” Steve said suddenly, his eyes boring into Tony’s and completely ignoring the notecards that they’d all worked so hard on, “it was illegal to be gay. It was illegal, both morally in the eyes of society and lawfully wrong, to love who you fell for regardless of their gender. I mean, we knew gay men – I think everyone in Brooklyn knew a gay person, actually – but it still wasn’t allowed. Growing up, we lived near a bar that they would frequent and we had to deal with the nightly raids from the police and the beatings from the public. The bar got trashed frequently, burnt to the ground once. I remember that because the smoke gave me an asthma attack so bad I had to go to the hospital and Buck nearly went mad with trying to pay the bill. But the beatings were the worst. One man on our block got dragged out of his house late one night and we never saw him again, all because he fell in love with the man across the street.”

Steve swallowed and began to turn the cards over in his hands, running his fingers along the edges of the paper as he got lost in the memories.

“All he did was fall in love and he lost his life. The wrong people found out about him and his partner and that was it. They never got to grow old together. Never got to do anything together. I grew up being told that it was wrong, that being gay was bad. I can’t tell you the number of times that I was told I was going to hell if I so looked at another man. It was everywhere. For a society that condemned being gay, they sure talked about it a fucking lot. I was told it over and over again, told to hide away and pretend that I wasn’t broken.”

Steve sniffed and pressed his lips together, his back subconsciously straightening as his tone began to grow in strength. “But I couldn’t help it; I couldn’t help the way I felt. It was so hard to try and figure out what I felt, what I wanted to do, or who I wanted to be. I was told that I should hate the way other men made me feel, told that I would burn for eternity if I so much as imagined the feel of another man’s lips on mine. I couldn’t tell anyone what I was battling with for fear of being attacked. And it wasn’t even that I would just have been shunned; I may have been out-rightly killed. Even my best friend knowing would have put him in danger for his own life, if he’d have covered up my own sexuality. There were watchers, you know. There were actually people that went into known homosexual hotspots and pretended that they were gay just to catch people out and lead them off to be beaten or threatened. You have no idea what it was like. None of you will ever know, and I hope to God that you don’t have to experience that.”

There was a stunned silence: all chatter had died out and no questions were being shouted forward as the entire room hung on every word falling from Steve’s lips. Steve took a moment to try and breathe and he dropped his gaze down to his notecards to try and get back on track. It didn’t work too well as he was still struggling to read the words that he had thought the cards depicted.

“In the war things were slightly different,” he said, a little lighter, a little less wobbly. “There was a lot less worrying about men sharing a bed when they might die the next day and when they were all in a different country to their wives and girlfriends. It was almost seen as manly to want to hug your comrades, to get that tiny bit of comfort before you sacrificed everything and more. There was nothing remotely feminine or weak about a man that stared down enemy fire with his head held high, even if he went home to another man and got fucked up the ass.”

There was the smallest snort and Steve felt his lips twitch. Of course that was Tony; always the first to break the tension in a room. It did work, though, Steve had to give him that. There was a glimmer of hope shining before Steve and he reached for it.

“But things are different now. There are still people who won’t let others be happy, ones who try to dictate the lives of other people even though it has no bearing on their own lives, but they’re being drowned out. It’s slow and it’s tiny, but it’s there. I don’t want to live a lie anymore. I don’t want to hurt people around me by hiding who I am and projecting years of programming. I’ve spent so many years in the shadows, so many nights pushing people away and spitting on them when I should have been holding them close and letting myself feel.”

Once again, Steve caught Tony’s eyes. Reaching out for that endless comfort, Steve ignored the cameras and the reporters scribbling frantically as he spoke straight from the heart, saying the words he’d always wished he could.

“I don’t want to not be who I am anymore; who I want to be and who I know I am inside. I want to love another man, I want to raise a family with him and be able to walk down the street without fearing for my life or his. I want to pave the way for the next generation, for kids to see and know that this world is a safe place for them to be true to themselves. I’m still working out my own feelings and I don’t want people to have to go through what I did.”

He could feel his throat tightening again, but this time he didn’t feel like he was going to be sick. It was a weird feeling, almost a sort of excitement.

“I tried to force myself to live the life that was accepted by the society that I lived in, but it made me so low that I… I did something that I maybe shouldn’t have done, but something that felt right in the moment. But it did bring me here. It brought me to a world that I can help to change, to a time that needed someone to lead the way. Maybe I’m not the best person for the job and maybe I’ll only make more mistakes by trying.”

Steve broke off and clenched his fists, screwing up the politically-correct and coherent notes still clutched in his hands. He carefully unfurled his fingers as he breathed in and out, relaxing himself until he felt the tension ease out of his forearms, preparing himself for his grand finale.

This was it. This was the moment he’d dreamt of for as long as he could remember. He lifted his chin and looked around the room, pausing to make eye-contact with a lot of reporters so that they could see the truth he was projecting and the confidence he longed to show.

“Thank you all for being here today. My name is Steven Grant Rogers. I am Captain America, and I am gay.”

#I wrote a thing #a may medley #stony fic #1930s homophobia #period-typical homophobia #tw: homophobic violence #stony fic rec #stevetony fic #Steve Rogers #tony stark #stevetony fic rec #stony au #coming out #captain america #tw: discussions of homophobic violence

208 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

enjoy your stay - chapter twelve

A/N - I don’t put links in anymore so that this comes up on search, but check my masterlist linked in my bio for links to every previous/future chapter.

Word count 2.9k. This chapter is the tiniest 100 words shorter than they normally are, but that’s because chapter 13 is pretty...full on. I will almost definitely be updating again this week as a celebration for 300 followers, so watch this space! There’s more coming very soon...

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER TWELVE ↳You confront Taehyung about him and Jimin, but his reaction is unexpected. You navigate some boundaries with Jungkook, but he has one condition. You go to Yoongi’s office to show off your budget, and he makes an impulsive decision.

“You look lovely.”

You glare at him; having forgotten you were wearing a work uniform in a black-tie event. “Shut up,” you mutter irritably. “When did you take that photo?” Your voice is more vulnerable than you had intended, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Shortly after I arrived in town. I was testing out the zoom on my new rig and I saw you in the parking lot. It’s a good shot.”

A waiter passes with a tray of champagne flutes and your fingers twitch. As much as you wanted to, you still had to drive back after this. “Isn’t that, like, illegal? Taking a photo of somebody without their permission?”

He runs a hand through his perfectly tousled hair with a clipped sigh. “I didn’t realize you’d be so opposed to it. You should be honored that I chose your photo for my final project. I had hundreds to choose from, you know. And I’ve had three different offers to buy a print of it. Like I said, it’s a good shot.”

“Okay, Steven Spielberg, I get it.” Now that he keeps insisting on it, you can kind of see the twisted flattery of the situation. “Don’t I get a print, then? Since it’s my eye.”

He gives you a cheeky grin. “Sure. It’s going for $250.”

You let out an incredulous cry, but you can’t help your lips from quirking up. “Fuck you,” you spit out, but there’s no malice in your tone.

“Hey, now,” his hands come down on your shoulders, head leaning in closer to whisper, “please don’t show up at my place of work with such foul language. I’m sure you’d hate if I did the same to you.” His eyes twinkle mischievously.

You desperately try to quell the grin spreading across your face, but one thought drops it in a split second. “I was the one, back then.”

He blinks, confused smile playing on his lips. “What?”

You clear your throat. His warm palms on your shoulders, burning through the fabric of your blouse are the only things keeping you anchored. “That night, in your hotel room. Namjoon asked me to go sort out a noise complaint. Jimin was there.”

He sobers instantly, eyes staring out to middle distance, probably recalling the door you slammed on your way out, before he catches himself and looks back down at you in pity. “Oh, Y/n…”

“It’s… It’s fine if you two are a thing, you know. I don’t have any right to, uh, to stop it.”

He bites his lip thoughtfully, glancing around the room, then slides a hand down your arm to curl around your elbow. “Let’s go to the backroom,” he mutters, “we can have a little more privacy.”

You obediently let him lead you out back, to a cramped space filled with covered canvases and boxes of materials. There’s a dirty sink with dried-up paintbrushes in one corner, and a couple of odd chairs and stools in the other. The plastic linoleum is splattered with decades-old paint, and the air smells of turpentine. The distant noises from the party are cut off when he closes the door behind you.

“Jimin told me about everything,” he begins, sitting tiredly on a wooden stool. Even with his expensive clothes and ostentatious accessories, he still fits in with the room, and you’re taken by how graceful he looks among it all. “Everything that went down between you two. He felt like you weren’t willing to give him a chance. He called the hotel directly and was put through to my room. He explained it all, then asked me if I was willing to comfort him.” He scratches at a burnt ochre smudge on the rounded edge of the stool, ignoring the pigment getting caught under his fingernail. “It upsets me that he did it to get at you, not because he actually liked me. If I’m honest with myself, I knew it when he was calling me. I guess I could’ve just hung up, but… It’s hard to say no to Park Jimin, you know?”

You did know. You grabbed a seat of your own, an old metal school-chair that wobbled every time you shifted your weight. “Dammit. I wish I could be angry at you.”

He scoffs good-naturedly. “I watched a movie once. Three women getting back at the man that cheated on all three of them. Instead of being angry at each other, let’s team up.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully at the suggestion.

“I think I remember that movie. Cheesy Hollywood chick-flick. I didn’t take you for the type to watch cheap comedies. I always assumed you would be the one to have a binder dedicated to Kubrick’s moon landing theory and cry about the golden age of cinema being over.”

He tilts his head innocently. “Oh, what about me could possibly draw you to that conclusion?”

You raise your eyebrows pointedly. “It seems redundant to answer that.”

“Fair enough,” he allows. He straightens up. “Hey, shouldn’t you be at work?”

You nod. “I got sent on a mission from the Better Kim. He wants me to convince you to sell your pictures to the hotel.” “Ah, you can have them,” he waves a hand dismissively.

“Really? Namjoon seemed pretty happy to pay. Surely you’d want to take the opportunity to make some money off of your hard work?”

He sends you a quick wink. “The beauty of the digital age is that I can print out more copies again and again until the day I die. I’ll be making money off these bad boys forever, I can afford to give Joon a set for free.”

“You punk. You business-savvy punk.” You get up off your chair, sick of the unsteady leg. “If that’s settled, then I only have one more question.” He rolls his eyes when you pause for dramatic effect. “How are we gonna get back at Park Jimin?”

You’re surprised that Namjoon doesn’t comment on how long you’ve been gone when you finally do return. Once you announce that his little brother is willing to give over the prints, he probably assumes that you spent those two hours trying to convince him, and you feel no need to correct this presumption.

You find yourself able to smile at Jimin again when you do your rounds in the lobby, no longer feeling like he’s got one up on you. Of course, he doesn’t know what’s coming to him yet, but he gives you a surprised but jolly wave back nonetheless.

Hobi is uncharacteristically subtle about the whole thing and doesn’t question you about the drastic twists and turns your attitude about Jimin has gone through.

Jin has left a little saucer with a couple chocolate eclairs on it when you stop by the kitchen, and beside it is a little note with a pun about how you were ‘sweet enough’ on it. Your mood had lifted quite a bit from when you had left home that morning, but more importantly, you felt more clarity than you had in a long time.

You made your way to the bar last, knowing you might be a while. Jungkook had his glasses on today, little round lenses with a gold wire, which meant he had been studying at work again. His expression automatically brightened when he saw you, but then he settled back into a pout and rubbed at his tired eyes. You noticed with a pang of guilt that they were still red.

“Jungkook,” you say gently, sitting at the bar instead of coming inside it like you used to, “let’s talk.”

His jaw shifts, and his eyes are downcast, but he nods.

You suppose you should’ve expected his sullen mood, but it still disappoints you. “I wanted to apologize,” you start, “not for the fact that Yoongi was over, because you still had no right to accuse me of anything, but for the way I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

He nods again, not saying anything. As you speak, he keeps lowering his head, tucking his chin into his chest, and you think you hear him sniff quietly.

“But we do need to take this as a sign that things are moving too fast. I like you, Jungkook, I really do, but you were right. We’ve gone about this all backwards. Sleeping together, moving in; those things should happen later in a relationship. You’re still young, and inexperienced,” he scoffs indignantly but you keep talking, “you are, and that’s okay, but it means that I have a responsibility to make sure you’re safe. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He makes a strangled noise in his throat, and when he looks up to reply, his eyes are glassy. “Noona, you aren’t taking advantage of me. I’ve never been happier.”

“Okay, Jungkook, but that doesn’t change things. I still need to be careful. If you want to be in a relationship with me-”

“Yes!”

