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marveldcmistress · 7 days ago

Note

For your celebration, I would like to make a request 💙

Steve Rogers. Soulmate AU. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Go wild, hon!!! And congrats!! 🎉🎉

The Heart and the Head (Captain America/Steve Rogers x F!Vigilante!Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Captain America x F!RogueVigilante!Reader

W/C: 5.2k~

Prompt(s): Soulmate AU, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Summary: Finding your soulmate was always a dream for other people. But certainly not for you and Steve. It’s too bad that fate had other plans.

A/N: Well, lads, and my special lad @justagirlinafandomworld - this is a long time comin'. This ask was sent by the lovely Yvette back in September for my 200-follower writing challenge. It only took the new year and 100 followers later - im so sorry. The writing muse really left my soul after publishing my challenge and it was just terrible timing. Hoping the cosmos will bless me with more energy to write as I love interacting with you all on here, feel so grateful to have a community on here, and also because I still love to write for our bb Steviee Rogers. Hope this won't disappoint too much! Yvette, thanks for sending in this ask and hoping all has been well with you, lovie~

*Soulmate AU where people who have soulmates develop their soulmate’s heart rate on the inside of their wrists. It’s a light gray color that just slightly glows and when you touch it, it can fade but eventually comes back. When they meet for the first time/find each other, the heart rate burns slightly and becomes a permanent tattoo on their wrist. Doesn’t fade but turns into a faded black tattoo.

Warnings: 18+ due to explicit language, angsty, Reader has powers that are mildly descriptive, sorta cliff hangar-y-(ish) but can be considered complete. Mild violent fight scenes and descriptions of theft/policework/etc.

Steve hasn’t ever given too much stock on finding his soulmate. To be honest, he never had the time to truly think about it.

He knew that it would be aimless to try and find ‘them’, wherever ‘they’ may be out there.

Even before the serum’s transformation, Steve was committed to enlisting– to contribute to keeping his country safe. It wasn’t fair for him to put his soulmate in a position to wait for him, only to find that he likely would never return from a war that was dead set on taking away lives to give more lives a chance.

Even when he fell for Peggy, even though they both knew that they weren’t rightfully each other's' ‘other half,’ he thought that maybe his fears surrounding love would end with her. But ultimately, his fears still came true. She was kept waiting for 90 years only for him to return to her, not dead, but heartbreakingly unchanged– forced to level with an incompatibility that went beyond not sharing the same heartbeat.

Even with this knowledge, Steve celebrated the privilege of having his soulmate’s heart rate glow on his wrist. Not many people would develop the mark – he was surprised to see it still beating strong too when he woke from the ice. The knowledge that he was meant to be in this modern era oddly satisfied his deep seeded curiosity about his soulmate, not enough to go and find ‘them’, but enough where he was admittedly comforted by the jagged lines still running past his humming veins.

Despite not seeking ‘them’ out, seeing that mark was the only thing that he felt that he had to grasp onto sometimes. It felt familiar and felt like home.

One brush across his wrist was enough for him to start his day but ‘they’ never preoccupied his thoughts for too long lest he wanted to bring himself a shot of angst in the beginning of his day.

But he couldn’t help the stray thoughts that would come sometimes when the day would be too idle. What did ‘they’ look like? They say that your soulmate smells like the scents that attract you the most. Would ‘they’ smell like fresh ambrosia? The potency of a fresh summer day? These questions stalked Steve when the days ran long and the nights became darker by each hour. Suppressing them became harder the more that he carried his mantle as Captain America.

Witnessing his team, feeling the camaraderie, even seeing Tony and Pepper just reminded him of what he was truly living for– he wanted to serve and protect. He just never gave thought about himself, or to consider building his own life personally until after the blip. As everyone frantically looked for others and found them again, he realized the importance of being someone other than Captain America…of being important to someone. His soulmate.

But how could he place his soulmate into a position to cope with the fact that he’s not just Steve Rogers.

“Captain Rogers, an alert has just been registered within the parameters that you’ve previously requested.” The dulcet tones of FRIDAY’s Irish brogue interrupted Steve’s daydreaming.

Steve’s heart thundered in his chest in anticipation, “Thank you, FRIDAY.” More alert than ever, he pressed a few keys on his desktop to pull up a live feed of one other thing that seemed to preoccupy his mind lately.

One thing that did come out of the Accords was that they’ve learned to finally listen. More than ever, Steve understood how important the Avengers needed to be mindful of reparations after their dangerous missions. Civil liberties should include repairing what was ruptured, and so, more efforts have gone into not only world-saving missions but also local crimes.

There was a new vigilante on scene– every time that he’s sent an agent to apprehend said Enhanced, they seem to always slip right through their fingers.

Until today.

Steve watched the masked vigilante calmly center themselves in the middle of the armed room – and with a gallant wave, the contents of the room that once sparkled expensive jewels and gems vanished leaving stark, blank empty display shelves.

The robber’s face flashing a grainy smirk through the lens of the video, with one last wave of their hand, they disappear from view as if they were never even there.

Watching the feed one more time, Steve couldn’t help but release his own smaller smirk at witnessing the thief in the act once more. FRIDAY promptly pulled up news headlines next to the feed to reveal in huge bold font:

“Brooklyn’s ‘Heart’ Makes Its Mark: Stolen Gems Become Jewels for the Local Community”

The Heart of Brooklyn. Steve had to hand it ‘em – it's not a bad name for the local hero. Certainly wouldn’t have minded one of those kinds of folks back in his day, could have saved him from getting beaten on so often.

Steve didn’t admonish ‘vigilantes’ as much as long as they carried on to do the right thing. However, the UN doesn’t seem to share that opinion – especially given the Accords. A stipulation that Steve still hadn’t had the time to fully process how he felt about it – this ‘Heart’ person committed crimes to benefit the people around them. The ‘Heart’ protected the people while he protected the world. How could he suddenly and justly prosecute when he was just like them once upon a time?

If he were being honest, Steve held admiration for the vigilante. It didn’t seem like much would be getting in the way of their agenda to bring about their own sense of justice.

Steve sighed as he looked at the official order of arrest for the ‘Heart’ signed and decreed by the state, along with the federal official government seal. A resolve settled in his chest as he did his best to put his unsettled feelings to the side to make space for Captain America. The ‘First Avenger’ who is sent to ultimately carry out and enforce these set of agendas that never seemed to benefit anyone else but the world.

Though, as he geared up later that afternoon to investigate a solid lead, the admiration for this local hero didn’t seem to wane.

Beads of sweat seemed porous as the anxiety-ridden man paced a few feet behind you before coming in close. His destabilizing emotions felt palpable despite the internal processing. The older man did a poor job of concealing his nerves, automatically putting you a bit on edge.

“Seriously, we need to move! It’s been too long– the police are on their way!”

“Oookay, relax, hotshot. I’ve got some scatters in place to lead them in a tizzy for awhile, alright? Just keep an eye on the door fo’me.” You said with a forcibly placating tone that obviously had no effect on the semi-masked man behind you.

You tried to work jobs on your own – it was better that way. Unfortunately, the prospects of this current lead led you to hire the most green man in NYC (as green as a thief could be) – but the score was too good to pass up. Thinking of what, who, and where this money could go was too high of a risk to lose.

Schematics of the building forced you to need a team to watch your six as you tried your hand at cracking the safe. But the poor guy’s nervous rambling and anxious pacing made it so hard for you to focus - you were spending more time calming the man more than getting the job done.

“I’m telling ya, Heart - I think they’re onto us! We need to leave this place before we get caught.” The heat of the man’s breath hit the back of your ear from where you were kneeling. His rattling nerves are practically audible and steaming off of his looming figure, frustration fueled through you with an annoyed eye-roll.

“Listen, Mattie. Mike told me that you were good and that you were the one who wanted to come on this one. You need to calm down, buck up, and do what I need you to do- which is stand over there, keep watch and shut your mouth. Can ya do that?” Pure irritation was the only thing being emoted now in your command.

Mattie released a reluctant sigh as he petulantly stomped back towards his original position to face the windows, finally quiet for once since the entire time that they had reached the location.

“Thank you.” A reverent breath couldn’t help but escape your mouth at the newfound relief in the sudden, yet much needed, quiet.

You were only a few more notches until you would be inside. When you felt the weight of the door give, your lips curved upwards in victory. Tilting the handle, you opened the steel opening…to reveal nothing inside of the safe.

“What the fuck?!” Your thoughts were intrusive and scrambled as your mind tried to process the emptiness in front of you. You were so confused, the intel that you had seemed so solid! Unless…

Your whole body tensed as you stiffly glanced behind you to see Matt, who hadn’t noticed the newfound tension– too preoccupied with his own. He resumed his pacing and was anxiously looking out the window with angsty glances here and there.

Turning back to the empty safe, you mutedly closed the heavy door as quietly as you could before calmly standing up from your posed position.

“Remind me, ‘Mattie’ – what’s the color of the day?” Stoicism and a cold fury radiated off of you in waves, making the man across from you sweat profusely. His face turned pale as he responded dumbly, “Pur–uhm, huh?”

The pallid man’s answer infuriated you even more as your theory just became confirmed. You knew that the cops usually gave each other a code to indicate their undercover status - this guy must be so (ironically) green that he basically gave it away with his anxious pacing and his near-answer.

A fierce growl left your snarled lips, “This is a fucking set-up!” Gathering your duffle in a rushed frenzy, you turned to the revealed, fumbling cop to state, “Tell ‘Mike’ or whoever you actually report to that we’re through, Officer.”

The undercover mess was speed talking his excuses at you as you continued packing your duffle to get out of there when all of a sudden, tear gas canisters splintered through the glass windows. The shards sprinkled everywhere around you as you attempted to flinch away from the shattered pieces.

Quickly crouching down behind a large cabinet, you could distantly see a blur of black tactical uniforms surrounding the darkened warehouse. Trying to control your breathing, you muffled a surprised shriek from hearing the distinctive multiple shouts, “POLICE! FREEZE NOW!”

Your mind was in a frenzy but your body was in a frozen state, until it forcibly stumbled away from you as another canister landed in front of your feet. Releasing a loud curse, you panicked and ran into view. Ignoring the spearing voices shouting different commands, you gave a sharp wave of your hand, coughing up a lung from all the smoke invading your system but achieved your goal by vanishing from their naked view.

Although you had ensured your invisibility, you didn’t account for all of the smoke that was being inhaled, causing your coughing fit to exponentially expand. You also didn’t account for the glass that was suddenly in your face, successfully blinding you as you protected your face from the sudden crash. The brashed cuts of glass caused by the crash landing of something, or rather, someone that you would never have expected to see in the flesh: Captain America.

Attempting to muffle your coughs once more, the visual clarity of the renowned Avenger was hard to miss. His dark blue stealth suit on display and the States stripes in all of its glory had you gobsmacked with your mind running rampant once more.

You didn’t realize that your recent…behaviors would’ve ever caught the attention of someone so high up. The Accords were criminalizing all and any Enhanced beings, but you weren’t hurting anyone! The communities deserve more than what they’re receiving from state and federal governments. There wasn’t enough money, food – people needed help.

For some reason, as you looked at Captain America, the hero that stood for the hearts and wellbeing of others, who stood there scanning the room for his enemy, for you– the hero hunting down those who he swore to protect– a sudden rush of hot indignation filled your entire body.

How dare he stand there? How dare he use his gifts to triumph over the needs of others? How dare he?

A harsh snarl left your lips as your body reacted first, any sense or voice of reason leaving your mind. Your feet were suddenly rushing over to the super soldier, who heard your exclamation as soon as it left your mouth. Steve’s preparedness in your capture heightened his other senses as he listened for your rushing footsteps towards him.

His shield at the ready, and with the smoke in the air aiding his instincts, he looked out for the sudden brush of fog and lept to action in blocking a sudden thunderous blow to his face. In the midst of throwing a vicious punch, ignoring the blinding pain to your fist from the hard metal’s impact, shock settled on your face on how easy it was for him to dodge your advances- but it didn’t stop you. Blind anger fueled in your veins and energy surged through you once more.

You and Steve proceeded to engage in a dangerous dance, with your relentless energy and forceful strikes attempting to land on his physical body. Steve was doing a careful job of listening to the brush of air as you attempted another punch, being attentive to the electric charge that only seems to be apparent when in close proximity with another human being, the swoosh of moving white fog, heavy landing steps of your physical presence.

It became clear that despite you being invisible, your current environment was destined to fail you. Your muscles ached in pain as your breathing became heavier, exhausted panting leaving you even more breathless. After one more lousy and tired punch, Steve’s mindful gaze attested a faint outline of a physical body heightened by the fading smoke in the room. With a determined lock of his jaw, Steve quickly crouched down to land a quick swipe at your legs.

Not expecting the swift move, you yelped in pain as his strong boots connected with your ankles. It was as if you were in slow motion with the way that you landed on your back. Muscles screaming in pain with a sharp ache on the back of your head pulsing in agony. Strength was distancing itself slowly but surely as your vision started fading.

Laying flat on the floor, all you could make out was Steve’s bouldering figure standing over you, and all that left your mouth was a tormented whisper, “Traitor.”

As you passed out, whether from the pain or fatigue from your fighting blows, Steve only furrowed his brows in confusion from hearing your last words. All he knew was that his curiosity for you grew larger as he finally met the Heart of Brooklyn.

Both of you also neglected to pay attention to a telling zap that ran throughout both of your forms the moment that Steve’s body collided with yours. It’s easy to chalk it up to the familiar aches and pains of a fight.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

You came to in the quinjet, the flying saucer already up in the air with the way that you fumbled slightly on the metal bench. Blearily, you looked down to take in the feelings of your arms across your chest and your fists being swaddled in strong, metallic cuffs. The silver wristlets looked like they were made for something stronger than you, that’s for sure. But – they did the trick. With these cuffs on, you weren’t able to access your powers. With another flick of your wrist, you could’ve been invisible from peering eyes and out of these cuffs in a flash.

“Just remain calm, Heart, and there shouldn’t be any issues.” A deep-baritone voice cut through the frenzy of observations running through your mind.

Blinking fiercely through the blurriness of fatigue, your eyes centered on the domineering force that was Captain Steve Rogers. The fury of the past day started to thunder the looming clouds that were your thoughts – feeling stupid is all you could center your anger into.

You felt stupid that you allowed greenies to intervene in today’s mission. You felt stupid that you even trusted the people who decided to come along under the guise of ‘’the cause’’. And, you felt stupid that you even thought that you could take on Captain fucking America in his tight spandex outfit. His limb features and muscular figure were cut like no other. It became clear to you that images of the First Avenger could not compare nor embody the pure visceral power that this dude emotes in person.

Sitting tall and straight, his helmet emphasized his determined blue eyes as they peered over your rigid position only to flit over the jet in wariness. It was like he was waiting for something else to happen with you on the plane, always monitoring.

You couldn’t help the derisive scoff that flew from your mouth, “The forever stiff and vigilant soldier for Big Brother, huh? Psh, pathetic.”

Your comment seemed to break his hard exterior as a tiny glint of– what seemed to be guilt, shined over his cerulean blue eyes. The glint disappeared though as soon as it came in, “Those are some abilities you got there. What else can you do?” The question seemed non-objective, though the curious tilt in his voice made the hint of warning glaze over his voice all the same.

Meeting his warning with your own blaze, you leaned in to whisper tauntingly, “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

After hours of interrogation from countless federal agents, you were able to exasperate the last one with a long exalted sigh of frustration and the metal door slammed after their departure from the cold, steeled room.

Your hands were still bound together uncomfortably so that your fingers interlocked together, creating the inability for you to snap out of your cuffs. Their analytics team detailed that a wave of your hand is one of the triggers to your abilities…giving you information that they don’t seem to be aware of all of your abilities. And you’d like to keep it that way.

Short of whistling and popping noises with your lips out of boredom, the agency seemed to have given up and have finally sent in the big guns.

Ardently groaning your frustration, “UGH - finally! Captain Rogers, we meet once more. I guess your agents have finally had enough of my poor rendition of Uptown Girl till they put me back onto your plate, huh?”

Just wearing his suit, shield and helmet out of sight, the super soldier still embraced intimidation within itself by just baring his broad shoulders out a bit more as he stood before you. A beige manila folder in his grip as he clasped the belt around his waist.

Trying not to look at the area south of his belt, you distractedly pointed it out, “That looks ominous.”

A slight smirk fell on his pink lips, “It’s meant to be. You got some heart, kid.”

You couldn’t help the weathered chuckle that erupted from your throat, “Wow, you really are as old as they say, huh ‘Cap’?”

Blatantly ignoring your jab, Steve released a resounding sigh as he took the empty metal seat across from you. Setting the folder down with a sharp slap, he proceeded to read out your file.

