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shreddedparchment · 4 years

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Pseudo Princess Pt.15

Jealousy Incarnate

11/09/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,639

Warnings: language, angst, pining, fluff, jealousy, confused Peter Parker

A/N: Oh man, I’ve had a WEEK. My pain flared up out of nowhere and then I just couldn’t focus my brain. It was hell to get this chapter out, not because I didn’t want to but I just couldn’t. It rarely happens but I just couldn’t concentrate. Anyway, I hope you like this one. Things are...changing. Let me know what you think! As this story gets so many comments, I cannot reply to all of them but I DO read them all. I will try and respond to some of them. I love y’all so much. You mean the world to me. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS ARE CLOSED FOR THIS STORY!

You didn’t know you could be this angry. This hurt. This…jealous?

The festering boil that Maggie’s constant mention had brought, you thought, had been done away with.

True to his word, Steve did everything in his power to show you that it was you and only you.

As you’d begun your descent through the castle's pretty dark oak hallways, warm wooden walls lined with portraits and colorful tapestries, you’d almost made up your mind to pull him aside and just give in.

Love him as you were meant to. As you’ve been wanting to do.

You've been feeling less and less apprehensive with his Majesty and you’re just about ready to welcome him back into your bed.

Back into your life, properly. As your husband.

You still need to tell him about the baby too. Another month gone and you still haven’t told him, and your belly is just starting to swell.

You reach down and give it a quick caress over your dress, fingers tracing the delicate and ornate embroidery of the firm black bodice. The orange silk shirt underneath with it’s ruffled and off the shoulder neckline keep you cool in the last heatwave of autumn before true winter comes. Does it snow here? You aren’t sure.

The gray skirt is light weight, flowing around you like a gossamer cloud with only the faintest hints of black thunder within.

Around your neck you’re wearing your locket. Carefully you reach up to fix it as you head for the garden, where you know his Majesty will be.

He goes every day to walk the space, wondering if today will be the day you come down, or so he says.

You’ve tried to catch glimpse of him in the weeks past and you do see him wandering around in the afternoons.

Today you’re sure is the day to forgive him. Truly forgive him. For everything. Today, you and his Majesty can start all over again. Today is the day that your new life begins.

Turning into the garden, your feet stutter as you watch his Majesty walk towards the hedge and flower maze entrance, his wide shoulders relaxed. He has his hands held behind his back, but his face is happy, smiling, not a care in the world it seems.

Not even for you.

Despite his proclamations of coming down here to wait for you, there he goes, walking side by side with a blonde woman who stands taller and firmer than you will ever be. Her body even through the luxurious diamond blue gown she’s wearing is clearly fit and able.

You’re no slouch but her body is ridiculous. Carefully crafted protection. You shouldn’t compare. You shouldn’t do it, but your body is swelling. Your breasts are already growing larger. The fatty places, already soft and jiggly are thickening more.

She reaches out to grab his Majesty’s bicep and gives it a squeeze as she laughs, and he laughs with her.

He’s laughing with her!

You’re not expecting the tightness in your chest at the sight of him smiling and laughing with someone else. Not pulling away when she touches him the way he’d done so many times with you.

You can still remember trying to reach for his hand on your wedding day and he’d quickly pulled his hand out of reach.

You see red and huff. Fed up.

He turns to talk to her but then as you step back, your movement seems to catch his eye.

Quickly as you can, while his smiling eyes are taking a split second to recognize you, you turn and hurry back towards the castle, moving around the garden gate and out of sight, a flurry of voile skirt following in your wake.

You hear him before you see him, heart pounding with betrayal.

Suddenly he’s on you, his hand around your wrist as you turn to look at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes.

“Y/N…” He says in thick desperation that forms a lump in your throat. “You came.”

He smiles. And you hate him all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come with me.” Nat urges you, moving to pull you up from bed.

“Nat, I’m not even dressed yet.” You complain, moving towards the basin in the corner of your room where you’ve taken to running every morning. Sometimes after midday as well.

This baby is not making your pregnancy easy.

Nat sees where you’re headed and her excitement fades as her brow furrows instead.

“You okay?” She releases your hand and instead wraps an arm around your lower back.

“I’m fine.” You chuckle, pushing her arm away.

She and grandmother have been fussing over you since she arrived, watching your every move, every pain, every dizzy spell.

“Just a bit sick to my stomach. Nothing out of the ordinary.” You assure her and stop by your table instead to pick at your breakfast.

You stare at the jam in agony, wishing you could take a bite of the strawberry delicacy that his Majesty had sent up for you two mornings ago. It was better than the last and you wish you could eat it, but the baby does not like it and so, it sits there. Ignored.

You eat only a bit of bread. Then carefully raise the cup of wormwood and mint tea, suggested by grandmother for its calming properties.

Scrunching your nose, you sip it, and relish when your stomach settles a little. The taste is not exactly your favorite, but you’ll gladly sacrifice your taste buds to stop being sick every five minutes.

“Are you sure? I can fetch Grandmother.” Nat offers, adopting the name you’ve been calling the old woman since she arrived.

“I’m sure. I’ll feel better when I can eat. I’m hungry but at the same time, I cannot stand to look at food.” You sigh, missing your jams and jellies.

“Well, let’s get you dressed.” She hurries over to your wardrobe to look at your dresses and opts for something simple.

A white gown made of flowing light fabric. It kind of looks like cotton but not quite. It’s minimal compared to the other gowns you’ve worn around the castle. Just white. No design. Only a simple ruffle around the neck to accent your bust.

“Why?” You plead without whining.

“Because I have something to show you. Something that you must see. No exceptions. I also have something for you when we get down there.” She offers ominously.

“Down where?” You ask, moving to her as she throws your dress over the back of the opposite chair at your table then holds her hands out and waits for you to stand still to strip you.

“You’ll see.” She’s grinning like a cat, and you’re suddenly terrified.

It turns out to be the garden that Nat wants to take you to.

Fresh air is just what you need, and you find that your stomach settles completely once you’re out in the open space.

“This was a good idea.” You smile, feeling at ease and better than you’ve felt since you got back.

Of course, his Majesty is always on your mind. He’s the whole reason you’ve come back.

He’s the last piece of your puzzle. The reason you don’t sleep soundly.

And yet, he’s your husband. How can someone that’s already yours drive you this mad?

“I’m glad you think so.” Nat smiles beside you, her arm wrapped around yours as she leads you down the familiar path.

The gardens are alive with the end of the season. Dragonflies glisten with pearlescent wings, birds and bees fill the air, whizzing by in the comforting breeze. The sun pimples your skin as you soak it up and your hand subconsciously moves over your still normal tummy, excited to give your baby healthy sunshine.

The air is fragrant. The endless flowers, which you now notice have been left to grow wild, paint the garden in vibrant colors.

He listened. You can’t help but think. Because you’d told his Majesty that your only criticism with the beautiful space is that everything was too well kept. Too structured.

Now the gardens have begun to resemble the wildflowers you’d napped in on rolling green hills back in Malibia.

This garden…most of it anyway, makes you feel like you’re home.

You make to turn to the left, away from Margaret’s pavilion which his Majesty had banned you from using—the only spot in this lovely place that makes you feel like an intruder still…unwelcome—but Nat pulls you to a stop and turns towards the right.

“Let’s go this way. We never go this way.” She insists, forcing her manipulation to sound like genuine pleading. You can see right through her though.

“Because there isn’t anything over there, except a place that I’m not allowed to go.” You sigh and move once more towards the left, pulling your arm from Nat's when she doesn’t move.

You get three steps before there’s a deep sigh. “Wait!”

Stopping, you turn to look at the wily Goddess and she rolls her eyes, reaching into her dress pocket to pull out a thick piece of parchment.

“What’s that?” You wonder, suddenly nervous because you know very well what it is.

“I wanted to see your face when you see it, but I suppose I should just do it his way. Here.” She offers the parchment to you looking disappointed.

“His way?” You repeat, confuse and moving back towards her.

Taking the folded piece, you open it up and stare down at his Majesty's familiar hand.

My Darling,

He begins, and your heart beats crazy.

I understand why you cannot see me. Rather, why you won’t see me. I have done nothing but make you feel as if you do not belong here. Such is my crime.

You frown, hating the reminder.

I didn’t know what you would come to mean to me. How could I when you came out of nowhere and struck me down like a bolt of lightning? I want you to know that I wholeheartedly regret the things I said…and did. You didn’t deserve them. I was a fool. I wish I could take them back. All of them.

Especially our wedding night. My heart is raw knowing that I hurt you that way. I love you. I can’t believe I…

From this day forth, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you know just how much you mean to me.

You’re chewing your lip furiously, anxious and somehow grateful for the words he’s written but only time will tell how well he can keep that promise.

This is your home, sweetheart. You’re my one and only from now until our dying day. Forgive me for making you feel as if you had to compete with someone else.

The funny thing is, you can see the intent behind his words even though he only half means them.

You can tell that he means them in the sense that you are his future. He loves you as his current wife. The woman who will be the mother of his children though, he doesn’t know that yet.

In that sense, he means it, but he also meant every word about Margaret. He loved her to death and when she died, he fell apart. He ceased to function.

She had a part of him that you can never touch. Not in the same way and you feel slightly sad that he feels he must bury that down to make you happy.

He should make you happy just as you want to make him happy, but that doesn’t mean you like the way he’s going about it. You’d much rather he be open with you, no matter how painful hearing about Margaret might be.

Maybe so long as he doesn’t compare you, then you’ll be okay?

I hope this small gesture will prove to you that I mean what I say. I’ve instructed Nat to take you.

You’ve been walking down the pathway towards the opening with the pavilion and suddenly it springs out of the greenery.

You gasp, completely thrown by the fact that Margaret’s red daisies are gone and in their place are what must be hundreds and hundreds of pale pink and peach peonies.

They rustle in the breeze, wafting sweet fragrance towards you threatening to knock you off your feet with how much you want to swoon.

With shallow breath, a gasp of air you hadn’t realized you’d been depriving yourself of, you look back down at the letter.

For the one that I crushed. I am the biggest moron in the twelve Kingdoms.

I love you, Y/N. Believe me or not, it does not change the fact that it’s true. Never forget that I am waiting.

I will wait forever if I must, patiently. Longingly. Desperately waiting for you to love me and this time I will gladly let you.

Yours forever,

His Majesty King Steve G. Rogers

You don’t know what to do. You want to cry because you’re so happy, but you also want to laugh because this letter is everything you’ve wanted him to tell you. You’re angry because it isn’t in person, but you have only yourself to blame for that.

You begged him to stay away and you do still want him to keep his distance. But you wish you could look into his eyes and see if he means these things he’s writing.

“Y/N?” Nat checks, peeking around a small hedge. “You okay?”

You turn to her and nod, smiling lightly as tears glisten between your lashes but do not fall.

“I…Why couldn’t he be like this from the start?” You sigh, looking down at your letter and then looking up at the peonies standing in pleasing contrast against the dark stone of the little build.

Nat sighs. “I think he wanted to.”

You look at her, not believing her one bit. “But…”

“I think that’s exactly what made him mean. Steve has always been one for commitment. For duty and honor and marrying you was not exactly his choice. I’m not saying that he isn’t glad he did it, but the council pushed him to marry quickly. Before he was ready to let go of Maggie.

“I don’t think he was expecting to like you as much as he did. To love you. Truly love you and also still love her. They made promises to each other when they thought that they had forever and then forever was gone. But he still made those promises and ever a man of his word, he tried to keep himself from giving in to you.” Nat smiles at you, reaching over to rub your back.

“So, what you’re saying is that he was purposefully cruel because he was in love with me and didn’t want to be?” You repeat for her.

Nat’s smile turns apologetic and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I can forgive him, Nat. I have had no experience in love. I was a virgin when we married. I…Thor was my first kiss. My first real one that wasn’t taken by force.” Some of the men of your village were disgusting and only a knife to the throat could deter them. “It should have been Steve. His hands should have been soft and gentle. Instead, he held me down and…”

“He knows that you need time.” Nat assures you. “But do you think you can forgive him eventually? Enough to be with him? To be his wife again?”

You lapse into silence, staring at the romantic gesture before you and notice inside the gazebo a small table has been set up with teas, biscuits, and jams.

Your heart swells, fluttering in your chest as you huff a small breath of delight.

Now that you’ve been outside for a while, you realize how hungry you are and your stomach growls loudly.

“Is he trying to overfeed me?” Your heart grows wary. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

You turn to Nat who shakes her head. “Of course not. No one but Grandmother and I know and we’re not telling anyone until you’re ready. But Y/N, you can’t keep this to yourself for long. The council will usurp Steve if he doesn’t produce an heir. You have just under five months left to announce your pregnancy and have a doctor examine you to ascertain the validity of your pregnancy.”

“I know.” You move towards the pavilion, taking in the tall steeple roof that you just now realize ends in a point made of glass. It gives view to the sky. “I just didn’t want him to love me for the baby.”

“He’s already in love with you.” Nat promises. “Baby or not. He wants you.”

“Will he be happy?” You wonder. “Truly happy? Will he regret that it isn’t with Maggie that he’s building a family? Will he love my baby as much as he would have loved hers?”

Your mouth runs on, asking the questions only your heart knows. Afraid of being second to a memory. Afraid to hear him say those words again, “Maggie wouldn’t-Maggie would-Maggie did-Maggie, Maggie, Maggie”.

“Y/N…” Nat begins.

“It’s stupid to be jealous of her. I know that.” You sit in the small padded seat and reach over to lather jam on a biscuit and take a nice big bite.

No nausea.

“When you’re ready, ask him. And I’m sure he will tell you exactly how he feels about you and your baby. His baby, Y/N.” She reminds you.

You nod. “Our baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s just a peek. That’s all Steve wants. Just a quick look.

He knows you came down here because Peter came to tell him.

Peter who has been moping around Steve instead of being with you and Nat as he usually is because you’ve instructed him to stay away too.

He’s right beside him now, walking silently the way the kid does.

His mouth is a different story.

“What did I do? Do you think I offended her Majesty in some way?” Peter asks, gesturing his chest over his pale green tunic. “I understand why she doesn’t want to speak with you or having you around. You were a huge ass to her. But me?”

Steve turns to glare at him, frowning as he turns back towards the smaller hidden pathway that leads to your pavilion.

“What? I didn’t do anything to make her angry.” Peter reiterates.

“No.” Steve sighs. “She might just need some space. Talk about women’s problems with Nat.”

Or tell her about things that you’d done with Thor that you didn’t want to say around Peter?

Even though Thor had assured him that he hadn’t lain with you, Steve wonders.

“You’re sure she never asked about him?” Steve questions your guard and Peter frowns at him this time.

“Why do you keep asking me?”

“I just want to be sure.” He explains. “They spent a lot of time together.”

“Your Majesty, Steve…if she wasn’t in love with you, she wouldn’t be pushing you away right now. She has to really care about you to be pissed enough to give you the cold shoulder. If she were talking to you like normal, then I think you’d have reason to worry.

“If she stops getting angry, then it means she doesn’t care.” Peter nods. “She never asked about Thor. Not to me.”

Steve stares at the kid—at twenty-two he’s not really a kid anymore but to Steve he’ll always be that massively strong little twerp that stole his shield—and realizes that he’s right.

You’re angry. Which means that you still care. Steve smiles and walks on, shifting into a semi-crouch as they get closer to a small opening in the hedge that is hidden behind a well-placed tree.

“Why are we here?” Peter asks, whispering because Steve’s crouching makes everything feel sneaky.

“I just want to see if she likes it.” Steve stops behind the tree, peeking out towards the pavilion.

All of Margaret’s red daisies are one, replaced by large, fragrant, and beautiful peonies in peach and pink shades.

His heart gives a small ache at the absence of the flower he’s associated with Maggie for almost twenty years, but then he sees you, sitting in the pavilion, smiling from ear to ear.

You’re a vision in white. No…more like a cream, with a pale green ribbon around your waist. The ruffles on your neckline accentuate your breasts and Steve’s heart gives a small ache. He wants to have you in his arms again.

Beneath him, beside him, inside you as one but properly this time. Showing you just how much he should have been worshipping your precious body from day one.

You laugh lightly, chuckling at something Nat has said then reach out to grab a biscuit and smear some jam on it.

You take a bite and the sticky pulp smears against your pretty lips.

Steve swallows hard, then his mouth falls open as he gapes at you while you lick your lips clean. Had your mouth always been so tempting?

He’d been fighting himself so hard that he had never given himself a chance to really look at you and appreciate the small details of your body. Now it’s all he sees. The way your hands elegantly curl around a tart. The gentle way you throw your head back and laugh as Nat serves your tea.

He grins when you slouch and then as if you’re remembering you shouldn’t be slouching, you suddenly sit up straight and he can see you chastising yourself silently for the slip.

He’d give anything to move to you and rub your back, assure you that you can slouch and lay back if you want to. Convention is only for when the public can see you. At least in these instances. Tiny things like this…you should be comfortable in your home.

Suddenly, he realizes that you are. Forgetting to sit up straight, laughing in the pavilion, surrounded by the flower and its fragrance that has permanently seeped into your skin and hair. You are completely at ease in this spot and he feels a pain in his gut that moves up along his ribs and into his chest carving out splinters because this should have always been yours.

He made you feel unwelcome…how can he ever make it up to you?

“Steve…?” Peter whispers, and Steve’s head inches to turn to him but when he doesn’t Steve takes the nod as assent to continue. “Do you really love her?”

For a moment, Steve can only stare at you and ask himself that same question. You lay your elbow on the back of the bench and lean your head into your hand as you take a bite once more, staring at Nat as she animatedly recounts some tale.

Your hair falls around your face, the small smile that stretches your lips is angelic. Perfection. Why did he have to wake up to your true charms so late? Why couldn’t he have given in sooner?

“I do.” He confesses.

“Because if you don’t—and you’re just using her so that you can get your heir and keep your crown-” Peter begins.

Steve rounds to look at him so quickly that Peter takes a step back, hands twitching at his side, ready to web his way out of the garden if Steve tries anything.

“There was only one time that I used her. One time. And it was to save Morgana from marrying me. I think I’ve loved Y/N from the moment I saw her standing in my throne room…in that blue dress…looking excited and terrified. And heartbroken when I told her that she could never make me happy.” Steve sighs. “Now she’s the only one who can.”

He looks at you but you’re rising, eyes brimming with recognition and excitement.

Although he can’t hear you, he sees you open your mouth in an exclamation of delight. Calling to someone out of sight.

You raise your skirts and hurry down the steps of the pavilion and hurry towards the hedge path.

Lumbering out of it comes Thor, blonde hair flowing behind him as he rushes to meet you.

The two of you collide and he can hear Thor’s laugh, booming around the space and filling it with his deep chortle. He can’t hear yours, but he can see it in your face as Thor lifts you and turns you around slowly.

Without hesitation, he leans in and kisses your lips. A quick peck that might be in friendship but the both of you shut your eyes and Steve must look away as his chest is cracked open. He wraps his hand around the backside of the tree he’s hiding behind, fingers crumbling away at the bark as he curls his hand around it in a fist.

He tears his eyes back up to the two of you, forcing himself to watch.

All that affection…over a month…

“What did I do?” Steve wonders, trying to see it all through new eyes how he pushed you and neglected you and refused to give you love.

Thor’s got his hands on either side of your waist and he’s looking down at you as if he’s examining your body and Steve hates him again. And himself. Mostly himself.

Thor steps aside and from the path comes a smaller body, thinner, long straight brown hair flying behind her as she races to embrace you.

Morgana.

Tony and Pepper follow a few steps behind but stand back to allow you and your sister to reunite.

“Steve?” Peter checks with worry in his voice. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Your Majesty?”

“No.” Steve admits. “I’m not. I have work to do.”

Without another word, Steve pushes past him and heads back up to the castle to finish what he’d started in his office.

If he’s going to win you back, he’s going to have to really try.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re at a loss for words, arms clinging to the teen girl because her own hug is so very tight.

With wide eyes you look up at Tony and Pepper who stand there smiling at you fondly.

You can’t say what you’d like because Thor is here so instead you carefully tuck Morgana’s brown hair behind her ear and coax her head up to look at you.

“Mara…” You coo, happy to meet your sister at last. “I’m so glad you’re finally home.”

“I’ve been home.” She says, half laughing and it’s only now that you realize how distinguished she sounds. How much of a princess she really and truly is as opposed to you… “On the way here, I was telling Thor that I’d only seen you a few times a year so when you offered to take my place as King Rogers’s bride, I was so full of love and gratitude. I can never explain the complexities of how I feel to finally have you in my life once again. Thank you.”

She’s letting it all out, spilling everything in so few words. Telling you that she’s grateful that father found you and that you agreed to marry his Majesty. She’s telling you that she accepts you as her sister and that she understands that where you come from is a secret and she is going to do everything in her power to keep it for you.

You smile at her, hoping it’s with fondness that you do so.

“Tell me everything.” She suddenly gushes, and then slides to stand beside you. “Can I stay with you for a few weeks? Will Steve mind?”

Even Morgana calls him by his first name?

You nod. “You can stay. I’m sure he won’t mind. You’re my precious sister. I dare him to try.”

Morgana laughs, wrapping her arm around yours and leading you back up to the pavilion where Pepper, Tony, and Nat follow.

The next few weeks are full of time spent with your family.

Every day you wake up and have breakfast with Morgana, Thor, or Tony and Pepper until they finally have to leave to deal with kingdom business. Morgana stays. So does Thor. And because you’re not ready for anyone to know about the baby yet, you have to make even more adjustments to your day-to-day life.

Before the castle wakes, Grandmother comes to see you. Often, you’re already up, spewing your dinner into its designated basin. Nat isn’t around this early so it’s up to you to take care of yourself.

Grandmother checks your body, measures your stomach which steadily begins to curve outwards. After a month, your bump is finally large enough to notice, but only when you stand naked or when someone comes to feel it.