You sigh tiredly at the interruption, but you can’t be angry at him. “If you still want to be in a relationship with me, we’re going to need to start from scratch. We need to go back to square one and take things slow, okay?”

He whines. “I don’t wanna take things slow.”

You try to bite back your clipped tone. “Well, it’s non-negotiable, Jungkook. Take it or leave it.”

He sniffs noisily and wipes his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. “So, you’re breaking up with me so that we can get back together again? That’s stupid.”

You hum, unamused. “What’s stupid is that you’re getting upset over nothing. I’m giving you a chance to do this right, or we won’t do it at all, okay?” You bite your lip, worried you’ve been a bit harsh on a boy who clearly just doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Jungkook, did you notice that you never once actually asked me to be your girlfriend? You just assumed, after we…” You clear your throat. “Technically we were never officially together, so I’m not breaking up with you.”

He blinks away his tears, more put-out than upset. “Still feels like it,” he mutters petulantly.

“Gah, stop with the pity party,” you tease lightly, “if you want us to be together, you have to ask me out like a real man.”

He blinks at you suspiciously, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes. “Noona, will you be my girlfriend?”

“No.”

He slams a fist on the benchtop. “Then what was the point of-”

“Ask me out, Jungkook. We have to go on a few dates first, get to know each other.”

He releases his fist slowly. “Noona, will you go out with me?”

“I’d love to,” you answer breezily, chuckling at the dramatic sigh that leaves his lips when you do. You get up from the bar-stool and brush the creases out of your pants. “Now, I’ve got to go, but you can tell me the time and date when you-”

“Noona, wait!”

You freeze. “Yeah?”

All of a sudden, he’s avoiding your gaze, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He laughs nervously. “Could I ask for a favor?”

You eye him suspiciously. “…I guess. It depends on the favor.”

He shrugs sheepishly. “I kinda, sort of, already told my parents I had a girlfriend, and that she was the one I moved in with.”

You breathe out slowly. “Okay…”

“And they want to meet you this weekend. I was going to ask you anyway, I didn’t… I didn’t realize you were gonna break up with me.”

You rub your hands over your face tiredly. He seems ready to defend himself, but you just nod in defeat. “Sure, okay. I do this one-time thing for you, and then you promise to take things slow and not be so possessive. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.” He waits until you’re almost at the doorway before calling your name out again. Once you turn around expectantly, he gives you a cute smile and puts on a voice. “I love youuu.”

Your mouth hangs open a little, and you want to tell him that it’s inappropriate, that he promised he would take things slow, but you just laugh incredulously, unable to stop the blush and flattered grin from taking over. That boy was too handsome for his own good. “Damn you, Jeon Jungkook.” He waves you out, battering his eyelashes.

You had been avidly working away at your budget since Yoongi had left your apartment mad that day, as if proof of your willingness to improve would cheer him up.

You knew the reason he was so upset with you, and it still struck you with a pang of guilt every time you thought about it.

You had acted like you and Jungkook weren’t a thing, and he had defended you, but then later walked in on the two of you sucking face like teenagers. It would be embarrassing if it weren’t so desperately unfortunate.

In your defense, you didn’t see Jungkook and you as officially dating then, and now you had confirmed it, but still, as you left work, telling Jungkook you were seeing an old high school friend, you felt that you were really walking the line here.

You had decided to go directly to Yoongi’s office to tell him. He hadn’t made any attempt at booking you in for a follow-up, and you doubted he would. The receptionist recognized you, and you only had to wait in the lobby for twenty minutes before he had a gap in his appointments, and she sent you up.

Yoongi looked comically shocked when you delicately rapped on the glass door of his office. His mouth hung open in a perfect ‘o’, his eyebrows went up and his eyes were blown wide. He composed himself by the time you sat down, however, and when he finally addressed you, it was with a low, businessman voice.

“Was my advice not helpful enough the first time?” he drones.

A little disheartened at his disinterest, you shake your head emphatically. “That’s not it, I just…” you trail off and root around in your purse, pulling out the freshly printed budget you had drawn up, slapping it down on his desk with a flourish. “I did what you asked, and I thought you’d want to see.”

He raises his eyebrows again, but this time in bemusement. The thought that he isn’t that angry at you eases a little pressure in your chest. “You thought I’d want to see? Do you think perhaps that I work in this industry because I just love staring at budgets?”

You purse your lips. “Well, no but- I wanted you to know that I’d taken your advice. That’s all,” you trail off awkwardly, casting your eyes down to his tiepin, unable to hold his gaze for long.

You hear him chuckle from the back of his throat, but he doesn’t crack a smile. “Hand it over, then.”

You shoot up in your seat and push the paper over to his side of the desk. He plucks it off the table reluctantly. After a few moments of dealing with his impassive gaze, you cough impatiently. “Is it any good?”

He presses his lips together and looks up at you from under his delicate eyelashes. “You spend $280 a week on your water bill?”

You frown. “No, that’s the monthly average.”

He rewards your stupidity with a wry grin, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “All of the amounts need to be for a set period, a week, a fortnight, a month. Otherwise you’ll get confused.”

You scratch your head, humming in agreement. “Oh, it definitely was confusing. Alright, I’ll change it. Anything else?”

“One thing,” he announces, tossing the sheet of paper carelessly onto the table, “I’ve never. Heard a budget be called ‘Mean Yoongi’s money table’ before.”

Shocked, you jump up in your seat like you’ve been stung, snatching the page off the table. You see in the top right corner, written in your ungraceful handwriting, the temporary title you had assigned the draft of your budget.

You realize, with dawning horror, that you had handed over the draft instead of the final printout. Dammit, you think to yourself, and I went to all that effort to put a pretty border on the actual budget only to give him the wrong one.

You screw up the paper into a ball and chuck it into his wastepaper basket, laughing nervously. “I’m sorry, sir, that wasn’t the actual budget.”

His eyes twinkle a little when you call him sir, and you hope that it’s enough for him to forgive you. He spins around a little in his chair and shuffles down a bit, resting his interlocked hands on his stomach. “I’ve decided,” he proclaims rather dramatically, “that I’m ready to cash in.”

“Cash…in?” you repeat uncertainly.

He grins at you, tilting his head to the side and letting his eyes wander over you. “Cash in on your generous offer.”

It still takes you a few moments, but when you get what he’s implying, your mouth drops open. You glance around his office. Glass doors and glass windows. “…right now? Right here?”

Suddenly his sly attitude is gone, and he straightens up, staring at you quizzically. “No,” he states like it’s obvious, “I’m taking you to my place.”

TAGLIST (send me a message or an ask to be added, and you’ll get notified every time I post a new EYS chapter).

@xxqueenwxtchxx

@fandomarchive00

@cvbachacbitch

@echimozart

@thisgirlis-shy

@sweetcheeksdna (I don’t know why your tag isn’t coming up, sorry!)

@boononx

@sweetlittleviper

@youngmsfts

#bts au #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fic #enjoy your stay #jin x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts imagine

176 notes · View notes

wolfhuntsmoon · 5 years

Text

New Stucky fic! Fic under the read more.

Title: Tell Me Like It Is Link: On AO3 Square Filled: N5 - Voice Kink - 1st square!! :) Ship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Romance Hand Jobs Voice Kink Light Dom/sub Enthusiastic Consent Snark i love you but damn you're a bastard Humor Grumpy Bucky Barnes

Summary:

Turns out, romancing Captain America is pretty hard.

Word Count: 1882

Created for: @mcukinkbingo - thanks so much for all your hard work guys, this is so much fun!

Bucky glances around the room one last time. It’s as perfect as he can make it: curtains pulled, candles glowing, table laid with their best crockery and crisp, starched linen. All he can do is wait, but the heavy feeling in his gut has him prowl back and forth between the table and kitchen island, agonising over whether to alter the place settings, or to adjust the vase of roses he’s bought, or whether he should just sweep everything away into the bottom of their closet and pretend he hasn’t spent the past several hours panicking over tonight’s surprise.

The scrape of the key in the lock jolts him out of his panicked musings, and he lunges for the door. A sharp twist of the knob allows him to yank it open first, and Bucky gasps out a breathless “Hi!”

Steve’s face morphs from surprise to pleased amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey Buck.” He steps in, crowding Bucky back against the wall, running his nose along the side of his neck. “You smell good. What’s the occasion?”

Buck flushes violently. He hadn’t thought Steve would pick up on the aftershave he’d dabbed on earlier, an afterthought at time. But now he can smell it too; clean and sharp with traces of amber darkening the scent. It smells like a guy who wants to impress, wants to luck out and end up in bed with his fella. Steve mouths over his throat, cutting off all Bucky’s higher brain functions as he does so, the bastard.

“Date night!” He grits out, voice closer to a squeak than he’d ever admit out loud. Goddamn Steve with his stupid face and warm chest, hands that feel as if they could cocoon Bucky. They make him want to forget all about the dinner in the oven.

“Date night?” Steve pulls back, confusion creasing his brow. “Since when do we have date night?” He raises a questioning eyebrow.

Bucky grins. “Can’t handle a little romance Rogers?”

“It’s been so long since I experienced any I’d forgotten you knew the meaning of the word.” Steve says, dry as the Sahara desert.

Bucky gasps, clutching at imaginary pearls and raising his other hand to his forehead as if he’s about to faint. “Steven Grant, are you accusing me of failing to woo you?”

Steve still looks stern as he speaks, but laughter draws out the broader vowels of his speech. “Is it an accusation if it’s already acknowledged to be true? Just yesterday you told me to knock off that, ‘lovey-dovey shit’!”

Bucky sniffs, spreading his arms wide, and looking through his lashes at Steve. He pouts a little, for maximum effect. “Because you were doing it wrong. Thought I’d give you a lesson.” He slides the tip of his tongue to the top of his lip, tracking the growing darkness in Steve’s eyes as they trace the route it takes.

Steve’s voice drops a whole octave when he next speaks, a bass rumble in Bucky’s ear as he leans forward to capture his mouth. “I’m listening, Buck.”

That rat bastard. Bucky can feel his well laid plans unravelling already, the liquid tones of Steve’s voice weakening Bucky’s knees. The kiss starts light, tongues tracing the bow of his lips, Steve’s nose nudging his, the hot press of his palms against Bucky’s back a brand sparking a fire in his gut. Steve deepens the kiss, and it’s all Bucky can do to stay upright. He moans, ragged. Heaving a breath in, he attacks Steve’s mouth, shoving forward to wind his arms around Steve’s neck, curling his fingers in the blond’s hair. All too soon he has to pull back and drag in badly needed air, clutching at Steve’s shoulders.

Steve’s by no means unaffected by all this, but the sly son of a bitch knows he’s got the upper hand in this game they’re playing, and knows how to keep it too. Which he proves when he drops his head to murmur against the shell of Bucky’s ear. “You look so good baby doll, in that sweater. All soft and homey. Like a little pet, waiting for me, hoping I’ll pay you some attention when I get back.” Steve’s breath is hot and damp on his skin, tickling the fine hairs there in the most maddening of ways which shouldn’t turn him on. But does anyway. Because it’s Steve.

Bucky isn’t interested in pretending to be a dog, or cat, or rabbit, or any of the other myriad animals he knows people on the internet include in their sex games. He really doesn’t give a shit.

Except when Steve’s voice, dark and sinful, breathes thoughts like smoke through him, wrapping around his mind, enveloping everything in a hazy cloud, obscuring everything Bucky thought he knew about his preferences. He whines, low in his throat, and sucks a mark on Steve’s exposed collarbone in revenge. It won’t last more than a few hours but it’s the best he can do under the circumstances, the circumstances being one Captain Smug Bastard steamrolling over every well laid plan Bucky’d concocted for tonight with the raw power of his lips and tongue and teeth.

“What’s that baby?” Steve’s voice grows rougher, a rumble rolling out the ends of his words so they slur together, and Bucky is going to have a heart attack if this doesn’t stop soon. He realises that he’s hard, and pressing against Steve, hips shifting in small, jerky motions, seeking relief.

“I-” He begins, gives up. Bites Steve’s shoulder again resentfully. No-one can shut Bucky Barnes up except this punk, and boy does the big lunk revel in it. Steve chuckles, and the viciousness of it has Bucky rolling his hips harder. “You!”

Steve grins against his skin, hands running down his back to fondle Bucky’s ass and tug him further into the cradle of Steve’s hips.

“Shh, I know baby, it’s okay.” Steve drops his tone to a velvet whisper, the rasp of the sibilants sending a shudder up Bucky’s spine and further removing his legs from his conscious control. “Let go and let me make you feel good. Romance, right?”