“What we know so far is your alias being measured by the media as, “the Heart”. Real name- unknown. From what our intelligence could gather, you’re an Enhanced with tactile and perception control—“

“Argh— blah, blah, blah, blah,” you interrupted with an exasperated roll of your eyes, “Just give it to me straight, Captain, what am I looking at?”

If Steve seemed perturbed by your bluntness, he didn’t show it. Only gave you a knowing and understanding look with his eyes, “You may not be looking at anything if you’d just be honest with me. Drop the snark for once and tell me what you want. The Accords are here to protect not just others, but as well as you. I can’t help you do that if you’re hiding underneath all of the smoke and dagger.”

A lump formed in your throat from how compassionate he sounded. If he was being sincere, it was convincing enough to bring a small glisten of tears in your eyes (not that you’d ever let them fall).

With a clenched jaw and a speculative squint, you gazed back at Steve and met his compassion with curiosity. “Why would you want to help me?”

Steve gave you another tired and soft smile, “Why wouldn’t I help you?”

The barriers inside that were locked and solid lowered just a bit at the genuine tone to his voice. You couldn’t help but notice the softening around his eyes, or the long eye lashes that enhanced his stern looking features. But his smile, it felt so open. Suffice to say, it wasn’t what you were expecting from the super soldier that you criticized as a defector.

Feeling your own features soften, your tense posture relaxed unconsciously as you leaned back into the discomfort of the metal chair. The cold parts of your cuff seemed to seep into your skin as you accepted this moment for what it is: a truce.

Steve seemed to catch the moment your guard went down and mirrored your physical ease by leaning back into his own chair. Soft smile and gentle eyes still intact as he cut into the retired silence, “So, all cards on the table. What can I help you with?”

Looking back into his soft gaze, you suddenly felt the air stifle around you and could barely keep eye contact with the man. Your voice was quiet as you spoke, “I only want to help people. While the Avengers are saving the world, there’s barely anyone around to help the world also save itself. Neighborhoods, communities— people are suffering.” Anger fueled through you as your words haunted the steel room, “People are going hungry and no one is doing anything about it. I got sick of waiting around for someone to do something— so I did instead.”

A reverence caught in your gaze as you felt your heckles arise, “I’ve only done what was right. If I could do something with what I have, then maybe, I can restore some good into the world.”

All the while, Steve hadn’t moved a muscle. Just silently listening and taking in your intentions and reasons for your “considered crimes”. There was something about the anger and rage that disguised something that Steve was all too familiar with— powerlessness.

He understood what it felt like to be without resources. Memories flooded his mind of moments before the war, gaining food scraps from Bucky’s family as he could barely make dinner for the day. He remembered how it felt for his stomach to make unnatural noises of hunger and to feel a desperation for change.

Powerlessness leads to motivation. To change. He knew it was possible— but he hasn’t seen it for some time, he realized.

Until you.

A stark realization embodied him as he took in your ambitious gaze and clenched jaw. A fierce embodiment of someone who understood their own capabilities and the willingness to do something good with it. In the most non-egocentric way, Steve saw himself in you. Not the broader back soldier, but the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who enjoyed stencils and baseball. He saw the version of himself that he had just now found again, through you.

Cutting through the thick silence, each of your brains processing the sudden change in air, something seemed to resonate and click with Steve the minute that his eyes met yours once more.

With a determined nod, he stood up and took out a small metallic pencil-shaped device and leaned forward to uncuff you. You looked at him in confusion and weariness as you felt the cuffs pressure release and you grip your wrists with a protective hiss. Rubbing the insides for comfort, you failed to notice the zap feeling once again as you touched your mark- chalking it up to the cuff release (again— spoiler alert: it definitely wasn’t that either).

“Are you sure you won’t regret doing that?” You asked deliberatively. Steve only looked down at you with heavy silence. Meeting his gaze hesitantly, you were met with an instantaneous warmth that felt so jarring that your own eyes widened in surprise. His eyes were darkened with a certain cloud of suspicion and unknowing in the last few hours – but right now, it was colored with a vibrant hue of faith, as if he could see right through you.

Before you could mask it, you felt your cheeks redden as you flushed under his familiar sight. You couldn’t deny that the super soldier was gorgeous…and tall..and had long eyelashes –

“Get up.” Steve interrupted your intrusive thoughts with a firm command.

“And go where?” Getting up slowly, you felt weirdly nervous about leaving the metal-boxed room. The room that was your prison had felt strangely comforting. Under this new territory with Steve, you suddenly felt that the outside world was something new, and that you had to be ready to explore.

As if sensing your newfound fear, Steve sent an easy going smile your way that you could only describe as a boyish grin.

“To go do some good.”

You couldn’t describe it but your entire body just felt off. You figure it must have been those cuffs that they put on you - maybe some weird Stark tech. Walking down the sleek hallways to the large gymnasium, you did your best to put your odd body aches to the side and reflected upon the past week.

Lo and behold, the moment that you left the room, you were met with the rest of the Avengers and a welcome package to the team. You initially rejected it (not that they really let you - it was either join or go swimming with the sharks at the Raft) but Steve insisted that you had potential to grow - to continue your work, to help others and help the local communities that needed it. He mentioned how you were right – the Avengers couldn’t be everywhere. They needed people on hand, on the ground to help fight the good fight where they couldn’t.

The prospects of being an Avenger certainly incentivized you. You never thought you’d be able to live up to its name, but realized that if Steve was able to see something in you that you couldn’t, it may be worth a shot. As much as you despised him when you were off the radar, there was something that cleared in your vision and you quickly were able to learn that the team certainly didn’t unanimously agree with the dynamics of the Accords. You also learned that Steve did his best to keep everyone together, and that he also genuinely just wanted to help.

Reluctantly, you realized - you admired him.

There was something about Steve that you found honorable. Was he handsome? Sure. Muscle-y? Sure. Light blue eyes that you could drown in? Perhaps. But it wasn’t just his looks that drew you in. The energy felt like something deeper and more ingrained…you respected him. And his capacity to understand that underneath it all, people were just people, and that we need each other.

You’d like to think you could be like him some day. Or be on top of him, or under him…–

‘’Stop that!’’ The parts of you that felt attracted to Steve certainly became louder as you spent more time with Steve. There was just something about him that you couldn’t seem to just put away.

You’ve been training with the team, mostly Natasha, to become more equipped in hand to hand combat. Today, you were pleasantly surprised by the screens that greeted you at the gym. Natasha waved over to you and gestured you over with a curious smirk.

“Hey!” Flushed from being lost in your thoughts, you stood next to Natasha reverently while staring at the computer screens in front of you. “What’s all this?”

“Penny for your thoughts, Ghost?” Natasha’s grin was unfaltering as she cued in your new nickname. Ghostface - slipped right out of Stark’s smug mouth after watching the footage of some of your enhanced abilities. Ever since then, the team has taken a liking to the codename.

Rolling your eyes good-naturedly, you replied dryly, “Oh - the infamous Black Widow is asking me a question - your interrogation skills are quite unmatched. But I think I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”

Letting out a small chuckle, she turned back towards the screen and nodded for your attention, “I wanted you to take another look at the footage from the warehouse–,”

“Ughhh, do I have to? Why are you rubbing it in my face? I get it - Steve is way better at hand to hand combat but to fair – “ you interrupted childishly only for her to swat her hand in your face to disturb your complaints. “Relax, that’s not why. I want you to analyze your footwork in comparison to some of the skills that we’re learning right now. I want you to point out anything different about your moves.”

Sighing petulantly, you crossed your arms and proceeded to watch the grainy camera footage from Steve’s suit. After a few minutes of watching Steve kick your ass, you pointed out a few steps that you felt that you can do differently now. Natasha seemed to agree and continued to encourage you to point something out, but this time in your upper body movement. After a few more minutes of silence, you looked closer at your arms and noticed something peculiar right as Steve basically tripped you.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you gestured to the video once more and asked Natasha to go back a few seconds. It was hard to see, but you could see the sliver of your wrist exposed in the video. The quality wasn’t the best, despite the Stark tech, as Steve was moving pretty fast.

Your heart stuttered as your brain attempted to process what you were seeing on the screen. Something that clarifies the ‘’off’’ feeling from the past few days, something that made sense of the dysregulation in your body– without thinking, you shoved Natasha’s bent form from the controllers and proceeded to go back and forth between seconds in the footage.

Natasha only frowned in confusion from the move and allowed her eyes to match your suddenly focused gaze. What she saw made her eyes widen in slight surprise.

The height of both of your fixations was the slight glow of your soulmate mark on your wrist suddenly fading as Steve’s legs intercepted yours. Although faint, the mark’s glow disappearing from your wrist was too clear to dismiss as simply the trick of the light.

Almost in fascination, you felt your body disconnect from yours as you found yourself unable to deny what you were seeing. How did you not notice it before?

Steve Rogers was your soulmate.

The following words escaped before you could even process them: “Are you fucking kidding me?”

A/N: DON'T HATE ME! lol, I thought that I'd do a different spin on the Soulmates!AU where Reader is kinda left with this surprise. Wonder how Steve noticed his mark also fading away 👀 figured this would leave enough room to continue this universe if we did enjoy it. Ngl, not the biggest fan of this work -- I'm sure it needs some editing but tbh, I didn't wanna leave y'all hanging anymore! It's been too long since its been asked and I wanted to be able to publish it so it can finally be read! Regardless, hope you enjoyed it a bit and please leave your thoughts, lads <3 ta, for now.

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marveldcmistress · 7 days ago

Text

Between the Reeds and Waterlillies

Part of the Forgotten Forest AU

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!Water Fairy! Reader

Header by me, made in Canva and pics from Pinterest (credit to OG posters) | Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics | Header by @/cafekitsune

Tags/warnings: it is from Ran's P.O.V. this time so it is 3rd person, Ran being an ass, being underwater and it being dark, throwing up description as well as heaving, fairy antics, general warning of a dark fic considering the themes

As always, not beta'd and 18+. I do not consent for my work to be translated, copied, reposted or put through AI.

Summary: When Ransom is gifted the Drysdale Cabin by his grandfather, he couldn't be happier. But after a few days he realises there's something off about the solitude land that he can't quite put his finger on.

Word count: 2.7k

Forgotten Forest Masterlist | Ransom's Masterlist | Masterlist

The Drysdale Lakehouse was situated in amongst the trees along a long quiet road and sat in front of a large lake that was adorned with waterlillies. It was one of the few places that Harlan had built and one of the few Ransom adored.

Harlan had always promised Ransom the house when he'd "come of age" and Ransom had counted down the days that he could finally hold the deed in his hands. Those goal posts shifted often; from eighteen, to twenty-one and now the big three-oh. Twelve years of waiting and he finally had it.

It was the only place that held fond memories. Swimming in the lake on a hot summer's day, reading in a nook on rainy November evening, spending the nights looking up at the starry sky with nobody else to bother him. He'd wondered why Harlan had kept him away from the place when he turned eighteen; he wasn't able to get an address from anyone, even with begging and bribery. When Harlan had handed him the deed it came with written directions and a long-lasting hug that, had Ransom had more to drink, would have left him a little teary eyed.

The house was more cabin-esque. Two floors, wood and stone walls, large windows and a decking that overlooked the lake. As Ransom pulled up his heart sung happily, happy memories of Harlan and him as a child.

Ransom allowed the grin that spread across his face. It was finally his.

The first thing he did stepping out of his car was walk down to the lake to admire the view. There were tall reeds overgrowing near the short pier, not that it mattered as Ransom strolled up and, without breaking his stride, picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the water with ease.

The surface ripples in every direction and Ransom feels like the king of his secluded castle.

The night was quiet, as expected, with Ransom nursing a steaming mug of tea and looking out over his newly gained land. Fireflies loiter beneath the stars surrounding the lake and there's a hum of an insect orchestra that makes Ransom shiver.

As beautiful as it seemed, the bugs still creeped him out.

Before he moves away from the window he does a double take. He could have sworn he saw someone - a woman - wading through the lake from the shoreline. He blinks and blinks again. There is no woman to be seen, only the reflection of the moon burning the lake silver.

He shakes his head in disbelief, moving to his work desk and opening his laptop. From what he'd seen that morning, the water lilies and reeds had become out of control and needed to be tended to post-haste.

The reeds seemed easy enough to deal with, but the waterlilies would probably be far more difficult; with their long stems reaching far beyond the lakebed to take root. Google is less than helpful in his search to remove them on the cheap, citing specialists and instructions with products unavailable in America or would destroy all life in the lake. There are also many articles that make Ransom grumble, ranging from How to Care For Your Lily Pond to Amazonian Lily Pads: Lessons in Biodiversity in Rivers.

After a few moments of scrolling and clicking (and sighing), Ransom clicks on a random link that led to a website with a sparkly pink heading.

How To Keep Fairies Happy.

"You've got to be kidding me." Ransom snorts, the downward whirr of the mouse-wheel giving him a split-second view of the webpage. It looks like it's a blog dedicated to fairies and other mythical creatures but there are sources cited from old books in a variety of languages Ransom had never even heard of. What he originally thought was a passion project of a teen with too much time on their hands, now seems more like an online archive by a professor of some kind.

He clicks on the glossary page and clicks a random letter, opening the first entry in a new tab. The entry is detailed; plenty of information that's easily digestible and not using stupidly long words in an attempt to sound smarter. There are sections from books, pictures and even a fancy widget that lists apparent confirmed sightings of said mythical creatures as well as appearances in text, literature and film.

Ransom hits the back button, his mouse arrow hovers of the letter W on the alphabet line before he shakes his head. What was he thinking?

His mind flits to the old man. He had been correct about there being no development plans near the lake even though it was a flood-safe area and, after looking at the original planning permissions that Harlan had drawn, the land surrounding was technically still up for grabs if anyone wanted it.

It didn't make sense. A secluded spot with a giant lake which, after reading the article on waterlillies, Ransom now knew that the water of the lake was clean. Clean water. Secluded from civilisation. Surrounded by forest and fauna. This would be the perfect place for a development plot, selling to rich buyers who wouldn't second guess an exorbitant price. So, why hadn't Harlan done that?

He knew his grandfather liked his peace but this? This was too much. And giving it to Ransom to freely do with what he pleased?

Something was wrong - very wrong- and Ransom realised with building irritation that he'd fallen for another one of Harlan's games. If it wasn't the water it must be the land - but what exactly Ransom didn't know but planned to find out.

He glanced back at the screen before sighing and slamming the laptop lid shut. Fairies. What a joke. He'd call the some people the next day and see what could be done.

"Well, Mister Drysdale, from what I've seen the land looks fine."

Ransom scowled from beneath his sunglasses. The man was a local; good reviews from the town twenty miles away. Apparently, not good enough to get out to Ransom for at least three days, of which he'd tried removing some of the lillies himself. But it had just seemed like more grew in their place overnight.

"What do you mean?" Ransom snapped.

The man adjusted his well-worn baseball cap and let put a long sigh. "Well, err, short of sending land samples to a lab," he begins, giving Ransom a weary look. "The land and foundations of your home are - well, they're solid. Well-structured. There's no rot, no flooding."

The man throws up his hands and let's them slap across his thighs. "I actually don't think I've ever seen this land looks anything less than perfect, if I'm honest Mister Drysdale."

Ransom grits his teeth. "What about the waterlilies?"

"Means ya have clean water. I don't know any specialists in this area.... I don't think I've ever seen 'em out here." The man scratches his head under his baseball cap before shrugging. So much for an expert in shoreline plant life. "I could certainly look into it. See if any acquaintances may know a thing or two about removin' 'em for ya."

"Right. Thanks."

As the man climbs into his truck to leave Ransom bends down and picks up a pebble at the shore. It's round, with distinctive white scars across its surface. He thumbs it, soothing himself for a second, before launching it into the lake. There's a bloop as the lake swallows it, ripples dancing their way over the surface and Ransom turns away to head back into the house.

Not even taking his first step, Ransom is smacked in the back of the head - hard. He yelps, hearing the clattering of rock on rock and looks to his feet. It was the rock he'd thrown to the lake. He looks behind him and sees nothing but the still lake, rolling his shoulders hoping it would help with the uneasiness that was beginning to stick in his bones.

Ransom stares at the laptop screen, chewing at his thumb through his favourite ratty sweater. He can't believe he's actually looking at the damn fairy blog.

There were more to Water Fairies than he had originally realised. Who knew?

Water sprites, water pixies, water spirits, naiads, ladies of lakes, undines.... the list went on. His brain boggles for a moment but then remembers the pebble incident. That seems like something spritely or pixie-ish. Even though the pebble throwing matches a pixie's demeanour, the images that appear don't match what he saw on his first night of the woman in white wading into the lake and there's nothing about waterlillies.

The next tab is naiads; nymphs that live in water like lakes, rivers, brooks and other bodies of fresh water. They also don't match the woman in white or the waterlillies.