Nat does this every day and she has to look for it to feel the hard, little pebble that seems to be growing in your belly.

You’re so happy and it’s dimmed by only one thing.

After lunch you take your reading and writing lessons, and as he always does, his Majesty waits to cross into his council chambers as you exit the large library.

He stops, his eyes devouring the sight of you.

Every time he does it, your cheeks burn, and your neck overheats. Every day he looks bit more tortured.

Finally, after the third week of not speaking with him, he sends word with Nat.

“Another one?” You ask, looking across your room at the vases of flowers that he’s sent. There are gifts still unopened on one of your tables by the window.

They’re lovely, and you are grateful, but you’re starting to think that he may be wanting to buy your affections, so you stop opening them and just stare at the slowly growing pile.

“It’s just him telling you that he’ll be walking in the garden if you ever wish to join him. He’s getting desperate.” Nat’s lips curve into a satisfied half smile.

“Why is that funny?” You wonder, staring at the letter before moving over to your window to try and get a good look at the garden but from this side you can’t see much.

“No one has ever made him work this hard.” She tells you. “With Maggie everything was just decided. They were together one day then they were getting married. It all just fell into place.”

You sigh. “I wanted it to be that easy for us.”

“I know. But I’m glad it isn’t. I think it’ll make you both stronger in the end.” She nods.

With a sigh you turn to look at her, watching her fill your bath.

“What about you?” You demand.

“What about me?” She widens her green eyes, shaking her head as she measures your oils.

“When are you going to stop torturing Bucky and marry him?” You bite.

“Oh, no. Not you too.” Nat gripes.

“You know what? I think that’s a valid question.” A deep voice offers.

In your doorway, Bucky stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

“When are you going to marry me? I can’t keep waiting for you, my scarlet rose. I’m an eligible bachelor. I have many women who would love to be Lady Barnes.” He boasts.

“Oh, is that so?” Nat wonders, eyes narrowed to slits. “Well, then I guess you don’t need me then.”

She shrugs.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, your Majesty. I’m going to go fetch you some more hot water.” She turns and moves past Bucky, nudging him with her shoulder as she passes.

Bucky is speechless, staring at you with confusion as to how his gentle teasing went so wrong.

“What-?”

“You’re really going to just let her walk out after that?” You offer.

“Shit.” Bucky gasps, then sprints from the room after Nat. “Natasha!”

You peek out at the garden again, and this time you can see his Majesty’s wide shoulders and golden head as he waves slowly through the hedge maze in the distance, hands behind his back in contemplation.

Suddenly he looks towards your room and he stops to stare, the two of you sharing in this moment of utter pining.

Will you and he ever be as close as Nat and Bucky?

You rub your tummy and bite your lip.

How long will he wait?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve?” The blonde woman calls, and rounds the gate, eyes searching for him.

Steve?! She calls him, ‘Steve’?!

You stare at him, this new revelation painful.

His mouth opens and shuts as he finally sees past his own happiness to see the discomfort in your eyes.

“Oh.” The blonde says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you—You must be Y/N.”

You know damn well that she should be calling you by your title, so your heart grows a little colder and you carefully yank your hand out of his Majesty’s grip.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She hurries to his Majesty’s side and curtsies before wrapping her arm around his elbow as his own brow furrows as you inch away.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady…?” You wait for his Majesty to speak. He should be the one to introduce the two of you.

She gives his arm a squeeze.

“What?” He looks at her and realizes what’s happening. “Oh, right. Forgive me. This is Lady Sharon Carter.”

Then he hesitates.

You fix your eyes on him, wondering what the uncertainty is for.

“Sharon…” He looks at the blond whose angelic smile is soft and controlled but real and her hand is still around his elbow! She’s a true lady. Like Morgana, so put together and controlled. A golden swan before a dulled brown pigeon. “Sharon is Margaret’s cousin. We grew up together.”

Seriously? Another Carter? This is just perfect.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You tell her, speaking quickly. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Sharon, but I don’t feel well.”

You turn and leave them, storm cloud skirts swishing along your ankles.

You’re inside when you hear the hurried steps that then break into a run before that same heated hand is around your wrist again.

“Wait, Y/N…don’t go.” His Majesty pleads.

As you turn to pull your hand free, his Majesty tightens his grip and so it pulls you closer to him so that you’re standing inches away.

“Release me.” You speak sternly.

“Why are you upset? Did I say something?” He suddenly looks deep in thought, replaying the past ten minutes in his head.

“Your Majesty, please, release me.” You beg.

“Your Maj-? Steve, please Y/N. Call me Steve.” He doesn’t release you. “Why are you trying to leave? You came down finally. Does this mean you’re ready to speak to me?”

And he sounds like he’s finally been put out of his misery. He’s so happy that your heart aches because you made him miserable this past month and you hadn’t anticipated that. You’d only wanted a break from everything he’d brought you. Pain. Humiliation. Neglect.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him in the process.

Once more you attempt to pull yourself free, but he suddenly throws his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest.

“Why are you trying to leave me?” He asks, bringing his voice down low and quiet so that you and he are the only two in the hallway, the castle, the world.

“Did you get tired of waiting for me? Did you need company?” You ask of him, wondering if he’ll pick up on the jealousy you’re feeling. The sting of it is unbearable.

Being jealous of Maggie had been one thing. She’s gone. That blonde…Sharon…she’s right there. Clinging to his arm.

He sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. The heat of his breath warms your lips and your body melts without your permission. He quickly compensates for the lack of resistance and cradles you closer to his body.

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” He smiles a little more, this time it reaches his eyes and they’re so dazzling in their sparkling blue that you nearly forget that you’re upset about the blonde woman with her arms on your husband. “Sharon arrive late last night. She heard that I was in the garden and came to look for me. I wasn’t expecting her.”

He licks his lips, dipping down to wrap his arms, both of them, around your waist better. He stands up straight pulling you along with him so that you’re standing on your toes a bit to compensate for the difference in height.

“I’ve only been waiting for you, pigeon.” He assures you.

Your heart flutters, stomach tumbles, as he scrunches up his nose.

“I’m not sold on the pigeon name.” He suddenly says.

“What?” You gasp, so breathless that it makes him smile a little wider.

“You are not a pigeon.” He explains. “And I’d hate to jinx us and call you a bird only to have you run off on me again.”

“I won’t-”

“I’d rather not risk it.” He sighs and begins to rock his body from side to side, taking yours with it.

“Your Maj-”

“How about pearl? Can you be my pearl?” He shakes his head. “No. You’re full of beauty and elegance. A true Queen. Noble. Royalty. A diamond? Maybe you’re my gem?”

His words sting because they’re all wrong. You’re not a true queen or noble or even remotely royal. You’d be lucky to be on the same level as a pearl. You’re definitely not a gem.

You don’t know what makes you do it. Maybe it’s because you’ve been in such pristine specimens of the upper-class lady in Morgana’s and Nat’s company? And with Sharon here too?

You’re nothing like these women. You’re nothing. No one. A peasant. A commoner.

“I’m not.” You tell him.

“If you don’t like being my gem, we can pick something else.” He says, not understanding.

“I’m no one, your Majesty.” You continue.

“Steve.” He chastises.

“I’m a peasant. Truly.”

He stops rocking.

“Father…King Anthony found me on the side of the road, helping an old woman fetch her purse from a bog. I’m an orphan. I come from nothing and no one. I’m not his true daughter. He wanted to save his daughter and you, and he begged me to do this for him and I agreed…I’m of no consequence.” Your lip trembles, threatening sorrow as you realize that you’ve told him your last secret.

The only one that matters.

He’ll kick you out. You’ll have to go back to Malibia a failure.

“I’m no one.” You repeat.

His face serious, stern, and those blue eyes boring into your own, his arms tighten.

“You’re a Rogers.” He tells you, so certain that your heart skips a beat. “You’re my wife. My Queen. And you’re my flower.”

He smiles slowly, happy at last with his term of endearment.

“And tomorrow, I’ll throw you the wedding feast that you deserved. I’m going to dance with you and make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Especially Thor.”

You huff a laugh. Your heart soars.

He leans in towards you, licking his lips as he does.

You shut your eyes.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice floats down from behind him.

His Majesty breathes in sharply, angrily, frustrated, but turns to look at Bucky while gently placing you back on the ground.

“I’ll be right there.” His Majesty assures him, apparently exchanging words with a mere glance, then turns back to you.

“You have nothing to worry about with Sharon.” He promises, caressing the side of your head. “We’ll continue this soon?”

He’s genuinely asking you for your permission and you nod, so stunned at the sudden shift that your mind is reeling.

He leans down to kiss your cheek.

“I will send for you, Lady Rogers.” He smirks, then leaves you to stare after him and Bucky, your legs numb.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #medieval au #arranged marriage au #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #mcu fanfiction #avengers x reader #pseudo princess #pseudo princess pt15 #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #king!steve x y/n #king!steve rogers x y/n

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

feelings are fatal (16/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,336

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, heavy kissing

masterlist

a/n: Here we go, y’all. Sorry it’s taken me so long. Also... surprise!

“What are we going to do?” You clung to Bucky’s side as a girl might cling to her boyfriend after a long day at the amusement park, resting your head against his shoulder.

He shook his head, feigning as though he was looking for the car.

In reality, he was looking for an exit that wasn’t swarmed with HYDRA agents. You two couldn’t go back since there were even more looking for you in there.

Even with your costume change, you didn’t look that different from before.

It also didn’t help that your mind was still reeling from the kiss. Sure, you had said that it was because PDA makes people uncomfortable and sure, you probably wouldn’t have kissed him otherwise because Lord knows how the last time you kissed him went, but–

You shook your head to clear your mind of the memory. You could replay the kiss later, right now you needed to get out of here safely.

And the sooner that you two got out of there, the sooner that Morgan and Pepper and the others would be safe.

God, it was all your fault. You should’ve known that it wasn’t a good time for you to be going out with them. Not with everything that had been happening. With the way HYDRA had apparently been targeting you, you shouldn’t have been with them.

“Hey. Stop that.”

You looked up at Bucky to find his icy blue eyes already on you. “What?”

He wrapped his arm around you as he went back to looking for an exit. “You’re in your head.”

Fuck. Sometimes you forgot how well he could read you.

“There’s no way Pepper or the others blame you,” he said, his hand rubbing your arm soothingly over his jacket that you were currently wearing. “It’s not your fault, malen’kaya, so stop blaming yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging his hip with yours as you wove through the cars. “How’d you know?”

“Because your brain is remarkably good at convincing you that everything that goes wrong is somehow caused by something you did and it makes you feel like a failure.”

Well. Shit.

You huffed as he let out a laugh, squeezing you tight. “But I’ll always be here to tell you otherwise.”

You rolled over for the eighth time in twenty minutes, sighing as you tried to find a comfortable position. The digital clock on the nightstand read 3:18 AM and you didn’t think you were going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon.

Natasha slept soundly beside you, her gear thrown over the chair on the other side of the bed, along with yours.

It had been a rough few weeks sleeping on the quinjet, and you’d all finally stopped at a sleazy motel if only so all of you could rest for more than three hours at a time.

And yet, you hadn’t gotten a wink.

Your hand covered your mouth as you stifled a giggle, seeing the sight in the other bed in the room.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky were all crowded into one full sized bed.

The argument that had first happened over sleeping arrangements when you got the room had been exhausting. Steve hadn’t wanted to splurge on two rooms and didn’t want the lot of you to be separated. Wanda and Vision were already in a motel a few miles away, getting some much needed alone time.

There had been several different sleeping combinations that you all talked about and subsequently fought about. There was Steve, Sam, and you, or Steve, Bucky, and you, but Steve didn’t want you sleeping with another man in the bed, even though you’d pointed out how ridiculous it was. Then there was the possibility of Steve, Natasha, and you, but Natasha had quickly pointed out that she didn’t want the blond super soldier trying to make out with you (something he was prone to do when you managed to get a motel room) while she was in the same bed.

And so, Natasha and you, the two smallest members of your current team, claimed one bed to yourself while the three men (two of which were the size of river barges) took the other.

They looked like sardines in a can. Steve was in the middle, sleeping on his side since the two others were prone to arguing. Sam was on the side closest to your bed, his mouth hanging open and showing off the cute gap between his teeth. Bucky was on the side nearest the window, his metal arm hanging off the side of the bed and his dark brown hair covering his face. The comforters that they’d been sharing were half hanging off the bed.

You’d had to go down to the front desk to ask for those extra blankets since you were the least recognizable Avenger.

You’d also been the one to get the room while the others snuck in through a back hallway. They wouldn’t be too happy to know that there were actually five people in the tiny two bed instead of just two like you told her.

Carefully, you slipped out of the bed, glancing back to make sure that you didn’t wake Natasha. But she didn’t so much as stir, too deep in sleep to notice the lack of your warmth.

The cheap carpet was rough under your feet as you tiptoed to the glass doors that led out to the balcony. You had to take extra care with the curtain that had been shut tight. The glass door opened with a soft clink, opening surprisingly smoothly.

The cool night air was a welcome reprieve as you leaned against the railing, looking down at the small pool that was lit up a fluorescent blue. There was a small diving board and slide that looked like they’d been built in the seventies.

You closed your eyes as you relished in the feeling of the window tangling through your hair. You were close to the ocean, you knew that much. Maybe Florida? The seashell comforters and shower curtain definitely pointed to yes.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

You jumped, turning to see Bucky standing in the doorway. He was illuminated only by the light from the pool and the moon above. The metal of his arm was hidden by his henley, his hand glinting in the light before he shoved it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“I don’t know how you can wear that,” you said absentmindedly. “Since, you know, you and Steve run hot. And there’s three of you in a bed.”

He shrugged, coming to stand next to you. He made sure to stand on your left, so his right arm was the one closest to you.

He probably didn’t think you would notice.

“I don’t like the cold,” he said, his voice a mere whisper in the night wind.

“Maybe you should retire here,” you said with a faint smile. “Warm sand, sunny beaches.”

“It rains all the time.” He leaned against the railing, his metal fingers clinging softly against the metal. “And New York is home.”

Swallowing, you looked down at the rippling water in the pool. “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this. I know you just want to go home.”

“Not your fault.” He bit his lip as he followed your gaze. Before all the HYDRA stuff, he’d have jumped in and pulled you with him.

But he wasn’t that man anymore.

Being so close to Bucky sent your heart pounding, and you were desperately hoping that he couldn’t hear it.

Or if he could, that he wouldn’t think you were afraid of him.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get back to New York?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Like, when all of this is over?”

“Nap,” he said.

It took you a moment to realize he was making a joke, and you snorted, covering up your mouth.

He seemed delighted in your giggles, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I want a real New York hot dog. From a street vendor. And covered in relish, ketchup, and mustard. And then I’m gonna take myself to the cinema and spend an entire day watching movies.”

“Mind if I join you?” You asked with a weak grin. “I haven’t been to the movies in… Well, in forever.”

“Doesn’t Steve ever take you?”

“He was always too busy.”

Which was true. There was always some mission to go on, some meeting to attend, some paperwork to finish.

“I kept promising to wait to watch movies with him, and then he was never able to go,” you said, frowning as you realized just how often you made plans with your boyfriend, only for him to cancel for work.

“That’s… awful,” Bucky said. His voice was so low and gravelly, almost like a purr. He was looking at you as though he was about to say something more, but he just turned his face back to the pool.

You rubbed one ankle against the other, trying to hide how sad it actually made you. “I knew what I was getting into when I started dating him. Captain America comes first. Always has.”

“I…” Bucky broke off, shaking his head. His jaw clenched in frustration. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It is what it is.”

“We’re running out of time,” you said, half to yourself and half to Bucky.

The HYDRA agents were starting to close in, searching the rows of cars.

“Bucky,” you said softly, your heart racing.

“I know. I’m thinking,” he snapped, clearly stressing out.

It wasn’t like either of you to panic over an ambush, but you’d never had to worry about Morgan or the other kids before.

“We could try the kiss thing again,” he said.

You tripped, catching yourself on his arm. “You want…”

The HYDRA agents were drawing closer and closer.

“Just go with it,” he said as he tried the door of the SUV parked to your left.

Thank God, it was unlocked.

He pulled you inside, the leather seats squeaking under you two. Through the front windshield, you got a glimpse of two agents coming up to the car.

Right as they got closer, Bucky pulled you to him, his lips meeting yours. This kiss was much different than the one inside the park.

It was… passionate. Raw.

His hands held your face so gently, though. You wavered, the strength of the kiss starting to knock you backwards. He wrapped one arm around your waist, dipping under the jacket and holding you tight to his chest. You could feel every ridge of his steel arm through the thin fabric of your shirt.

He carefully maneuvered the two of you so he was sitting down and you were straddling his lap.

A fire spread under your skin from where he was touching you, lighting up your nerves.

Without thinking, you rolled your hips down against his, eliciting a deep groan from the super soldier. His metal arm tightened around you, squeezing you to him. His lips trailed from yours, attacking your neck and nipping at your ear. There was something suspiciously hard pressing into your leg, but you couldn’t stop to… properly investigate.

You were vaguely aware of the two HYDRA agents peering into the windows, their chatter barely audible over the feelings in your head.

“Just a couple sneaking in a quickie,” one of them said, seemingly a little embarrassed by the fact that he had looked in on the two of you.

A whimper escaped your lips as Bucky squeezed your hip, leaning his forehead against yours. He seemed to be just as breathless as you, his chest heaving.

“We should… We should wait a little longer before we leave,” you said, your hands resting on his chest.

He nodded, his nose brushing against yours. The bill of his hat knocked softly against your forehead. “Yeah… Yeah.”

The two of you sat there, neither of you daring to move. The air was hot and thick with tension.

A giggle fell from your lips and you hid your mouth, your eyes crinkling as you looked down at Bucky.

“What is it?” He asked, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Natasha would be so proud of our spy skills right now,” you said, breaking out into laughter.

He quickly followed after, his body shaking from the strength of it. His chest vibrated as you leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. “She would.”

And the strangest thing, was that Steve hadn’t crossed your mind once.

“I think this is the most quiet we’ve gotten in months,” you said, breaking the soft quiet of the car. The atmosphere had shifted, going from being fiery hot to soft and sweet, tender.

“That’s because Sam isn’t here,” Bucky said, running his fingers through your hair carefully.

“Shush, he’s your best friend.”

“So are you.”

Biting your lip, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You’re my best friend, too… Though Morgan might be a little more best than you.”

He smirked, holding you tightly. “As long as it’s Morgan, I’m okay with that.”

Speaking of the kid, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, groaning as you saw a slew of text messages.

From: Pepper

Let me know when you two are safe.

From: Pepper

Hello?

From: Pepper

Are you two okay?

From: Pepper

What’s going on?

From: Pepper

I will call the police and report you two as missing if you don’t answer your goddamn phone.

Bucky chuckled as he read the texts, shaking his head. “She’s in full mom mode.”

“Yeah, but you’re a hundred year old man. If anyone has a mom mode, it should be you,” you teased.

“You’re a minx,” he said as he helped you gently off of him, setting you on the seat beside him.

You straightened out your hair and your clothes, suddenly remembering that you had just been grinding on him a few minutes before. “We should go,” you said as you peered out of the windows, not spotting any HYDRA agents.

“Yeah,” he said, coughing and readjusting the hat on his head.

Biting your lip, you took a moment to just look at him.

You’d found yourself doing that a lot lately. Just looking at him.

He was pretty. Of course, you knew that already. You’d known that since you first met him.

Even when he was all dirty and greasy and more often than not, blood-splattered, he was gorgeous. He was sexy and dangerous and it made you want to be rebellious.

But now, there was something softer to him. There was a kindness in his eyes that hadn’t been there when you were a teenager.

There was a love in your heart that wasn’t there when you were a teenager.

The love that you had for him all those years ago had been a puppy love. Young and fresh. You were clinging onto the one person that protected you, had guided you.

But this… The love that was burning in your heart for the man sitting next to you was something completely different.

It was fiery and passionate and all consuming and holy shit, you were so in love with him.

You could try to tell yourself that it was just like, that you were just in like with him, but you would be lying.

But with that fire, there was a comfort. You knew that he was the person you could turn to about everything. He was the one that you wanted to tell everything to, every dirty little secret, every bit of joy that you found in the new world that had been created after the Blip.

He was your joy.

Your eyes burned as you felt tears rim your eyes, and you quickly turned away as you dried your eyes.

“Ready?”

You turned back to him, your eyes still stinging just a little. “Yeah.”

But you watched, almost in slow motion, as he lunged for the door behind you. “WATCH OUT!”

The doors on either side of you swung open, revealing HYDRA agents that had been hiding out of your sight.

“RUN,” Bucky shouted at you as he punched at the man behind you.

But it was all a blur, and you were in such a small space.

How could this have happened?

You were almost on auto pilot as Bucky managed to get out of the van with you, his hand in yours as the two of you bolted.

How could you have been so reckless?

Your feet pounded against the pavement as he pulled you forward. The two of you were dodging bullets as the agents raced after you.

“Malen’kaya, you have to run left, okay?” Bucky said as you ran.

Suddenly you were grateful for being forced into five in the morning runs for several years.

“Do you hear me?!”

“Yes!” You shouted back, though you were confused as to what was going to happen.

“Remember that day you kissed me?” He squeezed your hand, though he didn’t risk glancing back at you. Bullets were ricocheting off of the cars. “Head for that spot. I’ll meet you there as soon as possible.”

“Don’t leave me,” you said, shaking your head as you clung to him. There was a panic rising in your chest like a tidal wave.

“I have to. But I’ll come back, I swear. I’ll find you.” He did glance back at you then, making you realize that there were tears in his eyes. “I promise. It’ll all be okay.” He swallowed, dodging a Ford Focus. “Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“On three.”