The brief flare of outrage Bucky feels deep, deep in his soul at this palooka’s commandeering of his carefully laid plans is eclipsed by the bass gravel now emanating from Steve’s chest. It’s like drowning in syrup, so sweet and sticky that Bucky can’t move but doesn’t want to anyway, content to stay and suffocate so long as he gets more. He chokes out Steve’s name, and some wretched cry that’s not even half a word because Steve shushes him again before he’s done. The soft susurrations tremor against his lips as Steve closes in for another kiss, gentler this time but no less devastating.

“You’re so good for me Buck, so pretty and thoughtful.” Steve breathes as he draws back, letting Bucky grind against him, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the electric contact between their groins.

“My perfect boy.” Bucky closes his eyes, Steve’s speech winding down his spine and twisting in his gut, uncompromising steel behind the honeyed waterfall of sound. He twitches his hips faster, chasing the gathering heat in his belly. “So beautiful, when you can’t hold it together anymore.” A hand unzips his jeans and tugs Bucky’s cock out into the cooler air, the shock of the temperature change making him whimper.

“That’s it, there we are, good boy-” Bucky cries out at the twin sensations of Steve’s hand around both their cocks - when had the sneaky son of a bitch managed that? - and the raw desire he can almost taste in Steve’s tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Buck? God, you’re so gorgeous for me like this, so good, letting me do what I want…” The careful control Steve maintains of his accent slips now, letting the Brooklyn tough peek through, and Bucky can’t get enough of it, clawing at Steve’s back as he continues stroking them both, heavy and insistent. “I swear on all the saints, Buck, you could turn the Devil himself, the way you look.” His voice is more strained now, new notes of urgency bleeding through as they writhe against each other, but every syllable winds Bucky higher. He’s beyond words now, keening high and thready in the back of his throat, bared for Steve to pepper kisses on between the streams of praise falling from his lips.

“Never want anyone to see this, never want anyone to know you’re so sweet for me, that you’re mine, my good boy, my perfect boy...” The cascade of words sweeps Bucky away, has him crashing over the edge with Steve in a blinding fit of pure pleasure, unspooling the coiled tension in his stomach that’s been lurking there since he started getting ready.

They pant together, inches away from the front door still. Steve kisses the damp patches on Bucky’s temples, grabs a tissue from the dresser and wipes them both down. Bucky groans, oversensitive and still turned on, wanting to flinch away but also pounce on Steve and tumble him to the floor for round two immediately. Only the thumb drawing featherlight circles on his cheek distracts him enough that Steve’s done, tucking him back into his jeans, expression proud and pleased and possessive all at once. It makes Bucky feel like a whole mine of diamonds, hidden and precious. No-one gets to see Steve like this except him. No-one gets to have this part of Steve, the part that looks at him like a wolf looks at a deer, starving and wanting.

Bucky draws a deep, shuddering breath; wills his legs to support his weight again. The chime of the oven timer interrupts his internal pep talk, and he wobbles from the wall to extract the casserole from the main shelf.

Steve stalks him, hunter after prey. “Smells good,” he offers.

The echo of earlier sends heat to Bucky’s cheeks. “It’s as close to your ma’s recipe as I could get,” he mutters.

Steve’s inhale is audible behind him. Hands snake around his waist and a ridiculously square jaw comes to rest on his metal shoulder. “Thank you baby,” he says, slow and serious, “you’re so good to me. So thoughtful.”

Bucky sighs, lets himself be turned to face Steve, accepts the sweet kiss the blond presses to his lips. “My good boy.” The weariness and care Steve tries to hide is in full view now, weighing down his words, but the warmth of his delivery has happiness fizzing in Bucky’s chest. Steve’s let go for once and for all now, no hiding, just as Bucky wanted.

“Come on Stevie. Pull up a chair and take a load off.” Bucky says, deftly serving them both the stew in big bowls, thick slices of wholemeal loaf perched on the side. It only take a moment for them to be seated, the pristine white of the tablecloth a perfect backdrop for the vibrant colour of the meal. Steve hums in delight with the first mouthful, and Bucky feels utter contentment then, sinking deep into the marrow of his bones.

Steven. G. Rogers might be a sly, scheming, silver tongued bastard, but he’s Bucky’s bastard.

And Bucky wouldn’t change a single damn thing about him.

#mcu kink bingo #heed the rating #here be sex and SHENANIGANS #although bucky would like to steve to just SHUT UP and let the romanance FLOW ROGERS #my fic #captain america #steven goddamn rogers #and the one and only bucky fucking barnes #stupid stoic supersoldiers

34 notes · View notes

crystaiskiess · 5 years

Text

Blinded with Love

AO3 Link Summary: In order to be Phil's friend there were two essential rules 1) They must have a good dose of sarcasm And more importantly 2) they most completely and absolutely cannot treat him differently for being blind

Author’s Notes: This fic was written for the phandom big bang! It was a hard journey and I hope you guys enjoy the result

Check out the incredible art done by @cas-tellation!!!

Artwork

Nothing sucked more than your closest - read: only - friend being away from school. Arguably he had more than one friend, mostly because Phil had a lot of acquaintances, some might call themselves his friends but he had two requirements for such a feat.

1) They must have a good dose of sarcasm

And more importantly 2) they most completely and absolutely cannot treat him differently for being blind, this was essential.

The second requirement disqualifies almost the entirety of his year level, minus PJ, which brings Phil back to his original point. PJ being away, completely and utterly sucks.

He was sitting outside where there was always empty seats available, and because he enjoyed the way the cold air nipped at his skin. He ran his fingers over the small bumps of his book, reading about Elizabeth Bennet and her crazy family in Pride and Prejudice with a small smile. This book never failed to make him feel relaxed and amused, there was something about the way life used to work in those days that made him laugh. A crunch of gravel drew him out of his thoughts, someone huffed in what seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion but it was impossible to tell without an expression to match.

“Fuck I’m here half an hour early,” the voice groaned, Phil didn’t recognise it but that didn’t necessarily tell him anything, it was hard to place all the names and voices in his year level let alone the entire school. He allowed a small chuckle as the boy flopped onto the bench seat, clearly unaware of Phil sitting right there. Phil felt the bench bounce slightly as the voice, which sounded male, started in shock.

“Oh shit sorry I didn’t see you there,” the person apologised with an awkward laugh, “I’m Dan Howell, I’m new here.” There was an awkward pause where Phil tried to guess whether or not Dan was waiting for a handshake, eventually he settled with a hope that he was indeed not doing so, and prayed that he was correct, yet another reason he needed PJ to be there.

“I’m Phil,” he introduced himself with a smile, hoping he was looking in the correct direction, “is this your first day?”

There was a long pause and Phil internally cringed, realising Dan must have nodded, “erm yeah, I just moved here from Reading,” Dan added, confirming Phil’s suspicions that he had nodded.

“Oh cool! Do you know anyone here?” he asked as he closed his book, sliding his hand along to where he knew his bag was so he could put the book away. He heard Dan huff a laugh of disbelief, Phil could imagine an awkward neck scratch which he executed many a time accompanying it.

“Nah, I’ve only spoken to you,” Dan’s voice betrayed a slight wobble, which Phil guessed meant he was nervous, not that he could blame him, first days must be hard.

Phil grinned at him, “Awesome! You can hang with me then, my friend’s away today so I needed someone anyway!”

Phil could hear the smile in Dan’s voice as he responded, “Really?” Phil nodded and he felt Dan bounce with excitement, “That’s so great ah thank you so much,” he rambled, “I struggle so much on first days it’s just so difficult to make friends when you’re an awkward lanky teenager with no social skills you know?”

Phil laughed loudly, “I totally get it,” he replied with a smirk, gesturing to his own lanky form. Dan giggled in response, Phil could hear that it was muffled behind a hand and he smiled warmly. “So first day huh?” He continued the conversation, tucking his bag beside his foot and leaning back so he could face Dan properly as he knew it made people more comfortable, “What’s that like?”

Dan made a noise somewhere between disbelief and a groan of annoyance, “You’ve never had a first day?” He asked.

“Not since nursery,” Phil shrugged, “my whole year level moved together.” He smiled softly at the jealous whine Dan emitted, it sounded like he had buried his face in his hands.

There was a slightly muffled sigh and then Dan responded saying, “It usually sucks, no one talks to me,” Phil felt his face slip into a small frown as Dan’s tone turned dejected and slightly broken, “I’ve moved schools a lot I’m kinda used to it,” Phil could hear the self deprecating smile in his words as Dan shuffled on the bench, his shoes scuffing the gravel around.

“Well I’m talking to you,” Phil offered with a weak smile and some cheesy jazz hands, he listened with a brighter smile as Dan laughed again.

“Yeah you are,” Phil could hear the grin in Dan’s voice, “but that’s unusual.”

Phil laughed, leaning back on his hand and winking “That’s me, unusual Phil,” he grinned as Dan laughed quietly, his feet still shuffling the gravel floor.

“You own your originality though!” Dan complimented, Phil listened to the scuffles intently and guessed Dan was probably talking about the bright Steven Universe t-shirt he was wearing that day.

Phil shrugged with a chuckle, running a hand through his messy quiff, he was still adjusting to the new style but PJ assured him it was a definite improvement, “I guess so! Still, my originality has left me without a friend today until you,” he pointed out. Dan made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat, almost a huff.

“Works for me, it’s nice to have someone to talk to for once,” the other boy sighed, he sounded almost nostalgic, Phil wondered how long it had been since Dan made a friend. Perhaps he was a ‘one close friend’ person like Phil was, or maybe he was more of a ‘spread yourself around’ kind of guy. Phil suspected the former, Dan didn’t seem like a social butterfly.

“I can understand that,” he smiled warmly at the new boy, “So are you doing any of the Science subjects? I have a boring day and it would be nice to have someone in my class”

Dan responded almost immediately, “Yeah I have Psych second, with… Miss Mendie?”

Phil glowed with excitement, he had thought he would go lonely today but at least they shared one class together, “Me too!” he responded eagerly, hopefully not too eagerly.

That didn’t seem to be the case though as Dan sounded like he was bouncing as he responded, “Oh awesome! Here have a look at this and tell me if you’re in any of my other classes,” Phil listened as a bag unzipped and a piece of paper was thrust in his hands.

“O-oh I-” he started but Dan cut him off.

“Sorry it’s messy but I was in a rush when I got my timetable,” he chuckled. Phil wasn’t really sure how to respond, he looked down to his hands where he was holding the paper, how had Dan not noticed?

He opted for changing the topic instead, “It’s weird that you don’t have to go to that principal meeting,” Phil hummed, he thought of all the other new students who had joined the school over the course of the six years he had attended there, “Every other new student did.”

There was a long pause, a silence that stretched so long that Phil began to wonder if maybe Dan was miming something, or had just up and left, when suddenly an exclamation of, “OH SHIT” echoed through the courtyard. Dan must have been checking his phone, maybe emails? Or a text from his parents?

“I have to go to that! Fuck fuck fuck fuck thank you so much fuck fuck” Dan mumbled as he made a lot of scuffling noises, a zip of a bag made Phil realise he was getting up to leave, “Ah! My timetable! Did we have anything together aside from Psych?” Dan asked and Phil begun to stammer out an explanation when Dan interrupted again, “Nevermind sorry I have to go! I’m already late! I’ll see you in Psych?”

Phil laughed a little at the irony, calling out to the retreating footsteps, “See you then!”

~-~-~

To say Dan was having the best first day of his life would be the understatement of the century, he grinned to himself as he slipped into his seat first period. Still taken aback by the fact that he had managed to make a new friend within the first few minutes, something he had never achieved before. Even the teacher forcing him to stand and deliver an awkward introduction wasn’t enough to bring down his mood. Phil was one of the nicest people Dan had ever met, with laughing blue eyes and a bright smile he was the epitome of welcoming, combined with his friendly banter there was nothing Dan could be unhappy about.

There was something that confused him, the way Phil would occasionally look in slightly the wrong direction, and didn’t respond to any nodding or other non-verbal communication, but that wasn’t enough for Dan to really have any concerns, as he said, he rarely made new friends on the first day.

His hand twitched towards his phone, it was digging into his side through the side pocket in his jeans, “probably not the best impression to make on my new teachers,” he mumbled to himself as he opened his text book with a sigh. The urge to text Louise, his childhood friend from home, and tell her all about Phil was incredibly strong however. He opted instead to doodle horrifically drawn stick figures on the side of his page, keeping his ears listening to the teacher.