He's about to open the Lady of the Lake tab when something catches his eye out the window. He jumps to his feet and lo and behold, the woman of the hour, haunting the pier. Ransom throws the window open and calls out, but there's no reaction from the spectral form, and by the time he's turned to grab his phone and look back she's disappeared.

Thinking she can't have gone far, Ransom bolts down the stairs and out the door. He won't be scared off be some local crazies. Not after everything. Not after all this time.

He stomps his way to the pier and find the old row boat; thankfully unrotted but definitely weathered and unties it. Ransom angles himself carefully in, scanning the water and reeds with the torch of his phone, before casting off and rowing out into the lake.

"I know you're out here!" He calls to the darkness. "Show yourself!"

"Hello Ransom."

"Jesus." Ransom startles and turns to look beside him.

Resting her crossed arms on the side of the boat is the woman in white. Although she's slightly more damp, she's still beautiful; moonlight cradles her face and Ransom his suddenly very aware that he's never seen someone as extraordinarily perfect in all his life.

It makes him feel uneasy.

"How do you know me?"

"Your grandfather talked about you." She tilts her head at him, unblinking. "You're prettier than he said you were."

"I-I-..." Ransom snaps his mouth closed, unsure of what to say and desperate not to embarass himself. Instead he swallows thickly, blue eyes taking in the beauty before him before asking, "You know my grandfather?"

"Yes." She nods - well, it's not a nod; more of a vague tilt of her head as to not ruin the perfect fall of her hair.

"How? I've never met you before or heard he was renting out the house." Ransom's brain whirrs, trying to think of her relation to Harlan; sugar baby? Illegitimate child?

"He never told you?" She says clearly surprised but with an eerie smile crossing her face. "Oh, now that's just cruel."

"What are you talking about?" Ransom snaps, released from his stupor. "Tell me everything you know."

"You are spoiled." She says simply. "To all people you are the clear favourite of Harlan."

Ransom frowns, jaw clenching with annoyance. "So?"

"Did you never wonder why, in your short human life, your grandfather never once said no to you?" She tilts her head, letting her shoulders dip beneath the water.

Ransom's frown deepens. What the hell was she getting at?

"Ransom, dear sweet Ransom, you were consolation prize." Hands grip the sides of his boat and Ransom is horrified to see they are slightly webbed as the woman in white pulls herself up. "For me."

"What the-" Ransom scrambles back, picking up one of the oars and holding it in front of him shakily, watching as the woman - still ghostly in the moonlight - stands before him in the tiny boat, baring slightly pointed teeth at him. "Stay back!"

She looks vampiric; a terrifying amalgamation of horror and beauty. Her white dress clings to her body, moving like water in the gentle rustling breeze and despite feeling abhorrent, stomach churning dread; Ransom can't help but to admit his attraction to her, even if he feels equally insane for doing so.

"Your grandfather wanted this land so badly." She clicks her tongue. "Human greed never ceases to amaze me."

Her eyes settle back on Ransom and he feels like there's a frog stuck in his throat; stopping him from screaming, yelling, fighting. Round, black eyes fixate on him and she smiles softly.

"You were never Harlan's favourite, darling. He spoiled you rotten out of guilt." Icicled fingers brush his cheek and he jumps, making the woman laugh, and when he remembers to breathe all he can taste is the sharp chilled scent of freshwater on his tongue.

He blinks up at the woman, whose face is genteel and picturesque, and forces himself to breathe normally; forcing his fear down in place of anger. He scowls furiously at this strange, mad, beautiful woman.

"Fuck you," he spits. "I may be an asshole but my family doesn't hate me enough to go along with your delusions of grandeur."

"What did you just say?" The woman's face contorts with anger, her fingers pausing their cool trail over his cheek and Ransom takes the opportunity to slap her hand away.

"You heard me - crazy bitch." He snaps moving to push her backwards. The push is hard enough that she loses her balance, and although it isn't enough to topple her, it gives Ransom enough space to dive from the boat.

The water is dark and cool and thankfully, despite his reluctance to join many sports, swimming was something he'd always enjoyed. Racing to the shore for his life when he was out of practice, however, was incredibly difficult. Ransom's hair was in his eyes, his thick coat dragging him down and holding him back. Ransom was sure he was swallowing more water than he was breathing air from the way his stomach rolled with grotesque disapproval but he couldn't hear the mad woman diving in after him.

Nearing the shoreline, Ransom panted and heaved, his stomach cramping as freshwater rose and spilled out of his mouth. His feet tangled with waterlily stems as he tried to fight his way through the aquatic mass of plants, only to find he was barricaded by long, thick reeds.

Between the reeds and waterlillies, Ransom couldn't see for shit, let alone move through the thick undergrowth. His only solace was knowing that the mad woman was on the boat and would take a while to catch up to him. He had to think fast. He had to come up with a plan. Call the police. He had to-

"You're a good swimmer."

Ransom freezes, arms halting their pawing at lily pads. He turns, slowly and there she is behind him.

"Stay away!" Ransom shrieks, legs kicking furiously to get away from her. He stumbles backwards into the water in a blind panic, hands grazing the bottom of the lake for a mere split second.

Rocks.

He fists his hand, grasping a few small rocks in his palm and when he breaches the surface, he hurts them at the woman. Two of the three rocks miss but one skims her head, just above her eyebrow. She blinks and gently touches a bleeding cut in her skin with a hiss before giving Ransom a frightening glare.

"You vicious little welp." She snarls. "You belong to me. A deal is a deal."

The woman advances, hands reaching for his face as he scrambles further into the reeds. Ransom swats her hands away frantically as he battles the thin reed stems.

"You should be grateful patience is one of my virtues and that I don't kill your for your insubordinance." She huffs, straightening. Then the croak of a frog echoes into the night and the woman's face erupts into a lunatic grin like she had just had the best idea in the world.

"You're insane!" He screams as his guts twist uncomfortably. She waves her hand and Ransom feel nauseous.

He feels small. No - he is small. Looking down he sees that his hands are green and slimy and when he screams the only sound that emerges from his throat is a croak.

"Aha! Much like your human fairy tales. No princess would kiss your festered flesh to begin with! Now look at you!" The woman giggles and leans down, palms against her knees, to sneer at the frog that sits in place of Ransom. "My poor little Ransom. My poor little pet. When you feel like apologising to your betrothed come and find me but until then..."

She walks backwards, sinking away into the dark waters with an evil smirk. "I hope you enjoy eating flies."

Part 1 End

-> Part 2

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I think looking at my WIP list gave me burn out lol. How do we think Ransom will fair against his fairy companion? 🐸

This was originally supposed to be Ransom's Sun, Sea and Sirens instalment but I loved it far more as the OG concept (fairies!!!).

A/N 2: fumbled my interview and chilling my little toe beans by watching Knives Out and a cocktail 😌 I think it's safe to say Ransom fixation is back online baby

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marveldcmistress · 7 days ago

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'Babygirl'

Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader (platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader)

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Summary: You get possessive while watching Sharon flirt with Steve.

Warnings for being short, bit of teasing Steve, but nothing else. WC 638

He’s not into you. Move on.

Steve arrived at Bucky’s with a ‘friend’ tonight. She was sweet enough, at first, but now she’s really making you mad. ‘Sharon’ won’t stop flirting with Steve, who seems especially uncomfortable when her hand brushes down the length of his back.

Steve’s neck tenses slightly as she whispers something in his ear. His body stiffens each time she laughs and rests her head on his shoulder. He does not move his hand over hers once she lays hers on his thigh to lean forward in conversation.

She leaves it there.

Her hand, just sitting there, on Steve’s lap, and he’s clearly not into it.

You hop onto the coffee table and swat at Sharon’s hand before she suddenly moves to touch you.

“Awww, Steve, look. I think she’s jealous of us,” she coos.

Sharon flips to scratch at your cheek, which feels good, then she says exactly the wrong thing.

“Don’t worry, babygirl. He’ll still be around to pet you.”

No one—no one—calls you that but Steve.

Your fangs are out instantly, claws spread on both front feet as one raises into the air, and both Steve and Bucky pounce to stop you. Sharon, however, is the fastest to grab the scruff behind your neck and lift you to arm’s length.

“No, Alpine, we don’t attack friends,” Bucky soothes.

“Bad kitty,” Steve bites from behind bared teeth. “Stop that.”

You fall limp in Agent 13’s hold, eyes wide and questioning to the handsome blond man whose honor you were protecting, but after a moment of silence, Bucky cracks up, doubled over with near tears in his eyes.

Sharon breaks next, gently placing you in Steve’s lap as he settles back onto the couch, a dejected look on his face.

You don’t understand. You think they are laughing at you, so you growl in annoyance.

“Well, at least somebody bought it,” Sharon chides Steve. “Can’t say your performance will work on anybody else.”

“The point is for the mark to believe you two are a couple, punk. I barely believe you’re friends. You look so uncomfortable.” Bucky shakes his head, sweeping over your haunches before returning to his seat.

Sharon scratches your butt, and your head whips around to give her the stink eye from behind the tucked forearm of Steve. She smiles, almost proud of your fighting spirit.

“Don’t worry,” she loudly whispers to you. “We’ve kissed before, and let me tell you, there is nothing there.”

“Hey,” Steve grumps, “it wasn’t that bad.”

Bucky makes a face. “He…tried. Gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder to convince a new gang in Madripoor—“

“I know, but it’s not really me, is it?” Steve pulls you a little closer, holds you a little tighter in his defense.

“The photostatic veil cannot make you a believable boyfriend just like it cannot make you a good dancer,” Bucky points out.

“Woah, now,” Sharon chuckles, “baby steps. Literally. Rogers has two left feet.”

Steve looks down at you gazing up at his handsome face. “Alpine has faith in me,” he mutters.

“We’ll have faith in you after you practice. Put down your real girlfriend and come dance with your fake girlfriend so we don’t all die in two days!”

He just buries his fingers in your fur, talking about how soft you are in hushed tones. You don’t like how stressed Steve looks, and you wedge your face into the crook of his elbow in an effort to console him.

Bucky clears his throat.

“No, you may not take my cat into a sting operation—” he stretches his arms toward you to take over “—not until she’s had some training at least.”

“Absolutely,” Sharon bursts. “Train her up! Bring her everywhere—that’s safe—because I like her. She’s feisty.”

[Next Part: Outing]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

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marveldcmistress · 9 days ago

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# strong boi

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marveldcmistress · 10 days ago

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Cat hybrid!Ransom Drysdale 🐾🐱

Character sheet for Hybrid!AU

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marveldcmistress · 10 days ago

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LMFAOOOO

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marveldcmistress · 11 days ago

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Pampered

Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Alpine!Reader (platonic Bucky Barnes x reader)

Summary: A stranger comes by while Bucky is stuck on a mission longer than expected. Your friend's friend is...uh...really hot.

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Warning for shameless enjoyment of cat behavior designed to mess with Steve, probably puns (many, many puns), thirsty thots, and fluff. Steve's just a sorta-clueless good guy. So...no warnings. WC 992

The sound of the key wakes you from a nap in the sunny sliver on the bed.

Normally, Bucky says he’s home when he returns, but all that follows the door clicking shut is “what’s this mess?”

No more words after, only the crinkling of plastic, foil, and cardboard as whoever came in cleans up your mess. Bucky has been gone for almost three days, and since you can’t figure out how to make yourself change back, you chewed through various packaged foods and snacks. You’re fine because this little form needs very little sustenance, but the intruder…doesn’t agree.

“Rascal” rumbles deeply down the hall.

You jump down as quietly as you can and peek toward the kitchen.

Enormous, broad shoulders are visible over the island countertop, and a perky, round bum angles to and fro as he gathers the last bits of trash.

The man straightens after shoving it all into the bin. He’s…he’s…he’s really handsome.

“Hey, kitty—I mean, Alpine, right? Hi, Alpine,” his soft, unfamiliar voice calls down the length of the apartment, “I’m Steve.”

Who the hell is ‘Steve?’

You shift so that only one of your eyes is visible to the newcomer.

“Bucky’s friend,” he adds, immediately muttering, “which she can’t understand, you idiot…” Steve begins searching the lower cabinets and finds the crap cans of cat food Bucky squirreled away after you refused to eat them.

“You’re either very hungry—or perhaps not hungry at all based on the stuff you ruined.”

This ’Steve’ is not a cat person. The big, blond man, bigger than even Bucky, fills your bowl and walks it over to you.

With each step forward, you bend lower in suspicion, but he doesn’t really notice before unceremoniously placing it in the doorway and continuing to the bathroom.

You’re not eating that, so you follow until he turns, looks confused, and shuts you out.

Gross. Unacceptable. You miss having thumbs.

If he’s going to bother at all, he’s damn well going to use those meaty arms to open you a can of the human stuff—the real food Bucky learned to feed you on day one.

You slap your bowl until it upends, trot into the kitchenette, and hop on the counter beneath the correct cabinet.

“Alpine,” you hear Steve shout from the bathroom, “what was that?”

Despite his annoyed grunt once he finishes and sees the spill, you paw repeatedly at the cabinet, crying in urgency because it seems to be the only thing he’ll respond to: pathetic guilt. You also come face-to-face with not just a handsome man, but possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and lose time staring into his sky blue eyes.

“No,” Steve says, knocking you out of your daze. “Get down.”

You growl when he shoos you off.

After a half-minute standoff, Steve caves, sighing in defeat.

“Buck always said he’d spoil a girl rotten…”

Well, you, sir, are cute, distant, and awkward. So there.

He starts to leave the kitchen, so you plant yourself in front of him.

“Babygirl,” Steve snaps, making you preen slightly at his tone, “I gotta get your bowl, or you get nothing, okay?”

Oh, yeah. I guess he does, you think with an indignant chirp, sitting by your bone-dry water bowl while he shuffles around, griping about wiping up the floor yet again.

You lick at the food only as long as it takes him to refill the water, and then you run over to the first potted plant, screeching. He’s making his way to the front door without noticing.

He hisses at himself. “Good call. I almost forgot.”

No one knows you can pull the tap to drink out of it like a fountain, but you have no way of transferring some water to the plants. Watching them wither has been the most motivation so far to attempt transforming back to a human, a problem you no longer have to worry about now that Steve is here.

“Buck got delayed,” he explains, “probably just another day or so. He’s mentioned figuring out a doggy-door situation for you, but apparently that’s a non-starter for the building. I guess…Guess you’re stuck with me coming by on occasion.” Steve rambles as he moves from pot to pot.

You stay at his heel, craning your neck to watch him gently tip the watering can repeatedly, a few veins pulsing along his thick forearm as he does so.

When he’s done, you sit in the middle of the hall, watching him gather his stuff and slide on his shoes.

“Eat, babygirl,” Steve encourages as he leaves.

You simply stare and shift on your paws expectantly.

He frowns. “Buck is coming home. I promise. He’ll be back soon.”

But Steve doesn’t continue to shut the door. His hand is just frozen there while he eyes you.

Then he gives in, comes inside again, and bends down to pat your head. It’s the first time he’s touched you.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” Steve squats down, a sad smile stretched over his face. “What do you want, huh? You want company? You been alone too long?”

Yes.

You press into his hand and slowly blink.

“Alright, alright—“ he stalks over to the couch and sits, relaxing finally “—I’ll stay a while.”

Steve waits for you to settle beside him, curling against his firm thigh before he rubs down your back in a steady rhythm. You’re sure to purr loudly and respond to his continued chatting with merps and meeps. You can tell he's stressed like Bucky was when you first met, but as the minutes become an hour or more, the tension melts away. Steve seems to forget about everything else until his phone rings.

When he’s almost closed the door, Steve peeks one of his eyes around to see you standing patiently.

“Be a good girl for me and eat, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

Yes, Steve, I will.

[Next Part: 'Babygirl']

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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marveldcmistress · 12 days ago

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after giving it a lot of thought, I got a nice of people to be the lost boys :)).

ari levinson should definitely be the “leader" of the group. I mean , look at him !! it’s pretty self explanatory. now , for the rest :

frank castle, bucky barnes , thor , steve rogers , loki , pietro maximoff.

you can totally tweak it if you want to !! 🫶🏾

a/n: i rewatched the 2003 peter pan before scribbling this down (was that movie also one of the ones that awoke something inside of you growing up? because it did for me in too many ways omg). alright, some peter pan lost boys au headcanons, let’s go!!

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

okay, so in the peter pan spirit, ari would definitely be the one you first meet and who gets you roped into it all and takes you with him to neverland.

i’m imagining that you’re in a phase in your life where everything is just going horrible, everything is super stressful and you don’t know how you’re supposed to juggle it all.

that’s when this dude shows up in the middle of the night

at first you think it’s a dream, but nope, it’s an actual human being, strange as he is (maybe it’s the classic fight with his shadow and you help him see it back onto him after he’s caught it)

also, omg, is that dude flying? yup. definitely floating.