You could do this.

“One.”

You were trained for this.

“Two.”

Besides, Bucky said it would be okay.

“One.”

He would find you. He promised.

The two of you bolted in opposite directions, much to the confusion of the agents.

As you kept running, you were glad to note that there were no civilians in sight. Someone must’ve sounded an alarm and gotten them to stay out of the way.

Your nails dug into the palms of your hands as you ran, pushing even harder as you saw the sign for the New York City Aquarium up ahead.

A glance behind you told you that there were only three agents on your tail. The rest’ve them must’ve gone after Bucky.

You stopped in your tracks, skidding a little, before turning around to face the three agents. They were so shocked by your ballsy move that they barely had time to register what they were doing.

You left them incapacitated on the black top, feeling much more at ease as you approached the Aquarium.

It was completely empty.

Your heart was pounding against your rib cage as you finally made it to the shark tunnel, relaxing as you saw the great beasts swimming above you.

“Hello again,” you greeted softly, pressing your hand to the glass. A tired smile worked its way onto your lips as you leaned against the railing, watching the sharks, while you waited for Bucky.

Maybe… Maybe when he got here, you could tell him how you felt.

After all, that kiss… Well, you couldn’t kiss someone like that if you didn’t mean it, right? You doubted that even Natasha could fake that sort of feeling.

You perked up as you heard footsteps coming towards the shark tunnel. “Bucky?” You called out, heart fluttering as you headed for the entrance.

But you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the agents that were standing there, a black HYDRA symbol emblazoned on their jackets.

The blood was rushing in your ears as you turned to bolt for the exit, only to find several more HYDRA agents blocking your only way out.

You were trapped.

“Sorry,” the one leading the group said as he raised his gun, stepping forward. “I’m not your Bucky.” He pulled the trigger.

And then everything went black.

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

773 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

Like Pulling Teeth...

Request: Okay, so I was just watching a few recent spn episodes and saw Garth episode. Which gave me a curious idea, can you write dentist reader x dean? They're in a relationship, one day when dean eats something, it pains and reader has to look into it? and then the reader says wisdom tooth extraction? Also, the fear of the dentist which dean already has (shown in the episode, I found it very funny) I know it's a weird request but I also think it would be very funny🙈

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Dentist!Reader

Word Count: 1765

Warnings: Dean being a cute, overgrown, a manchild. Light language probably because it’s me y’all. Fluff maybe? Fear of Dentist, I think that’s it.

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

You were sitting at the table alone mindlessly chewing your food, not looking at anything in particular. The bunker was cold and quiet with the boys still asleep soundly in their rooms, or so you thought. Dean and Sam had let you move into the bunker about a year ago, even though you weren't a hunter you had grown up in the life, and finding people that knew about what was really out there, but had some sort of medical training was hard to find. You just happened to be a dentist.

You were also dating Dean, and that's the main reason you had moved into the bunker so that you could be safe. Being in a relationship with Dean automatically drew a large target on your back.

You didn't really care that it drew a target on your back. You had Dean, and he was worth every risk. The sound of Dean's feet dragging across the floor entering into the kitchen pulled you from your blank stare at the wall, and to a sleepy, frumpled hair Dean.

"Morning," he grumbled as he made his way sleepily towards the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup of coffee then making his way over to the cereal and flopping down at the table with you with the box in hand, no bowl, no milk, just the box, but that was Dean, and that's why you loved him. He was who he was and there was no changing it, and you wouldn't even if you could. You loved every little weird, quirky thing about him.

"Morning, you look like you slept well, '' you said with a chuckle as you watched him trying to open the box of cereal. His still semi sleepy state making the task a little more daunting than it probably should have been.

"Yeah, nightmare free for the first time in weeks, a guy can't complain," he said, leaning over and giving you a peck on the lips before grabbing a handful of cereal and cramming it into his mouth, chewing a few times then making a strange face before swallowing, then sitting there looking at the box like it had personally offended him, causing you to giggle into your coffee cup.

"What's wrong is it stale or something?" you ask him, still snickering at him. You couldn't help it, he was just so damn cute in the mornings. Especially when something wasn't going exactly his way.

"No... Uh... It's nothing baby, I'm just not awake yet, maybe I should go back to bed and try again," he mumbled, getting up and putting away the cereal before grabbing his coffee and making his way to his room, giving you a kiss before leaving the kitchen.

You shook your head and then got up to start the day. You didn't have any patients today, so you were going to go on a supply run, and get some cooking and laundry done later. Getting up you started to make the shopping list not giving Dean's little incident too much thought. He was fickle about some things, and maybe something wasn't going his way. You were sure he was fine.

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

Three hours later you found yourself walking down the local supermarket aisle a list in hand, and Dean following you pushing a shopping cart, looking at different things on the shelves and throwing random junk food into the shopping cart that wasn't even on the list, you were sure he was doing some of it just to annoy Sam later, but Dean was an overgrown child in a lot of ways, it was best to let him just play it out. Not get too involved in the whole brotherly things.

You made your way through the store when you came upon an older woman handing out samples of little sausages on a pretzel stick. You didn't even have time to react before Dean scampered by you towards the free food. Returning a few minutes later holding his prize in his hand and grinning at you like he'd done some great thing.

"Want one baby girl? I mean it's literally meat on a stick." Dean said, offering it to you. You laughed at his childlike behavior, shaking your head a little.

"Nope, I'll pass babe, you go right ahead," you tell him, receiving a grin from him before he popped both of them into his mouth proudly.

For a moment everything was fine until you noticed him crewing like he was angry, holding the side of your face.

"Everything okay baby?" you asked him concerned, and started to get a little skeptical. Dean looked at you like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh... Yeah... Yeah, everything's great." he said, plastering a grin on his face, and removing his hand, coming up behind you wrapping his arms around you, making you laugh as an older couple gave you a dirty look for him nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Dean stop! People are watching," you tell him a little embarrassed, momentarily forgetting his little issue.

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

Three hours later you were standing in the kitchen flipping burgers as they sizzled, your mind on Dean's reaction in the store along with this morning's cereal incident.

You were wondering if Dean had started to have the beginnings of a toothache, but you also knew how much Dean HATED doctors in general, but a dentist, yeah that just wasn't going to happen without a strong sedative.

Taking the sizzling meat out of the pan and placing it on the waiting hamburger buns you placed everything on the table along with a couple of beers before yelling at the boys in the library to come and eat their dinner.

You were going to be watching him for sure, and if he showed any signs of discomfort he was going to let you take a look even if you had to drug him.

Sam and Dean marched their way over to the table, and all of you sat down to your dinner.

"Looks great Y/N!" Sam praised you before grabbing his food and making his way towards the door. "If you two don't mind I'm waiting on a skype call from Eileen," he said, grabbing his plate and heading for the door.

"Looks like that's still a thing," Dean said, picking up his burger and taking a giant mouth full of food. Chewing a few times before grunting and wrinkling his nose.

"Dean, do you have a toothache?" you ask him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"NO! I just bit my tongue! I'm fine!" Dean said, before grabbing a mouth full of food, chewing a few times carefully.

You watched him as you ate and you could tell that he was struggling.

Finally, he must have bit it just right because he grabbed the side of his face and whined, looking at you like a little kid who was in deep shit.

"Come clean Winchester!" you tell him sternly and watch him sink into his chair a little.

"I've been having trouble with my back tooth today," he said, "Every time I put pressure on it, it hurts," he finally admitted sheepishly.

Getting up, and grabbing Dean by the hand you head toward the part of the bunker you had set up as an office, all your medical, and dental equipment set up with everything you needed.

At first, Dean followed along without a word, but by the time you got to the door, you were practically pulling him through it.

"Dean Winchester! You get your butt in that chair and let me have a look at your tooth!" you scold him.

"NO!" he said, doing his best to pull away from you. "NO, It will be fine! I'm fine!" he argued with you, ultimately losing the tug of war as you pushed him down into the exam chair, flipped on the overhead light, and straddled his hips to hold him down.

"Listen to me Dean, I'm not going to hurt you, you big baby, now that tooth is just going to get worse, and you're going to let me see it!"

With a defeated look Dean finally opens his mouth, and you see the problem immediately. A Wisdom tooth was causing crowding and needed to be removed.

"Well, Dean looks like we're going to have to extract that wisdom tooth," you tell him, watching the color drain from his face and terror feel his features.

"Dean, you know I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, Baby, I'm going to put this gas on you, you're going to take a nap, and when you wake up the tooth will be gone," you tell him, running your fingers through his hair the way he always liked.

Finally, after a few minutes, he nodded his head, and let you get off of him. Slipping the mask over his face, and attaching the bib around his neck. It didn't look like you were going to have to cut it out, it looked as if you were just going to be able to pull it and be done with it. So hopefully he'd forgive you quickly for what you were about to do to him. You didn't want to see him in pain, and this was the only way to remedy it.

Turning the mask on you watched as his green eyes got heavy, and he slipped into a peacefully deep sleep.

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

A few hours later you found yourself sitting in the Dean cave with Dean and Sam. Sam was sitting on the couch, torturing his brother by eating the popcorn he couldn't have while you were all watching The Shinning. Dean gave his brother a dirty look every time Sam snickered with a bowl of Icecream in his lap.

You did the best you could not to laugh at him. He was so cute when he sulked, and poor Sam rarely got the opportunity to rub anything in, so he was really enjoying himself right now.

Clearing his throat Sam looked up at the two of you while you ran your hands through Dean's hair, and he continued to eat his ice cream ignoring Sam all together now.

"So Dean, I guess you can literally say dating Y/N is like pulling teeth," Sam said, doubling over with laughter. Dean said nothing, just nuzzled in closer to you still holding his bowl of ice cream.

"It's okay baby, Sam's got an appointment later next week for a cleaning, you never know what I might find," you said with an evil smirk as you watch the popcorn fall out of Sam's mouth, Dean laughing uncontrollably laid over in your lap.

"Like pulling teeth huh Sam?" you asked him, and Dean looks up at you proudly.

Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

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#Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #dean fanficiton #dean fic #SPN fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #SPN #spn one shot #jawritter

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j-elaine-hyde · 4 years

Text

The Bean Chronicles: Part 9

Henry Cavill / Reader / Chris Evans

You stood at the sliding glass door staring out at the sunset. Breathing deeply, you felt calm that the only thing that lay in front of you was beautiful crystal clear water.

“Are you feeling any better my love?” Henry came up behind you holding two glasses of wine.

You partially smiled and nodded. He set down the glasses and pulled you into his lap.

“It’ll be ok darling. I promise. Right now? Let’s forget the rest of the world exists. Let’s just enjoy being in Bali, and focus on being happy.”

You had panicked in the car when the news broke. Henry was frantically trying to reach you, ultimately resorting to calling Ashley. She had told him to grab your passport and pack a bag because you were headed for the airport.

Thankfully due to the insane LA traffic, he had time to not only pack your bag, but pack his as well, and charter a jet for the two of you before you even reached the airport. You had hid in the plane waiting for Henry to get there, trying the entire time not to have a panic attack. Thankfully one of the flight attendants hooked you up with a Xanax and a glass of moscato.

By the time Henry arrived you were happily relaxed and napping on the plane. Ashley pulled him aside at the front, “Just keep in touch with me. Let me know how she’s doing. I don’t know where y’all are going, but just keep here there for a week or two. I’ll see you guys when you get back.”

Henry nodded, “Thank you Ash. Listen, would you have the movers come in and get everything over to the new house? I want to surprise her when we get back. And please make sure Adrian has everything he needs for Kal. You’re also now Kal’s emergency contact while we’re gone. Two weeks. Bali. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Perfect. I got you. Safe flight.” Ash trotted down the steps and climbed into the back of the waiting SUV.

Henry walked to the back of the plane where you were stretched out on a sofa. “Hello my love.... I’m here. You ready to get the hell out of town?...Baby are you ok?” He scooped you up and cuddled you. You slowly woke up, nuzzling your face against his chest, smiling once you looked up at his handsome face.

“I love you so much. Let’s run away.” You slid your arms around his neck.

“We are baby. I need you to sit up though, we’re about to take off.”

You didn’t even know where you were going until you were halfway there. At that point you were excited and giddy. After two separate rounds of some mile high club fun in the bedroom the two of you decided to watch a movie. The flight attendant brought in the food that Henry had ordered and handed you a small tray with another Xanax on it.

“Darling, do you really need that?” Henry asked.

“Yes. I do. I’m a terrible flyer despite doing it so often. Thanks to Mindy here, I’m good.” You nodded your glass in a cheers to her as you swallowed the pill.

The first morning you woke up in Bali was unbelievable. You sat on the patio with your knees tucked into the teeshirt of Henry’s you were wearing, watching the sun come up.

You went inside to make some coffee, started it, and went back into the bedroom to wake up Henry.

“Good morning...” you cooed as you crawled on top of him, kissing him repeatedly.

“I request to be woken up like this every morning for the rest of my life.” He said, face smushed into his pillow before turning his face, revealing a beaming smile.

You shifted off of him as he turned, curling up in his arms against him, relishing being the little spoon. “I think I can make that happen...”

He hummed into your neck as he wiggled with contentment. “Good.”

The next two weeks flew by. It was a blissful blur of sex, food, sleeping, and incredible views. You did nothing but relax and be happy. You had turned your phones to airplane mode in LA before you left and hadn’t bothered to turn them back on. Thankfully Henry had grabbed your camera, so you could get pictures. Most of which would have to be saved secretly on the SD card, because neither of you had worn any clothes the majority of your trip.

You wanted to stay there with Henry and never return. You had a pretty good idea of what was waiting for you back in LA and you didn’t want to deal with any of it.

You pouted on the plane ride home. Taking an extra dose of Xanax to get you through.

You landed in the middle of the night, groggily climbing into the back of the SUV, angrily shoving your phone in your purse, refusing to take it off of airplane mode.

Henry hadn’t done so, and turned his on mid-flight to make arrangements to be picked up. Despite putting his phone on silent it vibrated across the table as all of the notifications exploded on his phone. You watched it dance almost off the table before Henry placed his hand over it, catching it. You looked at him and shook your head before dropping it back into your pillow.

Once in the car, you slept the entire drive home and barely woke up as Henry carried you inside, tucking you into bed. It wasn’t until morning that you realized you were in your new home, with Henry sleeping soundly next to you.

You hopped out of bed as quietly as you could and took off into the house to look around. Your closet was full, organized, and straight out of a dream. All of your belongings were put away like you had always lived there.

You walked down to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee to find Ashley sitting at your kitchen counter going overboard with a label maker.

“Hey!! Welcome home!!” She beamed, hopping up to give you a hug. “How was Bali?!”

You sadly smiled, “I didn’t want to leave. I begged Henry to just stay there forever. Clearly he said no, but it was absolutely magical.”

“I bet!” She smiled.

“How bad is it Ash?” You slumped your shoulders and dropped your forehead to the marble counter top.

“It’s not good. I mean. It’s a lot. Everyone feels horrible for hating on you. They’re all super pissed at Chris. And slightly at Henry. But for the most part they all see you as a delicate victim and Chris as the big bad wolf. Henry is still Prince Charming, but ever so slightly shady. Chris’s initial plan has backfired and they’re all calling him out on it.”

“Is it stupid that I feel bad? Like he’s not a bad guy....”

Ashley looked at you with wide eyes as she continued playing with her label maker. “Don’t go getting all soft. He’s an asshole. He shared super private personal information with the world that was no one’s business. He’s a giant asshole. Is he in general a nice guy? Sure. But let’s not forget the shit he’s pulled in the last month just to get back at you.”

She printed off a sticker and stuck it to your forehead as she walked out of the room. “Love yoooouuuu.... just calling it like I see it.”

You were more concerned with coffee and made a cup as Henry walked into the kitchen in only boxers. You stared at his chiseled chest as he walked towards you. He furrowed his brow reading the sticker on your forehead.

“Are you a soft ass bitch today my love?” He gave you a quick peck as he turned to make his coffee.

“Apparently. According to Ash anyway...” you hopped up onto the counter and sipped your coffee pulling the sticker from your head.

“I see Ashley has been having quite a bit of fun with my label maker...” he held up the bottle of starbucks creamer pointing to the ‘Kryptonite: Not for SuperBoys’ sticker she had placed on it. “She thinks she’s so funny....”

“Oh I am. But I see it didn’t stop you from drinking it....” Ashley walked through the kitchen. “Lighten up SuperDude. Welcome home!” She hollered as she continued down the hall.

You sat there stifling laughter as you sipped your coffee. He turned around and took your mug out of your hand, placing it on the counter next to you. Brushing your hair behind your shoulders and away from your neck, he clasped his hands on either side of it, pulling you towards him. “I love you. No matter what they say, we’ll be fine. Do you hear me? It’s you and me....”

“And meeee!” Ashley yelled from somewhere not too far away in the house.

“...and Ashley.”

You smiled, pursing your lips to keep from laughing, before Henry reat his forehead against yours. “I love you Hen...”

“Not nearly as much as I love you.”

You started to slide your hand inside the waist band of his boxers when his phone rang. He pulled away to answer it. “Babe, I’ve gotta take this.” He grabbed his coffee and headed to his office.

Ashley walked in from the other side of the kitchen. “Wait until you see what I did....”

“ASHLEY!!! GIVE ME BACK MY LABEL MAKER!!” Henry shouted from his office.

She started laughing and doing a victory dance. Before hiding the label maker in a cabinet. “Ohhhhh I crack myself up. You’ll see. Just wait. But I’ve gotta go pick up a few things. I’ll be back. If you need anything, text me.”

You sat there in the kitchen enjoying your coffee. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to refresh your cup and take it in the backyard, or if you wanted to track down your phone and see what was going on in the world.

‘Both.’ You decided as you hopped off the counter and ran upstairs to your bedroom. You found your purse and dug out your phone. Skipping back downstairs you swung by Henry’s office, noticing the “Fortress of Solitude” sticker on the door. You popped your head in the door to see labels on hundreds of items in his office. You silently laughed as you snuck away, careful to not interrupt Henry’s phone call. You clutched you’re mug and made your way out to the backyard.

Curling up on the outdoor sofa you sighed heavily as you swiped down and turned your phone off of airplane mode. You set it down on the sofa and watched the screen light up, one notification after the next. There were so many notifications the sound glitched out. You quickly put it on silent, tossing it back onto the cushion to finish blowing up.

“I thought I might find you out here.” Henry sauntered towards you.

“It’s not Bali... but it’ll do.” You shrugged.

“It’s better than Bali. It’s our home.” Henry laid down on the sofa, resting his head in your lap.

“I’m think I’m going to plant some palm trees...” you were looking around the yard as you twirled your fingers in his hair.

“Whatever will make you happy, my love.” He closed his eyes, a content smile on his face.

“Did you find your label maker yet?” You laughed as you asked.

“No. But I will. She labeled everything in my office. She put “Fortress of Solitude on my office door, SuperNerd’s computer on my monitor. The list goes on and on.”

“Don’t get mad Hen... she’s just... we’ll say hazing you. Making you an official part of our family. She’s accepted you into her circle now.”

“Oh I’m not mad.... I’m going to get even. This means war!” He shouted, as he sat up, acting dramatically and waving his fist before laughing and falling back onto your lap.

“Oh lord.... here we go....”

“So have you gotten into it yet?”

You swallowed hard, you knew he was asking about your phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do Darling.... have you?”

You shook your head no, “Nope. It’s glitched out. I turned it off airplane mode and it’s still going. I’ll either get a new number or wait for it to stop. I haven’t been able to get into it yet.”

“I’m sure your publicist is having a heart attack....”

“Oh undoubtedly. Honestly I’m surprised she didn’t show up in Bali.”

“I am too, to be honest. ....So Darling listen... I know we just got back, and just moved in... but filming starts in two weeks... in England.” He sat up. “Would you come with me? We already have a home there, it could use some help.... decorating and what not. But I can’t be without you for that long or that far away. Please say you’ll come with me.”

“Of course I’ll go with you. How long will we be there? You know I want to be anywhere but LA right now. And I’m not letting you disappear again. Ashley would kill you....”

“Filming takes like 6 or 7 months.... but we get breaks... and I think you’ll love it back home. You can meet my family... and I can show you around. It’ll be amazing to take you home.” He was beaming.

“Should we leave tomorrow?” You smiled as you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

#romance #fanfic #fiction #henry cavill #chris evans #fanfiction

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mimiplaysgames · 4 years

Text

save it for the morning after, pt. 2

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 7,384

Summary: Terra learns to trust his body to another.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY TERRAQUA DAY!!! I posted what would’ve been a one-shot last year... then came the messages asking me to expand on that. Considering what kind of writer I am, I don’t know if y’all understood what you asked for: I pick on Terra savagely - it’s dangerous to be my favorite. This piece goes to @lyssala who requested a piece that featured Character C interrupting Characters A and B during moments when they wanted to be alone, when I wanted to celebrate 100 followers on Twitter! I had to split this chapter in two cuz it got too long, so CONGRATS. You get two gifts. <33

~*~*~*~*~

Waking up is a nightmare.

Terra doesn’t remember his dream when he opens his eyes - only the sensation that he’s about to stare into a cloaked face, grinning with sharp canines and bright yellow eyes. His jaws clench badly enough that his teeth grind. His lips feel like they have been sewn shut. He can’t move anything, not his head cemented against the pillow, not his sagging arms or legs, as though the strings he’s used to move them have been cut.

Not again.

He takes in oxygen with short, desperate inhales through his nostrils. His fingers claw into the bed sheets as he tries to take back control.

As pleasant as this bright sunny morning, something presses on his chest, crushing his breath.

Yet, the only thing greeting him is an off-white ceiling.

Falling asleep is usually just as bad. It’s not the act of dreaming that puts him in danger - it’s the transition between consciousness and not that he fights every morning and every night. It’s the feeling of slipping out of fear that he’ll never speak again. If he didn’t have to rely on sleep to stay alive, he would just never close his eyes again.