Mr Marshall was a balding thin man who appeared to ramble often and didn’t seem to notice students listening to music and chattering at the back of the classroom. He continued to drone on, and Dan felt his eyes grow hazy as he listened, man this guy was boring. He found himself thinking more about his interaction with Phil instead. The boy was a beacon of light, he had seemed ridiculously eager to invite Dan to sit with him, which was surprising since Dan figured someone as caring and fascinating as him should have had loads of friends. Not that Dan was complaining, he was more than happy to sit with Phil that lunch period, and as many in the future as he would be allowed in all honesty. In fact, he was already watching the clock in anticipation for the next period. Maybe it was the excitement, or the longing to talk to someone but the clock seemed to tick slower than usual.

Twenty minutes and thirty two seconds to go.

Thirty one seconds.

Thirty seconds…

~-~-~

Phil stared in the direction of the door, he could have sworn this was the class Dan had said they shared. Maybe he had heard wrong, it had happened rather quickly in the end, and Dan had showed him the timetable but Phil hadn’t had time to explain before the other boy had taken off to his meeting.

He shrugged and listened in interest as the class bustled around him, people scraping their chairs along the ground, presumably to chat with their friends before the teacher arrived. Chatter echoed around the room and Phil sat in silence, his fingers tracing shapes on the desk absentmindedly. He didn’t mind the silence, finding a familiar comfort in trying to differentiate between the voices of his peers, however with the uncomfortable voice in the back of his mind telling him that Dan was in the room but had decided sitting with the blind kid wasn’t worth it he was struggling to find his usual enjoyment.

He sighed in disappointment as the teacher announced her presence, hoping that maybe he had misheard Dan and they actually shared an English class, not a Psychology class. Deep in his mind he knew that he hadn’t misheard but he shoved that knowledge away and focused his attention on the class. Psychology was one of Phil’s favourite classes, his teacher was an energetic and fun lady who bounded around the room and made every part of the brain seem like an adventure with the way her booming voice excitedly told them new facts. PJ had informed Phil that she was a short lady, which amused Phil because she had so much energy he didn’t see how it could fit in a small person, she achieved it nonetheless.

“Alright you crazy kids who remembers what we learnt last lesson?” Miss Mendie asked and Phil smiled to himself, settling into his chair and trying to force his brain to forget about Dan, he still had PJ and that was enough for him.

As he accepted that thought there was a soft knock at the door, Phil listened as the class froze in their movements, presumably looking in the direction of the door as he now was. A murmur ran through the class, too quiet for Phil to hear what they were all saying but loud enough that he could hear the confusion in their tone. He huffed in frustration as he waited to be filled in, this was why he needed more friends.

“Alright alright you chatterboxes!” the teacher regained the attention of the class with ease, Phil could imagine her huge arm movements and bright smile as she silenced the classroom, “We have a new student joining our class! This is Daniel, or Dan?” She asked and Phil grinned as he realised his new friend had been late.

“Dan is fine,” Dan mumbled in his posh southern accent, and Phil tried to send him a reassuring smile, hoping it was in the correct direction.

He could hear the smile in Miss Mendie’s voice as she said, “Righto! Dan it is, be kind to him!” She said with a teasing lilt to her voice, Phil imagined her wagging a finger at them, “There’s an empty seat next to Mr Lester; Dan why don’t you pop there?”

The class continued to buzz, a soft murmur like the hum of a bee’s wings, Phil listened as Dan moved through the classroom, mumbling apologies and scraping past chairs. Waiting for the tell-tale scrape of a chair being pulled back and Dan collapsing into it with a “humph.”

Phil turned towards Dan and smiled at him reassuringly, being the new kid was hard enough Phil couldn’t imagine being late to a class on top of that, “Hi,” he whispered, taking the continued chatter of the class to mean Miss Mendie hadn’t resumed teaching.

“Hey,” Dan responded and Phil could hear the relieved smile in his voice, “seriously some of the teachers here can’t catch a hint fucking hell!”

Phil hummed in agreement as he twirled his pen in his fingers, unable to keep the relieved smile off his face that Dan was here, talking to him, “Who did you have?”

Dan made a low groan noise that sent Phil into a fit of giggles, “Mr Marshall,” Phil snorted and he could feel Dan glaring at him, “Stop laughing he was so boring! Then he took me through everything you did this semester, as though I wasn’t at another school doing the same thing,” at this point Phil was laughing so hard he had to cover his face with his hand to hide his tongue poking through his teeth.

“Did he speak in third person?” Phil managed to get out between giggles, and Dan made a gagging noise in confirmation, Phil could imagine him pulling a face as he laughed.

There was a thump which Phil assumed was Dan’s head being smacked against the desk and a muffled, “Yes and it was so annoying, why does he do that?” Phil shrugged as Miss Mendie called the attention of the class back to her, sending Dan a smirk.

There was something so fascinating about spending the class with Dan, listening to his sarcastic comments under his breath that Phil was certain he believed no one could hear. He also drummed his pens against his leg, a soft pitter patter that took Phil around fifteen minutes to identify. When the class came to a close Dan made an awkward coughing noise, his tone completely different to what Phil had been expecting. Instead of the loud brash, almost excited, sounding voice Phil had adjusted to, Dan sounded soft and nervous, “Hey…”

Phil looked in the direction of his voice, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “What’s up?” He could hear Dan fidgeting, his feet scuffing the carpet floor backwards and forwards.

“Did I do something?” Dan asked eventually after a long silence, “Everytime I try to tell you something in class, you completely ignore me. I understand if you don’t like me, it’s fine, but can you just tell me?”

Phil felt a pang of guilt as he listened to Dan, his voice was so small and insecure. He offered the boy a small smile and leaned down to his side, hand fumbling around for his cane, he could hear Dan start to walk away, clearly disappointed at his lack of response. With a click the cane flipped into its full length, revealing the long white stick that Phil used to navigate the school corridor. Phil frowned as Dan inhaled sharply and rapped the cane in the direction he heard the noise, he knew he hit his mark at the yelp Dan made in response.

“Don’t you dare feel guilty,” he stared at Dan pointedly, hoping he was glaring in the right direction.

“Jeez I can tick that off the bucket list…” Dan murmured after a few seconds of awkward silence, Phil could hear the small smile returning to his voice.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and moved the cane to the ground, feeling around for the edges of chairs, “What?”

“Get hit by a blind person’s cane,” Dan joked and Phil grinned, shaking his head he began to walk out of the classroom. He mimed ticking the air and his grin widened even further as Dan let out a loud peal of laughter. “You still ok with me sitting with you?” He asked, Phil could hear him walking along beside him, books clunking in his arms.

“Duh,” Phil rolled his eyes with a smirk as Dan let out a small whoop.

~-~-~

Dan could practically kick himself, it was so obvious! He watched as Phil’s cane glided along the hallway from side to side, informing him of potential threats and things to avoid. The way his eyes had quivered ever so slightly, always looking not quite at Dan exactly but slightly to the side, his lack of response when Dan didn’t say it verbally, he was so obviously blind that Dan felt like an absolute idiot. Admittedly Phil was the most upbeat person that Dan had ever met, his fun attitude and way he kept rapping Dan in the foot with his cane, was contagiously happy. He was clearly doing it on purpose, judging by the gleeful smile he had on his face. Dan shuffled along after Phil, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar halls as he followed the blind boy.

“So this here,” Phil pointed at the large opening where hundreds of students were gathering outside, “is the lunch area, we all sit around and some weird people play sport,” he nodded his heads towards the group of students kicking a football around their circle.

Dan nodded, his mind running a thousand miles a minute, “What do you do at lunch?” he asked curiously.

Students all around them were screaming and chatting, a group of boys all appeared to be working out together, winking at girls with every push up, Dan grimaced at the idea of it.

Phil shrugged, “Peej and I usually just talk, that’s my best friend by the way, he’s not here today. We sit over here, away from the football boys and the gym jerks.”

Phil slid onto a bench, snapping his cane into a smaller, more efficient size and laying it by his feet. He then turned towards Dan, his eyes ever so slightly looking to the left, “Okay fire away,” he delivered in a practised bored tone, a small nervous quirk in the corner of his lips.

Dan felt confusion wash over him, and he very eloquently responded with, “Huh?”

Phil shrugged again, scratching the back of his neck, “This isn’t my first time,” Dan’s cheeks heated at the intimate wording, “Everyone has questions and I’d like to get them over with now so we can be normal friends,” Phil continued leaving Dan in shocked silence.

“Oh… Were you born blind?” He finally asked, once the uncomfortable heaviness of the quiet seeped into him.

Phil shook his head, “I was in a bike accident when I was three, it destroyed my retinas and they couldn’t fix it,” Phil delivered the answer as though Dan had inquired about the weather, not his permanent vision loss, “I don’t remember a time where I wasn’t blind.”

“I’m so-” Dan begun, cutting off with a yelp as Phil kicked his leg out, striking him on the calf.

“Don’t apologise!” Phil glared at him, his striking blue eyes burning with stubbornness.

Dan shifted of the seat in discomfort, “right… Sorry,” he shuffled on the seat again as Phil chuckled at him.

“I don’t want you to apologise, it's the person I’ve always been and I’m happy with who I am,” he shrugged, eyes downturned despite not having to deal with awkward eye contact.

“Right… sorry,” he smiled slightly, kicking his legs back and forward to stop himself from being nervous, “so what’s your best friend like?”

Phil snorted, rolling his eyes to the sky, “He’s a dick but he’s also the best. His name’s PJ, we’ve been friends since nursery.”

“Woah, so did he meet you when you… when there was… when you were-” Dan fumbled for words.

“When I was already blind?” Phil supplied, a knowing laugh in his expression, Dan scratched at his arm in embarrassment.

He nodded before remembering Phil couldn’t see that, “erm yeah?”

Phil nodded, smirk still quirking his lips upward, “Yeah, but it never affected our friendship, that’s why we get along so well.” He seemed to say that pointedly, with the air of someone who had been disappointed by friends before, friends who treated him differently. Dan felt a surge of determination not to be like that. Phil was reeling Dan in, and he was okay with that.

“Well I don’t see why it should affect a friendship,” he said, and if his heart skipped a beat when Phil beamed at him, his whole face lighting up like a Christmas tree, he would never mention it.

~-~-~

5 YEARS OLD

Phil clung to the woman’s hand, it was sweaty and wrinkly, like the raisin his mum had found melting beside his bed because he hadn’t seen it. She had that same sickly sweet smell too, but Phil clung on anyway because he didn’t want to be left alone. He could hear the other kids shrieking with laughter and running around him, their feet making loud “boom boom” noises on the ground as they raced back and forth. He didn’t like school.

“Come on Philip, you can let go of me, I’ll be right here,” the old lady told him again, at least Phil assumed she was old, her words whistled a bit when she said them. He could imagine a hunched over old woman like the witch his brother described to him, with her raisin skin covering her whole face. The thought made him smile a little, he wished Martyn was here now.

He shook his head sharply, clutching her hand even tighter, ignoring the ugly squelch noise it made when he did that.

Suddenly a young British accent spoke up, “Why’re you holding onto her hand?” the kid asked, Phil jumped a little in shock, turning his head to try to locate the noise, “I’m here,” the voice said again and Phil swivelled slightly to face them.

“I’m scared,” Phil explained, his voice small as he ducked his head down.

The small voice made a “hmmmm” noise which bounced up and down as though they was nodding their head furiously, “You don’t need to be scared anymore,” the voice said with purpose - Phil’s dad had used that word and Phil liked it - “because I’m your friend now!”

There was a strange shuffle noise and then the kid said, “My name’s PJ!” there was a long pause that made Phil feel itchy and shy, before PJ spoke up again, “My mum said that when you hold your hand out people are meant to shake it, it’s how you make friends.”

Phil squeaked in fear as the old lady took her hand away from his and guided it towards a softer more squishy hand, the same size as his. PJ shook the hand and Phil smiled.

“This is Phil,” the lady said, she must’ve been telling PJ, “can I trust you to look after him?” Phil followed her voice and tried to hide the fear he was feeling, PJ let go of his hand and he felt lost. On an island in the middle of nowhere with nothing to show him where to go.

He let out a sigh of relief when his cane was placed in his hand, the long familiar metal comforting, he placed the large rubber ball on the ground and used it to locate PJ.

“Woah,” the word stretched out like a rubber band, “what’s that?” PJ asked, he sounded excited and Phil shuffled his foot back and forth in embarrassment.

“I’m blind,” he mumbled and when PJ made a noise of confusion he added, “I can’t see anything.”

Phil waited for the kid to run away, it had happened before, people who can’t see aren’t as much fun to play with. Instead PJ surprised him, one of the best surprises, like the bestest birthday present in the world, but not on his birthday, “That’s so cool!” PJ shrieked, making Phil jump backwards a little in shock, “You can’t see me at all?” Phil shook his head and PJ gasped in amazement, taking Phil’s hand in his, “That is actually awesome because that means I don’t have to play on the playground anymore, the playground is boring but you’re going to be my best friend.”