(also let’s just go over the basics, they may be called the lost boys, but they motherfucking grew up if you know what i’m saying. sure, they lads all came to neverland as children, but in this version, let’s just underline the fact that they aren’t frozen as kids, just in case one person randomly stumbled over this and got confused. but that also means that they are a group of guys who have from a young age been isolated from women, especially everyone but ari who doesn’t get the luxury of just flying off to london for the lols and then coming back home with new and scandalous tales)

but anyhow, we all know how the story goes: ari instantly becomes obsessed with you the second that he lands in your window and simply has to take you with him back to neverland (coaxes you to him with the whole “one girl is worth twenty boys” and the prospects of teaching you how to fly)

and naturally, you think of the invitation as the escape from your miserable existence that you’ve been just waiting for, and you didn’t even have to go through the pain of quitting your job first, you could just disappear into the night with some hunky dude

now, straight ahead from the second star on the right, when you reach the morning light neverland, i’m imagining that classic moment where there is a little pirate incident, you get separated from ari and then the lost boys find your passed out form after you crash land.

and then all just stare at you in your sleep, probably studying your unconscious form purely out of curiosity because they haven’t seen a girl in forever

maaaaybe they also in that exploration find some very special spots that don’t mirror their own, but makes you whimper in your sleep and leak against their untrained touch.

maybe when you finally wake up, they beg you to teach them all that you know, quench their curiosity with a little anatomy lesson perhaps?

also…. flying + smut? oh boy…… i mean, the porn practically writes itself… being gangbanged in the clouds? bro, where do i sign up

and now, do you at some point get kidnapped by a dirty, grumpy old pirate? maybe so hehe. maybe the boys gotta come save you. or maybe the pirate turns out to be a little bit too hot himself, oops

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marveldcmistress · 12 days ago

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Doing Time 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Steve kneels between your legs. You quiver as he splays his hands over your thighs, kneading your tender flesh with a growl. He pushes himself back and bends over you, his weight sinking you into the mattress. His lips graze above his fingers, just beneath the trim of your panties, twisted still from his tending.

His nose tickles you as he traces along the outside of your thighs, planting kisses all along your dimpled skin. You twitch and he snarls deep, giving a gentle nip. You spread your hands over the blanket and tense as he creeps closer to his prize.

His breath dampens your skin and the thin lace, adding warmth to the slickness already there.

He nuzzles the panties and drags his finger along the seam. He hooks beneath and tugs them aside. He startles you with the swipe of his tongue. You squeak and dig your heels into the bed. Your stomach coils in on itself and your core thrums with a new heat. You look down at his blonde head, the silver streaks falling forward and tickling your pelvis. You moan as he spreads his tongue wide and tastes you completely. He pulls his tongue up and flicks your clit with the tip. You whine again.

You bend your legs as your muscles draw tight and you arch your back as he delves into you heedlessly. He groans and growls as he drinks you up shamelessly. Speckles of fire and ice spread over your thighs and up to your neck. You gasp as your breath shallows as the waves curl inside of you.

He rocks his head and you clutch at the blanket. Your eyes roll back and tendrils wind around your chest and throat. You spasm and cum, heaving as the tides crash upon you in sheer ecstasy, washing away the layers of fear.

He massages your thighs as he keeps going, pushing your legs wide. He devours you, smearing your delight all over his nose and chin. He fuels you to another climax, even more striking than the last, your legs twitching, your toes curling.

You reach down to tug on his hair as his tongue swirls and swirls.

"Please, please," you beg, "please-- Steve."

He chuckles into you, a rumble that rolls through your guts. He gives one last swipe of his tongue and lifts his head. He looks up at you as your lashes flick open. Your head bobbles as you lift it to meet his gaze. His lips are shiny with your cum.

He sits up on his knees, his boxers bulging as his chest flexes, his thick middle tautening. He moves closer and bends over you, holding himself above you on his elbows. You smell the sweetness on his breath as he sighs.

"Say it," he snarls.

You exhale and flutter your lashes.

"Say you want me, baby." Your walls clench and your stomach ripples. You moan. He brings a hand to your chin and frames your face with his large hand. "Baby."

"I--" you wisp. "I... want you."

"Yeah?" He purrs.

You nod into his hand. Maybe not, but you need him. In this state, you just need more.

He pushes off of you. He hooks his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and raises himself he shoves them down, untangling himself as the bed bounces with his effort. He settles back down and grips your hips. His thumbs poke into your flesh and he lifts you just slightly.

He shifts even closer as he drapes your thighs against his. You whimper as he grabs his dick, pumping his thick length as his throat locks up. He grits out a grunt. You can't look away from what's in his hand. He's... big.

He aims his tip along your cunt and spreads your wetness over him. He groans as he does. He inches down to your entrance and pauses. He keeps his other hand on your hip and looks you in the eye.

"You ready, baby?"

Your lips part and you blink. You swallow dryly, "y-yes."

His eyes fall down between your legs and he eases into you. Just his head before he stops. He bites his lip and dips in little by little, stopping with each inch as he feels you adjust to him.

You twitch around him and he slides back. You shiver and slap the bed with a moan. He thrusts back in, deeper than before, and retreats again. He rocks, deliberately, stretching you until you’re squirming, before rearing back. With each plunge, he pushes your limits.

He falls into a rhythm. He grips your hip tight as his other hand crawls up your stomach. He kneads the cushion there and grunt between shallow breaths. His jaw squares as his blue eyes turn smoky.

He drags his hand down your side and along your thigh. He caresses down to your knee then pulls your legs up straight. He leans your foot against his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your ankle, and he kisses it.

He keeps his motion as he purrs. Your brush your hand across the blanket and over your torso. You tremble as your fingertips graze your throat and over your chin. You bite into the heel of your hand and drone.

You puff out as your insides tangle. He trails over your pelvis and wiggles his thumb between your folds. He rolls over your clit and you gasp. You tense up and reach for him.

“Steve,” you squeal.

He chuckles and does it again. You shake and he watches you fall apart. He lets your leg fall away from him and bends over you once more. He smothers your lips with his as he pumps into you. He twists his hand around and plays with you with his middle finger.

You pout into his mouth as he hooks his arm beneath you. His tongue delves into your mouth. He pulls back with long strokes only to glide back in.

You curl your arm around his and latch onto his bicep. You whine as you cum again, the slickness spreading up his pelvis and along your thighs. You clasp the back of his head and keep him there, tilting your hips as you welcome him deeper.

He snarls and tightens his hold around you. He sits up with you against him. Your head spins.

He fucks you from below as you match his pace. You shouldn’t. You know it but there’s something else that drives you on. Something desperate. Something... broken. He makes you feel wanted in a way you never have. Who he is, what he is, doesn’t matter in that moment.

You hang your head back and moan. You cum again as you lean back, hanging onto his shoulders as your hips rock on their own. He growls and flicks his finger around your clit. Your thighs quake until you have no strength left.

Before you can fall, he lays you down. He groans and you bat your lashes dozily. His eyes graze up and down your body. He fixates on your cunt and slowly pulls out. You twitch as he leaves you empty.

He licks his lips and traces up your legs, to your pelvis, then hips, along your stomach, around the curves of your body, fondling your chest, then gently petting your throat. He cradles your head between his large hands as his thumb rubs your cheek.

“I told ya, I'll take care of you.”

He releases you and sits back. He grabs your hip and flips you over. You roll onto your stomach without resistance. His other hand latches around your side and he pulls your ass up. You whimper and rest your cheek against the blanket. Your sweat dampens it, your scent wafting into your lungs.

He pushes his tip between your cheeks and down to your entrance. He slips into you once more. You moan. He bends over your back and loops his arm around your middle. He nestles his chin against your shoulder and sits back with you.

He keeps your thighs splayed over his as he rocks beneath you. The pressure pulses in your core as he reaches to turn your head. He kisses you as he fucks you patiently. His tongue tangles with yours as his other hand flutters down your stomach. Again, he toys with your clit, plucking you to the edge.

He frames your chin as he keeps you locked in. His tempo builds, your flesh clapping noisily as his thrusts reverberate through every part of you. You clutch his wrist and he kisses along your cheek as you babble.

“Yeah, baby, this is what you needed, isn’t it?” He growls.

You moan. You can’t speak.

“I needed this too. Wanted it.” He huffs as his grip tightens. “Dreamt of it...”

He bows his head and pants against your shoulder. His hair falls forward and tickles you. He ruts into you, faster and faster. His deep breaths turn to rocky grunts. He snarls and pushes you forward.

He falls on you, crushing you to the mattress as he fucks you into it. He hammers into you until you’re whining. The bed frame shakes and knocks against the wall furiously.

You feel him spill inside of you. He slows, easing out just to his tip, and plunging back in. The noise it makes sends a chill through you.

He stills as he keeps you trapped against the bed. Your heartbeat calms and your breath comes easier. Your sweaty skin sticks to his. You’re exhausted.

He isn’t. He starts again. Slow at first. His hips moving little by little, building to full strokes. In, out, in, out. You shudder beneath him.

“Baby, I told ya, I’m not getting off you,” he pets your head as he finds his rhythm. “Mm, you’re perfect for me. Built for me.” He growls. “The way you’re clinging to me. I never felt anything like it.”

Your lashes feel heavy as you blink dopily. He kisses your cheek.

“Nah, you don’t do nothing. I got you. You let me do the work,” he purrs. “Nothing you gotta do.” He fucks you steadily but not enough to put himself over. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Goddamn gorgeous--”

You close your eyes as they tinge and your nose tingles. Beneath the pleasure and the adrenaline, is something else. Something you don’t think of. You bend your arm and squeeze his bicep.

“Baby...” he purrs.

“Steve,” you sniffle. “Steve, please--”

“That’s it. Let yourself feel good.”

“Steve,” you croak and the first tear trickles out. You slap his arm. “I-- get off! Please, I--”

You turn your face down to hide the sudden overflow. You fold your arm under your head as your back wracks. He stops and caresses your hair. He hushes you as you try to suck back the sobs.

“I’m sorry--”

He pulls out and forces you onto your back, right onto his arm. He holds you, one hand rubbing your thigh as he cooes.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” He asks.

There’s a lot he’s done that scares you, but this is something else. It’s ridiculous. Pathetic. Why are you even crying.

“Baby, please, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head and stare at his chest, hiding behind your webbed lashes. You wipe your face with the back of your hand.

“It’s nothing, really, I’m just...” you scoff at yourself. “It’s been a while.”

“Me too, baby. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“Yeah, uh...” you flick away tears, frustrated as they keep flowing.

“I’d wait just as long again to be with a woman as beautiful as you--”

“Steve,” you turn your head away.

“What?”

“Stop that,” you hiss.

“Stop what?”

“Lying.”

“Lying? I told ya. I won’t do that.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Calling you... beautiful?”

You nod and stare at the wall. He laughs.

“I gotta tell the truth, baby-”

“It’s not true.” You catch his wrist as he trails up your stomach. “Alright.”

“That’s what making you cry?”

“No-- yes. N--” you sputter. You sniff. “No one ever... said it. It’s not true.”

He shakes you off of him. He brings his hand up to your chin and turns your head. “Look at me.”

You look down.

“Baby, listen to me. Look.”

The stone in his timbre makes you obey. You look into his blue eyes. They winkle as he gazes at you.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I ever seen. You’re the reason I got out. Without you, I woulda gotten ten years for bashing in the next pest who got under my feet.” His thumb rubs along your cheek. “I was good. For you.” He leans in, “cause I need you that bad.”

He presses his lips to yours, stemming all argument and any more tears. You’ll believe his lies. It’ll make this easier.

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marveldcmistress · 16 days ago

Text

Little Surprises 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, cheating/established relationships, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Andy Barber, side of Mike Weiss

Summary: You have a baby on the way but it's not the only surprise.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You inch the door open and wince. You knocked once but no answer came. You’re surprised to find someone within. You rap again with your knuckles, that time on the door frame.

“Excuse me, Mr. Barber,” you say, “you mind?”

He sits up straight. He clears his throat as he forces his shoulders high, resuming his usual rigid posture. He’s of the few attorneys there that acknowledges you. He nods.

“Uh, sure,” he wiggles the mouse and clicks. “Come on in.”

You open the door wider and cross the office to his desk. You pick up the wastebasket beside it, holding back a grunt as your waist band presses tightly beneath your belly. You carry the bin to the cart at the door and dump it. It’s just coffee cups and crumpled paper, a wrapper from an egg wrap. The thought of eggs makes you nauseous.

“Need the break,” he rubs his eyes as you near him again. “Eyes are getting fuzzy.”

“Oh no,” you humour him. You hold the cloth in your hand, “you mind?”

“Go ahead,” he rolls his chair back.

“So sorry, sir, I'm running behind today.” You wipe around his keyboard and mouse. You pause and hover over a wrapper for a protein bar. “All done with this?”

“Um, yeah,” he answers.

You smile and scoop up the wrapper with a crinkle. “No problem.”

Your back spasm and you suck in a sharp breath. You rub between your hips as you retreat. You feel him watching you.

“You... alright?”

“It’s so sweet of you to ask,” you preen as you go back to the cart and toss the wrapper. “I’m just fine.”

You go to the book shelf and clean around the awards, the decorative gavel, and statue of Lady Justice. You feel him watching still. A few people have noticed despite you borrowing Mike’s shirts. Even those are starting to cling.

“You’re... expecting,” he guesses correctly.

You drag the cloth over a shelf, “I am.”

“I’m sorry if that’s...”

“Nah, it’s okay. I just don’t like anyone fussing over me,” you assure him. “All tidy, isn’t it?”

You step back and admire your work. The wheels of his chair roll over the mat.

“Why don’t you sit? Take a load off?” He offers.

You face him and smile. He’s so nice. He spends all that time working and he’s still worried about you. You’re just the cleaner. You know well how stressful law work can be. You barely see your boyfriend with him running around the public courts.

“Really, Mr. Barber, I still got the rest of the floor to do.”

“I remember when Laurie was expecting,” he says. “She was exhausted all the time.”

“I can manage. I’m not too far. Three months is all.”

“You really shouldn’t be doing so much,” he keeps his hand on the chair. “Not in your condition.”

“My doctor says it’s good,” you argue. “I really appreciate you worrying for me, but I’m fine. Really.”

He looks at you. The same way Mike does. They reflect each other in certain ways. They’re always so serious. They don’t like to be told no and they win most arguments. It’s probably why they do what they do.

“Well,” he sighs, his hand going to his hip. That posture defines him. It underlines his age. At least ten years older than Mike, who’s got a couple on you himself. “If you need somewhere to sit down, you come back here.”

“Oh, Mr. Barber,” you smile. “That’s so kind.”

You back to the door and tuck the dust cloth away. You get behind the cart as he follows. “Should you be pushing that around?”

“It’s not much,” you roll it back and forth. “Paper and sponges.”

He nods, his lips thinned in disapproval. That’s why you don’t tell anyone. They treat you different. And Mike doesn’t want his family to know yet. He says his mom will want you to marry first but he hasn’t even asked yet.

“You should be on accommodated duty. You know, I dealt with a few labour cases?” He insists.

“Mr. Barber,” you chide softly. “You got enough to worry about.”

You roll the cart away, down to Mr. Logiudice’s door. It’s already opens. He greets you with a flick of his fingers as he holds his phone to his ear. You clean quietly, certain not to disturb his call.

As you leave, Mr. Barber is still by his door. He stares at you for a moment before he retreats into his office. You hope you didn’t bother him too much.

You finish up your rounds and dump the bag in the dumpster. You stay outside for your break, sitting at the picnic table near the corner of the building. You drink water and chew on crackers. The baby is picky. Your breakfast ended up in the sink.

“Ahem,” the deep noise draws your eyes up as you stare at your phone. Mike’s busy. Not answering.

“Oh, Mr. Barber.” You blink at the attorney in his grey jacket.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks.

You look down at your long-sleeved shirt.

“Baby’s got me running hot,” you shrug.

“Hmm, I just ran out to the coffee place,” he points over his shoulder. “Slow day.”

“It’s not so bad,” you look up at the grey clouds.

“They had a special. Muffin and coffee for three bucks,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white bag stamped with the cafe logo. “I just needed the caffeine.”

He has a cup in his other hand as he sets the bag on the table close to you. You look at it, then him. You find his eyes on your phone. You peer down and find your conversation with Mike still open. Still no reply.

“Thanks, uh,” you pull the bag closer. “I’ll save it for after work.” Odds are, you’ll give it to Mike. The smell of cinnamon is already sickening.

He gives another flat hum. His blue eyes search you. “Too early? You don’t know if it’s a girl or boy?”

You shake your head, “not yet. Don’t think I’ll ask.”

“Oh,” he clucks. “Laurie had to know. Had the nursery done two months early.”