She shifts next to him, murmuring before quieting.

Terra thanks himself for not moaning or yelling this time. The last thing he needs is to disturb her with his fits.

Aqua rolls over, readjusting her body before nestling into her pillow. She looks so serene like this, bedsheets wrapped tightly around her hips and her breasts exposed, creamy and still.

It’s bright for an early morning - the snow outside reflects the sunlight, painting the entire room in a brilliant glow that illuminates the entire room, including just how pink her nipples really are.

She’s like a mermaid. Precious and rare, something he doesn’t deserve, and he’s the stupidest, luckiest bastard in this world, who has done absolutely nothing to have her in bed with him.

He’s more unworthy than that - he’s in her bed.

Terra lets go of the sheet finger by finger, his breath eventually losing its deathgrip over his throat and settling still, letting his muscles relax and giving his shoulders back some control. Rolling over to his side to watch her, he leans on an elbow. The butterflies in his stomach flurry worse than ever, more excitable than even last night.

Last night… Wow. He can’t believe it all happened. Lying together undressed, touching her, sharing kisses that he dreamt of for years, feeling her on his skin, being inside her, how they exchanged breaths to keep going… now she’s sleeping soundly like she’s in the safest place in the world.

She’s told him before that she has the worst trouble sleeping, but last night, she fell under quite quickly in his arms, taking a spot in the crook of his neck. He’s glad he could help her in any way.

The Realm of Darkness has done an impressive job in preserving her. While Aqua doesn’t smile like she used to, her face is still everything he remembers. Face untouched by marks or lines. Lips pillowy and hair the same color. For her, sleep is peace, very much like the way she used to look when she napped on top of her open books in the library, halfway through an anxious night studying.

She’s been given a second chance at life - they all have, let’s be honest. A rare grace that most will never see. People grow old, they separate from their loved ones, they die. Here two of them rest in a soft bed, keeping their youth, grasping at something like childhood dreams and excitement about their future - but the truth is they’ll never have it again. He’s sorry about that.

And Aqua, she does have scars even if they don’t live on her face. There are scruffs crisscrossing down her arms, two on her collarbone - mostly unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know their history. There is one, faded and white on her bicep, that he inflicted on her one nasty afternoon when he wanted to prove that his brand new Keyblade was stronger than hers.

He paid for that afternoon with a severe lecture and a fifty-page essay.

Then there are others - nastier, some braided, others like craters. One on her ribcage right under her breast that curls and splays. There’s a slash across her entire back, and he’s scared of asking where it came from.

Really scared.

Of course, he has to account for all the scars he can’t see: the ones that make her flinch at night, like Ven walking in on her unannounced, taking her by surprise.

She pays for her second chance at life in plenty of ways.

Despite it all, she’s beautiful. She has always been. And when she’s gray and cranky, she still will be.

Her nose wrinkles and she sniffs - some of her hair strands have fallen in front of her face, tickling her.

When he takes the opportunity to brush her hair - gently, gently - off of her face, Terra lingers in the feeling of silk strands as he collects them behind her ear. He’s always wanted to do this.

Aqua hums, her arms stretching outward. Her chest arches with breath. He jerks his hand away, hoping against hope that he didn’t ruin it.

“Sorry,” he whispers, almost shushing her back to slumber.

Wiggling her eyelids open, the first thing she notices is him. Aqua smirks and immediately covers her mouth with her hand to giggle.

So seeing him struck memories of last night for her, too.

“Good morning,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his voice is rougher than he wants.

She brings the bed sheet up to her nose. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato. This isn’t really her usual self, Aqua has always had too much dignity for giggling. But he likes this sudden melting of her defenses - a flustered Aqua is a cute Aqua.

“Good morning,” she says, almost like she’s about to ask what he’s doing there. Despite covering herself, her smile reaches her eyes, and every time she glances at him, she beams even more.

“Looks like you’ve slept well,” he says with a distinct flavor, like he’s witnessing a scandal.

She narrows her eyes. “What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “You’re…” Naked. I’m naked. “The proof is under the sheets.”

Aqua composes herself, lowering the sheet to her collarbone, and confidently calms her nerves, her eyes whittling away all that childlike excitement from earlier.

But he knows she knows what he’s talking about, though there’s not a hint of shame in her eyes either. She rolls over to meet him face to face.

“I did sleep well,” she says softly, inching closer, looking up at him.

Her intense blue eyes glimmer, especially in sunlight. Drinking in the sight before her, they find solace somewhere on Terra, even though he doesn’t have the capability to give it to her.

Terra’s heart thumps and it’s the loudest thing in the room. His fingers strum the surface of the bed, so close to her face. He could tap her nose and make her laugh. Cup her cheek and let her sigh. Stroke her jaw and finally embrace her.

These are all just fantasies, but he indulges in them. Aqua’s quicker to act. She lifts her head up, closing the gap and taking his lips onto hers.

While the ones they had last night were hungry, maybe even desperate, this one is patient, feeling him slowly, taking him in different angles, exploring the sorts of ways she can invite his tongue to do more.

She gathers her arms around his neck, pulling him as she falls back. When she skates her hands over his shoulders - his biceps and back up to his pecs - his skin electrifies, shooting goose flesh down his spine.

Aqua lets one hand go to fuss with the sheets wrapped around her chest, letting nothing stand between his bare skin and her creamy softness.

The contact shocks him and he has to breathe deeper, taking it in like he’s drowning. It helps him feel her all the more.

More. Everything in his twitching groin needs more.

Gripping her waist in a moment of panic - the kind where he’d never feel her again if they let go - Aqua responds by pushing with her weight, rolling him onto his back, pulling them together with her hands on his jaw, her messy kisses pulling hard on his lips (they still need to practice).

Terra in the meantime glides his fingers up and down her back. Her scar is as long as the list of consequences that could all be traced back to his mistakes. Longer than that - as long as a trail that would lead out the bedroom.

The one under her breast splays like a mess of bare branches in the dead of winter, and he holds his palm there firmly, like he’s trying to keep them from ripping more.

How does he tell her with anything but words that he didn’t quite understand the extent of pain, of how far it could go, until he was possessed?

Is there such a thing as a hug comforting enough or a held hand loving enough to measure that?

His hands go to her hips, and squeeze what plumpness she has. He lets her make the decision to rock against his pelvis. Only then does he apply the pressure, make her pant against him.

Terra becomes more impatient, and he kneads her with both hands, starting with her ass before climbing up, taking notice of how her nipples harden under his palms.

The kiss breaks with her smile.

“What?”

Aqua is already red from the flush, but now she’s worse for wear and she’s trying to hide it. “Your hands are so big.”

“They are?” He doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Her breasts fit his palms just fine, supple and round. Letting one go, he tests the size by comparing it to her face; it covers everything, from his wrist on her chin to the fingers digging into her hairline, his palm taking up the entire space across her cheeks that he can only see dashes of her eyebrows. “They are.”

She chuckles into his hand, giving it a quick peck before caressing it. Her breath composes itself, and her smile is content. Her gaze is full of light, welcoming him in, and it makes him feel protected. Safe enough to surrender. Maybe even forgiven. She’s about to come back down, and they can continue. He can let her shine on him, let himself go and forget all about this horrible morning-

A knock on the door. “Aqua?”

Aqua sits straight up. Immediately clamps down on Terra’s mouth with her hand.

Everything suddenly… slams to a stop, and Terra’s erection writhes, begging.

Worst timing, Ven.

“Y-yes?” Aqua calls.

Terra stares at her with bulging eyes. Please don’t leave me like this.

She smirks.

“Terra’s not in his room,” Ven says through the door. “And I’m hungry.”

“Okay-”

Terra bucks up against her, gnawing at her toned thigh. It makes her gasp and wrestle with a smile.

“I’ll be right out, Ven,” she says, trying so hard not to choke on a laugh. She gives Terra a sympathetic smile, and quickly, silently pecks his lips before peeling off of him and pulling him out of bed.

His sternum grows stones and they all sink to his stomach.

Pushing him into her bathroom, she scrambles to pick up all of his items of clothing: his pants, shirt, briefs… is that everything? Yes. She throws them in a heap against his body before quietly turning the knob and closing it.

Her bathroom is chillier than the bedroom, and Terra rests his back against her closed door, grimacing.

Rustling behind him - she hurries to get dressed, calling out a You can come in, Ven, before turning her attention to her bed sheets.

“Sorry,” she says as footsteps approach her.

Terra keeps his breath steady and inaudible - but it’s so hard. Really. He’s still ready to go, the throbbing in his groin becoming agonizing. It tingles like an interrupted sneeze - worse than that, like a desperate itch with an uncomfortable squeeze - and he pushes and stretches his shaft to make it uncomfortable, just so it would calm down.

It doesn’t calm down. Why.

“I overslept,” Aqua continues.

Without a pause, Ven says, “So you must have really slept well, that’s great news!”

Terra swallows a groan.

Aqua rustles some more. He imagines she’s nodding, trying to find the right words. “It does feel good.”

“Do you know where Terra is?” the twerp says.

Terra will tell him where Terra is. Terra flips the shower on, only the cold knob. His erection needs it.

There’s an uncomfortable pause from the other side of the door, and Aqua has stopped making her bed.

“Is that him using your shower?” Ven asks.

“His isn’t working.” She sounds so confident.

There’s another pause - something about it, maybe the way Aqua finishes her words so trepidly, that makes the silence seem longer even though it isn’t.

“It smells weird in here,” Ven says, slowly.

“Terra is filthy,” Aqua says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “Ven, when I finish getting ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Terra is sure she’s probably throwing daggers with her eyes through the door and he grins at the thought. Most of his pranks are usually thought-out and have some figment of imagination, but this has to be his new favorite.

Cold water stabs at his skin - it’s terrible enough to make him forget every mood he’s experienced since waking up. He picks up her lavender bar of soap. It smells so different than on her skin, and it invigorates all of his senses. He never thought he’d get the chance to. But here he is, in her shower, covered by a turquoise curtain and seeing how neatly her toiletries line up.

Ven must have left by now, because Aqua knocks on the door, telling him where she’ll be… after breakfast they’ll all be outside to shovel snow from the lower windows and pathways… have a snow fight, that will be fun… and maybe she’ll see him later? There’s hope in her voice, shyness even.

~*~*~*~*~

Outside, he can’t help but stare at the way the sun gleams off of the snow. He has to shield his eyes from the way it blinds him, and yet it makes him grin from ear to ear.

Consider how much better it is than a decade of nothingness.

They were absolutely buried last night, but they all survived.

Snow blocks the front and back entrances of the castle, tall enough to reach Terra’s hips. The trees all sag from the weight, and the fields have hills on them now that don’t exist in the spring.

What a chore though - his friends don’t understand what it takes out of him anymore, now that he’s back in a body he’s lost touch with for years (to the point that he used to forget he ever had one). Shoveling is a skill that demands all the power in his biceps and triceps, his shoulders, his rhomboids, all the way down to the lower back, straining to the point that it feels like a heavy ball is chained into his skin, pulling down.

At the same time, he sweats profusely underneath all those layers, like he’s trapped in an oven, baking for two hours past the point of well-burnt. It makes him want to strip naked and run down the woods.

If Aqua and Ven are enjoying the cold in their faces from the exposure, or finding comfort in the heat of their snug clothes… they’re lucky because they can’t compare. They don’t feel as strongly as he does.

Terra hunches over the terrace, staring at the snow gathered along the stone railing.

He’s on fire.

Freeing his fingers from his gloves and throwing his knit hat off, Terra plants his bare hands into the snow. It stings. Then it burns in a different way, quick to sear.

“Doesn’t that hurt, Terra?” he hears Ven ask, skipping over to him.

Terra groans. It’s too much - too much cold, too much heat, yes, even from this morning, lingering and gnawing and asking for release… But he can’t think about that or Aqua right now, it will make it worse. It’s all Ven’s fault.

“It’s actually nice,” he mutters, grabbing fistfuls, nearly wanting to plant his face into it.

“I guess…” Ven means well. He doesn’t understand what it feels like to be a maniac (his words, not Terra’s). “Making a snowman?”

Terra continues to collect the snow into a ball - it’s massive now, definitely fit for a base.

He grins, and the sight of it strikes nervousness into his best friend.

“What are you-”

Whump.

Ven pummels backward, slammed in the face by a mound of snow. It was so large and heavy that Terra had to carry it in both hands, and it buries Ven when he lands.

Spitting snow out of his mouth, Ven’s nose is now red from the cold. “That’s not fair, we aren’t supposed to have a snowball fight yet!”

Not fair was the interruption this morning.

“Better now than never,” Terra says, lightly stomping the ground with his foot. The earth beneath layers of frozen water hears his call. It vibrates, radiating upward, and a wave of snow bursts outward and covers Ven from head to toe.

“You’re crazy!”

Ven crawls out of his frigid entrapment, and Terra prepares another massive heap. Something about this is very gratifying. He should pick on Ven more often.

“Heads up!” Ven yells.

A tiny snowball that Ven grabbed in a second - inconsequential, honestly, in comparison to the boulder Terra has now - strikes Terra on the neck.

It’s just the thing to take the beast down.

Snow runs down his inner coat, like a million needles pricking all those sore muscles that got a beating earlier from shoveling. They tense up until they’re hard as bone. It’s cold. Shit.

Terra falls on his knees, beating his shoulder to warm it up as much as possible, but it only gives the snow momentum to scuffle into his pants.

“Aaaaaaaaand,” Ven boasts, “he’s down.”

Terra staggers, the snow burning his hip and trickling down his thigh. He manages to stay on his feet, his skin getting numb. Then he lunges forward.

Ven shrieks and laughs, taking off, running as fast as he can from big, bad Terra. He’s much faster than either of them, yet they sometimes forget.

Terra underestimates Ven all the time, who is now disappearing into a thicket, but he doesn’t care. Running pumps blood into the right head. The wind brushes through his hair and it chills him all the more, overwhelming with the smell of fresh air, the sting of the light reverberating off of the whiteness, the unresolved frustration, the bead of sweat which has frozen itself on his forehead.

But more than the fact that Terra feels too much is that he’s tired. Sprinting can only get him so far (or so near, compared to how fit he used to be before the fall). He’s quick to lose stamina, and his foot sinks deep into a pot of loose snow. He trips, landing face first.

It’s cold and it burns, but Terra is relieved from all other sensations just the same.

~*~*~*~*~

Now he can’t shake off the shivers.

Aqua sets a hearth ablaze in the fireplace, a haven within the library on the first floor, close to the doorway which would eventually lead to the dining room. Everything about the bottom floor is situated like a home fit for a family. It’s expansive, where all the hallways interconnect so no one can get lost. It’s where all the pleasant memories live.

This isn’t the place where they had their first kiss, though. Nothing on the first floor can hide.

Terra rests on the lounge chair, a massive thing that swallows anyone smaller than him in a dark forest green. It looks black now that the sun has dipped behind the mountains so early today.

It’s a deep enough color to hide all the torture that three rambunctious children have whipped on the poor thing. Terra has a faint memory of where the stains might be, but he can’t find any.

The fire isn’t enough. Terra has an ocean blue blanket to boot, wrapped around his shoulders. Aqua’s. She’s always been the neatest of the three, so he can’t imagine this would have any evidence of foul play.

The door behind him creaks and he hears soft, bare footsteps approaching him. Unlike her, sound doesn’t really make him nervous.

But having her near him does. Always has, and maybe always will.

“Doing better?” She puts a warm hand on his forehead for the fifth time that evening to check for a fever. She was the one to find him slumped and groggy in the snow outside. Of course. “You’re still cold,” she mumbles.

At her touch, his heart beats obnoxiously for his attention, like a shrill child being purposefully ignored. Look, look, she’s touching us!

He groans.

“No, you’re not okay?”

“I am,” he says. “I just hate how I’m feeling.”

Aqua grins, taking a seat on his armrest, bringing one bare leg to her chest. She’s wearing shorts, and Terra takes a quick glance over. A baggy sweater covers most of her body, and his heart is now thrashing, knowing exactly what it looks like underneath.

But it’s her eyes that hold him still.

“You’ll get used to it,” she reassures him, nodding into her knee.

That’s usually her answer, and she’s right: the day he came back, the minty taste of mouthwash burned a hole through his jaw, and he had yelled from the pounding in his ears. You’ll get used to it.

Now, it just gives him a tense headache. See?

It’s her confidence that he finds so comforting - like she knows all these hyper-feelings will sort themselves out if he gives it another day (or week, or month). After all, she has said before, he’s been out of commission for so long.

Terra wonders if she’s ever said that to herself, night after night in the Realm of Darkness. It’s okay to be alone right now, I’ll get used to it.

Aqua does such a fantastic job holding it together, even late in the night, when he almost expects her break. She never does. How does she do that?

Love is such a strong word to use, but it’s the truth.

Terra knew it as a child. Aqua had begged him to play a tea party with her, under very specific conditions: she was the lady knight and he was the princess. She made him wear an apron and a paper tiara to play the part. As much as he begrudged the idea, the moment she told him he was holding the teacup wrong, he knew - he was going to marry her.

Adults would say that children wouldn’t know any better, but child-Terra knew his heart, and he knew it would never change.

He loves her now, as vibrant as the forest becomes the moment the rain hits. One day, he’ll get used to the feeling and won’t feel the need to cry at the thought.

He thinks about telling her what his last thoughts were, right at the moment he lost it all: her cerulean eyes. How there is the faintest sliver of amethyst in them if they reflect off the sun at just the right angle if he was close enough to see, like a secret jewel nestled in the shallow water of a beach...

“You’re right, I will,” he mutters.

“No more knocking yourself out in the wild?” She chuckles. “Please don’t worry me like that again.”

“I won’t, I’m sorry.”

She hums. “It’s nothing to be sorry about.”

There’s a lot to be sorry for.

Terra’s eyes fall for just a second. He can’t kick the habit of struggling with his own existence sometimes, but she finds reason after reason inside that insane mind of hers to smile when she looks at him. She forgives him way too many times, and it makes that small girl who barked at him for sipping his tea too loudly at a dainty party seem so distant.

Aqua brushes the tips of her fingers on his knuckles, leaning forward. “I’m…” Stopping herself, she searches the carpet for something to say, anxiety creeping into her face. Try as she might to say more, she can’t bring herself to. She’s chipping.

Terra turns his palm over to take her hand in his. She’s the one to thread their fingers together.

He doesn’t know why everything knots in his throat either, too apprehensive to come out. Love is a strong word to say after years apart. He’ll let her say it first, lest he scares her more.

If she ever does. Though he’s not scared of it himself.

The sound of footsteps approach from the hallway, and Aqua releases him before straightening herself out.

Terra’s heart sinks at the silence that crashed between them, uninvited. It drowns when it gets to his stomach, but it will breathe eventually.

“Chicken soup for the big loser,” Ven announces, rolling a cart with a boiling pot behind him. There’s a stack with three bowls, and spoons.

Terra and Aqua don’t say anything back, readjusting their posture and pretending that nothing has occurred this moment, this day, or last night. Terra brings his fingers - the ones she held - to his lips. They’ve made contact for so little that he can’t smell her scent on them, but her warmth lingers.

Ven’s about to tease some more when he glances at each of them. “Am I… interrupting something?”

“Not at all, Ven,” Aqua says sweetly, composed. She approaches his work, all the pieces that have crumbled away coming back to her. “It smells delicious.”

Ven tosses a pout at Terra, who’s uncharacteristically quiet in the vicinity of savory food, but Terra gives back a reassuring smile. It’s dimmer than he wants it to be, and Ven’s smart enough to notice it, but he says nothing.

The rest of the evening passes with pleasant conversations, as it goes:

They have never found a good enough reason to talk about anything else. Why bring the darkness back inside when they make a habit of lighting all the lamps at night?

In every case when one of them is ready to talk, they lock up. Swallow. Cough. Next question.

Pleasantness has its tremendous advantages, as it reminds them the worth of being alive: the warmth of drinking this wonderful soup together, the joy of sharing a joke, the thrill of panicking over the thought that Ven could catch Terra and Aqua in the middle of a compromising position.

They belong together, the three of them. Wayfinders were specifically made for that pact, and that’s something Terra would never trade anything for... he just wants something more from Aqua, and that shouldn’t break the delicate balance between the three. It shouldn’t, and maybe he’s still naive to think that way.

When the evening sweeps into night, Terra falls into a slightly different dance with Aqua. Lingering looks across the hall, right over Ven’s head, followed by nervous chuckles, with the grand finale of never whispering about what they would do before bed (if they’re going to bed together at all).

And when Ven finally retires to sleep, it’s just the two of them, with nothing left except to improvise.

Nothing in their timid conversations gives Terra the right opening to bring the subject up.

He’s ready to expect it’s just him and his hand tonight when Aqua holds his wrist to keep him from returning to his room alone.

“Do you want to…” Aqua hushes. She brings her hand up to brush her hair out of her face but it stops right before contact, like she’s lost the way. “Um…”

“Sleep with you?” Terra blurts out.

A shocked grin stretches across her face.

He stammers, running a hand through his hair.

There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with her - in fact, the night they came home, they all slept in the same bed, just so they didn’t have to be separated.

Terra’s being dumb - of course sleeping has a different connotation now, even between best friends. Why is it so awkward to bring it up in conversation? It was so much easier this morning when they woke up naked and could do what was natural from there.

Leaning on her door frame, bringing himself closer to her body, Terra braves what’s really on his mind.

“I- I’ve been thinking about it all day… I want to kiss you again.”

Aqua considers him for a moment. She stands on her toes and brings her mouth to his for a small peck, for a second, for a third, longer one.

She eyes Ven’s closed bedroom door nervously - it’d be a hell of an explanation if he catches them now.