Phil followed in awe, tapping his ball along the ground to warn him of any possible dangers, PJ didn’t stop talking informing him of every little thing he couldn’t see, “There’s Melanie, she has poofy red hair and it’s amazing, oh wait you don’t know colours ummmmm, well her hair is like the taste of strawberry.”

~-~-~

PRESENT DAY

Phil woke up to a loud banging on his door, he groaned and rolled over. The bangs formed a familiar pattern, PJ’s morning knock, Phil sighed heavily and smushed the pillow over his head. “Go away!” He yelled, the noise muffled by the cushion of the pillow.

He heard PJ snort, “Are you decent?” was the only response and Phil groaned again.

“I’m only wearing boxers but- and you opened the door” he sighed, pressing the pillow further into his face, “leave me be, I’m wallowing in my pain.”

PJ laughed, leaping onto the bed and jostling his best friend, “Come on lazy pants, we’re going to be late again,” he said, very unsympathetically. Phil growled low in his throat and pulled the duvet over his head. PJ poked him in the side relentlessly, a cheeky laugh adorning his annoyance.

“Leave m’alone” he grumbled, voice scratchy and deep from sleepiness. PJ continued mashing his finger into Phil’s sensitive points, his stomach, neck, back, basically wherever could be accessed. Phil let out a loud huff, kicking his legs upward as he sat up, opening his eyes finally and mocking a loud gasp of shock, “Peej, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

Peej sighed heavily in response, making Phil smirk at his joke, “Never gets old buddy, come on get ready, we’re gonna be late.” He shoved Phil off the bed, Phil stumbled slightly, reaching instinctively for his cane before pouting at his best friend.

“No really mate, I think you’re going grey, I can definitely see some grey hairs there.” Phil smiled to himself as he finally managed to coax a laugh out of PJ. He ran his hand along the clothes, feeling for the familiar scratchy material of his uniform.

PJ flopped back on the bed, creating a whoomph sound, “Have you looked in the mirror recently?” Phil laughed, finally pulling his uniform out of the closet.

“Alright get out of here, you dick,” he waited until PJ closed the door behind himself with a clunk before he stripped off his pajama pants.

Almost twenty minutes later Phil slid into PJ’s car, folding his cane as he buckled the seatbelt, “We’re going to get there right on time,” PJ huffed, the car shifting into drive with a groan of pain. Phil shrugged, pretending to look out the window with an air of nonchalance.

“You’re trying to look all cool and mysterious but you’re not turning your head enough so you’re just staring at the wall of the car,” PJ snickered, “So what happened when I was away yesterday?”

Phil sighed returning his head to the direction of his friend with a grin, “I made a friend!”

PJ made a strangled disbelieving noise, his hand flicking the indicator, “We’re pulling into the carpark,” he dictated, after thirteen years together he knew his best friend well, “no way, I don’t believe you.”

“I did!” Phil gasped at the insinuation he couldn’t make friends, holding a hand to his heart as though he had been shot, “How dare you! I made friends with you didn’t I?” He pointed out and frowned at Peej’s snort of laughter as the car chugged to a heavy stop, “You need a new car,” he added while feeling for his seatbelt.

“First of all, how dare you Betty is the best thing in my life. Secondly, sure when we were five, and technically I adopted the sad, blind, kid.” The door slammed shut as PJ exited the vehicle, Phil pulled a face before following.

“You didn’t adopt me, and I did make a friend, his name is Dan,” they marched into the school, the bell echoing around their heads.

PJ made an impressed noise, taking Phil by the elbow, “Come on slowpoke, if we don’t get moving we’re gonna be even later,” he pulled them forward and around the halls.

~-~-~

Dan tapped his pen against his leg methodically, his palms slick with sweat, as his eyes scanned for Phil. He had seen him earlier, being tugged along by a dark haired boy with an uncanny resemblance to Dan himself, albeit more tan. They had marched past and seeing the boy, obviously PJ, Dan had frozen in fear, unable to speak up. He was semi grateful that Phil himself was blind and therefore hadn’t seen him, Dan the deer, staring into the headlights with statue like shock. What if PJ didn’t like him? Phil was, something else entirely, his own category of perfect.

Dan stifled thoughts of soft dark hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and a blinding bright smile. It wasn’t the first time Dan had gotten a crush, definitely not the first boy either, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow it to progress. Phil was his only friend in this school, hell, in this town, he wasn’t throwing that away with a stupid crush, no matter how beautiful he was, so very very beautiful… He shook his head to regain his thoughts, returning his eyes to their mission of locating Phil. He knew if he wanted to keep sitting with his friend this lunch he would need to spot him himself.

His eyes finally snapped on familiar dark hair and pale skin, Dan felt his heart tug towards him and he felt the urge to punch it, no feelings, he chastised.

“Hi Phil!” He called out as he jogged over, a pang of joy buzzing through him as Phil turned towards him with a bright grin, sightless eyes staring just slightly over his shoulder. PJ stared at him with an expression Dan struggled to read, it seemed to flicker between surprise, wariness, analytical and excitement.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed, his arm grappling behind him before gripping onto PJ and tugging him forward, Dan almost laughed at the shock on PJ’s face, but didn’t want to make that his first impression on the boy, “This is PJ, the best friend I was talking about,” Phil introduced.

PJ turned to Phil with a laugh, “We’re best friends? How’d I get stuck with you?” He teased, eyes glinting mischievously, Phil rolled his eyes, shoving PJ in the arm.

“Shut up you dick and meet our new friend,” suddenly Phil’s eyes darted over to Dan nervously, “you do want to be our friend right? I didn’t read this wrong? I do that sometimes and I-” Dan cut him off.

“Stop, yes I want to be your friend, I would… I would love it,” he tugged on his arm and stared at Phil and then PJ who was staring at him with that same expression. He stuck out his hand towards PJ, “I’m Dan.”

PJ’s expression softened slightly, although he still looked as though he was scanning Dan, picking apart the different fidgets and quirks of his soul, from the small curl that circled his ear, to the way his teeth were toying with his lip. Finally he took Dan’s hand, a smirk quirking at his lips, “PJ,” he said simply. Phil furrowed his eyebrows in PJ’s general direction - off by a few centimetres - before turning to Dan.

“So you happy to sit with us?” Dan made a humming noise of agreement, “Awesome! I just need to duck to the bathroom, I’ll meet up with you guys in a second,” he walked away, cane gliding along the ground and smile lighting up the corridor.

Dan only realised he was staring after him when PJ coughed, an amused smile pulling at his cheeks, “You ‘right there?” he asked, the smile turning more into a smirk as Dan’s cheeks flared up.

“Wha- yeah, yeah… I’m, I’m fine pfft I don’t know what… what, you’re talking about?” He stumbled over the words, tripping and slipping on them like a giraffe in the rainforest. PJ laughed softly, beckoning for Dan to follow him.

He had this aura around him that screamed, ‘don’t fuck with me but also dork is my middle name’, which was honestly more intimidating than a normal don’t fuck with me kind of guy.

“Now,” PJ begun and Dan scrambled to fall in pace with him, “Phil can hold his own, he may be blind but that doesn’t stop him being the greatest guy ever. He deserves real friends, and he seems to like you,” Dan blushed further at that, PJ raised an eyebrow knowingly, “and from what I can tell you like him too. So don’t be a dick basically,” he summed up, falling down on the same bench Dan and Phil had sat at the day prior.

Dan nodded, avoiding eye contact, “I won’t, I really like Phil,” PJ was staring at him, Dan could feel his eyes burning into the top of his head.

“Alright then, now you should know that I am basically Phil’s eyes, any faces you pull at him, any crazy bed head, I’ll let him know.”

Dan nodded in understanding, his fingers toying with a piece of string hanging off his uniform, “I’m not going to take advantage of him in any way,” he promised. PJ smiled brightly, any intimidating factor he might have had gone and replaced with a cheeky eyebrow raise, “also just because Phil’s blind doesn’t mean I can’t see you goggling,” he teased, leaning back as Phil made his way over, chatting to people politely, but Dan could see the uncomfortable wall he put forward, like a line of defence that he had never shown around Dan.

“Erm no thanks Emily, my taste isn’t exclusively blind people you know?” Phil chuckled awkwardly, chewing on the side of his mouth visibly. The girl, Emily Dan guessed, shrugged carelessly her blonde bob bouncing around her shoulders.

“If you say so!” She chirped cheerily, “Let me know if you change your mind!” Phil nodded, his face screwed up in discomfort as he continued walking towards Dan and PJ.

PJ sighed, rolling his eyes, “Emily at it again? Watch the rock,” He instructed as Phil’s cane swept past a rock unknowingly, Dan watched the two friends curiously. They had a natural comfort with each other, leaning into the familiarity like they had been doing it their whole life, and Dan supposed, they had. Phil sidestepped the rock with a clear trust, and shrugged, “She doesn’t seem to get that I don’t want to date her cousin,” he smiled in Dan’s general direction, “You’ll meet Emily eventually, she has a desperation to match everyone up and she’s decided her blind cousin is perfect for me. I’ve never even met the girl, not to mention she’s a girl,” he turned back to PJ at the end, clearly this was a discussion they had had many times before, judging by PJ’s knowing snort.

“You’re not ready to start seeing all the ladies Philly?” PJ teased, Dan froze in shock, turning to watch Phil’s reaction. There was a pause, before Phil groaned, throwing his head back and allowing the groan to morph into laughter.

“Yeah I don’t know they just don’t really catch my eye,” he grinned, clearly proud of himself for the guffaw of laughter that erupted from PJ.

He nodded proudly, a smirk twisting his mouth, “Nice one mate,” Dan was aware of his mouth hanging open in surprised laughter. He knew Phil was comfortable with his blindness, but he hadn’t realised PJ and him joked about it so openly.

Phil seemed to remember Dan was there and turned towards him, face still scrunched up with laughter and a hint of tongue poking through his teeth. A breath of air whooshed through him, swooping through his stomach and up into his chest, tingling like a soft drink had replaced his blood but warm like coffee. One thought pulsed in his mind, sending the blood in his veins pumping until it rushed in his ears.

Shit I have a crush on Phil.

~-~-~

Phil leaned over to PJ, the class chattered away around them, supposedly doing private study but for all Phil could hear it wasn’t likely. He tapped the table to get his friend’s attention, struggling to judge the gap between their two heads.

“What’s up?” Peej asked, Phil could hear his pen still scratching away at the paper, making notes for the lesson.

He wiggled his eyebrows, nudging PJ’s shoulder, “What’s he look like?” he could hear PJ snicker under his breath, this was a well rehearsed conversation they had every time Phil met someone particularly interesting.

“Who?” PJ asked with an faux innocence, Phil could practically see the laugh twisting his mouth. He groaned, nudging PJ with his side and snickering at the insulted gasp his best friend let out in response.

“Dan!” He hissed, raising his eyebrows to accentuate the point and making a big show of pretending to look around to check for eavesdroppers, “Is he as cute as he sounds?”

PJ was still laughing under his breath but Phil hurt the pencil clatter to the table so he knew he had won, “Yes he’s got curly brown hair that perfectly shapes his face, like seriously he’s exactly your type, perfect hair for curling through your fingers,” Phil felt his cheeks warm as PJ nudged him in the side knowingly. He was trying to deny the crush that was already developing on Dan, but it was hard when he was just so funny, Phil felt his whole body relax whenever he was around him, like Dan contained a soothing presence in his voice. PJ knew him better than anyone in the world, he knew exactly what Phil liked in a person.

“He has a really sharp jawline like damn,” PJ continued, Phil could hear his knowing smile, he was aware of the way Phil’s heart skipped at that knowledge.

“So essentially he’s perfect?” Phil sighed, slumping forward in his seat until his chin was resting on his hands. PJ huffed a laugh and Phil felt his hand pat Phil on the shoulder.

There was a pause before PJ said, “In terms of your type, yeah mate he’s perfect.”

Phil groaned in defeat, “I really like him,” he jutted out his bottom lip, “He’s so funny and easy to be around. It’s only been a day of knowing him, am I too cheesy?”

“Stop spiralling,” PJ commanded, flicking Phil on the ear to stop the thoughts, “Dan seems like a nice person,” a smirk made its way into PJ’s voice, “Why don’t you ask him to the formal?”