“A lot to figure out,” you agree and stand, gathering up your phone and snack. “Gotta get back to it so I can buy the baby a crib, huh?”

He’s quiet. He walks with you back to the building. You feel him glancing at you repeatedly. He opens the door for you and you thank him.

“Least I can do,” he says.

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marveldcmistress · 16 days ago

Text

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: Ransom has a lot of explaining to do.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Angst, Memories of emotional abuse, Self-esteem issues, Talk of smoking. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Following your lead, Ransom clocks out early to go home and think. He's not going to try talking to you just yet. Something he learned from you is to give a person time and space before trying to explain or rationalize anything. Part of him misses the days when he was so unfeeling he wouldn't worry about you. When he could just throw your gifts in the trash and cut his losses. But he could never go back to that life. And it really is all because of you.

He'd been struggling for so long. Struggling to break his old habits, to break the yoke of his family's influence. But then you showed up and gave him the help he didn't know he needed. Things he didn't even know how to ask about. And now he's hurt you, pushed you away.

Should he come clean? Tell you about the salacious dreams he's been having about you? Should he lie? Should he tell partial truth? That he was trying to get back into dating and didn't want to worry you about it?

"Fuck!" he shouts out to his apartment. He can't think straight. He needs to talk this out but he can't talk to you, the person who helps him the most! Looking around the apartment he grabs the Sweater Pusheen and holds it out at arms length. "This is probably stupid, but I need to talk out loud and I need someone, something to talk to. And right now that's you."

Ransom sets the Pusheen on the couch as he gets up and starts pacing the living room.

"The first thing to do is apologize, right? I know what I did was wrong, knew it as I was doing it. So definitely start with an apology, right?"

He looks to the Pusheen, unsure if he's expecting some kind of reaction from the plushie.

"Right. Maybe the first thing would actually be to admit I'm an idiot," he muses. "No, no. Apologize first. Because if I start with explanations, even 'I'm an idiot' it's going to sound like I'm just trying to justify hurting her and that'll upset her more."

He stops pacing and starts gently chewing on his sweater sleeve, a habit he'd never been able to fully break from, much to his parents' chagrin. They'd sent him to a specialist who said the problem was stress to which his parents rolled their eyes.

"How can a 5 year old be stressed?" Linda griped. "No responsibilities, no cares, tons of free time." "Clearly he just needs to either grow up, so he knows what real stress is, or face the fact that he's creating his own stress," Richard concurred.

Ransom shudders from the memory of getting bopped every time he'd go to chew on his clothes. He started stealing Linda's cigarettes when he was 12 because clearly smoking was an okay stress response. He got caught when he was 15 and got a harsh lesson on not stealing from his parents and a whole lecture about "rules for thee, not for me." He sometimes still had a craving for a cigarette, all these years later.

"Fuck," he grouses. Looking back at the Pusheen he asks, "why do the memories always show up when I don't want them?"

He knows the answer. It's one you told him. Because when you're stressed your brain tries to revert back to what it needed to do for survival. That includes reminding you what you survived before so you can remember the lessons learned.

He drops onto the couch, his head in his hands as he tries to do the panic breathing he'd learned. He can't afford a panic attack right now. He needs to think. He grabs the plushie and squeezes it as he continues the breathing exercises.

When his head feels clearer he sets Pusheen back on the couch and starts pacing again.

"Okay, so definitely apology first. But do I apologize in person? Over text? Via proxy?"

Pusheen remains passive, offering nothing.

"Maybe I should talk to someone else first," he grumbles.

Pulling out his phone, Ransom considers his options. You're the one he wants to call but doesn't dare try that right now. But the more he delays, the more hurt you might feel. But too soon and you might hate him more. Looking at the Pusheen he asks, "why are emotions so difficult?"

Looking for a distraction, Ransom looks at the gift you were going to give him before you learned the truth. You could have taken it with you but instead you gave it to Jake. You didn't withhold the gift even though he doesn't deserve it, whatever it is.

Unwrapping the small box reveals a toy BMW. A replica of the car whose photograph still adorned his work desk. A reminder of what he sacrificed to get out.

Without thinking, he texts you, "I'm sorry," before curling up onto the couch and crying.

Laying in bed, squeezing the pink pony plushie Ransom had gotten you for Christmas, your phone dings. It's the notification sound you have for Ransom and it makes you flinch. You're sure he's got good reason to lie to you, he's never been anything but honest before. But you're still hurt. You want explanations but you need to let yourself finish crying first.

It's been over an hour and Ransom still hasn't heard back from you. He's devastated, almost catatonic from despair. He's aware enough to know he needs help so he finds his phone and messages Jake a simple "I need help".

Jake's response is almost immediate. "Do you need me to stop by? Just chat? A phone call? Or do you want to come over?"

Ransom looks around at his apartment, decorated with your touch. It hurts to be here right now. "I can come over? Sunshine won't mind?"

"She's good about it, especially for emergencies like you and Bubbles are going through right now."

"I can't stay in my apartment right now."

"Okay. Come on over."

When he gets to the apartment, Ransom is greeted by the now familiar sounds of the twins at play. He's been here often enough for D&D that he knows the drill. He knocks, the twins get picked up by Jake to keep them from running out the door, and Sunshine lets him in. The familiarity almost makes him smile.

He gets inside and sits on the couch, his usual spot before and after D&D sessions. Luke immediately comes over to him, smiling big. But as he gets closer, Luke's smile drops and he looks concerned. He runs to grab Leia and says something in their toddler twin language no one else knows. Leia gets serious and both twins run over to their stuffed animal collections and bring Ransom as many of them as their little arms can carry.

Ransom tears up at their kindness. "Even they can tell I'm in rough shape."

"They're good kids," Sunshine comments softly. "So what's been going on? Jake told me as much as he knows."

Ransom accepts the proffered plushies and starts to explain, being careful of his wording in front of the little ones. Jake and Sunshine listen and even the twins gently offer reassurances in the form of patting his legs.

Ransom feels a pang of sadness for upsetting such a good, happy, contented family with his troubles but he needs the help. And who better than the people who are so giving of the kind of love he's always wanted?

"And she still hasn't messaged back?" Jake asks.

When Ransom nods, Sunshine adds, "she likely needs time. But you said you sent the apology text already?"

"I sent an apology text," Ransom explains.

"Okay, then that's a good start," Sunshine nods. "You're going to stay here with us tonight so we can be here for you, okay?"

"That's too much!" Ransom tries to argue.

Jake intervenes, "no it isn't. You're not the kind of person to reach out for help, right?" Ransom gives a small nod of confirmation. "Yet you still asked for it from us. That tells us you're in a lot of pain right now. You're seriously hurt. It's like when your character is hit by a couple levels of exhaustion, the rest of the team is there to take up the slack. We're here for you."

"Besides, I'm currently baking a cheesecake with biscoff cookie crust that I want you to try out," Sunshine adds.

"You what?"

She shrugs. "I've been wanting to make it for a while so when Jake told me what was going on, I figured it'd be a nice time to try it out. I got it in the oven just as you got here. And since you likely haven't eaten much today, I'll be cooking a bit extra for dinner so you can join us."

Ransom lets the tears drop, the kindness is overwhelming. He covers his eyes and the twins hug his legs while Jake and Sunshine sit next to him and hug him.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82; @thiquefunlover63

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marveldcmistress · 16 days ago

Text

Just for You

Summary: When moving from Steve fails because of proximity, you decide to make some changes in your life.

Follow up to Unrequited.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Angst. Please let me know if I missed any.

You settled in to your new office. After trying and failing to get over your crush on Steve, you asked for a switch in office partners. Barnes and Steve had projects that were more in line with each other so making them office-mates made sense.

"Trying to get rid of me?" Steve teased when you told him about the move.

"Steve, let's be serious here." His smile drops at your tone. "I asked you out, you said you weren't interested and I continued to try to flirt. I refused to take 'no' for an answer. I even went so far as to try to push you into a dance with me but you probably picked up on that so you danced with everyone else."

Steve's nods in memory of that night.

"Since then, I've tried my damnedest to be professional. To kill the crush. But I can't do that if I'm sitting across from you every single day. Yeah, down the hall isn't much better, but it's something."

"If you ever need a friend--"

"I know, Steve. I promise, I know." You put up a fake smile as you finish packing up your things to trade offices with Barnes.

The next month goes by a lot easier for you. There's still some lingering sadness, but that's the norm for being rejected, right? Every time you see Steve is easier than the last. Nothing but nods shared between the two of you.

A departmental meeting is called by the Department Dean. It's in a small board room but the Dean promises it'll be quick so no one gets too claustrophobic.

"We're going to have a guest in the department next week," he announces. "A famous author who's looking to get some historical accuracy for his next book."

There were some murmurings in the crowded room, comments wondering who the author was.

"His family has donated a lot f money to our university, including our department, so I expect everyone to be polite."

The murmurings become grumblings. If the Dean has to warn you like this, you're not sure this author is worth knowing.

He points to you, "the book he's writing is centered in the period of history you're studying so expect him to be around you more than others. I've told him to respect office hours, but we'll see how that goes."

You nod in understanding as the Dean points to a few others who might be visited. You're not looking forward to this.

There's a single knock at your office door before the visitor comes in and sits across from you. He looks vaguely familiar and has the air of someone who's used to doing what he wants.

"You must be the author I was told was visiting," you say with a customer service smile.

He smiles in return, his less forced. "Yup," he replies, making the "p" pop. "Do you know me? Have you read my works?"

"You look familiar, but I can't place you," you admit.

He smirks and removes his sunglasses. "How about now?"

"Oh! Drysdale!" your eyes widen. "You wrote the Clint Barton Series of urban fantasy mystery novels!"

"You're a fan," he says with a wink. "I think I'm going to like working with you."

"We'll see," you chuckle. "I do have classes to teach, papers to grade and research of my own to do so, going forward, would it be possible to schedule meetings instead of having you drop in unannounced?"

"I prefer to come and go as I please," he purrs. "But I suppose I can make an exception. Just for you." He winks and heat rushes to your face.

As the semester continues Ransom ends up spending more and more time with you, in and out of your office. Sure, he could put on airs and act like an ass, but he was never like that towards you. He even pulled back on his asshole nature when he saw how it could upset you. He kept his mouth shut when your students showed up asking for extensions because they "forgot there was even a paper assigned." Instead he'd joke about it with you afterwards.

It was Ransom's idea to continue your discussion at a restaurant off campus. You were legitimately enjoying talking with him so you agreed. He even offered to drive you there in his BMW that you were scared to touch in case you somehow damaged it.

On the way you asked, "do you always take fans out to dinner?"

Ransom smirks, "I'm making an exception. Just for you."

"I'm honored," you smile as you look away nervously.

"Did you let your boyfriend know where we're going?"

"Oh, I'm not seeing anyone," you're quick to correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. "How the hell are you single? Too busy with work and school or something?"

You shrug. "It just...didn't work out. He wasn't interested."

Ransom scoffs and shakes his head. "Then he's an idiot."

"Or I'm just not his type. I have to accept that."

"No you don't," Ransom counters. "You are allowed to be super petty. You're gorgeous, intelligent and a good person. How is that not someone's type? Is he some bitch boy who needs to be the smart one in the relationship? I'll bet he's an asshole and you're better off."

"He's a good guy," you argue. "Maybe he's gay? Maybe he prefers someone with different interests? It doesn't matter because he's not interested and I've been working hard to move on."

"So you got yourself a rebound? Nice."

"What? No! I'm not that kind of person." You cross your arms, suddenly wondering if this dinner was a good idea.

"That's fair," he backs down. "Though I still maintain you should let yourself be at least a little petty if you interact with him again."

A small smile forms on your face. "I did let myself get more pedantic when he asked for help with his thesis."

Ransom smirks, "very nice."

After that first dinner, Ransom started offering to take you out more often claiming he enjoyed the conversation. You can't deny that you enjoy it as well. Ransom has the ability to make you feel like you're the most important person in the room. At first it made you feel shy, having someone so focused on you. But as you continued to meet for his book, as you continued the conversations outside of your office, you became more and more comfortable around him.

For his part, Ransom continued to soften when he was around you. And only you. When it was just the two of you, he was able to drop the mask of haughtiness and disinterest completely. Even if someone interrupted, he wasn't as mean about it as he once had been.

And then there were the gifts. The end of the semester brought with it final exams for yourself and your students. Ransom promised he was okay with not meeting up for a bit, that he'd use this as time to focus on writing, "using all of the lessons learned from our talks." And while he didn't show up to your office, there were regular food deliveries with a note from him reminding you to take care of yourself. He also bought your department a couple electric kettles so you wouldn't have to microwave water to make your tea as well as a keurig machine. The Dean had made sure to pull you aside to thank you for all the time you put in with Ransom.

But it's not like it was all that difficult for you. Once you worked past his icy, better-than-you exterior, he was actually pretty pleasant to be around. During the time apart, when you'd message him to thank him for the food, you'd sometimes get up the courage to say you missed chatting with him. He really knew how to make you feel special, listened to, appreciated. You didn't realize how much you needed that. And it really helped when you felt like you were drowning in papers to read, grade, research and write!

When things finally died down enough to meet again, Ransom apparently dropped everything so he could visit you. You messaged him that your schedule was now more open and after only an hour he was knocking on your door.

"You look exhausted," he states. "How about a spa treatment? On me."

You chuckle as your face heats up, "that does sound lovely but I've still got things to do. How have you been?"

"Honestly? Miserable." Your eyes soften in sympathy and concern. "I've missed you, too. And, at the risk of making an idiot of myself, I'd like to be more than work partners, more than friends."

"I'd love to date you, Ransom," you state.

"But?"

"But what?" you shake your head, confused. "I really enjoy your company. You're good to me. You make me feel like I matter. There's no 'but' here."

Ransom's expression switches to one of relief as his shoulders relax. "I can't tell you how good it is to hear that."

He closes the space between you, puts a hand behind your head and brings you in for a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and eagerly return his affection.

There's a knock and a polite cough at the door, making you break the kiss, irritation written all over your face and Ransom's at the interruption.

"What?"

In the doorway stands Steve, holding a flyer. Taken aback at the attitude he backs up a step. "Um...I just...There's another themed dance to celebrate the end of the school year. Just thought...maybe you'd want to know about it."

He hands you the flyer and quickly walks out.

"You like dancing?" Ransom asks, glancing at the flyer.

"I did," you pout.

"What happened?"

With a sigh you tell Ransom the story of the New Year's Eve disaster. He coos, reassures, and comforts as you recount your pain and embarrassment, finally pulling you in for a hug as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

When you finish the story, Ransom pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. "You remember what I said about your right to be petty?"

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna get you that spa treatment, a brand new dress, just for the dance, and I'll make sure you don't have to worry about sitting out for any dance because I'll be on your arm all night. He's gonna realize what he could have had and you're going to feel good about yourself, as you deserve."

"You dance?"

"Not really," he admits. "But I'll make an exception. Just for you."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

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marveldcmistress · 17 days ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Part of the 20s Challenge and The Neighbourhood AU

A/N: I'm forewarning you all that this is a smut festival because I've managed to scare myself with this lmao 💀

Pairings: Alpha!f!reader x Omega!Ransom Drysdale, eventual x Alpha!Lloyd Hansen too 😌

Trope: A/B/O

Quote: "What time do you call this?"

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through AI. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk.

Word count: 7.5k

Tags/warnings: A/B/O dynamics, SMUT, also ANGST bc i can, jealous!Ransom, little shit!Lloyd, accusations of cheating (but no cheating), p-in-v (wrap), creampie, threesome (MMF), oral (f and m recieving), dry humping, insecure Ran, bratty Ransom bc... yeah, subby Ran, dub-con, light bondage, nipple play, threeway-kissing, this is pure filth just so ya know

Summary: When an old friend and potential business partner comes to visit, your omega absolutely despises him. Things come to a head one night and Ransom leaves without warning but thankfully Lloyd lends a helping hand.

Slightly inspired by @stargazingfangirl18 's Bratty Beta (bc it's Ransom, duh) - but I've been dwelling on some ideas with Lloyd for a while. (It was either gonna be one with Jake or Ransom but .... the others are hidden in drafts somewhere.

Please note that all of the Readers in this universe have nicknames to differentiate them! This one is Cookie 🍪

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

20s Challenge | Masterlist | Neighbourhood AU Masterlist

Ransom Drysdale was nothing short of an interesting omega.

You had met at the beginning of the scent trials, matched almost by happenstance, and had been the first couple other than the Levinson's to move into the neighbourhood.

Upon your first meeting, long before your home in the neighbourhood had reached completion, you found Ransom to be haughty and smug and had almost quit the programme because of his inability to play nice.

But then you met his family.

Ransom was bristly and bratty, putting on his mask of arrogance and superiority trying desperately to stay afloat amongst the vicious, often snide remarks hidden as compliments, from his family that were determined to drown him.