So Terra steps into her bedroom, barely illuminated by a single desk lamp that’s living its final days, and she closes it behind him.

Whipping around, Aqua throws her arms around Terra’s neck, aching for a fourth kiss and so many more that neither of them can keep count. Terra squeezes her waist to his body, bending over to meld her to him while she digs into his hair.

Somehow, holding her this closely isn’t close enough.

When Terra massages the small of her back, it rustles her sweater so that his fingers make contact with her skin.

Aqua takes this as her cue, tugging at his shirt. She breaks contact (for an excruciating second) to pull it over his head and he responds in kind by undressing her sweater and tossing it.

With her bare, soft, springy breasts against his chest, he tastes her lips, her tongue… They have to pant for breath in between but they can’t take the hint to pause. And yet -

They still aren’t close enough.

Terra picks her up by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his hips to carry her. She buries her face in his shoulder to muffle a laugh, and she yelps when they fall together, bouncing on her bed.

With her head against her mattress, he can now kiss her deeper. His pajamas are so thin he can feel her pelvis in every way when he thrusts and he’s dying to take them off but he doesn’t want to part from her mouth either.

They’re running fast, desperate to finish what they couldn’t from this morning, and he doesn’t know what he should do next - if he should be focusing on some area on her body, or if she’d like him to do something and he’s not understanding what she needs.

So Terra slows down, savoring her bottom lip, bringing the whirlwind to a breeze, letting them both breathe easier.

He grazes her jawline and she trembles when he gets to her ear, lingering at a spot he discovers really makes her shiver. She squirms like she finds his lack of speed unbearable, grinding her hips up onto his. He groans.

She still makes a point to whisper. “On your back.”

So bossy. Terra stops to snort. “Those are fighting words.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You first,” he says, his voice rough.

“I mean it.”

Aqua’s hands push against his shoulders, massaging every curve in his pecs, and her legs wrap around his as she makes the first attempt to roll him over.

“Terra.” Her breaths deepen when he stays in place.

“I insist.”

He isn’t going to let her make him the focus of all her attention just yet - and they both know she’s always lost at wrestling with him.

She tries her game anyway, lifting herself to reunite his lips with hers while they sit up.

Both options are tempting. Terra can surrender to her, melt under her touch so she can have her way, and let her think she’s won. That’s a nice fantasy… but he doesn’t like losing either.

He laughs into her smile, grabbing her wrists and bringing them over her head. He holds them together in between the thick fingers of one giant hand, and brings her weight down with his. He’s won, easily.

Then he takes his other hand to brush his fingers across one nipple, from top to bottom, while his lips find a good spot on her neck that makes her whimper. She rocks her hips with his, coaxing him into a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Her shorts are also thin, and she’s wet through the fabric. It sets him on fire, sparking from his pelvis and burning up to his chest. It’s so hard to resist her.

“What are you doing,” he murmurs, and he feels her giggle from underneath her pulse.

“Playing a strategy.” She gasps and tenses from his nibbling. “I think I’m winning.”

Traveling down her collarbone, Terra finds himself at her breasts, taking his first taste for the night while rolling circles on the other, eliciting a moan from her - one she keeps stifled, so she’s not too loud.

“Not yet,” he says.

“Give it time,” she says, bringing one leg to hook around Terra’s hips.

Terra growls into her skin. She’s making it difficult.

She’s winning.

“Dammit, Aqua,” he whispers into her chest before standing up, taking her shorts and panties with him before fumbling with his pants.

Pleased with herself, Aqua rises to meet him, a hand snaking down his abdomen, playing with the tuft of hair before going lower.

He’s weak when she strokes him, when she grabs him, when she rubs the entire length, twisting her hold. She’s a quick study, and the gooseflesh crawling all over his back slips him into a stupor. He tumbles over the bed. His pants bind him by the knees still, but they’re forgotten.

Straddling him, Aqua settles. Slowly, too - she’s adjusting herself to him before taking him fully, and if he didn’t know any better, it feels like the sweetest, sickest comeback for teasing her so bad.

A shiver strikes through his spine when he gets warm and she gets tight. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud.

Meanwhile, Aqua experiments with her movement, her angles, her speed, whether she should rock her hips back and forth. She looks good on top of him, naked and bouncing and enjoying herself, running her palms across his carved abs, feeling the ripples where his skin dips. Something about the way she leans her head back sends Terra on a high.

His hands feel everything. He measures how her waist curves inward before following the trail out to her hips. The muscles on her thighs buck with every thrust she makes.

It doesn’t matter how she looks: with or without clothes, in bright light or in poor light, even with shadows chiseling her amazing form, none of it does her any justice.

She’s beautiful. He’s lucky.

The more she moves, the more he comes closer to that brink, and he’s too drunk to find the words to tell her. The best he can do is moan her name, and when she gently shushes him, it turns him on even more.

But then his heart beats too hard. It stings as sharp as a cut.

The monster with the sharp canines smiles. Snaps its jaws.

The brink will make him fall over (and never get back up again). He’ll die. No. He’ll lose control. Go to sleep. Lose her forever, all over again.

Terra grips her hips and lifts her off of him. “No no no no,” he says, lurching up, leaning over the edge of the bed. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Terra?”

He shudders from the heat rising to the top of his head. His hands tremble violently, and he rubs the pads of his fingers against his palms to make sure he can still feel. Gritting his teeth together, Terra takes all he has to stop himself from yelling - no need for Ven to spring out of bed and burst in here to save the day - and the effort withers Terra to exhaustion.

Aqua holds the back of his hand - very gently, brushing her fingers first to test if he’d have a strong reaction. He realizes that he never responded to her.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Terra holds her face, stroking the worries off of her cheek with his thumb. “You were,” he swallows. Even in such dim light, her eyes keep their rich brightness. “You’re perfect.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him. A dark thought trickles in his mind, and suddenly he can’t look at her anymore - she must be so disappointed with his awful performance.

“I’m just a basket case, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t say that.” She gifts him the most generous smile, one he doesn’t understand. But that’s Aqua, never asking for something in return.

She hugs him warmly, giving his shoulders a steady hold as if to keep him up.

Despite how big of a man Terra is, now he is fragile, wilting into her strength. He wants to be more like her, to keep himself together. Silent tears stroll down his cheeks until they land on her bare shoulders and continue on their way.

With his palm, Terra rubs their existence off of her skin.

A much-needed chill comes down his spine - she’s cooling him off with her magic, letting the Blizzard gently wisp off of her fingers.

“Can you talk about it?” Letting him go, Aqua throws her feet over the edge of the bed to join him, side by side.

Terra cannot. He stares at his knees, throwing glances at her to create words out of thin air.

Aqua threads her hand under his arm to interlace their fingers together, resting them on his thigh. Her hand is so small in comparison, but in Terra’s opinion, it’s a perfect fit.

“I think I have an idea of what happened,” she says when she’s waited long enough. “Even when we spar, you don’t let yourself go all the way.”

Feeling like he’s finally seen, Terra unravels. “What if I lose it and go crazy? What if I hurt you?”

She eyes him for a moment. At first she’s full of concern, but she’s the type that when she faces anything that intimidates her, she’ll find a reason to stay brave. “Then I retaliate. I’m good at that.”

It sounds like such a simple and logical answer that Terra can’t help but feel silly for never considering that she’s stronger than he is.

Yet there’s plenty to worry about - she deserves a better lover that wouldn’t have fits in the worst of times, or threaten to kill her in the best.

“I know,” she continues when he says nothing. “It’s weird to have good things.”

Terra huffs. Drawing his voice low, he says, “Aren’t we supposed to tell ourselves that we deserve them?” She shifts uncomfortably against his arm, and he chuckles cynically. “Maybe we can hope.”

“No,” she drawls, rubbing circles on his knuckles with her thumb. “Hoping is dangerous.”

The scar on his chest is rough under the touch of his palm. Those have been the truest words he’s heard in years, and they worry him. If they continue to try again, he’ll continue to dissatisfy her, with no guarantee he could give her what she wants.

“It feels like,” he says, “willingly jumping off a mountain.”

Aqua leans her head on his shoulder, watching the stillness of her carpet with him. It’s as dark as the deep sea.

“It does. We’re supposed to stay optimistic, and the letdown destroys us until it numbs. And then there’s nothing left.”

“And then there’s nothing left,” Terra whispers back.

“Wishing is a little safer.” He feels her smile into his bicep.

“That’s more like willingly drowning yourself.”

“Taking one swallow isn’t too bad by comparison,” she says, squeezing his hand harder. Her cheek trembles, and her eyes dart back and forth across the room. She’s chipping again. “Can I make one wish?”

“Of course.”

It takes quite a moment before she speaks again, and all he hears is her ragged breathing. It almost sounds like she’s about to cry, but she doesn’t. She’s a miracle.

“I wish for a good night’s sleep. I wish you’d stay in bed with me. I wish for more time with you, and… I wish you’d come back tomorrow night. Or maybe I could go to your room. Either way, I don’t want us to stop.”

Since he’s been expecting her to wish him away, Terra chokes on a sob. He wants the same, and he wants to say it, and he wants to kiss her again but he’s shocked. If he slips one word, he’ll fall apart and she’ll have to carry him all over again.

He squeezes her hand back, and all the tears wanting to pour out of his eyes find their place in the strength of his grip, and they stay dry.

As though she understands what he’s not saying, she smiles. “It’s a journey, just like everything else, right? I think there’s every reason to step off that cliff, and I want to be there with you when we do.”

Terra sits with her words, comfortable in the quiet. It’s not like they had a teacher to coax them in the right direction about the art of tumbling in bed. In the privacy of his mind, he can pretend the reason she’s willing to be patient is because she loves him, too.

“I needed to hear that,” he says, his pajamas slipping off of his ankles. He’s completely exposed but his skin is just the outer shell. The fact his soul has been heard is the most naked he’s ever been. “I’m impressed.”

Aqua holds her breath. “You’re impressed? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stifles his snickering but it only makes it harder not to laugh.

“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” she says, giving him a playful shove. “I know I put my foot in my mouth, sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“Which means I’m sensible other times.” She holds up a finger to make a point.

Terra lifts the hand he’s holding and kisses the back of it. She’s still so much like the girl who glared at him when he slurped his tea. “Whatever you say, I’ll play along.”

She shoves him harder and finds herself in his clutches, under threat of unbearable tickling. She locks her laughter up so hard that it slips out in squeaks. Without her magic, she’s completely futile against his ferociously giant hands. She admits defeat when they fall on their backs.

Now they rest, and she’s finally close enough, their bodies locking warmth in between.

They whisper good night through soft, innocent kisses. Aqua finds refuge on his shoulder while her arms go limp on his thick waist, one leg tucked in between his, burrowing her body into his. Every time she drifts in and out and remembers that he’s with her, she inches closer.

How she wants to be near him this much blows his mind. He tells himself he’ll get used to it.

Her breathing slows as he rubs circles on her back, and soon enough, she’s asleep, like she knows nothing except a world without nightmares or shadows.

It’s been a long time since he’s thought about when they first started sparring - how they paused before striking, how they confused a cue for another and hit each other when they weren’t supposed to, how they bickered and teased when the course of the game adjusted to their skill level. They didn’t know what they were doing then.

Last night, she gave him the benefit of the doubt, too, telling him all they need is practice.

Now’s the perfect time than ever - Terra whispers into her hair until he finds it easier to say, knowing she won’t hear him until he’s ready to face her.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I SWEAR this will end happily. I swear it. To be continued.

#terraqua #terqua #terraqua day #terra #aqua #smut #lemon #kh fanfic #kingdom hearts fanfiction #i felt a lot more comfortable doing it this time than last year #then again i downed two bottles of wine for this #my fic

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starrybbarnes · 5 years

Text

the 5 times you serenaded Bucky, and the one time he serenaded you. [b.b.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: there are 5 times you sang to bucky, and 1 where he signs to you :) aka an insight on my music taste.

Word Count: 3684 (a whole ass story, y’all.)

Author’s note: this has taken me about 2-3 weeks to write. the writer’s block is strong. also, school has started for me, so maybe this’ll motivate me to start doing drabbles/shorter writings. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Warnings: some swearing, drug use (?), lowkey fluff that makes you cry, the fact that its a long ass fic?? need I say more.

The First Time

It was a total accident. No, seriously. Bucky swears on it.

No, Bucky didn’t walk in on you half-naked or sneaking out the window. He accidentally heard you sing.

You shouldn’t be surprised though, as you always had a musical inclination. Whether it be singing, humming, strumming your guitar, or creating a beat with your pencil, music had always occupied your time. Today, it just happened to be laundry day, and you were singing along to the Chain while folding your clothes.

It was a warm summer afternoon, and you had left the door to your room, so in Bucky’s defense, you weren’t technically singing in private.

And so there you were, folding some t-shirts, practically screaming the lyrics. Of course, whenever one is singing obnoxiously loud, there’s always someone that is listening.

You and Bucky are on good terms with each other and talked a lot. However, you were harboring a crush, but you simply can’t tell whether or not he feels the same. With his actions, it clearly shows that he cares deeply for you, but his words say otherwise (or lack thereof). It’d be frustrating sometimes, and your song choices would reflect that.

Running in the shadows

Damn your love, damn your lies

Bucky’s ears perked up in the kitchen, hearing the harmonies bouncing across the walls. He thought his mind was playing tricks because it was like the world stopped making noise to make room for the voice.

He placed his drink down, and slowly started walking towards the music. As he walked closer, he heard the harmonies much more clearly. Whoever was singing honestly knew what they were doing, and they were really good at it.

His steps slowed down as he realized whose voice it was when he reached the doorway. There he saw you, immersed in your laundry while you were passionately singing. He was blown away by how you sang, while also listening to the nature of the song. Something in him just a mile a minute, and now everything makes sense.

As the song ends, you turn off your speaker and turned to face the door. You gasped and drop some freshly folded shirts to the floor.

“Jesus, Bucky!” you sighed in relief, “let me know when you’re staring at me!”

Bucky couldn’t muster out an apology, he was left dumbfounded. “You… sing... Pretty?”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it,” you said while laughing. “I’m not sure how much you heard, but hopefully I wasn’t bothering you.”

“N-No!” Bucky stammered, “I heard almost everything, but it was amazing. Almost made me drop my orange juice.”

Your face softened as you walked closer to Bucky, and reached for his cheek. “Guess I’m your siren now, Buck. Come on, I’ll show you some of my other favorite ‘tunes’ to sing to.”

。。

The Second Time

Bucky had now been accustomed to the singing heard around the compound. Every time he could, he’d compliment you on it, showering accolades on accolades. And every time, your face would flush pink.

One of Bucky’s favorite parts of hearing you sing is actually hearing you sing songs that never in a million years he would consider his favorites. But sometimes, when he was too engrossed in hearing you sing, that he wouldn’t pay attention to the lyrics.

You were in the kitchen, chopping up some cucumber for your dish, the song Keeping Tabs playing in the background. This was one of Bucky’s favorite songs to hear you sing to. It was super mellow and your harmonies complimented it perfectly.

Bucky was seated on the couch, reading a magazine while Steve sat across from him, taking a super-soldier nap. Even Steve would agree that your singing would lull him peacefully to sleep.

As you were cooking, the chorus started playing and you were singing along:

I've been tripping off the tabs in my room

I don't know why, baby, but I'm feeling blue

You didn’t notice Peter walking into the kitchen, a look of confusion washing over him. “Uh, Y/N?” Peter chimed.

“What’s up kid?”

“I don’t mean to sound like a fossil, but why is Mr. Bucky singing to a song about drugs?”

You motioned to Peter to shut the hell up, but it was too late. Bucky’s eyes went wide, and simply said, “what?”

Peter started to dig his own grave, “yeah! This is like, one of Y/n’s favorite songs! I don’t get why though since she doesn’t do ecstasy.”

As if on cue, Steve woke up and just heard “y/n” and “ecstasy” and his eyes shot open.

“You do ecstasy, Y/N?” Steve half yelled, half choked.

You turned to Peter, motioned slicing across his neck, and he seemed to have shut up almost instantly.

Bucky just stood there, trying to comprehend how a mellow song could have such outlandish connotations, and just whispered: “but you sing so innocently, how can that be possible.”

You started chuckling, “Buck, it literally says it in the name.”

“I thought it meant the other keeping tabs! Like checking up on someone!” Bucky argued.

“He’s literally saying he takes an ounce of shrooms, Bucky!”

You just heavily sighed as you placed your hands on your head, and started laughing almost bordering crying. Bless Bucky’s pure soul.

Bucky speaks up. “Well, can I keep a tab on you while taking you out tomorrow? My treat.”

“Smooth, Barnes,” you chirped, “But you’re still an idiot. But I love you for it. A date sounds wonderful.”

Peter and Steve looked back at each other and back to each other.

“Suddenly I think maybe these two are on drugs.” Steve comments.

“Uh, I think the word you’re looking for is love, Mr. Rogers sir,” Peter piped up, earning an eye roll.

。。

The Third Time

“Y/N?? Y/N??” Bucky kept repeating your name all over the compound. He knew you were out and about with the girls, but he swears he heard your laughter somewhere.

There had been an uptick of chaos and work, causing your peaceful moments of music to cease altogether. Bucky doesn’t like to admit it, but he truly does miss it. The silence has been driving him nuts.

And he knows that you’ve been extra stressed as well. He just wanted to have a nice day in and spend quality time with you. He even brought in a pot of jasmines to help destress your room. But for the life of him, he just couldn’t find you.

Just then, Bucky runs into Sam, who happens to be rubbing his temples. It looked like he was nursing a horrible headache.

“Sam! Whoa, you ain’t looking too good,” Bucky started, you all right?”

“Man, my ears are ringing,” Sam complained, “I don’t even know where it’s coming from! And what’s with the pot of flowers? Are they for your girlfriend.”

Bucky’s face flushed pink. Of course, no one knows you and Bucky are dating, but Sam knows better.

“What makes you say that?” Bucky said a little too cooly.

“You think I haven’t seen you running around the place, Tin Man,” Sam replied, “I haven’t seen you this frantic since the time you were accusing everyone of eating your leftovers.”

“The pizza was handmade, Sam!”

“Whatever. Did you check everywhere?” Sam inquired.

Bucky sighed, “I’ve looked everywhere I think she’d be, but no luck. I know she’s stressed but I haven’t seen her at the places she enjoys to destress!”

Bucky’s voice raised a little too loud for Sam’s liking, causing him to wince in pain.

Sam huffed, “look, I don’t think you’ve checked everywhere. Because I think Metallica has taken over the newly built studio, and god does my head hurt.”

Something clicked in Bucky’s head that made him run in the opposite direction, towards the music studio that Stark had built. Bucky hollered a goodbye, leaving Sam to raise an eyebrow.

“Be safe, man! And careful with your Jasmines!” Sam yelled, walking towards the kitchen, mumbling about the youth and their music.

Bucky reached the studio but didn’t hear a sound. Did Sam play a prank on him? Was it just a plot to reveal that you and Bucky are dating?

As he places the pot of flowers next to the door, suddenly, a red ‘on-air’ light flashes on, and as Bucky leans his ear against the door, he hears you go A one two three, GO!

Soundly the loud riff of a guitar opens up the song, and Bucky hears you literally scream out the opening lines:

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide

Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride

Till I get to the bottom and I see you again

He was taken aback by a cacophony of noise when the drums started booming he almost fell back as to how loud the music was even through a closed door. As he opened the door, he really didn’t know what to expect, but all that changed when he saw a familiar someone.

There you were, hair up in a high ponytail, wearing a teal crop top and black shorts, sweating and screaming your absolute lungs out while playing the lead guitar. On your right was Shuri, who was going ham on the bass guitar, and on your left was MJ strumming along to the electric guitar, and a very energetic Ned is playing the drums at the back.

Bucky had never seen such chaos, and to top it all off, he spotted Peter running around with an ashtray that is on fire and it’s over his head.

Turns out, you were playing Helter Skelter. Bucky had never seen you this passionate over a song, let alone seen you perform. He was in awe, kind of scared, and kind of turned on.

As the song came to an end, you asked “how’s that?” which caused Ned to fling his drumsticks across the studio and shout, “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!”

You applauded your friends and told them to take a break, to meet back in 20 minutes. The kids left, Ned simply saying “this was fucking awesome.”

The studio is now completely quiet, only you and Bucky staring at each other. You, heaving breathing and coughing, Bucky wide-eyed. It’s become a tradition.

You spoke first, “like what you heard?”

Bucky was rendered speechless. “I mean, it’s music.”

“You don’t sound too sure of it,” you chuckled, walking up to Bucky and giving him a peck on the cheek. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I wanted to take you on a small date to help you destress, I even brought you some Jasmines,” Bucky said softly, crouching on the floor to retrieve the small pot.

“Bucky... You didn’t have to.”

“But I want to because you keep blowing me away with the talent and amazing voice of yours,” Bucky compliment.

“I think of it more of anguished screaming, but that works too,” you gushed, fiddling with your guitar.

“Can... I join you in your destress screaming? Maybe after I’ll make sure you do a more desired type of screaming, eh?” Bucky suggested as he winked at you.

You smacked him on the arm, “you’re super gross, you know that? But, an offer is an offer.”

Bucky started to move in and kiss you, but at the last second, you started playing your guitar and screaming Helter Skelter again. Earning a ‘menacing glare’ from Bucky and uncontrollable laughter from you.

。。

The Fourth Time

By now, Bucky shouldn’t be surprised at the music library you have collected over the past year you’ve been dating. He has heard every song you’ve heard more than once, and can now be considered a reliable karaoke partner.

It’s Friday night, and you are ‘looking out’ for the ‘kids'. Shuri is hosting a huge house party in Wakanda, and since no one is going to be home, T’Challa had it bestowed upon you and the Avengers (with the exception of Banner and Stark) were to make sure the party was ‘safe’ and ‘sane.’ Whatever that meant.