Phil gaped at his best friend, or at least he let his mouth hang open in plain sight, "Ask him to formal?" He confirmed and at PJ's hum let out a guffaw of laughter, "Are you completely mad?" At PJ's lack of response he plowed onwards, "Not only does that set me up for potential and likely rejection, but I could lose the second true friend I've made in my entire life!" He realised he was shouting and lowered his voice, "I like Dan..."

PJ sighed heavily, the noise was loud and laced with an assumed slump of the shoulders, "I think he likes you too Phil, not just as a friend either. You can't see it, but you're an attractive dude and Dan looks like he is interested."

Phil allowed this information to seep into his skin, he didn't want to get his hopes up but at the same time, that little shred of hope was tickling its way into his heart. There was just one problem, "He's probably straight," Phil groaned.

PJ laughed loudly, a proper heavy spout of laughter which caused murmurs throughout the rest of the class and forced Phil to look up from where he had slumped into his hands.

"He isn't straight buddy," Peej assured him, laughter still weaving its way through his words, "He is so definitely not straight."

So maybe he had a chance? The idea was almost two nice to imagine.

~-~-~

Dan found himself staring at Phil far more than he should be, his eyes seemed to be constantly drawn to the black haired boy. Especially his eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that couldn't see him staring, except PJ could and Dan was almost positive he was smirking at him. He drew his eyes back to his lunch with great difficulty, it was as though they were glued to Phil.

"I'm going to go get a drink," PJ informed the two, Dan had begun to pick up on this habit of announcing his doings so Phil never had to guess. Nothing to do with Phil's blindness was ever a big thing, it was always just slipped into conversation as a joke, or little actions that Dan and PJ would complete to make things easier.

If Dan was honest he was a little bit jealous of how at ease together PJ and Phil were, he was desperate to have that kind of ease and relaxation with another person. They just had this natural rhythm that they followed. Dan had noticed PJ describing funny situations that he was watching, Phil nodding along in amusement, it wasn't something either of them mentioned or talked about, but it happened all the same.

"So Dan..." Phil mumbled, Dan turned to him in surprise, Phil looked shy. His head was turned downwards towards the ground, as though he was trying to use it to gather courage, and his eyebrows were knitted in focus.

When Phil didn't continue his sentence Dan spoke up, "Yes?" he prompted.

Phil's mouth opened and closed nervously and Dan realised he was probably staring at his lips a little too much, he diverted his attention to his eyes - which probably wasn't much better.Phil mumbled something so quietly Dan only heard a hum of noise, "Pardon?" He asked and smiled as his friend's cheeks turned an adorable shade of red. Could Phil be called just a friend in his mind? None of his friends made him as flustered as Phil did.

He was thrown out of this train of thought by Phil repeating his question a little louder, "Do you want to go to formal with me?"

The world seemed to screech to a stop, "As a friend?" He asked to confirm, Phil looked even more embarrassed now, his cheeks were so red he could rival a tomato.

"It could be more than that... if you wanted I mean?"

This couldn’t be real, Dan could barely allow himself to even humour the situation, he must be dreaming, or misunderstanding. They’ve only been friends for a couple of weeks, and sure Dan had developed a crush on Phil almost instantaneously but that was irrelevant. There was no way Phil would do the same for Dan, not when Dan’s personality was so, well, lacking.

“Uh sorry, have I read this situation wrong?” Dan snapped out of his shocked state by Phil speaking again. He was shuffling from foot to foot, unseeing eyes downturned and embarrassed.

Dan stumbled over his words hurriedly, “No ah sorry I just- I just got shocked u-um,” he hesitated, unsure whether he was understanding what Phil meant correctly [CONT’ LATER]

~-~-~

Phil sat in the change room, brushing his feet backwards and forwards along the carpet, his sneakers trying to grip as he tried to relieve some awkardness.

“Okay so we want matching but not too matching?” Dan confirmed as he re-entered the change room, Phil listened as the curtain swished open and then closed again.

He nodded in confirmation, smiling softly as at least four hangers clinked onto the rack.

“Close your eyes,” Dan mumbled, and if the rustling of material was anything to go by he was taking off his shirt.

Phil let out a loud bark of laughter, “Seems unnecessary,” he smirked and relished in the sound of Dan’s bubbly laugh, despite being muffled from the inside of a shirt.

Phil closed his eyes anyway as his… friend? Boyfriend? As Dan emerged from the depths of his shirt, “It feels weird either way,” he pointed out and Phil shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” he replied easily, pretending that if he couldn’t see the blush steadily rising up his face then Dan couldn’t either; he shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful Dan probably looked. No, he wasn’t thinking about it, yes that should work.

“Okay so it fits me nicely but I think it’s a weird colour?” Dan mused, his feet scuffing the carpet as he turned from side to side, “It’s like a blue-ish grey, probably would suit you more.”

Phil hummed in response, opening his eyes to more black, “What did you get as the matching one?” Dan shuffled around, clicking the hangers together as he moved the other suits out of the way.

“It’s a darker blue, with grey highlights,” he told Phil.

Phil hummed in thought, taking the suit from Dan’s long fingers and holding it against his body, turning to show Dan the colouring, “You like?”

There was a strange hiccup noise, in between a gasp and a cough, “I like… um uh yeah I like very much,” Dan mumbled, Phil could practically hear the blush echoing through his words. He smirked and swished his hips slightly just to listen to the catch in Dan’s breath.

“Mmm okay sounds good,” he shooed Dan out of the room while he undid the buttons on the linen shirt, “I’ll try it on and show you,” he explained at Dan’s noises of protest.

From outside the curtain he could hear Dan grumble, “Why did you get to stay in the room?”

Phil snorted as he poked his head through the collar of the shirt, rolling his unseeing eyes to himself, “Because I can’t see you,” he offered and Dan huffed, trying to sound annoyed, but Phil could hear him chuckling.

Once he had fully dressed he stepped out of the change room with a flourish of his arms, throwing his head back dramatically. His smile widened further as he listened to the surprised bark of laughter Dan made at his antics.

“That really suits you,” Dan said softly, like he was speaking through a gasp, and then there was a pause before he snickered and mumbled, “suits you.”

Phil groaned, smacking Dan gently and rolling his eyes yet again, “That’s awful, never speak to me again.”

Just at that moment a pair of heels clacked into the room and Phil heard Dan swivel to face whoever was entering.

“Are you boys alright in here?” Someone asked; who Phil assumed was a shop assistant, “Those suits look amazing on you, are you trying to match your dates?”

The air seemed to be electrocuted with uncomfortable energy, “Uh,” was Dan’s eloquent response. Phil scratched at his neck awkwardly, he could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks.

How could they answer that question? Dan wasn’t his boyfriend or anything, if anything this suit shopping was a first date, a trial run, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable Dan was with being gay. Whether he felt safe enough to tell strangers or not, Phil certainly preferred to keep it to himself where possible.

Finally Dan spoke up with the most reasonable answer, “Yeah but these ones are perfect so we don’t need any help,” he sounded confident but Phil had a feeling that was an act. Was the hitch mid sentence just Phil’s imagination?

“Oh alright,” the assistant sounded almost disappointed but her shoes click clacked out of the room either way.

As soon as she rounded the corner Phil heard Dan dissolve into laughter, it escaped his mouth in loud wheezes, “That was perfect,” he snickered until Phil couldn’t help but laugh with him.

~-~-~

Dan pulled at the collar of his shirt, he squinted at himself in the mirror and shuffled the jacket around until it was a semblance of smooth; or rather slightly less wrinkled than before. His curly hair was slightly tamed into a fringe across his pale forehead. He certainly didn’t look bad.

But will Phil agree? His mind supplied.

“It doesn’t matter what I look like Phil can’t see it anyway,” he chastised his brain and fiddled with his hair a little more. Two raps on the frame of his door alerted Dan to his father’s presence before he was entering the room with a good humoured chuckle, “Stop fussing with your hair it looks great,” He instructed, pulling Dan’s wrist away so his hand was no longer mussing with the fringe.

Dan pouted at his dad and shifted on his toes nervously, “Do I look okay?”

His dad smiled proudly at him, straightening the suit so it sat nicer across Dan’s shoulders, “You look amazing,” he replied, genuine kindness laced through his words, “Now let’s get going before you’re late.”

The venue was incredible, how their school had managed to book a place like this was beyond Dan. Nothing was more amazing than Phil in that suit they picked though, he was standing with PJ, quiff too perfectly done to have been executed by the dark haired boy. They were laughing and Dan felt his heart skip two beats as Phil stuck his tongue between his teeth, blue eyes glinting and standing out against the grey colour of the suit.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the two boys, raising his hand to wave at them and grinning when PJ locked eye contact with him. He mumbled something to Phil and then Dan had that blinding smile facing him (almost facing him anyway).

“Hi,” Dan mumbled as he reached them, feeling a blush seep across his face as Phil intertwined their fingers with an enchanting smile.

PJ nodded with a smirk, “Hi dude,” he offered a one handed salute of greeting, “How’re you doing?”

Dan shrugged, squeezing Phil’s hand a little tighter, “I’m good,” he replied before correcting himself, “Excited.”

Phil tugged his hand gently to get Dan’s attention, Dan blushed heavier to find those unseeing blue eyes already looking at him, “It’s going to be okay,” Phil reassured him.

“I know,” Dan smiled back, stepping a little bit closer.

They walked in as a group when PJ’s date arrived, the inside of the ballroom was even more lavish than the exterior. The tall ceiling decorated with cherubs and flower petals, hundreds of students from their school danced across the white polished floor.

He found himself describing the room to Phi in all its’ glory as they walked in, it wasn’t even something he thought about anymore; only realising he was doing it when PJ smiled gratefully at him. He could almost imagine Peej handing him the final key, full trust of Dan to look after Phil, and that Phil would be there for him in return.

He smiled to himself, hoping Phil didn’t notice the slight stutter in his words as he thought about asking Phil to be his boyfriend

~-~-~

The night had been going incredibly, Phil couldn’t help but feel relaxed and safe with Dan. He wasn’t usually a massive fan of social gatherings like formals, because he felt guilty for keeping PJ from socialising. Dan was different, he didn’t really want to spend time with anyone else, he seemed content laughing and dragging Phil all around the room. Describing the horrific suits and dresses some of their classmates were wearing, telling Phil about the few successful fashion choices.

At some point they had made their way to a photo-booth, which was a total disaster but Dan had made this adorably soft gasp when he saw the photos and murmured, “We look really cute together,” so that was worth it.

After four hours they were huddled in the corner of the room, Dan was counting how many girls had taken their shoes off, cuddled into Phil’s chest and tracing circles on his knee.

“Be my boyfriend?” Phil blurted out, he felt Dan still on his lap, muscles tensing. A wave of regret washed over him, he was too sudden, Dan wasn’t ready, he was a disaster-

His train of thought was cut off by soft, chapped lips pressing against his temple and a soft voice whispering, “Yes please.”

Phil turned his head until he was sure he was facing Dan, “Okay,” he grinned, excitement tingling in his veins and cheeks flushed with nerves.

“Can I kiss you?” Dan asked, and Phil’s cheeks burned further still, he had to hope that Dan was just as flushed as he was.

“Yes please,” Phil replied, echoing Dan’s earlier sentiment , it felt like they were in a tiny bubble, the noise of their classmates and the music playing through the venue faded away as a gentle hand cupped Phil’s cheek. He felt those same lips press to his so gently it was like a feather brushing against them, he pushed forward, slotting them together until they were pushing and pulling together. Soft presses, harder, drawn out, sharp, the feeling left him dizzy and elated. They kissed until both of them were blinded with love.

#dan #phil #phan #dnp #phandom #phandom big bang #phandom big bang 2018 #blind #blind au #blind character #first kiss #pining #fluff #asking out #awkward boys

7 notes · View notes

oathkeeper-of-tarth · 6 years

Text

Vessel

Prompt: Pearl v/x? V. An abandoned/empty place. X. A flash of anger.

[prompt list]

Anon, you sent this prompt a while ago, and, well, you probably weren’t fishing for me venting my new episode feelings about half a year later, but here we are. Major spoilers for A Single Pale Rose. There is absolutely nothing happy about any of this. I got started on two ficlets, one of them was an attempt at a fixit-y “Rose makes sure to always ask, desperately trying to make up for the one time she didn’t” kinda thing, but that didn’t work at all and the mood was ultimately more like... this.

Summary: Rose is gone, but she’s left Pearl with something she may have forgotten to address. Set sometime after the flashback portion of Three Gems and a Baby. Pearl, Rose, and a pile of my suffering, ~1800 words.