It only took ten minutes in his family home for you to snap and another ten for you to command Ransom to pack his things and come with you. You made it clear that no one, not even your omega's family, were to treat him badly.

Ransom had pouted and put up a good front of pretending to be offended for the first two hours in your apartment before sulking his way next to you in you bed. You had allowed him to cuddle up to you and silently raked your fingers through his soft hair; marking the first of many nights together.

When you'd moved into your home in the neighbourhood months later, you and your omega had become inseparable; you the patient alpha and Ransom your snobbish (but sweet) omega.

That first night in the neighbourhood marked the first of many days together as a bonded pair.

Two months later

"Ran honey," you call out for your omega, closing the front door behind you and kicking off your heels. You wished you didn't make the commitment to wear heels into the office, even if it made you look slightly more intimidating and a lot more sexy. "I'm home."

Ransom was already plating up food in the kitchen and when you follow the delectable smell to his right-hand side, you smother him with kisses. Ransom chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly, breathing you in.

"Food's done." He murmurs into your shoulder.

"I know, I can smell it." You mumble from the wool of his sweater. "I'm starved."

Dinner was demolished in record time. Both you had Ransom had idly chattered about your days, and after dishes were done, you brought Ransom in some ice cream as you hunkered down to watch your newest guilty pleasure.

You had your spoon halfway to your mouth when Ransom suddenly asked,

"Do you think there's anyone else?"

You sputter over your spoon and look at him with a raised brow. "Anyone else?"

"Like a, um, another omega? Or a beta I guess..." He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant but his face flushes pink. "I don't know. For us?"

You furrow your brows at him. "You mean another pack member?"

"Yeah."

You shrug, looking at the TV. "Who knows. I've not been contacted by anyone for another match. I guess it's possible."

Ransom grumbles lowly making you whip your head around. You can feel your stomach twist as anger reverberates through your bond.

"Ransom, you're jealous of someone who probably doesn't even exist." You sigh.

"'M not jealous." He argues back and you roll your eyes.

"Sure, hon." There's a beat of silence before you're putting your ice cream down with an excited flap of your hands. "Oh, I forgot to tell you!"

Ransom gives you a curious glance, picking up the ice cream to take a spoonful for himself. "What?"

"Lloyd is coming to visit." You squeal happily.

"Lloyd?" Ransom frowns, looking over at you with a sceptical sideways glance. "I don't remember you mentioning a Lloyd."

"Yes, you do." You continue casually, waving a hand dismissively. "I may have a contract with his business and I've known Lloyd since college." You can feel the unease emanating from him and give him a pleading look. "It would only be for a few days, a week max."

Ransom harrumphs when you snuggle next to him, stealing the spoon back with a smile.

"It's a big opportunity for me." You tell him sincerely. "It's just a few days, hon. If I get this job offer I could buy you one hundred sweaters."

"I'd do anything for you." Ransom murmurs looking at you with such sincerity you feel your skin begin to heat. "If it's important to you, it's important to me. I don't need one hundred sweaters to be convinced."

"Hm." You chuckle, pressing your icy lips against his. You can feel him smile just as you pull back. "Maybe you deserve one or two."

Meeting Lloyd went about as well as you'd expected. Ransom seethed behind you the entire time as you showed Lloyd around your home the following week.

"Did the place come with a free ghost?" Lloyd had stage-whispered to you with a jerk of his head in Ransom's direction.

You can feel Ransom bristle through your bond as you stifle a laugh. You'd managed to get Ransom to promise to try and be polite to Lloyd the night before, even if his politeness hinged on curt responses.

"Ransom's just not used to having another person around the house." You tell Lloyd, giving him a warning don't-stress-my-omega look that he promptly ignores.

"You mean another alpha." Lloyd says pointedly, eyes brushing over Ransom who's arms are folded tightly over his chest as he glowers at Lloyd. "You know, if the wind blows in a different direction your face may get stuck like that."

You cut Ransom off before he responds. "So, Lloyd, what do you think? Think you might join the program?"

Lloyd shrugs noncommittally. "Houses are nice, I suppose. But I just can't see myself moving to this tiny little town to settle with just anyone."

"Have someone in mind?" You tease and Lloyd fixes you with a smirk.

"Perhaps." Lloyd replies playfully. "We can talk shop over lunch tomorrow and you can show me that portfolio you've been working on."

Ransom goes to clear his throat but the bond signals your excitement to talk about your project; something that you have worked on so diligently for months and it's finally coming into motion.

And the only thing keeping Lloyd in his home.

Ransom closes his mouth and continues to hover, listening to you talk animatedly about figures and stats and many other boring things he doesn't understand.

"Cookie, you're gonna give me spoilers." Lloyd whines dramatically. "Come on, at least let me pretend to consider your portfolio for twenty-four hours."

You snort. "You wouldn't accept just because it's me. That's bad business practice."

"Would too." Lloyd winks at you and your cheeks grow warm. You'd forgotten how charming he could be when he wanted to be. "Plus, I know how good you are at your job. I don't need to see the figures to know that it would be a good investment. But walk me through it tomorrow anyway."

This time Ransom does clear his throat and he tries not to shrink under two pairs of alpha eyes. He tugs nervously at the cuff of his cardigan sleeve as he speaks. "What... do we want to eat tonight?"

Your shoulder relax slightly with relief but Lloyd's gaze remains focused on Ransom, almost as if he's sizing him up. For what, Ransom has no clue, but it makes him want to squirm and snap at him. The only reason he doesn't is because he knows this means a lot to you and that he can get his own back later this evening.

"Uh, perhaps some take out?" You suggest, looking over at Lloyd, who's finally stopped giving Ransom the once over and beams at you. "They have some really good places in town."

"Sounds like a plan."

After deciding on where to eat (which took far too long than you would have liked) you and Lloyd were pre-occupied with playing catch-up. You'd discovered many of your old friends and colleagues had either settled or had their lives turned upside down by the new initiative and, when Ransom wasn't paying attention, shared familiar glances that spoke a thousand unsaid things.

When you took a break to grab a glass of water, you weren't surprised that Ransom had followed behind you, looking like he'd rather be kicking dirt than spend another second with you and Lloyd.

"I don't like him." Ransom grumbles. "When is he leaving again?"

"Ran," you sigh softly. "He's my friend, firstly. Secondly, a potential business partner and thirdly, you aren't making it easy for him either."

"So you're siding with him?" Ransom snaps and you puff air at him.

"Shush. You've not given Lloyd a chance and what part of old friend eludes you? You're acting like he's competition."

Ransom stiffens at the call-out, before letting his head fall to your shoulder with a sigh. You wrap your arms around him, under his cardigan and shirt against his warm skin, squeezing him reassuringly. Ransom is almost doubled over you, leaning into your touch and nuzzling against your neck to inhale your comforting scent.

"I know. I'm sorry." He breathes. "I don't know what's come over me."

"It's alright, sweets." You murmur back, running your hands up and down his back. "You're not used to sharing my company or having another person around the house."

You nip at his neck teasingly to make him shiver and his breath hitch; gaining you his full attention. "But you need to remember that you're my 'mega."

"And she's your alpha." Lloyd's voice echoes off the kitchen tiles as he leans against the kitchen entryway, taking a loud, almost obnoxious bite from an apple. "And you both love each other very much. It's cute. But I'm more interested in when food's gonna arrive."

Ransom is immediately in a foul mood again, his face flushed with embarrassment as he glares at the intruder who ruined a perfectly good Moment™️ between him and his alpha whereas you sigh with the weight of past experience.

This was going to be a long week.

That night, after saying your goodnight's and see-you-in-the-morning's,

Ransom snuggled close, slowly inching his way down your tired body, leaving light kisses in his wake.

"Ran," you sigh softly, fingers in his hair meekly tugging him back. "Not tonight, 'm tired darling."

His nose nudged at your clit behind your silky panties. A damp patch had already formed and Ransom smirked up at you, blue eyes blazing with determination.

"All you have to do is lie back and let me eat." He says seductively, brushing his nose and then his lips against your now-aching clit. "You just relax. Let me take care of you."

And take care of you he did.

Ransom had always been good with his mouth, whether it had been used for his sassy quips or pouty tantrums, but your favourite thing his mouth did was suck and lap at your cunt like he'd never tasted anything so delicious in his life.

Tonight was no exception, however, with Lloyd situated just across the hall your whimpers and moans were significantly quieter as not to disturb your guest. Ransom seemed to realise this and his anger bubbled, doubling down and eating you with a wild fervour that made you arch into his mouth.

"R-Ransom!" It's a stage-whispered plea, quickly turned into a strangled moan when Ransom fills your soaking cunt with two fingers, curling them in the ways he knows you love. You choke on your own spit trying to warn him about your orgasm and call his name a little louder.

But it's not enough.

Not for Ransom.

He coaxes you through your orgasm, his motions slowing enough that you're not too overworked but kept at a pleasurable high. When you sigh, Ransom knows it's his signal to go again. This time he's slower, more precise. He needs you to lose it. To scream his name and let that bastard across the hall know that you're his alpha and he knows exactly how to make you happy.

Ransom licks a long stripe up from your cunt to your clit before zeroing in on your sensitive bundle of nerves, fingers slowly picking up pace. You claw at him wordlessly as you writhe but Ransom doesn't care. He just needs you to call his name.

And call it you do.

"Ransom!" You half-shout, trying to smother your cries with your free hand. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck..."

You're panting hard and when Ransom peeks up at you with a satisfied grin. Your face is red and covered in sweat but you look entirely blissed out and relaxed, your scent lingers in the room and Ransom moves up over your body to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. This is what he likes. The smell of you surrounding him like a soft blanket on a cold night.

His cock presses uncomfortably into your stomach. Ransom wouldn't fuck you without permission, he was a good omega most of the time, but you were too bone-tired to roll on top of him. Especially after the head you just received.

Instead, you wrap your arms around him and murmur praises to him; how well he took care of you, how much you loved him, that he was a good boy and that was all Ransom needed to roll his hips against yours with a whine.

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, holding you close as he pants into your neck just above the bond mark he'd made months ago, canting his hips against your wet skin for friction. He always felt the rush of shame doing this - humping you like an animal - but he loved it. Loved how you praised him, teased him a little and then when he came, cooed and cared for him like he was your most prized possession. He was spoiled. He knew that.

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

The following morning, you wake up Ransom with tender kisses. He bemoans the fact it's so early, probably, and tries to latch onto you to keep you close.

"Come on, honey." You purr, nudging his cheek with your nose. "I want to shower together before Lloyd and I get to work."

Ransom frowns at the mention of Lloyd but concedes, practically pushing you out the bedroom door himself. You're giggling at his excitement by the prospect of an early morning shower romp before you head off for the day.

It's not until you get to the bathroom that you catch the wisps of steam under the door or the scent of minty soap. Before you can even turn back to your bedroom, Lloyd appears in the doorway stark naked, towelling his hair.

"Jesus, Lloyd." You half snort and Ransom's hands cover your eyes. Ransom glowers at Lloyd openly, knowing you can't see it. "Not what I wanted to see first thing in the morning."

"But you're not complaining about what you saw." Lloyd flings the towel over his arm and smirks at Ransom. "Besides, it's tit-for-tat. I heard you two last night."

Ransom looks smug but he can feel your face heat behind his hands.

"Sorry Lloyd." You say sheepishly.

"It's alright, sweet cheeks." Lloyd chuckles, throwing Ransom a snarky smile. "If I were Ranny, I'd be the same."

"At least you know she's in capable hands." Ransom sneers, earning a gasped Ransom! from you and an eyebrow quirk from Lloyd.

"I think you mean, at least I know that her omega can be useful."

Through your bond you can feel Ransom bristle with anger and you step in quickly before there's any bloodshed.

"Okay boys. Cool it." You sigh. "I would like one morning of quiet before we get to work. Ransom, get in the shower."

You half shove Ransom into the bathroom with a quick chide of "be nice" - your amorous mood soured. Ransom was so grumpy about the whole interaction you couldn't tell what was steam from the shower or steam from his ears.

The next three days were nightmarish for Ransom.

Lloyd had seemed to only have packed the tightest of pants and shirts that showed off his physique and to make it worse Ransom had caught you checking him out more than once. God only knew what you were like at work.

Ransom, who spent his days tending to the household, was forced to sit with his imagination until you came home smelling like Lloyd and laughing along with him at something arguably not-funny he'd said. Lloyd's scent was bitter, or at least that's what Ransom told himself, after smelling it on you on the first day. Your usually calming chamomile scent had been tainted and Ransom struggled to hide the way his nose scrunched when all he wanted was to smell you.

The second day, when he'd wrapped you in a tight hug to welcome you home, you'd inched out the way and brushed him off as Lloyd entered behind you with a smirk, still talking about some study you'd reviewed for your project. Alarm bells sounded in Ransom's mind. You'd never brushed off a hug and it made him feel... unwanted. Having Lloyd around with his stupid chiselled muscles and idiotic moustache and ridiculously tight clothes made Ransom feel entirely inadequate as well - how could he compete with an alpha anyhow?

By day three, Ransom's unspoken worries came to a head when you'd asked him for five minutes with Lloyd alone to discuss an important aspect of the project after work. Ransom had huffed and sulked for about an hour, negative thoughts that ranged from self-deprecating to downright absurd, swirling in his head.

When he treads down the stairs he stops when he hears his name being spoken in a hushed tone.

"What about Ransom?"

It's your voice.

"What about Ransom?" Lloyd retorts making Ransom frown.

"He's not... taking it well." Your voice is soft, bordering on placid. "Lloyd, this could back-fire so badly-"

"He'll adjust." Lloyd puffs.

"He won't." There's a beat and then in a firmer tone you add, "And I won't do that to him. Even if -"

Ransom doesn't hear the rest of what you say as he barrels down the stairs, temper flaring at a record high. He tugs you behind him, getting into Lloyd's face. Despite being similar in height, Lloyd had muscle and years of training, where Ransom had been spoiled fluffy.

"Oh look, man of the hour." Lloyd grins, dangerously unafraid. "We were just talking about you."

The growl that came from Ransom made your temper flare and you grabbed him by the scruff of his sweater, yanking him backwards away from Lloyd, standing in the now-unoccupied space between them.

"Ransom," you snarl. "Behave. What's gotten into you?"

"Your little 'mega seems desperate for some Alpha-on-alpha action." Lloyd sneers at Ransom over your shoulder and your head whips around to Lloyd.

"Same goes for you Lloyd." You snap. "Stop being antagonistic."

Lloyd frowns, sighs, and then shrugs. "Whatever. Keep your dog on a leash, sweetheart."

"Dog?" Ransom guffaws, glaring at Lloyd.

"Ransom." You warn again but Ransom zeroes in, caging you between himself and Lloyd.

"You think because you're an alpha you can have her?" Ransom says lowly. "She's my alpha. I won't let you have her."

"Oooh. I'm so scared." Lloyd taunts, his hands finding you hips and giving them a squeeze. "Like you could stop me. Aren't you curious to see what it looks like? Seeing two alphas fuck each other stupid-"

"Quiet!" You yell. "You're both acting like children."

Both men glance down at you, seeing your red face contorted with a mixture of anger an embarrassment. Ransom, of course, is first to try and placate you; dropping his head to bump yours apologetically, mumbling apologies. But you don't miss how his eyes don't leave Lloyd's, or his small victorious smirk, challenging Lloyd to step out of line.

Lloyd doesn't verbally take up the challenge, but drops his head into the crook of your neck, nose dragging along the skin. Ransom's throat vibrates - an almost growl. He's trying to behave at least.

"'M sorry, gorgeous." Lloyd murmurs, pressing a kiss near the scarred flesh of Ransom's mark. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

You suppress a shiver and take a breath. "Look, it's late. Let's call it a night."

Ransom's eyes narrow at the sight; how you allow Lloyd to do something so personal, so disrespectful to him, and say nothing. You weren't confrontational by any means but you'd happily jumped to his defence and rescued him from his family when he needed you. So why were you allowing this tight-pants-wearing asshole be so... so... assholish?

"You've both fucked before." Ransom says aloud, dawning realisation making festering anger rise like a soda in a bottle that had been shaken far too much. "Have you been together this whole time?"

"What?" You gape at Ransom and Lloyd takes a step back from you, watching Ransom carefully.

"Have you both fucked before?" Ransom snarls, fixing you with a glare so full of ire you think he may combust on the spot. "Answer me."

You sputter an awkward laugh. "I - we - once. Years ago. But Ran, it's not-"

"So he's your ex, not a friend!" Ransom shouts, blinded by rage.