And so now here you all were, ‘chaperoning’ the party. AKA, you, Nat, Wanda, and Shuri doing a shot-ski in the kitchen.

Vision did the honors of being the house DJ for the night, and it turns out that the microwave does have good taste in music.

The party was going strong, and everyone was having a good time. The party was 90’s theme, everyone was looking fresh out of Teen Vogue.

It was a miracle Bucky decided to ‘dress up’ for the occasion. Or rather, dress down. Bucky had on straight cuffed jeans (that you did), a white Greenday shirt, and a dark green windbreaker. Despite Bucky’s hair being on the slightly long side, he was able to execute the DiCaprio part perfectly (with some help from you).

To compliment Bucky’s outfit, you wore form-fitting denim shorts with a green striped tank. Picture Fran from the Nanny, but obviously 10 times cuter.

The party was in full swing, banger after banger was blasting. You tried your very hardest to drag Bucky to the dancefloor, but he kept his composure. You on the other, were tipsy and ripping it up on the dancefloor. Some say you battled a kid to a shuffle battle, but you can’t confirm nor deny it.

It was 1 in the morning and saw Bucky stifle a yawn. You simply asked, “Wanna call it a night?” and Bucky purposely started falling onto you, feigning a snore.

“C’mon sleepy-head, let’s head out,” you giggled. You approached Shuri and told her that you guys were going to retreat back.

“Aw no!” Shuri cried out, “Don’t be old, guys! Just one more song.”

“I think I’m tuckered out, Shuri,” you replied, “babysitting a fossil really tires you out.”

“I literally didn’t move all night, babe,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. The two of you said your goodbyes to Shuri and started out the door. Grabbing hold of your hand, you were about to exit, and as you and Bucky were about to open the door, you heard the beat drop:

Hennessy on my lips, take a little sip

Privacy on the door, I'ma make the shit grip

All logic flew out the window as you bolted to the dancefloor, leaving Bucky in the dust. You caught up to Shuri, screaming the lyrics in unison. It was none other than My Type, your go-to dancing song.

Bucky had the most confused look he’s seen in a while, and had every right to. He never saw this side of you, much less the side where you’re twerking upside down in the middle of the dancefloor.

To be fair, it’s a really raunchy song, and after the ‘shrooms’ incident, you’ve tried to keep your song choices decent. Key word tried.

You made your way to where Bucky was standing, still very much screaming the lyrics. When the song got to Eight-inch big, ooh, that's good pipe, you looked at Bucky like he was a full course meal. Bucky couldn’t stop laughing, face flushed absolutely pink from embarrassment.

You kept rapping the lyrics and you’re pretty sure you would’ve taken him then and there. You got up all over him, albeit trying your best to give your bedroom eyes, but failing miserably.

“Babe, I really think it’s time to head out,” Bucky chuckled, trying so hard to suppress any moods he was starting to feel.

“But I wanna dance on you foreverrr,” you cooed while leaning on Bucky for support, “I wanna siIing to youu.”

“We’ll do it later, babe, promise,” Bucky said in a low voice. He saw you pout and when you wouldn’t budge, he held you over his shoulder and made his way out.

Shuri couldn’t stop cackling, and as the door closed behind the party, you simply hollered, “that’s my type, bitch, that’s my type!”

。。

The Fifth Time

There were days you couldn’t sleep. Whether it be from all-nighters, stress, nightmares, or you drink a little too much coffee, sometimes your eyes wouldn’t close. It was customary for you to just stargaze in the living room window until sleep overcame you.

Sometimes Bucky would join you. You knew how bad his nightmares got, and you be there to ease him through it. Sometimes the two of you would deliberately stay up to stargaze.

Tonight might have been one of Bucky’s worst nightmares to date. You were in the kitchen, brewing tea. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky slowly making his way towards you. Eyes filled with sorrow, bags deeper than they’ve been in a while.

You turn to him and rub his back while he breathes heavily on your shoulder. You hand him a mug and stare at him with concern.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or stargaze?” you offered, wrapping your arms around his stomach as you listen to his heartbeat steady.

Bucky shook his head and softly said, “can you actually sing a melody for me?”

It’s been a while since you’ve sung, but nonetheless, you happily agreed. The two of you made your way to the couch and took out the mattress from there. Bucky laid his head on your lap and you draped a blanket between the two of you.

You slowly began to massage Bucky’s head, and almost instantly, he started to doze off. You asked FRIDAY to play a simple beat and you started singing softly:

Last night, boy, I met you, yeah

When I was asleep

You're such a dream to me

It was R.E.M., one of your favorite songs to sing and listen to when you wanted to fall asleep. Sure enough, Bucky started to yawn and his heartbeat was slowing down. His eyes were filled with love and peace, and he couldn’t stop smiling while hearing you sing.

You kept singing along while running your hands through his hair. Moments like these made Bucky eternally grateful for your compassion from him.

You then sang your favorite verse: "I love you—who starts a conversation like that?" Nobody but I do. You startled yourself as to how quiet you said that specific part, for fear of waking Bucky up.

Bucky turned to look at you and said I love you back. Tears had formed in both of your eyes. After two years of dating, the words were uttered and things started to fall into place.

Bucky kissed you tenderly on the lips, passion growing between you too. Foreheads were touching, and you finally finished the song by singing If you can believe, you're such a dream to me.

The two of you fell asleep into each other’s arms. Morning came, and you saw the sun come up, and Bucky holding on to you.

It really did feel like a dream, and you couldn’t be more in love with him.

。。

The One Time Bucky Sang to You

It was a warm September evening, and Bucky decided to take you out on a picnic. He argued the day was too beautiful to go to waste, so he just had to take you out.

And so the two of you went about 10 minutes down the road of the compound, where the lake was beaming brighter than ever. It seemed that someone had come beforehand to decorate the picnic area, as there was a decorated table with a floral centerpiece.

The sun was setting, so Bucky started lighting up a fire. His eyes were filled with indescribable joy.

He then pulled out a guitar that was hiding under the table and started to tune it. “I started taking guitar lessons about 2 months ago, and I wanted to surprise you!”

“Oh Buck,” you gushed, “you’re an absolute sweetheart!”

You snuggled up closer to him, and he started slowly strumming the guitar and singing:

Who knows how long I've loved you

You know I love you still

Will I wait a lonely lifetime

If you want me to, I will

You recognized the song as I Will, the first song you’ve ever taught yourself to sing and play. It was a simple love song, and here was Bucky singing it with so much pride.

You decided to harmonize with him, and seeing his eyes light up made you fill with love. Bucky ended the song and leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you remember the first time I told ya that I love ya?” Bucky spoke up as he leaned his head onto yours.

You intertwined hands. “It was when I sang R.E.M. for the first time, wasn’t it?”

Bucky nodded in agreement, “About 2 years ago, and when I tell you I felt that I really did. It made me realize that you have loved me unconditionally. Even when we first met, you had so much compassion for me, and I really can’t thank you enough. Not to mention that your voice has come down from heaven itself”

Your heart was swelling and you started to tear up, “and I can’t thank you enough either, Buck. You are my eternal sunshine, and you know how much I love to sing to you.”

“Your singing was like the light at the end of the tunnel, as cheesy as it sounds,” Bucky laughed, “everyone says you were my siren, but I shook it off. But, I truly believe it.”

“Which is why, Y/N Y/L/N,” Bucky started, as he pulled out a navy velvet box from his pocket, “would you do me the honor of being my siren until the end of time? Will you marry me?”

You started to cry and yelled an inaudible YES! as you embraced Bucky into a hug. Tears of joy streamed down both of each other’s faces, and you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Do you wanna sing Helter Skelter in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky offered as he picked up the guitar.

“For my love,” you started, “I’d sing any day for you.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky one shot #bucky #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #bucky requests #writings #the winter soldier #winter soldier #Sebastian Stan

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

Text

over my skin (where you left your own mark), part 2 | audrey tindall & dara ann lynch

words: 3,297

summary: series of drabbles about how Audrey got to know, one day at a time, little by little, one of the two women she wished to meet in every one of her lives. Part 2: when Audrey first kissed Dara; and also dwell a bit in how she felt about being around the other woman.

n/a: I’m proud of this one, I think my point came across well and also let me show more about Dara in a different light. I want to give more info about her through the drabbles so, yay for that! I hope y’all enjoy it!

For Dara, it was weird to sleep somewhere else that wasn’t their bed.

Of course there were some exceptions, like at her parents’ or at Dahlia’s, but in general she felt restless when she wasn’t sleeping somewhere known. Hearing Billie’s deep breaths at an arm of distance, she wondered how did she managed to sleep at all. Both had different sleep habits, that was for clear since the day they went a step further, and after all those years it still amazed Dara how Billie was capable to hang to the second in which she was at peace to go full heavy asleep.

But for her...well, it was difficult to do that. Even harder taking in count she had Audrey’s back pressed against hers.

They had spent their rare free afternoon the three of them together at Audrey's, watching some films they wanted to from a long time ago and then having late dinner. That had led to them finding their way to Audrey’s bed and eventually...well, eventually to being the three of them squeezed in said bed after having sex.

It wasn't bad per se more like surprising, because Billie was used to plan most of the time and that felt a bit wild for her. Dara wasn't one to complain, even less when all they did managed to tire her lover out to finally let her have a night of rest. Billie had been running on a few sleepless night as of lately plus some others where she barely got a few hours of restless sleep, so hearing her sleep so soundly calmed part of her worriness.

Audrey mumbled something in her sleep, moving towards Billie to cuddle there better, and Dara took advantage to move too and take her phone from the nightstand. It was barely five in the morning and the few messages she still had to read were some long ones from her mom, one from her boss at the shop she was working in and a meme from Dahlia...sent not long ago. Sighing as deep as she could, Dara decided to just let the bed for the other two and go to the living room in silence. She knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep, so it was better to let both Audrey and Billie rest.

She picked up Billie’s sweatpants from the bedroom floor, mostly because those were the nearest thing she saw with her broken phone’s light, putting them on before going down. Dara had fallen asleep with only her shirt and her panties, so at least she wanted to be dressed if she was going to wonder around the place.

There was one thing that Dara kinda hated from Audrey’s attic: stairs. The whole place was not only the last floor in the building but had some kind of double height, and her leg didn’t take that kindly. But she knew it was a selfish to make Audrey always come over, so she zipped her mouth about that. When she finally made it, slow without her cane to support herself, a new question arose in her mind.

What was she gonna do until the other two woke up?

Dara chuckled lightly at that, looking around the dark living room before finding the switch to turn at least the kitchen light - since it was an open room. That was another thing that made her feel weird about spending the night somewhere else. Maybe it was how she was raised, but touching things in someone’s else home was something her mother always taught her not to do without permission. Even as an adult, living out of the nest for almost sixteen years already, it stuck with her.

Oh, she for sure could survive three or four hours watching videos on her phone, but she wasn’t that sure if she was going to survive without something in her belly.

What could she do?

Audrey woke up feeling like something was missing. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes, she rolled to her left just to find that there was room enough for her to do so, since the third body in bed wasn’t there to occupy the space. She looked at how Billie was sleeping at her right, her arm under the pillow and almost curled up, and didn’t have the heart to do anything else but brush the lock of hair that was crossing her calm face.

Doing that reminded her that she was actually naked save for her panties and a wave of embarrassment made her decide to get up and retrieve her sweatpants and shirt from the floor. But, using the faint first lights of the day, she couldn't find the lower part anywhere so Audrey just decided to take only her shirt, which was long enough to cover her mid thigh.

Where was Dara? That was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw how Billie rolled in her sleep, taking all the space possible in bed. Pulling back her hair with both hands, she tried to peek at the ensuite bathroom from where she was standing, finding it empty. Maybe she was in the kitchen? A faint sound of a drawer being opened confirmed it and Audrey decided to go find the woman.

Since the tattoo day, Audrey felt a bit more closer to Dara, making her be more open even to little details that before could have slipped about the younger woman. They even messaged a bit more often! That was truly an advance, heck that it was, but she still felt like she had a long way to go. At least she felt less shy around Dara, which was good for a change. But when she finally arrived to the open living room, the view that welcomed her was something else, making Audrey felt her face heat up in a sudden burst of embarrassment.

Dara was standing next to the counter, trying to read some package while she drummed with her fingers the metal of Audrey's teapot. Her back was facing Audrey, so she couldn't see her, but Audrey could perfectly see how her sweatpants hugged Dara's legs and ass nicely tight...until you looked down and saw how they weren't long enough to cover her full height.

At least now she knew where her clothes were.

"Need any help, darling?" Audrey said softly, not wanting to startle Dara by suddenly showing up.

"Uhm...yeah, I don't know how your stove works," there wasn't surprise in her tone, Audrey wondering how Dara could never be startled, and she gave her a lopsided grin that made her tender dimples to show up. "I was about to just put it all in the microwave and pray for it to come out right," she chuckled lightly, using her free hand to rub the back of her neck. "And then cover my mess and crime against tea brewing before you two woke up."

Audrey couldn't help but giggle, still a bit asleep, before walking towards Dara. She wasn't welcomed with a big kiss like Billie always did, but she got a soft smile and a little squeeze to her hand when she took the tea package from Dara's hand. That was enough for Audrey, feeling a bit more calm just with that gesture while she started to make some tea for both.

"You could have sleep more, you know? It's not even six in the morning," Audrey looked at Dara, who followed her hobbling a bit, with a bit of concern. "Yesterday you looked really tired sweetheart."

"I couldn't, but don't worry much about it," Dara stretched there like a lazy cat, popping her back with a soft sound that made her moan even more softly just with how good that felt - making Audrey blush in the process. "I always had a hard time with sleepovers, so after a nap in my bed I'll be good as new." She said while paying attention at everything Audrey was doing. "Sorry if I woke you up, I didn't want to be a bother."

"Oh shush, you didn’t and you totally aren’t,” she was quick to reassure her, almost too quick, because Audrey didn’t like to hear that coming from the other woman. The only thing Dara kept doing was to make things easier for her. “Are you hungry?”

And there, Audrey didn’t need Dara to say something, because it was written all over her features. It felt warm in her chest seeing how Dara blushed ever so faintly and fidgeted a bit before nodding, as if she was shy of replying and it reminded Audrey of how Dahlia always got all up to not be a bother for anyone. At least Dara’s way of doing that wasn’t as harsh as her cousin’s.

“Okay, I have...well, I don’t have many things but I have cookies,” Audrey fished the box from one of the cupboards, but there wasn’t something else they could use to do breakfast. She went then to the fridge and, totally, she was out of stock. “And butter, and a pepper, and also...too many yogurt, God, I do have to go get groceri-”

“Butter?” there wasn’t judgement in Dara’s voice, it was indeed a pretty curious tone, and Audrey looked at her blinking a bit fast. “Gimme that, I’ll make you the tastiest thing you ever tried.”

For a second Audrey didn’t think Dara was serious, but after she gave her the butter and a knife, well everything turned a bit homie even.

Peeking a bit from time to time to see how Dara was spreading butter over the cookies, which gladly were the plain ones, Audrey tried to brew tea only for both since she knew Billie was the coffee drinker per excellence. When she had the teacups ready, Dara handed her one of the threats she prepared with a cute smile on. It was so different to when Billie offered her food, but she took it gladly after giving Dara her tea. Side by side in the counter, they sipped in silence, just enjoying there for a couple minutes until Audrey looked at the...cookie-butter mini sandwich with a bit of concern.

“Honey, this looks like not a good idea.”

“Listen, I survived for a couple of months on these and they are fucking delicious,” Dara took a big bite to hers, big enough to almost eat it in one go and then munched on it. For Audrey she looked younger doing something that simple, making her laugh and bump her shoulder with her arm. Still full mouth, she talked. “There they go, see? It’s not poisonous.”

“Okay, okay, let’s give it a try,” Audrey was still a bit unsure about it, but she did eat strangest things at home in London, so what could happen? She bit it lightly and Dara raised an eyebrow, chewing on the rest of her cookie, waiting for the response. “...okay...it wouldn’t be something I would on my own volition, but! It is...tasty. Buttery. It makes my teeth feel funny when chewing on it...how on the actual Hell did you survived on these for two months?”

Dara had to use her forearm to muffle the big laugh that Audrey drew out of her, taking afterwards a big gulp from her teacup and making the other woman to chuckle while getting closer to her, pressing her forehead against Dara’s shoulder. That made Dara circle Audrey’s waist with her free arm, cuddling her to her side, and Audrey let herself be pressed against her body in a way that let her be tucked under Dara’s chin. And it’s easy to do that thanks to the height difference, which made it all the best.

“That’s why you didn’t try it with honey, sweet baby Jesus, that makes your teeth rattle like no tomorrow,” Dara caressed Audrey’s hip with her thumb, drawing slow circles there and making her hum in response. Audrey fed her the rest of her cookie sandwich, getting it almost whole in her mouth. When she managed to chew and swallow, Dara only chuckled again. “In desperate times you sometimes have to try the smartest solutions...even when some of them makes you live half a day in a sugar rush or tachycardia.”

“That’s why you don’t drink coffee?” Audrey asked in a whisper, because she had noticed how much Dara despised the hot drink. She didn’t say it out loud but the way she looked at the whole thing gave it to her.

Dara looked a bit down to Audrey, taking in count they were so close, and moved her hand to wrap her better in that one-arm hug she was giving to her, placing her palm in her tummy. She had told Billie why she didn’t drink coffee, expressly since it was a huge part of her lover’s life, but to have someone guess that through her words...well, that was new.

“That’s why I don’t drink coffee,” she nodded a bit and Audrey took advantage of that to move her head slightly and press her forehead a bit against Dara’s cheek, making her leave a kiss there in response. “That’s why I don’t do a lot of things, indeed...”

Audrey managed to look at Dara in the eyes then, seeing how her features were softer and more relaxed but there was something dark showing up in her eyes. Tired even and Audrey saw how her fingers twitched in the grip she had in her teacup, a gesture of someone that’s been smoking for too long and did it unconsciously. She had noticed that she was also letting her hair grow from the eternal short cut under her ears she always sported, something that was rare enough to worry Audrey, making her soft waves turn more into curls that were about to reach her shoulders in a couple months.

Her eyes went then from Dara’s eyes to her lips, her lower lip a bit wet from the last sip she took, and she wondered if Billie always felt like that. Like she wanted to give in and never let go.

So she finally did.

The panic of doing such thing hit Audrey right the second her lips weren’t pressed against Dara’s and the other woman knew it. It was all over Audrey’s face and the guilty glint in her eyes was screaming in volumes, but Dara didn’t let go of her grip on her.

They never had shared a kiss, that was something that fell in Billie’s charge to give both that, and Audrey never felt that she had any right to even touch Dara’s face. If they kissed it was only their bodies and for the younger woman that meant from the base of her neck downwards. And now she broke the silent contract they had with each other, just for something as childish as curiosity, maybe? Or whatever it was.

“Drey,” Dara’s voice was ever so calm and it ran through Audrey like a healing balm for her about to skyrocket anxiety. She heard the soft clink of the porcelain in the counter and then Dara’s free hand was in her cheek, running her thumb over smooth warm skin. “Don’t panic, it’s okay.”

“But w-we… I-I...I-I’m sor-”

Audrey never got to apologize, because she got another kiss that shut her up. A new kiss that wasn’t shy at all, that tasted sweet and was almost velvety even; that made Audrey feel that she deserved it yet didn’t own it; that made her realize that Billie had at home the gentlest lover ever...but also the most ready-to-please lover in existence, pressing first Audrey against the counter and then lifting her up to make her sit there, the kissing game going strong for a few more seconds before Dara opened teasingly all the buttons in Audrey’s shirt and working her up terribly fast.

Billie didn’t know how she managed to make it alive to the living room, too sleepy to function, but what made her raise from bed was the smell of coffee, so she kinda knew she would make it there safely.

Fully dressed with her clothes from yesterday, taking in count she took her time to do that before falling asleep, it made her chuckle to see Dara sleeping soundly in the couch, clad in Audrey’s sweatpants - which only made Billie to run her hand over the curve of her ass in a loving way along a little pat, like she was used to do, and getting a little sleepy comfortable hum in response.

“You’re terrible, let her sleep,” Audrey said, drawing Billie’s attention but not getting it fully until she left a kiss in Dara’s crown of the head. “I made you coffee, come get it before it gets too cold.”

“Aye captain,” Billie joked and then noticed how her best friend had clean clothes on and her hair was wet. “Were you two up for too long?”

“Six in the morning, more or so,” Billie grunted at that, catching a glimpse from the current hour - eight twenty, eight twenty-one - in the microwave. “We already had breakfast and all, never thought I would try the average college student breakfast after like twenty years.”

Billie was confused for a second, taking the cup of coffee from Audrey’s hands and then watching how she was putting away the teapot, a box of cookies and the butter. But then she noticed how relaxed Audrey seemed, how there was a massive hickey peeking from the collar of her light dress that she totally didn’t left and also Audrey’s underwear peeking from behind coffee machine.

She almost choked on her coffee just because of the fit of laughter she was trying to hide.

“And was it good? Dara does that from time to time, when she isn’t in the mood of cooking,” oh, Billie lived for the double meaning of everything, taking in count that Dara had made for her the butter cookie sandwiches several times along the years...but also ate her out for breakfast just for the sake of it. Audrey got all pink suddenly and Billie turned around with a smug grin on, watching how Dara moved in her sleep in the couch.

“It was...interesting, that for sure,” it was accompanied by a soft chuckle and Billie closed her eyes, feeling the light warm in her chest growing with each passing second, feeling content of being there with her people. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Well, since I have a couple of days of rest, I was thinking about taking Dara on a date tonight,” that was something she had in her mind from the moment she knew she would have a rest from filming. “She has to work today, so it will give me time to plan it.”