---

Vessel

The palanquin is the same as she left it last time, save for a bit more of the inevitable, oh-so-Earthly growth over and around it. It never changes much, the place Rose keeps-kept trying her best to very deliberately forget, like she does-did with so many other things. But Pearl remembers everything with hologram-perfect clarity, and has never been very good at the game of pretending something didn’t happen.

The thought makes her stop her approach and shuffle in place, restless fingers playing against the skirt of her recent regeneration, fresh grass playing against her shins. Is that why Rose-? Is that why all the humans, all the time, one after another- because they couldn’t possibly have known, and Pearl was only ever a reminder, dragging them both down, whatever she did?

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

She goes to the Strawberry Fields to brood over their endless losses, and runs a wistful hand over the dulled edges of a halberd she remembers an old comrade wielding. Leaps up onto the floating islands to more easily recall the time when it seemed she and Rose were the only two Gems in all the world. When she feels like indulging in melancholy, she goes to the Galaxy Warp and sits on the edges of cold, cracked, eternally dim and lifeless warp pads, and looks up, up, up, into the now-unreachable.

And sometimes she comes here, where she knows she will never be anything but perfectly alone.

There is a breeze today, coming down the mountain, rustling those peculiar pink flowers. The sun sinking beneath the horizon casts it all into darker hues, purple and lavender in place of bright pink, just like- just like that night, when-

The words she’s never been able to speak are a bitter residue in the back of her throat. Her hands tighten into fists at her sides, arms stiff and kept resolutely still, even as she knows that, should they decide to betray her, no amount of resistance would help. But it’s worth a try, isn’t it? Now that Rose is... gone, now that nothing will ever be the same again, perhaps this has changed, too. Pearl takes a deep, unnecessary breath, and attempts.

“I-!”

She barely manages to make a sound before her own hand flies up and clamps over her mouth, the force of it making her stumble to her knees in the dew-covered grass.

By the time the hand relents, after all thoughts of Pink Diamond and I struck her down and she was never shattered at all and Rose is- Rose was- are thoroughly suppressed once again, it is drenched with tears.

The mounting feeling is in turns hot and cold, stabbing through where Pearl staunchly refuses to shapeshift appropriate human organs, and bubbling up into a single searing thought.

How could she do this to me?

Oh, it helps from very little to not at all, but it feels awfully good, sometimes, to just allow herself to feel wronged. And so easy, too, every time Rose leaves, like she does, like she now did, possibly forever - and leaves Pearl wondering, questioning, wallowing in her own apparent inadequacy.

Was I not worthy of the trust?

Trust- trust is faith in another, and an exchange of power. A pearl have power over a diamond! A ridiculous thought - a dangerous, subversive, radical thought. A thought Rose would have - should have? - loved.

It crawls along her skin and up her spine, the unnameable - the anger. Because she would have! Because if she- if Rose had asked, she’d have happily gone down on one knee and sworn off speech forever, if needed. Bound herself in directives and imperatives and orders and divine oaths, had them seared into the very core of her gem. Sworn to keep all secrets, from the sweetly, smilingly whispered it’ll be our secret over an odd Earth flower smuggled into courts and council chambers, to the world-shattering truths that would make a diamond shudder.

But Rose hadn’t asked; she’d done, and taken, and gotten what she wanted, and that was it. No looking back, never to be spoken of again, and Pearl, despite that soft please- thrown in among the commands, was left without even the sweet illusion of choice.

We’ll both finally be free.

Another beautiful, dangerous thought. And so like Rose, to fail to at all acknowledge the vast chasm Homeworld struck between them, to focus on the unlikely things they shared and remain almost resolutely oblivious to what set them apart from one another.

Oh, and how Rose would wax poetic! How enchanted she had always been, even by the most mundane of things Pearl had to say. I love how outspoken you are! I love hearing your voice, I love hearing you speak your mind. That wonderful, brilliant mind.

Well, so much for that-! Pearl’s traitorous hands relinquish their duty, finally, and clench in the diaphanous material of her skirt. Bitter, bitter, bitter.

And then swirling, treacherous, waiting just under the surface, waiting to drag her down to depths she tries very hard to keep locked away, safe and very carefully, very deliberately not thought about.

Was it worth it?

So much she would never see again - so much she gladly gave up, for Rose, for her cause and all their companions, for freedom on this odd, wild planet. But Rose is gone, and so is most everyone else, and all that’s left is… this. There is Garnet, and there is Amethyst, and there is even… the child. Steven. But they all feel so very, very far away, and Pearl doesn’t know where to even begin, when all she seems capable of lately is remembering.

Rose’s tears have done their part. Pearl’s preferred sword-arm is whole and her legs, when she tries them despite Rose’s gesture to stay still and stay down, wobble only a little and hold her up.

Rose grabs her arm anyway, and palms her other shoulder as if to steady her. “You can’t keep doing this, Pearl.”

“No,” Pearl begins, hoarsely, “you can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you talking about? That axe almost went right through your gem! If Garnet hadn’t managed to stop that carnelian in time, you would have- you-” Rose draws her hands back, and tries to stifle a rush of sobs - a waste, now that there is nobody to heal. “I can’t have you risking yourself like that for me, Pearl. I don’t need you to! I thought we were over this, it’s been so long...”

And it has indeed been long. And Rose is many things, but particularly observant is not one of them - still, how could it have escaped her that it was the first real battle since Pink Diamond’s… shattering? How far the stakes have risen, and how much they have gambled on this one lie-

“Rose, you have to understand. If you make a mistake, if they dissipate your form, or- or capture your gem, they’ll-”

They’ll know, everyone will know-

The tingle is already running down her freshly healed arm, the constructed muscles of it tightening, twitching, preparing. And so she struggles to choose words that won’t make her own limbs turn against her.

“Pearl?”

Gentle hands fold over hers and still their trembling, and they are not those hands (but they are, they are, they are-), no, these are soft, bare, and battle-worn, and oddly warm, and would never hurt her. Not… not knowingly.

And does she even know what she’s done?

Pearl hasn’t shown her yet, these true effects of her last command, and she isn’t sure she wants to know if Rose knew all along what it entailed. She herself is only aware thanks to her endless curiosity and thirst for knowledge, and the experiment she conducted on her own, that left her feeling oddly hollow. But it is convenient, isn’t it, if, for example, she were to be captured and interrogated, she couldn’t-

Pearl pulls away.

Think of me, she wants to say, too, think of what I will lose.

If the truth were to come out, she would never again be anything but Pink Diamond’s pearl, tagging along, following her orders, no matter how absurd. Nothing she did, on Rose’s behalf or her own, would really matter.

There's no denying that being the Pearl Who Belongs To No One - or the Terrifying Renegade, depending on who it is you ask - feels… good. A delightful, dangerous rush. The mere thought of the way everyone would look at her differently if they were to find out, the condescending pity, or the casual disregard...

Intolerable.

Would anyone stop to listen to her, dare to believe her when she tries to explain that no, it’s not like that! It’s not like that at all, Rose would never treat her like- Rose would never-

Except for the one time she did.

“Pearl?” Rose, again, with mounting concern.

“It’s nothing,” Pearl sighs, defeated. “Just… please, be careful. We’re so close.”

“I know,” Rose grasps both her hands again with a wide, teary smile, excitement and anticipation quickly replacing worry, and Pearl stops herself from pulling away, fighting so very hard to focus on... before, when those hands over hers brought nothing but comfort. “It won’t be long now, not when there’s already rumours of a retreat.”

Pearl tries again, and is foiled before her lips can even finish closing around the p-.

She’s crying again - or still? - but what are a few tears compared to the veritable torrents over the past months of being faced with the horrible inevitability of a life without Rose and the anticipation-

Her hands relent once more.

The mixture of grief and anger and odd relief and relief denied all at once is heady and dizzying. Rose can’t be completely gone, can she, if her orders are still in place? Or if she is, but Pearl is still bound, then will Pearl ever be released from this? And then, creeping: does she even really want to be, if it means there are still things - awful, precious things - binding her and her alone to Rose?

But then, of course… this way, she realises, this way the child will never know, either. And so Rose has achieved what she has always wanted: the ultimate fresh start, true reinvention, and the pinnacle of forgetting, never, ever looking back.

And what, Pearl thinks, what does she even want anymore?

She plucks the flower closest to her knee, the bloom new and pink and drenched in eerie echoes of memories, but without a single answer for her. She moves to get up, straighten out her skirt, and return to the others at the Temple, hopefully to as few questions about her absence as possible.

By the time she’s made the long walk down the overgrown mountain path to the warp pad, all that’s left is pink petals crushed against her palm, and she lets the wind have them.

#steven universe #pearl #rose quartz #steven universe spoilers #pearlrose #a single pale rose #fanfiction #su spoilers #my fic #oathkeeper writes things #title actually courtesy of dry the river #Give Pearl A Break 2k18 #the WIP title for this doc was “Pearl Is Fucking Pissed” so take from that what you will #the great pinkpocalypse of 2018

144 notes · View notes

thievesrpg · 5 years

Photo

STATS.

name: up to player age: twenty-five — twenty-nine role: the right hand fc: danna paola, ryan guzman, katie stevens, alfie enoch

AESTHETIC.

greys. routines and plans. the shadow that lingers behind. shaking hands. the enforcer of rules. a lighter touch. a wobbling voice. off white. a list of books you mean to read. steady gazes. a glass of wine to calm your nerves. content to follow. burgundy. twine-tied journals. coaxing a laugh out of even the most unfriendly. strong and silent. deep breaths.

BACKGROUND.

you were born into the same dynasty as roman, though your father never had quite commanded the same respect as his. still, you were treated with high esteem even in your youth. you were trained in class and grace during the days, but in the night you were taught of how to steal the watch off of someone’s wrist without flinching, and how to slip in and out unnoticed. you did it well, there was no doubting that. but you were never meant to lead. you could never catch the attention of a room like others around you, but that never bothered you. you knew how to create a plan and then follow it. you knew how to enforce rules. the name sidekick doesn’t sit well with you, but being someone’s right hand has never caused you pause.

CONNECTIONS.

the ringleader — you met roman when you were both young, both eager and bright-eyed when it came to discussions of the future. more often than not, your heads were ducked down together, ideas of greatness and grandeur running through your minds. it was often roman who took action, and you who followed, but it was with contentment that you did so. you were best friends and often the first each other would turn to in need of help. when his father ousted him, there was no question you would follow. you had the choice to stay, but no one was surprised when you left. roman was always more like family to you than your own and that remains true to this day.

the freeloader — they shouldn’t be here. to you, it’s obvious, but you wonder why their presence is still allowed in an elite group such as your own. some particularly lax group members already get on your nerves, but with them, your blood boils. they’re a danger to everything you and roman have spent your lives dreaming of and working on, so you know it’s only a matter of time before they get themselves kicked out of the group. you hope it doesn’t come to that, but you’re not above speeding up the process.

the spy — you’re extremely pleased that roman let you take point on this. you tell the spy what you need, you tell them when you’re meeting. this is your project and it has to go well. it’s disguised as friendship. dinners and drinks, light conversation and laughter. really, it doesn’t mean much. you appreciate what the spy is doing, though. their position puts them in a dangerous spot, and you worry slightly. you content and humor them by answering the questions they have. you try not to reveal too much. really, out of everyone, they’re the only one functioning on a need-to-know basis. this makes them both dangerous and a liability. you need to keep them close.

#new rp #skeleton rp #original rp #crime rp #lsrpg #the right hand #c

1 note · View note

niigoki · 7 years

Text

STEVEN UNIVERSE Title: Aurora - Chapter 3 Rated: M Read on Ao3 or FanFiction

“Hey, careful, you’re gonna fall!” Greg got up, leaving his tiny garden to help his son balance himself on the roof of their simple home.

“It’s okay dad, I’ve been practicing. Look!” Steven spread both his arms and lifted one leg, looking up. His body shook a little, but eventually he managed to achieve a perfect form, balancing himself on one foot. “See?”

“That’s impressive,” Greg smiled crookedly, still nearby in case he accidentally fell. “What exactly are you doing again?”

“Lapis told me that warriors need to be strong, have good reflexes, and be able to balance themselves in battle. Since I’m not that strong or quick, I thought that balance would be a good one to try and follow!” He answered with a smile and a wobble.

“I don’t think that’s the kind of balance she was talking about, little man.” Greg laughed in return and put his arms up. “Come back down, please?”

Steven finally obeyed and jumped into his father’s arms, laughing. When Greg settled him back on the ground, he ruffled his hair and returned to his garden. “So, about this whole… ‘becoming a warrior’ thing…”

“Come on dad, we talked about this.” Steven moved to his father’s side and sat down, watching him work. “Lapis is going to need me out there. I promise I’ll stay safe.”