"No - I mean, maybe? I guess?" You look at Lloyd with a panicked, helpless look but Lloyd is still watching Ransom; watching him pace furiously in circles, biting at his nails as angry tears begin to form on his lash line. "I can explain -"

"No!" Ransom points a finger accusingly at you and your heart breaks at his expression; betrayed and broken, like you'd ripped his heart out right in front of him. "You lied to me. You said he was a friend and then you come home smelling like him and - and - and-"

Ransom clasps his mouth shut but you can see from how his lip wobbles he's trying to stop himself from letting a sob escape. "I knew it."

"Ran, nothing happened." You urge desperately, your own tears rolling down your cheeks as you step forward to reach for him. But Ransom steps back out of your reach, looking at you like you're shit on his shoes.

"I don't believe you."

Ransom storms past you and Lloyd, flinging open the door and almost slamming into an omega who's hand was raised ready to knock before pushing past her and down the drive.

"Ransom! Wait!" You call after him and stop in the doorway with Lloyd on your heels, looking at the omega who looks a little lost. You sigh and give her a weary smile. "Are you the new neighbour?"

The omega nods and Lloyd scoffs from behind you.

"Cute." He comments before shuffling out the door. "I'll go get Ranny boy."

"Lloyd-" You sigh as you watch him also ignore you and get into his car, reversing out of the driveway in one fluid motion. You sigh again, and offer the omega and apologetic look. "I'm sorry, you seem to have caught us at a bad time."

"I... it's okay. I'm sorry for..." She stammers awkwardly and you can feel more tears beginning to form. "Do you want to come on and walk with me? I'm trying to find my way around."

You blink at her and crack a smile. "Sure."

You're surprised at how the omega, Sunny, manages to distract you from your current situation. It's a much needed distraction and her occasional beaming smile of radiance infects you too. You text Ransom and Lloyd frequently with no responses, and by the time you're back home Lloyd's car is still void from your driveway.

Sunny texts you within the hour to check on you and keep you company, even if it is via text. You thank your newfound friend multiple times and try to stay strong but your resolve crumbles after ten minutes of being in your house alone. Your house was never empty.

You manage to drag yourself upstairs, burying yourself into Ransom's pillows to inhale his lingering scent and cry yourself to sleep.

You wake up, half-dazed and sluggish, to the sound of your front door clattering open. Throwing away the covers you bolt downstairs, thinking of your angry omega and Lloyd.

"Hello, Cookie-bear." Lloyd says in a sing-song lilt when you skid to a halt. "Sorry we took so long."

You rub your eyes to ensure you're entirely awake because what you're seeing, current situation aside, borders on comical. Lloyd has Ransom's wriggling limbs duct-taped together and clearly his mouth too, because Ransom is attempting to shout obscenities over Lloyd's shoulder.

"Let me guess, you're about to say 'what time do you call this?'" Lloyd continues cheerily. You weren't expecting Lloyd to come home carrying your omega fire-man style, yet, it seemed entirely fitting. Lloyd moves past you and begins to climb the stairs and you balk until you meet Ransom's eyes and follow behind Lloyd.

"Where was he?" You ask worriedly, unsure where to place your hands even though you're desperate to reach for your omega. "Why didn't you call me?"

"He wouldn't have come." Lloyd grunts. "Told you you should have him on a leash."

Lloyd adjusts Ransom on his shoulder at the top of the stairs before making a hurried beeline for your bedroom. He points you at your bed before setting Ransom down none too gently on the floor before you, tugging him to his knees by his hair.

You go to move but Lloyd snaps at you to stay put.

"He's gonna hear it from me this time."

Lloyd crouches in front of Ransom, who glares weakly.

"Look at the stress you've caused her." Lloyd growls. "Look."

Ransom's gaze flickers to you and you can see his shoulders slump as he takes in your puffy eyes and shy form, the way you wring your hands in your lap as you try to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him. Through your bond, he'd been ignoring the sadness he'd made you feel, focusing solely on his anger. But now, he felt nothing but relief and love surging through the bond, making him feel guilty.

Ransom shrinks further into the floor when he catches Lloyd's glare; Lloyd had not only physically overpowered him but had also managed to psychologically overpower him. His gaze was fierce and commanded subservience, a gaze you had never given Ransom in all of your time together. He could see why you'd be attracted to it, why you'd be drawn to him.

"To answer your earlier question," Lloyd growls, turning Ransom's head towards his. "We did fuck. Once."

"Lloyd you don't have to-" Lloyd holds up his free hand to stop you before using it to rip away the duct tape over Ransom's mouth. Ransom bares his teeth but stays quiet.

"But what you missed before your little dramatic exit was that we only fucked because she was in heat and in so much pain that I couldn't stand to watch her suffer." Lloyd takes a long breath before continuing. "And I shouldn't have ever let her out of my sight. But egos and what have you. Now here we are Sweets."

Ransom's anger diffuses and his features soften entirely, glancing behind Lloyd to you. You look small - eyes wide like dinnerplates as if you were hearing this for the first time too but you quickly recover, fixing Lloyd with a frown.

"You are also part of the reason my omega left in the first place." You growl at him and Ransom feels a swell of pride.

Lloyd sighs dramatically but smirks over at you fondly. "And I brought him back. No need for thanks, honeypie." Then he winks. "Little Ranny here has some grovelling to do and I'm going to oversee it."

Lloyd looks back at Ransom, his gaze flitting back to icy. "You're right to think she doesn't deserve you when you treat her this way. You made your alpha soft. She's too good to you, giving in to almost every whim and you repay her in tantrums. Didn't she say how important this project was to her?"

Ransom drops his gaze to the floor. How could this asshole read him like a book? Was it that obvious that he thought you deserved more? Deserved better?

"However," Lloyd continues. "I can see how happy you are together and I heard just how well you can please her. So, I want you to lavish her with attention like a good omega should."

"Lloyd." This time your voice is a half-growl and even though Lloyd meets your gaze with a smile, he nudges Ransom's thigh with his foot and Ransom shuffles forward on his knees.

Ransom peeks between his lashes, looking adoringly forlorn up at you, placing his face against the soft of your thighs. His heart thuds and as he inhales, letting calmness wash over him as he takes in your scent and a little something more. He watches Lloyd lean forward towards your frowning face and place a tender kiss to your forehead.

"He needs to remember he's an omega." Lloyd murmurs and Ransom bites his lip when he feels his cock, already half-hard, twitch against his pants. You'd punished him before but you had a soft dominance that made Ransom eager to please. Lloyd on the other hand, made Ransom want to disobey entirely. But after the events of the last hour, being easily wrangled and captured, Ransom was finding his resolve waning.

"Please let me." Ransom breathes, pressing himself as close to your legs as possible. When both you and Lloyd fix your gazes onto him, he almost cums in his pants. The attention of two alphas was domineering and overpowering all at once, and Ransom can't help but feel like he's spoken out of turn.

Your scent is stronger now, tinged with arousal, and Ransom fights to keep himself still to await your go ahead. The other scent that mingles in the air is familiar and Ransom realises, with a hint of disdain, that it's Lloyd's. The bitter, sour smell has gone and has been replaced with sweet, fragrant blackcurrant.

Lloyd gives Ransom a you-better-keep-grovelling glare and Ransom continues.

"'M sorry." Ransom pleads, placing apologetic kisses along the tops of your thighs, eyes never leaving yours.

"Sorry for what?" Lloyd urges, placing a warm hand on the back of your neck and massaging lightly. You lean into his touch with a sigh, shifting your legs at Ransom's display. You'd never wanted to flaunt your power over him - you never really had to before - but this was another level.

"For..." Ransom swallows both spittle and his pride, the wash of shame going straight to his cock, already straining against his pants. "For being ungrateful. For being a brat."

Lloyd and you share a look of satisfaction and a nod. Lloyd releases his grip on Ransom's hair to to cut him loose before removing his clothes. Ransom's eyes go wide as he watches you do the same. He doesn't know where to look; blue eyes flitting between you and Lloyd, taking in two beautifully crafted bodies that he'd been thinking about nearly all week. His stomach churns nervously, watching Lloyd grin at him before moving behind you on the bed, propping up pillows behind himself. Ransom's breath hitches as you move between Lloyd's legs and for a moment he thinks you're about to make him watch as punishment but instead, you hitch your legs over Lloyd's knees.

"What are you still sat there for?" Lloyd snaps, his hands moving around to play with your breasts. "Come here and make your alpha cum."

Ransom scrambles to his feet, almost tripping onto the bed as he undresses at the same time, positioning himself in the centre of two sets of splayed legs. He doesn't wait for a command from you to lick a long, needy stripe along your cunt.

"Someone's eager." Lloyd teases as you let out a breathy sigh, your head falling onto his shoulder.

Ransom doesn't waste time in making up for the last few hours by lapping and swirling his tongue through your folds and over your clit. Your whines are sweet and loud as he suckles your clit, one hand finding his hair to keep him where you need him but it's not his name you moan. It's Lloyd's.

"Ah, fuck Lloyd." You buck your hips against Ransom's mouth. Ransom flattens his tongue against your cunt to let you grind against him, stealing a glance skyward to see what the other alpha was doing to have you keening.

Lloyd's fingers roll and pluck your nipples playfully as he smirks into your neck, above the unmarked gland. With one hard pinch, you gasp and roll your hips again.

"Forgot how sensitive they were." Lloyd preens, this time placing a kiss to your neck. "Does your 'mega shower them with attention too?"

"He does." You manage out. Ransom's eyes flutter and he groans around your clit, making you jump at the sensation. The sounds of Ransom kissing and sucking your wet pussy reverberate off the walls of the bedroom and you watch with half-lidded stupor as your omega grinds his hips against the mattress.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train; there's no warning, only an explosion of white behind your eyes as you open your mouth in a silent scream and your legs shudder violently over Lloyd's. You're panting hard against Lloyd's chest, his hands still fondling gently enough to make you twitch, and Ransom releases your clit with a wet pop.

Ransom moves up your body, but before he can reach your face Lloyd turns your head towards him and kisses you. Ransom stops dead, stunned for a moment. He'd imagined what it had looked like since day one when you both flirted with eachother playfully. He imagined Lloyd and you fucking when you'd smelled like him coming back from work and in the last few hours when you'd admitted you'd slept together once. But this was nothing like he'd imagined.

It wasn't feral, or gnashing of teeth but tender, caring, understanding. The kind of kisses you offer Ransom.

Ransom rolls his hips against yours, weepy cock brushing your sensitive folds, with a needy whine that makes both you and Lloyd smile. You move first this time; breaking the kiss with Lloyd to kitten-lick your cum from Ransom's lips before kissing him properly. Ransom hums happily as your tongue swipes at his but it's short-lived when he feels the tickle of Lloyd's moustache against his neck leaving a trail of warm kisses that make him shudder.

Then, your mouth is on Ransom's neck while Lloyd takes Ransom's mouth with an assertive kiss. A gasp of surprise leaves Ransom's throat but he instinctively leans into Lloyd, pressing his solid cock against your cunt when you nibble against his bond mark.

Your hand moves between your legs, grasping Ransom's cock and pumping him slowly, hearing the desperate whimpers smothered by Lloyd's mouth. Behind you, Lloyd's cock is equally hard and throbbing against your spine, moving up and down anytime Lloyd shifts to get friction. You nuzzle Ransom's neck and lap at the scarred flesh relishing in the honeyed taste of his skin. The complimentary scents had been frustrating with no outlet, especially since Ransom was adamant about despising Lloyd from the get-go.

"I-I want..." Ransom pants suddenly, causing you to pause to look at him. His face is red and flushed, blue eyes downcast with embarrassment.

"Want what, hon?" You purr, pecking along one side of Ransom's jaw.

"Speak up, Sweets." Lloyd says pecking along the other side of his jaw.

Ransom tenses up, breathing heavier with a surge of arousal sprinting through your bond. The attention of two alphas is almost too much. Almost.

"I want you both to fuck." Ransom finishes with a sigh of delight, as two sets of lips press onto his.

"Whatever the 'mega wants." Lloyd shrugs with a grin and you click your tongue at him before looking at Ransom, studying him carefully.

"Ran," you say softly. "You don't have to-"

"I want to." He interjects, his bright and pleading. "I want to help make you cum."

You blink at Ransom and look over at Lloyd, who after a beat, nuzzles your neck. Memories of long before rush back; the dark of your dorm room, hidden in a nest with Lloyd buried deep inside you murmuring sweet nothings and you squirm between the two men.

Something felt unbelievably right. However, you couldn't tell if the events of the present and past had somehow been done in the wrong order.

Ransom moves back as you move forward, eagerly flipping onto his back to present himself for you and spreading your legs wider for him to place kisses against every soft piece of flesh he can. Your hands stay wrapped around Ransom's cock, tightening when you feel the nudge of Lloyd's thick cock against your cunt and Ransom's hot tongue flattening against your clit.

Lloyd moves slowly, giving you time to adjust around him, throwing Ransom taunting remarks.

"Look how well behaved he is! Your omega's learned to share your cunt like a good boy."

You and Ransom groans in unison; loving Lloyd's crude mean streak in full.

"I told you he was a good boy." You sigh as Lloyd bottoms out, moving your hand up and down Ransom's cock with deep strokes.

"When he wants to be." Lloyd snorts, dragging his cock from you slowly and hissing as your walls clench around him. "I told you he needed some discipline from day one."

When Lloyd's hips set a rhythm, Ransom follows suit, dragging long swipes of his tongue up and down the cut of you and occasionally licking the hardness of Lloyd's cock. You mewl and pant their names into the heat of the room, trying to keep pace around Ransom's cock, but the pleasure is overwhelming.

When you cum, you grip at Ransom's thighs and moan so loudly your voice stammers. You try to focus on pumping Ransom but Lloyd continues to fuck you through your orgasm and with Ransom lapping and sucking your sensitive clit, you're soon cumming for a third time with another whine. Lloyd suddenly pulls out of you entirely, leaving you hollow and desperate. You crane your neck and catch Lloyd looking at Ransom beneath you.

Lloyd smirks down at Ransom tapping his cock against his lips watching the omega, whose gaze is now glassy instead of glaring, stare back at him. Ransom opens his mouth willingly, eagerly, swirling his tongue over Lloyd's cock whilst Lloyd's hands keep you spread and dripping on display.

Lloyd’s cock tastes just like your cunt and Ransom finds himself enjoying it more than he ever expected. In fact, at this revelation, as Lloyd starts to fuck you again, he tilts his head further back and takes Lloyd's sac into his mouth on a forward stroke.

"Ah- fuck oh Jesus Christ." Lloyd sputters before huffing a surprised laugh. "Cookie, your damn 'mega is trying to get me to cum."

"Told you his mouth worked wonders." You chuckle teasingly and Ransom's hips buck upwards into your hand as you spit on his cock.

"Uh huh." Lloyd huffs, taking a fistful of Ransom's hair as he slowly pulls his cock from your cunt again.

Ransom frowns but when he opens his mouth to argue, you begin to pump his spit-covered cock faster and he pants instead, letting Lloyd stuff his mouth full again.

"Where's all that fight gone, huh?" He teases before sighing as Ransom gags on his cock with a pitiful whine, bucking his hips eagerly for attention. You offer a sensual lap of his aching cock before Lloyd plunges into you again, clearly enjoying taking turns using your cunt and Ransom's mouth.

Lloyd thrusts harder into your cunt and your walls clench but it's Ransom who pushes you over the edge; finding your clit and suckling it between moans again.

"That's it, give me another." Lloyd grunts, yanking your hips back to meet his. "Soak my cock and little Ran's face."

"Please," Ransom pants from beneath you, watching for a moment as Lloyd's cock splits you open and you groan. "Please. I want you to cum."

Your heart catches hearing Ransom beg, arching your back a little more to force Lloyd deeper. Ransom's words seem to have an affect on Lloyd too because his thrusts stutter briefly and you can feel his cock twitch, ready to cum.

"How does it feel watching two alphas fuck, sweets?" Lloyd breathes, his thrusts becoming rhythmic and hard once more. You tilt your head forward to lick the tip of Ransom's weepy cock again and he shudders beneath you.

"Answer Lloyd's question." You growl at Ran, who whines a curse in response.

"Fuck. I-it's s-so fucking hot." Ransom laps at your cunt with long, wet stripes, making you whimper and grip Lloyd like a vice.

"Damn right." Lloyd grits out, pumping into you a few more times, pulling out entirely just before you squirt to blow his load onto Ran's face with an obnoxious groan. Ransom makes a surprised gasp but accepts the hot ropes of cum, even going so far as to dart his tongue for a quick taste before cumming himself.

Lloyd's chest heaves and he smirks with smug satisfaction at Ransom. You've half collapsed onto Ransom's thighs, hand and cheek sticky with Ran's spend, trying to catch your breath.

"Thank your alphas." Lloyd commands, sneering as Ransom struggles to catch his breath.

"Th-thank you." Ransom manages, eyes fluttering as Lloyd pats Ransom's head patronisingly and your face appears before him, smiling down proudly.