“Mhm, I see,” Audrey got closer to Billie, who welcomed her in her arms like she did that everyday, and gave her a peck. “Why don’t you try that italian we went once? I’m sure she would love it...it had a nice terrace and all, open air, I think she needs something like that.”

Humming in response, Billie and Audrey let themselves be in the kitchen, not raising much their voices to not bother the sleeping woman in the couch. It was a bit weird that Audrey saw that too, that Dara needed something to take her mind off from whatever she was thinking so hard those days, but she took it gladly because that meant more help to make her girl feel good and content.

And all that peace lasted until Dara’s alarm went off and the three of them started to move in order to make her arrive on time to work.

#audrey tindall & original character #dara ann lynch #audrey tindall #original character #billie dean howard #audrey tindall x billie dean howard x original character #ahs roanoke #ahs murder house #american horror story

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osmw1 · 5 years

Text

Dimension Wave Chapter 30 — A Springboard unto Death

“I bite my thumb at thee, Miss Kizuna!” Yamikage shouted out from the deck.

We’re back at sea, as we usually are. The only thing different was that water surrounded us in every direction. There was no land at all to be seen.

“Oh, picking a fight, huh?” “I can take no more squid!” “I understand, but Sheryl, you too must give due respect to our bounty.” “… I’m not wasting food. Just repurposing it.”

The first glance of yet squid again had Yamikage shrieking, while Shouko chastises Sheryl for loading our lunch into the ballista. But there were two others.

“Ahaha, you guys are hilarious!” “Ugh… why did I sign up for this…?”

Tsugumi had a good laugh, but Alto was far less impressed. How did the six of us sailors end up like this? you may ask. Well, let’s go back to about a week ago, to the day after we beat Dimension Wave.

We decided we needed a day off. Actually, it’d probably be more accurate to say that we needed a day to walk to the Second City to research the newly implemented items. By chance, we bumped into Romina and with the warm support from everyone, I had her make me a new weapon out of the parts I got from gutting Cerberus. Romina eyed me with suspicion when I handed the items to her, but she said nothing of it and forged me some proper equipment. I mean, it was only natural that I stood out just a little when I’m the only one with a huge inventory of Cerberus’ parts.

In any case, what she came up with was the Cerberus Slaughterer—an unadorned blade that like nothing but an oddly matte black kitchen knife. A weapon forged from the mats of a boss monster that powerful, it should be accordingly lethal. Well, should… … but I wouldn’t know. I didn’t even have the Energy to equip it. So, away it went into my inventory, biding time until I can wield its potential.

Then, we went shopping to check out the updated weapon types, Stones of Mediations, and other new stuff in the game. Along with a newly purchased reel, I had a beaming smile plastered on my face as Shouko, Yamikage, Sheryl, and I made our way to the Second City. Then, I saw it.

—The lure.

It was glimmering—no, rather, it was glowing. We came across a merchant selling a lure that would glow in the dark. Or better yet, a lure for night fishing. 10,000 serin was its price. As soon as I showed any intent on purchasing it, Shouko immediately tried to stop me. You absolutely cannot buy this, Kizuna. Do not be swindled, she pleaded, but alas, it was to no avail—my wallet would soon be 10,000 serin lighter.

“You are being completely cheated by the merchant! Please, just listen to us!”

I had no regrets. I still have no regrets because, though it unbeknownst to any of us at the time, I definitely did not make a bad decision. At the end of the day, I went to bed and slept soundly, pleased with a peaceful and successful shopping trip.

The next day. After deciding that I should regain my lost Energy, we set off back to our floating home base of a sailing ship. Things were still fine at this point.

“We may not risk thee taking damage, Miss Kizuna. Thou art best to rest in the cabin.”

Maybe I was still tired from all the shopping I did the previous day, I left the deck to the rest of them and went to a nap as suggested. There are two bedrooms in the cabin. But for some reason, I felt a little embarrassed to be the only one sleeping and so, I locked the door before the Sandman visited me.

“Gah! Help!”

A few hours later, I was awoken by the racket outside. I stepped up and out to the deck and immediately understood the situation.

… my fellow party members were engaged in some sort of act of piracy.

To sum up the bizarre turn of events unfolding in front of my very eyes, my sister, Tsugumi†Exceed, was about to be thrown overboard. In the water waiting for their meal were three Blue Sharks. Honestly, it seemed like a slapstick routine more than anything.

“What the hell are you guys doing?!”

I snapped to my senses and shouted at them. Shouko was the first to respond.

“Executing a stowaway!”

All of my attention was on them. Something must’ve happened while I was asleep, but frankly, I really didn’t want to know. I just didn’t have much of a choice but to talk things over with them.

“Come on! Tsumugi’s my sister! What the hell happened?” “Judgement upon stowaways on our vessel!” “You stay quiet!” “… stowaways are shark food.” “I don’t have a clue what you mean.” “Seajacking shall bring demise unto us!” “I told you to stay quiet, Dark Shadow!”

Our arguing brought me nowhere closer to understanding what was going on, but at least I saved Tsugumi for now. I had to coax them out of their frenzy before I could get a good grasp of the situation. Apparently, while I was sleeping, a group of four that were stowed away in the bilge tried to hijack our ship. Our party members engaged the hijackers at the bow and easily rounded them up, as the hijackers didn’t have any naval combat–related skills. —And then.

“Are you for real?!”

That still didn’t explain anything. Then, they told me they were discussing what to do with the hijackers when one of them called out to Shouko.

“Remember how we were allies?”

He tried to fish for sympathy. It seemed like they were the people Shouko used to run with before coming to us. After seeing how well we did in the Dimension Wave, there were snide remarks about how “the likes of us Spirits” must have played dirty. It made Shouko’s blood boil, and so now, the hijackers were being dangled above the water.

“I’ll make sure to spread rumors.”

His last words were befitting of a heroin in a dating sim game. With one down, it leaves three.

“Goodbye to you two, too.” “We’ll kill you in the next Dimension Wave.” “Wh—aaagh!”

They sure can talk a lot of trash. It was a slog to get through what Shouko and the others had to say too, but I had little choice but to listen. Anyway, it turns out that the hijackers found Tsugumi hiding in a barrel, hoping to pop out and startle me.

“What a bunch of tools!” “Yes, they were quite the characters.” “Don’t pretend like you didn’t go crazy either, Shouko.” “Sorry…”

I never woulda thought that she would flipped out like this. Tsugumi then began to explain why she was here.

“I snuck here because you and your party seemed to be having so much fun, big bro…” “What, did you have enough of your permadeath run?” “I muttered that under my breath! You weren’t supposed to hear that!”

Unfortunately for you, I’m not hard of hearing It’d be weirder if I couldn’t hear you since I’m standing right next to you. And it’s not like I have super good hearing either. … not that I know of, at least.

“What’s a permadeath run anyway?” “… it’s a roleplaying thing in VRMMOs.” “Hmm, don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

According to Sheryl, it’s common in virtual worlds where you can’t voluntarily logout, making it kind of like a “if you die in the game, you die in real life” kind of roleplay. The rest of the party would kick you and cut off communication if you die, I assume.

“Wait, I didn’t know they were doing that!”

Well, I’m not about to criticize anyone how they play the game, but I can’t say I’m enamored with the idea. Maybe the frontliners are more dedicated to their role because they play on permadeath rules. Who knows.

“If everybody’s okay with it, maybe we can let Tsugumi into our party.” “But of course.” “We are indebted to your sister for bequeathing us her aid during the Dimension Wave.” “‘kay.” “But I mean, y’all just tried to feed her to the sharks…”

None of them could look me in the eyes. Did you think I’d forget about this? Tsugumi joined our party without an apology from any of them.

True to their words, the hijackers had been spreading false rumors about us back in the cities. Alto caught wind of it, explained the truth, and seemed to have turned the tables back on them. Glad that someone’s got our back.

And those were the events that led to Alto joining us.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /next/

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flamingbluepanda · 6 years

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Lmao could I interest you in the ASMR prompt for Spirk? Idk how it would work out but I’m just dying to find out

(Anything for you babe!)

Jim has nightmares.

Spock knew this, intellectually. He’s known this for years. From his first day on the ship, he’s been able to hear Jim through the walls. From the the Khan incident onwards, he crossed the bathroom to wake Jim up every time one happened.

But it’s only once Spock started sharing a bed with him that he realized how… wide they were.

Jim was able to share a bed with someone, easily. But in the midst of a nightmare, he got physical. He flung his arms and legs out and screamed and babbled both nonsense and curses and sobbed and kicked bit scratched punched-

The breaking point happens when Spock- too tired from a 56 hour state of emergency after a lab accident and 4 nights straight of Jim’s night terrors being worse than usual (prompted by a letter from his mother)- doesn’t move out of the way of one of Jim’s arms quick enough.

Jim, probably thinking he’s Nero or something, grabs him by the throat and starts punching him. By the time Spock gets him awake and help arrives, one of his eyes is swelling shut, and his nose is broken in three places.

Jim is horrified with himself. It is mutually agreed upon that something has to give.

Attempt one- Sleeping pills.

Jim’s tried them in the past, claimed they worked once they got the right ingredients that he wasn’t allergic too. And for a few nights they do work, Spock sleeps soundly.

And then, a red alert happens in the middle of the night. Spock spends five valuable minutes waking Jim up, and he’s still not lucid enough for the command training to kick in.

That time was a false alarm, but Spock, for the safety of the ship, insists that Jim stops the treatment. Jim agrees begrudgingly, asks Spock if he wants to move out.

Spock doesn’t- it’s too late for that. He can’t sleep without Jim.

Attempt two- Hypnosis

Jim’s sessions with a hypnodoctor are… unorthodox. And while the nightmares don’t stop, they do get less violent. Spock appreciates this, truly.

The hypnosis employs the use of a series of touches, which Jim does every night.

The problem is, he becomes complacent, starts forgetting to do them. And then, they stop being affective.

Spock sighs as Jim wakes him, again, and this time manages to get out of bed before he can be grabbed. He mentally notes to find something else before going to soothe the love of his life.

Attempt three- Music

This one is Jim’s idea. He reads that playing music at night can help with nightmares.

Spock, as a scientist, is offended that his boyfriend would take an article at face value like that, because it doesn’t work no matter what type of music they play. All this attempt leads to is Jim fervently apologizing and Spock writing a strongly worded letter to the author editor and publisher.

At least they can laugh about this one later.

Attempt four- Muscle inhibitors

Another one of Jim’s ideas, this time backed up with science and Doctor McCoy.

Spock is more hesitant to hit the button which will make Jim’s muscles lock in place via small robots injected into the muscle fibers.

“It’s just for now sweetheart,” Jim whispers between kisses that are far too convincing, “Just until we can find a way for me to stop beating you up. I hate the fact that I keep hurting you.”

Spock agrees, begrudgingly. But Jim’s first night paralyzed, and he has the nightmare of the year. Spock wakes up to Jim begging an invisible enemy to stop, let him go, please don’t-

Spock is sickened by the fact that he did that, and refuses to do it again and for so far as to hide the materials. Jim and he get into quite the argument over it.

It ends with he and Jim both going to bed angry, and him getting pummeled in the midst of a nightmare.

“You should leave,” Jim begs him between sobs as Doctor M’Benga treats his wounds, “this isn’t healthy. Please leave me, I’m so sorry-“

Spock takes his hands, and says never.

Jim proposes then and there, in sickbay at approximately 3:30 in the morning. Spock’s only stipulation is that they have a Vulcan bonding as well.

M’Benga sighs and says “congrats but can you both get out of sickbay, Len’s gonna have my head if I have to wake him.”

Attempt five- meditation

Jim is a horrible meditation student and far too turned on by his fiancée in his meditation robes. The attempt fails miserably but reaps some beneficial results in the form of sexual favors.

Attempt six- physical activity

Spock proposes this plan after noticing that Jim sleeps better after strenuous away missions. And going to the gym every night works for a bit, even gets them both down a few pounds.

But then, Jim breaks his leg on a mission, and they are forbidden from the gym for at least three months. When they go back, it’s lost all affect.

Attempt seven- ASMR

This attempt is honestly desperation on Spock’a part- the tarsus anniversary is coming up, along with Jim’s birthday and Christmas and it’s the worst time of year for his nightmares.

The earbuds work, but continuously fall out when Jim moves in his sleep. Spock, for a Christmas/birthday present, finds Jim a pair of over the ear headphones. Jim adores them and uses them for music, reports, and his nightly ASMR tape.

And it works, gloriously, it works. Spock considers giving offering to whatever deity clearly intervened.

Except.

Every night, just as Spock is falling asleep, without fail, Jim manages to roll over and smack the hard plastic of the headphones into either his cheek or his shoulder. It always hurts, but honestly Spock is willing to take it. It’s better than before. He says nothing, and the months leading up to their wedding are glorious.

But then, a gorn rips his arm out of it’s socket. The dislocation destroys his rotator cuff and snaps his collar bone, he has four and a half reparative surgeries over the span of a week to fix it all.

The first night he’s allowed to sleep in his own bed, Jim is so careful all night, tending to his every need, kissing every inch of bruised and scarred skin. Spock lays on his back and Jim puts on his tape.

Like clockwork, Jim rolls over.

The plastic cup connects right with the snap in his collarbone, and Spock can feel the stitches tear as he screams in pain.

He has his fifth surgery- an emergency one for where a bone fragment pierced his vein.

When he returns to his quarters, Jim has completely moved out.

Attempt Eight- sleeping apart

Spock finds that his bed is now too cold, no matter how many blankets he uses or how high he turns up the heat. Jim has insisted it’s not forever, but he refuses to hurt spock anymore. Not when Spock’s the one person he never wants to hurt.

But the walls are thin, and Spock’s hearing is advanced, and he can hear the other half of his soul shrieking in pain every night.

The final straw is placed on his back four nights in, when Jim screams his name.

Consequences be dammed, he’ll let Jim kill him before he ignores Jim begging for his help.

He runs across the bathroom, jumps on the bed and without thinking his hand slides onto Jim’s face, melding with him.

For a moment Spock is horrified- non-consensual melding is a crime, after all- but then, he realizes Jim is relaxed. What’s more, Jim is still asleep. His mental presence recognizes Spock’s and is no longer scared, although he is approaching wakefulness.

As he slips out and Jim wakes up, Spock realizes the answer to all his problems.

And he, victoriously, in a moment of pure humanity, decides he has earned every single one of his degrees. He’d been starting to doubt it, after all.

If he couldn’t crack human dreams, what was the point of any of them?

Attempt infinity- Bonding

Spock lays in bed on day thirteen of their honeymoon, sated and warmed by the setting risan sun flowing in through the window of the small cabin they had.

Jim wanders out of the bathroom and crawls into bed with him, yawning and warm. Spock kisses his forehead and shifts closer to him. Jim mumbles something about dinner later, nap now. He’s asleep in minutes.

The warm presence of the bond in Jim’s mind satisfies his fears, reminding him that he’s never alone. Jim- and by extension, Spock- sleep soundly, physically and mentally tangled together until undistinguishable from one another.

(HOLY HELL THIS GOT LONG AS F U C K. W O W Z A. @herrhasen (who’s also the fabulous @deheerkonijn Incase y’all didn’t know) I hope you enjoyed this! I had a blast writing it)

#ali writes shit #long post #spirk #spock #Star Trek #james kirk

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aceofstars16 · 5 years

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Books Are the Best Medicine

After seeing this picture by @siriuslymeg I started coming up with a headcanon about how Ford can’t sleep well when he’s sick, and the only way for him to actually sleep is a strong sleeping pill or having a certain brother read to him.

This is pretty much just...a lot of brotherly fluff because I’m a sucker for it...hope y’all like it! (I also took the how to pronounce dodecahedron from the picture because I had no clue how to start the fic and that worked really well...xD)

Fic below the cut:

“Doe-deck-a-hee-dron? Sixer, what is this book even?” Stan squinted at the word, trying to figure out what the heck it was supposed to be. So far, he hadn’t been able to understand any of this book. But Ford was sick and Stan knew how sucky it was to feel like crap so he was trying to read it to cheer his brother up. Though how this book could make anyone happy was a mystery.

A hoarse laugh sounded beside Stan’s ear, and he glanced at his brother who had shuffled closer to get a better look at the book, but his eyes were squinting and Stan wasn’t sure he could even see what was on the page without his glasses. But then again Stan didn’t wear glasses so he really didn’t know what it was like for Ford, all he knew was every time he tried his brother’s glasses on, everything looked super fuzzy.

“It’s a book about science,” Ford said in a scratchy voice, turning the book so Stan could see the cover. “Carl Sagan wrote it to help just about anyone understand science.”

“Well he’s doing a poor job of it,” Stan muttered as he opened the book again, looking for the last word he had read.

Ford chuckled again, but then the laughed turned into a cough and Stan quickly placed the book between him and his brother. “Hey don’t cough on me! I don’t want to get sick!”

“Sorry.” It was a quiet whisper, though Stan wasn’t sure if it was because of guilt or a sore throat.

“Eh, it’s okay, just don’t do it again.” Turning his attention back to the book, Stan started reading – or trying to read. Every few words, Ford usually had to help him pronounce a word, which resulted in him resting his head right next to Stan’s, a blanket pulled up to his ears.

“And…okay what is this word?” Stan asked, pulling the book closer to try and figure out how to even attempt pronouncing it. When there was no answer, Stan tilted his head and saw that Ford’s eyes were closed and his breathing was quiet – or as quiet as it could be with a stuffy nose.

“Great…” Stan muttered to himself. Ford was pretty much sleeping on him, so getting up wasn’t really much of an option, but despite that, he was glad his brother seemed to be sleeping so well. Last night Ford had been coughing so much neither of them had gotten much rest.

Looked at the book, Stan stuck his tongue out at it before tossing it to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his comics. It wasn’t a new one, but it beat the sciencey book. Reaching over, Stan stretched his arm as far as it could go while trying not to move Ford. His fingers barely reached the comic, but he managed to pull it a little closer so he could pick it up.

Taking another glance at his brother, Stan sighed, but as he opened up his comic, he felt a smile growing on his face. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, just as long as he didn’t get sick too.

Another loud cough shook the bed and Stan pulled the pillow off of his head. There was no way he was going to fall asleep if this kept up. He hadn’t heard Ford this bad since they were kids. Whatever he had caught, it was bad.

“Come on…” Ford’s voice sounded from above him and despite how quiet the words were, Stan could still hear the anguish in his brother’s voice. That was it. They were both miserable and Stan couldn’t take it.

Unwrapping his legs from the blankets and sheets, Stan flicked on the lamp next to their bunkbed and grabbed the first book he saw before snatching his pillow and blanket and tossing them up onto Ford’s bed.

“Stan, what are-“ Ford’s question was cut off by another bought of coughing.

“Just a sec.” Stan dug through the discarded tissues that had fallen from Ford’s bed until he found the small bottle. Then he climbed up the ladder, bottle and book in hand.

“Here,” he said, pouring out some of the liquid into the cup.

“I already took some Stan…”

“Yeah, well you didn’t take enough.” Holding out the cup towards him, Stan saw how bedraggled his brother looked. Yeah, this wasn’t acceptable.

Ford looked at the cup for a moment, then sighed and accepted it, gulping down the liquid, only to stick his tongue out at the taste.

A laugh escaped from Stan as he took the cup and put it back on the bottle before tossing it onto the bedside stand. “Tastes terrible right? Now scoot.”

A confused look grew on Ford’s face, but he did as Stan asked, pressing himself up against the wall as Stan flopped down on his back and grabbed the book. He opened it and was about to start reading, but he could feel Ford’s gaze resting on him and he quickly looked over to see utter confusion etched on his brother’s face.

“What? We used to do this all the time when we were kids,” Stan asked, surprised at how defensive he felt. It was kind of silly, they were teenagers after all. They shouldn’t need to read to each other to sleep.

“I just…” Ford trailed off, looking at the book for a moment, then a small smile grew on his face and he lied down, pulling his covers up to his ears. “I’m listening.”

Stan felt a smirk growing on his face, but didn’t respond, he just started reading. It was a nerd book, of course it was, but he had to admit some of it was a little interesting.

“Huh…what do you know, I actually understand what they are saying here.” He looked over at Ford, a smile on his face, but Ford wasn’t listening. His chest was rising and falling and his eyes were closed, he looked happy, peaceful. Stan’s smile grew.

“Always works,” he said quietly, closing the book and tucking it next to him, knowing Ford wouldn’t approve of him throwing it off of the bed. Plus, it might hit something and he didn’t want to risk anything waking up Ford.

Pulling his own blanket up to his chin, Stan could feel Ford’s head pressing into his chest and he smiled as he let his own head rest against his brother’s. “Night bro bro.”

A yawn escaped Stan’s mouth as he settled down with a cup of coffee. Man was he glad this ship had autopilot, or whatever McGucket called it. It made things so much easier, especially since Ford had taken an unscheduled dip in the ocean and gotten a nasty cold.

Stan closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle rock of the ocean. That is, he was enjoying it until he heard a bout of coughing and indecipherable words coming from the bedroom, or cabin, or whatever it was called.

Sighing, Stan put down his coffee – making sure it wouldn’t slide off the table from the rocking – before heading into the room only to stop in the doorway and frown at what he saw. Ford was leaning over his desk, scribbling something in one of his new journals.

“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping.”

“Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well do something productive,” Ford muttered as he continued to write down…whatever it was he wrote in those journals.

For a moment, Stan just stared at his brother, debating whether or not he should even try to convince him to rest. But then a huge coughing fit shook Ford’s entire body and any doubts died.

Stepping forward, Stan grabbed the journal and snapped it shut.

“Stanley! What are you doing? Give it back!” Ford glared at Stan, but with the bags under his eyes it didn’t look entirely threatening.

“Nope. You need sleep.”