“Still, if I could just go with you…”

“You know you can’t,” Steven averted his eyes, sighing on the inside. “You need to stay here and take care of everyone once we’re gone. People trust you around here.”

“Yeah… I suppose,” Greg’s voice always faltered when they talked about this, and Steven hated to be the one making his dad worry. Still, it’s not like it could be helped; he had an important mission that would most likely save everyone’s lives. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Steven was about to continue the conversation when his eyes caught the new girl going somewhere. Peridot was her name? She seemed to be distressed and Lapis was nowhere to be seen, so Steven got up, his instincts telling him to talk to her. “I’ll be right back, dad.”

Approaching the girl, Steven noticed her strong and quick steps and slouched back. She was very short in stature, her blonde hair disheveled as if it hadn’t been brushed in ages, and her pale skin full of dark bruises. Steven’s chest constricted in worry – that girl seemed to have gone through a lot.

“Hey! Peridot!” Steven yelled and the girl flinched, looking back at him. “Hi! Sorry to disturb you, but you looked a little lost.”

“I’m fine.” Peridot grunted, and started walking again. She was not in the mood to baby a child, specially a cheerful one like that boy. Her head was a mess and she wanted to punch something until feeling her hands break apart, and if Steven didn’t leave her alone, he would probably be her target for said punches.

“Well… let me be your guide regardless. I’m Steven! Steven Universe.” His smile was honest and annoying.

“Didn’t ask.”

“Aww, come on. I’m sure we can be friends,” He wasn’t going to let her off the hook, was he? “The whole village is really nice if you give it a chance!”

Peridot growled lowly, walking faster. Steven picked up his pace, and even with his short stubby legs, he was quite fast. “Look, just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Well… I can’t do that unless you promise to not leave.”

“Why? I never asked to be here. That beast,” Despite her anger, Peridot felt a tad guilty calling Lapis that. “Brought me here without my consent.”

That’s when Steven stepped in front of her, making Peridot almost crash into him. That forced her to stop and she was about to push him out of the way, when she saw his expression. His smile was gone and he stared at her with serious eyes. “Don’t call her that.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Peridot averted her eyes, grunting. “…Whatever.”

“Lapis saved my life. Our lives. I won’t let you badmouth her like that.” Steven took a step forward, making Peridot backup. “Didn’t she save your life as well?”

“Yes. She did.” She looked back at the boy, hovering over him and almost spitting in his face. “That’s exactly why I hate her.”

“What…?”

“She was supposed to kill me, not save me.”

Steven blinked, extremely confused. He opened his mouth once, then twice, but closed it at last, speechless. In all those years he’s been there, no one had been this hostile towards Lapis. People saw her as everyone’s savior; they practically worshiped her. Whenever Lapis came out of her house, there was always someone outside with a gift for her. She was the kindest and most selfless person Steven has ever met, and watching someone get angry at her made his heart ache.

“I don’t understand…” The poor boy was lost and Peridot rolled her eyes, walking past him again.

“Didn’t expect you to.”

This time he stood rooted in place, disheartened at the new girl. When he was about to give up, something clicked in his brain and he tried one last attempt, loudly. “Want to know what my curse is?”

Peridot stopped. She didn’t turn around, but Steven could feel that he’d gotten through to her. Confident again, he walked past her, grabbing her sleeve. “Follow me.”

She grunted the whole way, but followed.

One of the borders of the village led to a cliff, thousands of feet above the ground. Underneath it, the endless forest seemed to continue – either that or the fog was green. Peridot heaved as she sat down next to Steven at the edge of the cliff; the climb was pretty long and she wasn’t exactly in top shape.

“You good?” Steven asked with a hint of a laugh in his voice.

“Peachy.” Peridot had learned to take that question as ironic. Anyone who looked at her could tell that ‘good’ was the last thing she would ever be.

“Hang in there.” With a comfortable sigh, Steven rocked his little feet back and forth, looking down at the miles and miles of trees. “I love the view from here.”

Finally regaining her breath, Peridot stared down and wondered if a fall that big would perhaps do the trick. The thought vanished as soon as it came, though – of course it wouldn’t. She rolled her eyes at the kid’s optimism. “Why is that?”

“It makes me feel like the world is much bigger than I thought,” Steven’s eyes became melancholic. “When I lived back at the village, I thought that there was nothing else out there. Didn’t you?”

The answer was yes, but she just shrugged.

“Then Lapis came along and expanded my little world.” Steven continued. “She was the one who first brought me to this cliff, too. I was terrified of it at first. Realizing that there is so much out there was scary.”

“There is too much out there.” Peridot retorted bitterly. She thought about the Blue Sorceress and how she came from beyond the borders of the village. If it wasn’t for whatever was out there, Peridot would’ve been able to cease her suffering a long time ago. The fact that her salvation had also been waiting for her out there for a long time, but without ever contacting her, made her even angrier.

“Well… that’s one way to see it, I guess.” Steven pondered, a hand on his chin. “Every time someone new comes along, people get excited to meet them. Sometimes it’s a friend they knew. Most times it’s just a stranger full of hope for a new, good life.”

“Did you drag me out here to give me a lecture on why I should put your precious little utopia on a pedestal?” Peridot was tired and frustrated, and this child wasn’t helping her calm her nerves.

“N-no, no!” Steven stuttered, blushing. “I’m sorry. I will tell you about my curse.” He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “My curse comes from my touch. Everything these hands touch… die.”

In a split second, Peridot widened her eyes, grabbed Steven’s wrists, and brought his hands to her chest. The kid blinked, surprised, and tried to pull them back. When nothing happened, Peridot frowned. “Is there a time limit, or something?”

“W-what? No, it doesn’t work on people. J-just animals and plants.” Steven was visibly scared by the way she had reacted, then he remembered what she’d said earlier about wanting Lapis to kill her. “You… you really meant it when you said you were angry that Lapis saved your life, huh?”

Peridot sighed, releasing Steven’s wrists. “Do I really look like I’m kidding?”

“Not at all…” An awkward silence settled in between them and Steven fidgeted. He opened his mouth, but thought about it and didn’t say anything.

With another exasperate sigh, Peridot mumbled. “Go ahead. Ask.”

“What is your curse, Peridot?”

For some reason, her body felt extremely tired all of a sudden. Explaining things to Lapis was already exhausting enough, now she had to do it again. Peridot didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to live with it – but she didn’t have a choice on that matter.

“Life is my curse.” She said simply, letting herself fall backwards and hitting the dirt. The sky was clean, with no trace of another incoming snowstorm and Peridot closed her eyes to feel the air around her. “I’ve lived for a hundred years and I’m not allowed to die. That’s what the sorceress did to me.”

“Which one?”

“Huh?”

“Which sorceress? Blue, Yellow?” Steven swallowed. “White?”

Peridot didn’t understand the relevance of this question, but if the kid had brought it up then he probably knew something she didn’t. “It was a woman covered by a blue veil, so I suppose it was Blue.”

“Oh, good.” He seemed relieved and Peridot sat back up, staring angrily at him. “I m-mean, at least it wasn’t White! She is the most ruthless of them all.”

An avalanche of anger washed over Peridot and she grit her teeth.

“So making me wander pointlessly through life was the best option?” She could hardly believe what that kid was saying. He had no idea what she’d been through – he couldn’t even fathom the pain and despair she’d felt for all those years, and now he was saying that it could’ve been worse? “Forcing me to wake up every day and see the worst humanity has to offer was a blessing? Is that what you’re saying?!”

With each word she crawled closer and Steven looked down from the cliff, almost losing his balance; he had to think quickly or else this clearly emotionally unstable girl would make them both fall. The difference is that Steven would not survive. “I’m just saying that she’s the easiest one to kill!”

The silence after that was jarring and he covered his mouth with both hands. Peridot froze on her spot, staring at him with confused eyes. “What?”

“N-nothing, forget I said any—”

With a quick move she grabbed him by the collar and pushed him off the edge. The only thing stopping Steven from a thousand feet fall was the trembling hand of an angry girl. “Speak.”

“O-okay, okay!” He held onto her with every fiber of his being, heart pounding on his chest. “Lapis has this idea of f-forming an army and going after the Sorceresses! S-she was recruiting people from the village. She has this diary f-from her dad, a Witch Hunter, and there are lots of information about how to kill mythical creatures in there! Lapis said that killing the sorceress who cursed you would free you from the curse. S-so in your case, killing Blue!”

That was a lot to process and Peridot almost let Steven fall. He yelled, grabbing her attention again and she pulled him back to the safety of the ground. Steven panted, still a trembling mess, and looked up at the girl. Peridot’s eyes were unfocused, as if her brain was working a thousand miles per hour; plans, ideas, and maybe a tiny bit of hope crossed her mind, and she bit her lip. Ultimately, she knew what she wanted to do with this information, and finally got up, leaving Steven behind.

“Wait!” He tried to get up, but his trembling legs wouldn’t let him. His body was still processing the shock of almost dying and was not responding correctly. “Peridot!”

But it was useless. It didn’t take long for her to be out of his sight, and Steven took a deep breath. “…Way to go, warrior.”

Despite the curious eyes following her every step, Peridot forced herself to ignore the growing paranoia in her mind and focus on getting to her destination. There was a driving force guiding her for the first time in her life, and she wasn’t about to let it slip. She finally had a chance to end this miserable existence of hers, and she was going to make damn sure that it was not wasted.

Arriving at Lapis’ house, she opened the door without knocking. The blue-haired girl was sitting at the same exact position she was on when Peridot left, and looked up from the book she was reading.

“Peridot,” She looked surprised to see her back so soon after her outburst. “I thought you left.”

“I—” Her throat was really dry and she felt a bit awkward suddenly. It felt like the last words they had exchanged were still hanging around them, and for some reason this didn’t settle down nicely with Peridot. She pushed the feeling away, concentrating on her purpose. “I was going to. Then this boy made me stay.”

“Steven?” Lapis blinked.

“Yes.” Peridot closed the door behind her. “He told me about your army.”

Lapis’ eyes widened then, but before she could say anything, Peridot interjected.

“I want in.”

And she waited for the convoluted argument that she was sure was going to follow her sentence. First, Lapis would stare at her broken, skinny body from head to toe and probably laugh at how pathetic her physical condition was. Then Peridot would yell at her some guilt-tripping excuse like ‘you did this to me, you own me.’, followed by Lapis’ denial, and ultimately, her begrudgingly acceptance. The scenario was clear in her head.

But what happened instead was:

“Okay.”

Peridot blinked, surprised. “…Okay?”

Lapis closed her book and got up with a sigh. She took her time putting it back on the top shelf of her bookcase, then turned around, walking towards her. There was something inherently intimidating about the wolf, Peridot noticed. Her legs trembled suddenly, but she refused to back down from her decision.

Lapis stopped nearly nose-to-nose with her, the gleam of a challenge in her yellow, glowing eyes. “Okay.”

Her breath was warm against Peridot’s lips and she swallowed, still not breaking contact. “Okay.”

They stood there for a couple of seconds before Lapis broke the hypnotizing gaze, turning around. Then out of nowhere, she turned back, pouncing on her.

Peridot grunted with the sudden weight on her chest as she fell back and hit her head on the floor. It hurt, and she was caught off guard by how heavy Lapis was – it was the weight of the wolf, but inside a human body. “What the hell??”

“There are things a lot quicker than me out there.” Lapis’ voice was low and husky, and a predatory aura enveloped her body. “Tiny, almost imperceptible at night. Sharp teeth that will puncture your flesh like it’s foam.”

“Don’t…” Peridot’s lungs were squished and she struggled to speak. “Don’t care.”

“They’re all curses. Meaning they will be able to kill you.”

“So far I don’t see a downside to this.”

“Do you want to die pathetically by the hands of cursed rodents, or do you want to get your revenge on the one who did this to you?”

The question floated in the air for a long time, the hesitation clear. Finally, Peridot spoke, grabbing one of Lapis’ arms. “I’ll kill Blue myself.” Then the other. “And then I’ll throw myself out of that goddamn cliff.” She had never said anything with such conviction before.

Apparently convinced, Lapis finally got up, pulling Peridot with her. The blonde coughed and inhaled deeply, dizzy from the rough fall. She looked at Lapis, who crouched behind her table to grab something; she emerged with a piece of blue fabric and threw it to Peridot, who caught it in the air.

“Welcome to the army, warrior.”

Peridot stared at the fabric and almost laughed. “Blue because of your hair?”

“Blue because that’s who you’re gonna kill.”

That’s when Peridot smirked, earning the same from the wolf in front of her.

#lapidot #steven universe #aurora fic #my fic #lapis lazuli #peridot

108 notes · View notes