“I told you, I can’t sleep. I need a sleeping pill to sleep and unfortunately I didn’t pack any so,” Ford gestured to the journal, “if you don’t mind giving me back my journal.”

Glancing at the journal, Stan frowned, but then a memory sparked in the back of his mind. “On one condition.” Stan pointed to Ford’s bed.

Ford stared at Stan for a few seconds, then sighed. “Fine…but I’m not going to sleep, I already tried.”

“We’ll see about that.” Stan said, smiling at Ford’s raised eye brow as he flopped onto this bed. Then Ford held out his hand and Stan reluctantly handed the journal to his brother before grabbing another book – one of the many Ford had brought.

Then he walked over hopped on the bed as well.

“Stanley what are you-?” Realization dawned on Ford’s face only to be replaced by a frown. “Stanley, I really don’t think that’s going to-“

Stan ignored Ford and started reading, effectively stopping Ford from voicing his doubts. Over his voice, Stan heard a resigned sigh, but he didn’t stop reading, even when he noticed Ford still writing in his journal.

Time ticked onward. Ten minutes and the scratching of a pen stopped. Twenty minutes, a head rested on his shoulder, Ford correcting how Stan pronounced certain words. Thirty minutes and Stan’s throat was starting to get sore, but the quiet snoring next to him made up for it.

There was no holding back a smile as Stan looked at Ford, sleeping soundly despite his doubts. “Works every time…”

Leaning back on the pillow, Stan closed his eyes. He knew he couldn’t move, if he did, Ford would wake up, so he might as well take a nap too.

#stanford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #pines twins #pines family #mystery twins #stan pines #ford pines #stan and ford #gravity falls spoilers #gravity falls fanfiction #my fics #my writing

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wittystiles · 6 years

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The Bluff || Part Four || Mitch Rapp

Author: wittystiles

Word count: 3.8+k

Title: Chapter Three

Summary: Mitch Rapp is the unlikeliest of nurses, and Stan gives Mitch a new mission.

Warnings: Cursing (as expected). Blood. So much sass.

A/N: Listen y’all, this was a nightmare. I could not write this for whatever reason. I even dubbed this “tuberculosis” at one point, because I was so fed up. I wanna shout out my wifey @ellie-bee242 for literally forcing me to write this and being my cheerleader. I love you. -- Y’all I forgot to take my placeholder name out, because I’m a raccoon (trash), so. I had to delete the previous post and repost this shit. I’m sorry. I’m worthless, lmao. Anyway, here’s my second attempt. Enjoy, please.

Mitch carried a suture kit to the bed, setting it on the nightstand beside (Y/N), his phone held to his ear by his shoulder. He listened to the ringing as he dialed Stan, his eyes widening to full alertness when he heard his trainers familiar rough voice answer on the other end.

“What is it, Rapp?”

Mitch sighed, “I have a situation on my hands, Sir.” He looked down at (Y/N) who was sleeping soundly, unmoving since he’d laid her on the bed nearly twenty minutes ago. He wondered absently how much they’d given her or if he should be worried about her going into an overdose. He decided she would have done it before he arrived if that were the case.

Stan grunted into the phone, “you always have a fucking situation on your hands, Rapp. I have a file cabinet in my office filled to the brim with situations and fuckups you’ve gotten yourself into in the two years that I’ve known you. What could it possibly be this time?”

Mitch left the bedroom where (Y/N) was sleeping, walking to the living room of his suite. “The arms dealer managed to make an escape, Sir. He had a hostage in his room that I was not prepared for. I chose saving the girl over capturing him.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end where Mitch worried they’d lost connection. “Excuse me?” Stan finally asked, and Mitch heard what sounded like a car door slamming in the background. “You what?”

Mitch picked up a water from the mini bar, pouring it into the plastic cup beside it. “I said, and I quote, the ar-”

Stan grunted and cut Mitch off, “don’t be a little shit with me right now, Rapp. I don’t need your condescending ass remarks. You lost the arms dealer?”

“Yes,” Mitch said, struggling to keep his tone neutral.

Stan raised his voice, “that was your only fucking purpose for being there, you little shit! How do you manage to fuck up your only job?”

Mitch carried the glass into the bedroom, set it down beside the suture kit, and then returned to the living room. “Like I said, Sir,” Mitch’s voice was dripping disdain. “There was an unexpected hostage situation. I valued the life of a possible civilian over that of an arms dealer.”

“What was your assignment?”

“To detain and question the arms dealer.”

“And what was it you didn’t fucking do?”

Mitch rolled his eyes, flopping down on the couch. “I’m not going to answer you when you talk to me like that.”

Stan boomed a loud laugh into the phone, “who the fuck do you think you are you little shit? You’re going to answer me no matter how I speak to you. That’s why being the boss is so wonderful. Assholes like you have to respond to me.”

Mitch took a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose between his first finger and thumb, remembering the punch he’d taken earlier. “Do you like being the biggest asshole, Sir?”

“Don’t be cute with me, boy.” Mitch listened to Stan speak in French to someone, presumably. “Where are you and this civilian that was more important than a Goddamn arms dealer?”

“In my room, Sir.”

Stan groaned, ‘of course she is. So you played knight in shining fucking armor to this chick?”

“Not really, Sir. I just took them out of their literal hostage situation. She was tied to a bed, and drugged, Sir.”

Stan sighed into the phone. “I’ll come rescue you from this bullshit soon, Rapp. Stay put, and don’t fuck anything else up for us, would you?”

Mitch disconnected from Stan, not bothering to retort. He slid his phone into the front left pocket of his jeans before pushing up from the couch. He heard a noise in the bedroom, running in to see the glass of water knocked off of the nightstand, the carpet now soaked. “What are you doing?” Mitch asked, bending to pick the glass up. He placed it back on the nightstand, resting his hands on his hips as he looked down at the half conscious woman.

“I was thirsty,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Can I please have water?”

Mitch took a deep breath before walking out of the room, returning with the half empty water bottle he’d used to fill the cup. “Here.” He held the bottle out to her, decided against it as she lifted her hand, and instead took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Lift your head.” He said, reaching out to hook his hand around the back of her neck to hold her head up. He held the water bottle against her lips, letting her drink for a moment before putting the bottle onto the nightstand, releasing her neck so she could lay back down.

“Do you feel alright?” He asked, trailing his eyes over her face, neck, and chest.

“No.” She murmured. “Not quite alright. Think ‘absolutely terrible’, that’s where I am.”

Mitch smirked, “wonderful.” Taking a moment to assess her injuries, he noted nothing would need immediate attention on her face. “It’s your shoulder, right?” He asked, indicating the spot she’d shown him a wound earlier.

She nodded, “yeah. You can look at it again, if you’d like?”

Mitch nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see it, her eyes had shut again. Slowly, Mitch moved the top of her shirt to the side, seeing the top bit of the knife wound. “May I undo a button on your shirt?” He asked of her, resting his hands on his thighs.

“Just take it off, it’s not mine and I don’t want to wear it any more. It’s his.” She near hissed the last word, shifting a bit to get the bottom of the shirt out from underneath her butt.

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked, clearing his throat.

(Y/N) reached down, beginning to fumble with the last button on the shirt. “Yep.” She grumbled, opening her eyes and craning her neck forward to see what she was doing.

“Here,” Mitch said, gently nudging her hands away. “Let me.” He slowly began undoing the buttons on the shirt, swallowing thickly when they were all popped. “Uh, you need to lift up.” He said, trying not to focus his eyes on her bare chest.

“Can you help me?” She asked in a soft voice. Mitch nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist, lifting her up. He pulled the shirt off of her arms and threw it to the side of the room, laying her back down against the bed. “Where’s your bra?” He asked, indicating her chest with a glance.

“If I knew, don’t you think I would be wearing it?”

Mitch clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes a bit at her. “You realize I’ve got to stitch your shoulder, don’t you?”

(Y/N) nodded.

“And so my hands are going to be -” Mitch pointed at the spot on her chest where the wound was.

“I know.” She said sounding unamused. “Look, guy, they’re just tits. I’m assuming you’ve seen a pair before, yeah? So just, stitch my shoulder and oogle at my chest later. I may even let you enjoy them, but for now. I need water, and my shoulder closed, and a fucking nap. I’m exhausted. So, focus.”

Mitch shook his head, his eyes widening in surprise. “Who are you?”

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you. Who are you? I think it’s fair I know since you’re gonna be fondling me for a while.”

Mitch scoffed, “I’m going to ignore you now and focus.”

He stood from the bed, walking into the bathroom to find something to sterilize her wound. He washed his hands thoroughly noticing that there was a clean set of wash clothes on the tub. He walked them out and set them on the suture kit. “Drugs still kicking in?”

(Y/N) was asleep again, her breathing steady. Mitch watched her for a moment before shaking his head, deciding that was creepy. “(Y/N)?” He whispered, trying to see if she was a light sleeper.

(Y/N) didn’t react.

Mitch sat down on the bed beside her again, opening up the suture kit. He produced a needle and rubbing alcohol, dousing one of the washcloths before cleaning around her shoulder. He then wiped the needle clean and huffed. “I know you’re not awake right now, which is good, but I hate threading needles.” Mitch bit his tongue between his teeth as he fiddled with the needle and thread, taking longer than he thought should be allowed on anything to finally thread it.

“Okay,” he said as he placed one hand on her chest. “This is gonna suck, I promise. But it’ll be over soon, and you and I can go our separate ways. No one will be the wiser.” Mitch took a deep breath, steadied his hands, and pushed the needle through her skin.

(Y/N) reacted immediately, her hand shooting up to grab Mitch’s throat. She hit his adam's apple in the process of wrapping her hand around his neck, squeezing automatically. “What the fuck?” She screamed, looking at the needle in her shoulder.

Mitch grabbed her wrist, ripping her hand off of his throat, trying to regain his breath. He rubbed at his neck with his free hand, keeping his other wrapped tightly around her wrist in case she felt the need to choke him again. When he could breath again, he threw her hand aside. “I could ask you the same fucking thing? Why the throat?”

(Y/N) shrugged, regretted it, and winced. “I knew it would stop whatever the hell was going on. I was asleep! And suddenly I’m being pierced.”

“I’m stitching your shoulder, (Y/N).” Mitch still had a hand around his throat, almost as if he felt the need to still protect it.

“Well it’s appropriate to wake someone up before sticking a needle through their skin, wouldn’t you agree?” Mitch shook his head, “I thought I was doing you a favor by leaving you unconscious.”

(Y/N) slumped back against her pillows, shaking her head. “You were wrong, and the choking was your fault. Really, you should be apologizing to me for making me go through that.”

“YOU CHOKED ME!” Mitch shouted at her, letting his hand drop from his throat. “I should choke you back, make it even.”

“Buy me dinner first.” (Y/N) gave him a smile, which Mitch eye rolled to in return.

“You’re not a joker, are you?”

Mitch didn’t bother acknowledging her question, instead he reached out and plucked the needle from her skin. “There. Bleed for all I care, (Y/N). I’m not going to get strangled again because you have a rapid and drastic response to a needle.”

“It startled me!” She defended. “I’ve had to be alert and unable to respond to anything that has happened to me in days. I was asleep, and I forgot that I was with you and not that fucking prick anymore. When I realized I could use my hands, that was what I was going to do.”

Mitch gave her what he felt was a frown, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider, I should have woken you up.”

(Y/N) was taken a bit aback by his apology, nodding her head a little. “Thank you, you’re forgiven. I’m sorry for strangling you.” She added on as an afterthought. “Now, can we please get back to stitching me up? I don’t think this wound is going to heal if it stays gaping like it is.”

Mitch shrugged a bit, “you’d be surprised what the human body was capable of.” He took the needle in his fingers again, taking a deep breath in. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked, hand hovering over her wound. (Y/N) gave him a nod, furrowing her brows to prove that she was sure. Mitch turned his attention to her wound, placing his hand without the needle back onto her chest, pushing the wound closed a little with his thumb and first finger.

“Ready?” Mitch stuck the needle into her skin again before (Y/N) could respond, shoving it through the other side of the wound in a swift motion. (Y/N) pressed her lips together in a tight frown, watching him as he stitched her wound.

“You know, for a tough looking guy like yourself, you’re being really gentle. Even your hand that’s holding the wound shut is light.”

“Was I supposed to be some bull of a guy who was rough with everything?” (Y/N) nearly shrugged but stopped herself, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Mitch sighed, continuing to stitch the knife wound in her shoulder. “You doin’ okay?” He asked when he heard her take in a quick breath of air, her hand shooting out to grab his arm. Her fingers gripped his bicep, her blunt nails digging into the skin that wasn’t covered by the short sleeve of his black tee.

“Yep, m’fine.” She promised, continuing to watch him work. “You still haven’t told me your name, by the way. I told you mine, it’s only fair.”

“What makes you think I trust you with my name?” Mitch had no sarcasm to his voice. He glanced at her hand, which was still holding his arm, and chose not to comment on it, letting her hold him as long as it helped her with the stitches.

“I trusted you with mine.” (Y/N) pointed out, fingers digging harder into his skin when he pinched her wound closer together.

Mitch tugged on the thread to tighten the stitches and close the wound. (Y/N) let out a sharp hiss, and he said his name. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, but she was fighting them back valiantly.

“Almost done,” Mitch told (Y/N), going back over the stitches once more to make sure that they were secured.

“What did you say?” (Y/N) asked in a whisper. “We’re almost done.” Mitch repeated, eyes focused on her shoulder.

“No,” (Y/N) slowly shook her head. “Before that. When you were pulling on the thread. You said a word.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, “I said my name. Not my fault if you didn’t hear me. I’m not repeating it.”

(Y/N) nodded her head, “yes you are. You’ve got my tits in your face, and you’ve been poking me with a needle for what feels like an eternity. You’re gonna repeat your name to me. I’ve shown everything to you, least you can do is tell me what to call you.”

Huffing, Mitch took his eyes off of her shoulder to make eye contact with her. “Would you please stop mentioning your tits?”

“Would you please tell me your name, and not act like you don’t appreciate them?”

Mitch groaned, “you’re done.”

“Done what? Are you gonna kill me because I asked your name? That seems a little Goddamn dramatic, don’t you think?”

Mitch grabbed her chin in his hand, turning her head to look at her shoulder. “With. The. Stitches.”

(Y/N) let out a relieved breath, looking over at her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Mitch nodded, searching in the kit for gauze and tape to cover the wound. “Mitch.” He said, tearing open the packet of gauze.

“Excuse me? I say thank you, and you call me a bitch?” (Y/N) went to scoot away from him, catching his faint chuckle.

“I didn’t say ‘bitch’, (Y/N). I said Mitch.” He made a hard m sound, so that she wouldn’t mishear him again. “That’s my name, since you were so insistent on knowing it.”

(Y/N) smiled a little, “I pegged you for a Chris or an Alex myself. You know? Some boring name.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, taping the gauze to her wound. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“You didn’t,” (Y/N) rushed to say. “I was just. You aren’t what I expect, Mitch.”

“Is that bad?” Mitch stood from the bed, cleaning up the mess from stitching her wound.

“Not at all! I just don’t get surprised by people a lot.”

Mitch threw the suture kit into his bag, “you were abducted and held hostage. How do people not surprise you all of the time?”

(Y/N) took a moment before responding, “you’ve got me there. I don’t have a response.”

Mitch pulled a shirt from his duffle and returned to the bed, holding it out for (Y/N) to take.

“I don’t want your shirt.”

“Do you have another option?” Mitch shook the shirt a little.

“No.” (Y/N) sighed, reaching out to take the shirt from him. She sat up, hesitating for a moment, before pulling the shirt on over her head. “God. Every movement sucks.”

(Y/N) shoved her arms through the sleeves of the shirt, moving to cross her legs underneath herself, the drugs wearing off enough for her to be mostly cognitive.

“I’ll leave you to rest. You should finish that bottle of water, (Y/N). You need your fluids, it’s important.”

Mitch turned on his heels to walk out, catching what (Y/N) spoke to him. “Thank you, for saving my life.”

Stan hit the door to Mitch’s hotel room with the side of his fist hard enough to make the door shake. “Open up, punk.”

Mitch jogged to the door, pulling it open. “You don’t have to pound so hard on the door. I heard your knocking.”

Stan shrugged, brushing past Mitch to enter the room. “Where’s the girl?” Stan asked, looking around the living room. Mitch shut the door and threw the lock, indicating towards the bedroom.

“She’s in there. She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, how sweet.” Stan rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. “Get rid of her.”

Mitch raised his left brow at Stan, crossing his own arms across his chest. “What do you mean get rid of her, Stan?”

“Kill her, Rapp. We have no way of knowing if she’s working with the arms dealer or not. Kill her before she gets a chance to kill you.”

“She’s had a chance,” Mitch confessed. “And she didn’t. She’s not going to.”

“What do you mean she’s had a chance?” Stan hardened his eyes on his trainee, trying to come off angry.

“I was suturing her wound, here-,“ Mitch indicated the spot on his shoulder, two or so inches under his collarbone, where (Y/N)’s stab wound was. “And she reacted rapidly. Reached out and grabbed my throat. She scared herself more than she scared me, Stan. She isn’t a threat, I would have known if she were by now.”

Stan stared at Mitch for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re dumber than you look, Rapp.” Stan walked to the bedroom before Mitch could stop him, opening the door wide to look at (Y/N), unconscious and curled up on the bed.

“Wake up.” Stan barked, huffing when she didn’t stir.

Mitch clamped a hand on Stan’s shoulder, pulling him back a bit, shutting the door to the bedroom. “I said, she’s sleeping.”

“Was she wearing your shirt?” Stan pushed Mitch’s hand off of his shoulder. “You ever grab me like that again, asshole, I’ll shatter your wrist.”

Mitch sighed heavily, “I know. And you’ll make sure it’s the one I jerk myself with, so I can never have any happiness. You’ve used that one before. You should get more imaginative. Take a creative writing class, Sir.”

Stan clenched his jaw, “It’s taking every ounce of control in me not to rock your jaw.”

“Do people still say that, Sir?”

Stan inhaled sharply through his nose, raising his hand to smack Mitch on the back of the head, catching Mitch by surprise.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, his hand rubbing at the spot Stan hit.

“I saw that in a show once. That was how the boss controlled his piece of shit understudy. It works wonderfully, so it seems. Like flicking a dog on the nose.”

“That’s been shown to make dogs more aggravated, Sir.”

“What are you, a fucking dog whisper? Shut up, Rapp, and get back on subject.”

“What’s the subject?” Mitch asked, sincerely.

“THE GIRL!” Stan shouted in Mitch’s face, turning his head to look at the door to the bedroom. “Kill her, before she can do anything to anyone. We don’t know anything about her, and I trust her almost less than I trust you.”

“She isn’t going to do anything.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, “this is exactly why I have high blood pressure. I’m going to have a cardiac embolism before I’m 70.”

“Before? Aren’t you already well past that, Sir? If you did, though, I’m sure the agency would allow you to retire. Or, rather, force you to. You’re well past the retirement age, aren’t you?”

“You really think you’re a fuckin’ comedian, don’t you?”

“No, Sir.” Mitch fought a smirk. “I think I’m a CIA special operative. Why, do you think I’m funny? Perhaps I could have a side gig.”

Stan raised his hand and thwacked Mitch on the back of the head again, this time hard enough to force Mitch to bob his head.

“Sir, if you hit me again, I’m gonna break your wrist.”

“The day you do, Mitch, is the day I let you fuck me.”

“What?” Mitch asked, recoiling from Stan a bit. “I would never want to fuck you, Sir. With or without your consent.”

“You completely missed my condescension, Rapp. I will never let you fuck me, just like I’d never let you break my wrist. If anyone’s getting fucked it’s you.”

“You wanna fuck me, Sir?”

Stan grunt, “No! Can we stop talking about this? You’re avoiding the conversation, Mitch.”

“About you screwing me? You’re the one who ended it.”

“About the girl.” Stan nearly screamed in Mitch’s face, a thick vein sticking out in his neck.

“What about her, Sir? I told you, she’s sleeping.”

Stan took a few deep breaths, making his way over to the mini-fridge, searching around the small bottles of liquor until he found the whiskey. He unscrewed the cap, and drank back the bottle in one swallow. “Mitch, poor stupid Mitch. You trust this girl?”

“To an extent.”

“You’ve already fucked up, then.” Stan grabbed the second small bottle of whiskey and threw it back.

“How so, Sir?”

“She’s your fuckin’ problem now.”

Mitch rest his hands on the back of the couch between him and Stan. “What?”

“Well, Rapp. You’re the one who rescued her, mistake one. Then you brought her here, mistake two. And you stitched her up, that’s three. Now you’re defending her, and not putting a bullet between her eyes. So. She’s your problem now, Mitch. Until we catch the arms dealer, you’re her protection. Think of it as babysitting, only she’ll probably end up killing you. Or people that want her will. Isn’t that exciting?”

“I’m not babysitting her, Sir. I’ve done my job. I rescued her, now I’m handing her over. You, or Irene, or the CIA themselves can deal with her. I’m washing my hands of the situation.”

“Rapp, she’s yours now. End of story. She’s your new mission.”

“Fuck me,” Mitch huffed under his breath.

Tags: @ellie-bee242, @redstringlovers, @lovefilledtragedy, @cathobs, @sumcp, @teamwolf2411, @confidentrose, @daddyxraeken, @iloveteenwolf24, @kalista-rankins, @stilinski-stydia-obrien, @omgimafuckingmermaid, @cuillere

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#listen y'all don't worry you don't have to say it i know i fuckin' suck lmao #but whatever at least its back up and like at least i wrote it tbh bc i didnt think i was gonna #and honestly this story sucks donkey dick but whatever (-:#sam writes #the bluff #mitch rapp fan fic #mitch rapp oneshot #mitch rapp fanfic #mitch rapp x reader #Mitch Rapp #mitch rapp imagine #dylan o'brien imagine

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