"You did such a good job." You preen, making a gesture to Lloyd for the night stand and you're handed a pack of wet wipes.

"Shower?" Lloyd asks, looking between you and Ransom.

You nod. "I think so."

Lloyd nods back before leaning over to press a kiss against your lips. Ran watches, blissed out of his mind, but instead of feeling jealousy he feels... happy but his blue eyes still narrow when he gets no attention from either of you.

"Poor little 'mega," Lloyd taunts, standing tall as he looks down at Ransom. "Feeling left out?"

Ransom makes a huffy noise that has you rolling your eyes as Lloyd leans down to peck Ransom's lips. Ransom blinks in surprise and his brain whirrs as Lloyd pads out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom, where the whoosh of running water sounds.

"C'mere, hun." You coo, pressing a cool wet wipe against Ransom's face, wiping away your and Lloyd's cum. Ransom's face is red hot under your touch, reliving the past hour of his life and how he'd loved every second of it. But more questions began to form. Like how come Lloyd's scent smelled so much nicer now?

"Cookie?" Ransom sits up and shuffles closer to you, kissing your shoulder.

Through your bond you can feel his trepidation; his guilt. However, more importantly, you can feel his adoration for you and his acceptance of Lloyd. Finally.

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry about this week." He sighs, the weight of his sins being lifted from his shoulders. "I was a brat - and not in a fun way."

You smile over at him before nuzzling his cheek.

"You're forgiven." You murmur, giving him another quick kiss. "Make sure you thank Lloyd too."

"Is..." Ransom swallows awkwardly, throat suddenly dry. "How long is he still staying for?"

"Why?" You ask curiously, suddenly worried if your bond was sending the wrong signals - if that were even possible.

Ransom looks sheepishly at his sweater on the floor next to Lloyd's shoes and your discarded pyjamas, wiping sweary palms onto his thighs. "I think I'd like him to stay longer."

"Really? You mean that Sweets?" Lloyd's taunting lilt echoes from the doorway, and Ransom stiffens, looking angry as Lloyd saunters back into the room. Lloyd laughs at Ransom's expression, only agitating him more. "Shower's on."

Ransom grumbles and you can already feel a headache coming on as you usher both men into the bathroom. Lloyd hops in first, then you and then Ransom, huddled together in your - thankfully - large shower. The warm water is like a balm; for once there is no bickering between Lloyd and Ransom.

Until Ransom mutters a thank you to Lloyd, who pretends to not hear him to get him to repeat it. You huff softly, hiding a bubbling laugh in the shower stream as both men quip at one another, without any venom this time around.

You shake water from your face and Lloyd's arms wrap around you, his face nuzzling into the side of your neck that was scar-free. Ransom's face comes to the other side of your neck, placing a soft kiss against his bond mark.

Each of your hands cup their faces and pull them to you. No words are uttered into the steam of the shower but there's a cautious feeling of happiness hanging in the air. It would take some getting used to and it would definitely need patience; but somehow, you think your new pack would do just fine in this neighbourhood.

End

A/N:.... this became so much longer than I anticipated. Sorry not sorry And yes, Lloyd was matched to both Ran and Cookie - they just opted to try and ease Ran into it 🤭

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marveldcmistress · 19 days ago

Text

Bearskin

Pairing: Curtis Everett x f!reader

More Author's Notes at the end.

Anyway, thank you everyone who partook in Friday and Saturday's Pick Your Fic polls - Sunday's is open here.

Tags/Warnings: slow burn, Arranged Marriage, angst and fluff!, this is a medieval/viking AU - look I didnt really do much past researching old huts and some traditions haha, arranged marriage, emotional intelligence of a brick!Curtis, self-deprecating talk, curtis being brooding, but that's also for plot, you’ll see, attempts at seduction, sexual content mention (but nothing happens in this part sorryyyy), reader is just a horn-dog xoxo

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk x

Summary: Being married off to the rivalling villages chieftain, securing a peace treaty for your people, you believe that all is well and good until you realise that he's not interested in you.

Word Count: ~5k

Divider @/lunaridae

Navigation | Masterlist | Curtis Everett Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

The way he'd walked into the food hall had you captivated.

Confident but not arrogant, bloody, dirty and a face set in stone with eyes that shone like jewels in their sockets. He wore leathers and furs laden with weapons; and axe and a multitude of knives. The most prominent article of clothing was the bearskin he wore.

Rumour had it that when lost in the harsh wilderness after a battle, he had killed a bear and hidden inside it, skinning it's fur the following morning to stay warm as he ate the flesh over a fire.

That rumour alone was enough to terrify most other village chieftains into submission. But not all. He was a fierce fighter, a brilliant strategist. Up until four days ago he'd bested you father's men at every turn and hadn't lost a single soldier, prompting your father to call a truce as he reconsidered where his alliances truly lay as chieftain of a much smaller village.

You shifted nervously in your chair watching him approach. He was big, tall and broad and you could feel your heart begin to to prepare for a hundred metre dash. Exhaling slowly and quietly to compose yourself, you kept your head held high as your father did the song and dance of welcoming Curtis and his village people to the celebration, reminding yourself that this was your idea. For the sake of your people.

"Today is an important day in our history. Today, we welcome Curtis and his people as if they were our own. Today we celebrate the unification of our villages."

Curtis stopped before your father but didn't bow and for one dreaded moment you think there may be a massacre. However, he nods his head before turning those beautiful eyes onto you. As if on cue, you rise before him, smoothing the creases your white marital gown away and smiling shyly.

His eyes don't leave you as you step away from your place next to your father, clutching a thin circlet made of woven twigs with crocuses of white and purple slipped between them. You present it to Curtis who, without taking his eyes from you, takes the circlet in his large hands and places it delicately onto your head.

The room erupts into cheers and applause. Congratulations are thrown around and Curtis recieves many a slap on the back and handshake while you are fussed over by your friends and the ladies who you will now call your family.

"Curtis is a good man," one of them says.

"I'm so envious!" Another giggles.

The next few hours are a blur; drinking, dancing and feasting. The acceptance of your circlet was the acceptance of you as a bride, as a wife. Your life would change dramatically up north; longer winters in strange lands, new customs to learn, old customs to share.

His hands were warm and soft as they slipped a silver ring onto your hand and vowed to keep you safe and you'd smiled as you promised to care for him in return, slipping a matching silver ring onto his hand. The cheers and whoops from the crowd as he cupped your cheek with one of those warm hands to press a kiss against your lips rang in your ears. A morning proposal, an afternoon wedding and a celebration that lasted well into the night.

As you danced and sang around the fire with your friends for one final night, you can feel Curtis' eyes follow you and when you do catch him looking, you flash him a smile. Only for him to look away.

"Your new husband is handsome." One of your friends giggles. "And his eyes have been on you all evening."

"Here's to hoping you're not left disappointed tonight." Another slurs, raising her tankard, which you quickly steal from her and hush her.

"Not so loud!" You giggle before entertaining the thought. "He doesn't look like he'd disappoint."

"Hrm." The first friend says again before goving you a sly grin. "Don't bears mate for three months? And it's loud and savage?"

The group bursts into laughter when you hide your face in embarassment, quickly shushing each other as Curtis approaches. He's still stoic. You'd only caught a few wisps of a smile throughout the day but he looks almost uncomfortable as he stands before you and your friends. You take the hand he offers as you get to your feet and he nods at your friends.

"I'm sorry I have to steal her away." He says.

"We're surprised you didn't do it sooner." Your drunken friend teases and you smack at her playfully, guiding Curtis towards your hut.

"I'm sorry about them." You tell him, looping your arm through his. You can help the excitement your feeling, the tension, how he's been looking at you. Your insides curl with anxiety; tonight was the mark of a new beginning. Your people would be safe, your friends and family too, and you had a husband who was, at least the very least, attractive.

You chuckle as Curtis has to duck through the doorway as he enters your hut, his massive figure blocking the light of the moon as you try to light some candles.

The curtains that acted as your door billowed behind him as you dusted off your bed, a raised stone slab with a straw mattress and pillows with animal fur covers. You knelt awkwardly, peering up at him as he sat next to you, trying to look seductive. He jumps when you run your fingers across the width of his shoulders and you murmur a quiet apology as you move closer to his lips.

"You don't-" he breathes. "We don't have to. We're up early tomorrow."

You blink at him. Was this a test? A joke?

He was your husband! You knew what should be happening on your wedding night. In fact, you'd been looking forward to it since laying your eyes on Curtis this morning.

"I want to." You tell him but he clears his throat and stands suddenly.

"I'll help you pack."

"You'll what?"

Curtis heads to your clothes chest and opens it. "Help pack. You have space for winter clothing - that's good."

You're baffled. You don't know what to do other than awkwardly bring him trinkets and some of your crafts. He doesn't speak much other than complimenting your craftsmanship on your embroidery but even after you've finished packing, he's not interested in the consumation of your marriage.

"Husband?" Your voice wavers with nerves watching him stoke the fire in the centre of the room. "Are you alright?"

"'M Fine. You should get some rest." He doesn't look at you now and you sit on your bed confused and slightly affronted that he won't cast a glance your way.

"Okay... well, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The next morning, you're too embarassed to tell your friends the truth before you leave. You let them think that you've throughly enjoyed your wedding night, lest they worry like you are. You ride a horse alongside Curtis, wrapped in furs, waving goodbye to your old life as you set off with your new husband and new people, wondering if things will get better.

On your journey to your new home, Curtis and you shared a tent at night but he continued to refuse letting his, or your, hands wander. He'd keep you close for warmth, and you'd let yourself indulge in the smell of him. He smelled like conifers and ash; a sweet and deep musk that, once you collapsed into the furs of your new bed late afternoon four days after your wedding, you fell straight to sleep almost immediately after lying face first in the furs.

On your journey, and within your first few days, you'd befriended a woman named Tannya and her son as they seemed closest to your husband other than Edgar who was his second in command. You'd hoped they could offer some insight into your new husband, perhaps even explain his strange behaviour.

They spent more time with him than you did after all.

Since arriving back at his village, Curtis had practically ignored you. He would bring you food but not eat with you, sleep next to you only when he thought you were asleep... You couldn't help but get the feeling your husband was actively avoiding you.

"Curtis is... Curtis." Tannya shrugs over at you as she cuts open a rabbit carcass to remove the offal and internal meat. She'd instructed you to wash the skins but you were in awe of her resourcefulness.

As your husband was almost always busy with everything but you, Tannya had been a saving grace from keeping you from going insane. You had watched her set traps the eve before and had attempted to make one yourself; before it collapsed in on itself.

"That's helpful." You sigh. "What about his favourite food? Maybe I should try to make it for him."

"His favourite food?" Tannya pauses her cutting and grins over at you, and you give her a small, sheepish smile. She shakes her head and resumes cutting. "That would be sweet. No wonder he's smitten with you."

"He is?" You couldn't stop the question before it flew out of your mouth. Even in your first week in your new home, you know that Tannya isn't one to lie. So it was odd for her to say something so entirely contradictory.

"Pssht. It's written all over his face." Tannya waves her knife as she speaks, looking at you incredulously. "Always looking at you, worrying about the celebrations... You know he even asked for extra blankets in your hut just in case the cold was too much for you?"

You look at her for a moment and consider her words, chest warming to the notions of Curtis' alleged affections. He was never looking at you when you looked his way but then, you supposed, that was the point. Perhaps courting was different in the north? Perhaps your husband was shy?

"Extra blankets?" You can feel the ghost of a smile tug the corners of your lips, recalling your second morning in your new hut.

At night, Curtis still slept beside you and thankfully so because heat rolled from his body like an open bonfire. However in the morning, after leaving you to sleep to run errands, he'd caught you shivering as you entered the living area and had silently shrugged off his bearskin to wrap around your shoulders. You'd been surprised at the gesture but thanked him (earning you a grumbled response) before he'd disappeared again. You'd thought he'd been annoyed but now, knowing he'd fretted about more blankets for you, relief and hope surged in your veins. You may be able to win over your husband after all.

"He can take some getting used to. Don't worry you have the rest of your life to understand him." Tannya continues unperturbed, offering a motherly smile that comforts you from the inside out. "I'll show you how to make his favourite dish after we finish up and you can serve it for him tonight. In a few days when you're more settled I'll take your measurements for your second ceremony dress."

"Second ceremony?"

"You had a southern wedding now you'll have a northern." Tannya says plainly. "Not everyone was able to make it for your first one, myself and Timmy included. It'll be a rite of passage as our new chieftainess."

You nod vigorously, the weight of Tannya's words sinking in. Your rite of passage. It was more responsibility than you ever expected to have and yet you welcomed it with open arms.

The stew had been simple enough to make and you'd tried to inconspicuously smuggle it back to your hut to surprise Curtis, only to be stopped by about five villagers who all wanted to ask you the same questions on how you'd found your trip and how you were settling in.

By the time you'd managed to get back and set the food above the fire pit, you only had thirty minutes of pottering and preparing before Curtis appeared.

"Smells good," He murmurs, setting his axe down against the bedroom entryway as you dish up hot stew and place it on and already-set table.

"I was thinking we could..." you wring your hands bashfully. "Eat. Together."

Curtis raises an eyebrow but grunts with a nod, taking a seat opposite you, and tentatively poking at his stew with his spoon. He raises it slowly, almost as if he's waiting for it to stop steaming. You watch with baited breath as he takes a bite, the silence between you intense. He looks up at you to see you watching him and his ears go pink, his eyes drop to the stew again.

"How is it?" You ask, feeling silly for sounding so eager, so desperate to hear his praise.

"Good." He says around another mouthful but he says nothing more. After a few beats you sit back in your chair and poke at your stew before taking a few mouthfuls of your own.

"How were things today?" You ask casually. "Any progress on the second well?"

"Mm." Curtis nods again, not looking up. "Progress is going well."

"Oh, good."

Silence falls between you, the only sound in your home the clanking and scraping of spoons against bowls. You chew at your lip. This had been better than it had been and you didn't want to push your luck. However, after a few beats Curtis speaks up again.

"How are you settling in? How's my... how is the hut? I tried to make it ... nicer for you."

If you didn't know any better you'd say your grizzly of a husband was flustered. You look up over your spoonful of stew and can make out heated, red flesh peeking over his beard and your heart jumps for joy.

The hut itself was... basic. Threadbare of almost anything apart from furniture and the odd trinket but the last thing you want to do is be insulting.

"It's lovely." You half-lie.

Curtis allows a ghost of a smile to pass his lips before looking serious again. "Tannya tells me it needs a woman's touch."

You bite your lip trying to force your chuckle back down your throat. Was that an joke? From Curtis?

"I mean, well -" you're smiling into your stew, and when you glance up again you can see Curtis is smirking slightly.

His eyes lock with yours and you see him stiffen again. Your heart thuds anxiously as he breaks your gaze and move to get up, the warmth that had started building between you dissipated.

Curtis moves around to your side of the table and reaches for your bowl. He's still not looking at you but his intention to clear away doesn't go amiss.

"What are you doing?" You ask staring up at him, daring him to look at you for more than ten seconds. "Go sit down."

"Let me -" He purses his lips slightly and tries again. "You cooked. I should-"

You rise to your feet, moving your bowl out of his reach and fixing him with a smirk. Holding out your free hand parallel with his broad chest, you insist he hands over his bowl.

"Let your wife spoil you once and a while." You tease softly as he begrudgingly hands you his bowl. The redness on his cheeks returns and his chest heaves but he says nothing. "You can help with clean up next time."

Curtis looks at you skeptically. There's a moment where he brushes past and you think he might kiss you but he steps back as soon as the thought pops into your head.

You expected Curtis to grunt and venture forth into the village to do some more chieftain errands as usual, however, he surprises you by hovering silently beside you. He watches you clean the bowls and utensils, dry them with a cloth and put them away without saying a word.

"Thank you for the food." He grumbles quietly, looking at his feet. "It was...delicious. How did you know it was my favourite?"

"I asked Tannya." You grin over at him proudly. "She showed me how to make it so I can cook into for you more often."

He makes a grunt of approval and nods his head. "Thank you."

Your smile stays in place. "It's nothing. Are you coming to bed?"

You catch a glimmer of panic in Curtis' blue eyes before he shakes his head. "Erm, no - not... not yet."

"Then I'll see you in the morning. Wake me if you need anything." You say gently, weaving past him to prepare yourself for bed.

The following day goes by without so much as a breeze of cold air and you decide that you would brave the elements a little longer and go for a walk, familiarising yourself with the great unknowns of your new village.

You’d been introduced to most of the villagers so you knew roughly where each person lived and Tannya had shown you some of the best places to catch rabbits, however, you were yet to brave the forest.

The pine trees that resided on the outskirts your newfound home are tall and dense. Wildflowers sprout haphazardly like a border and, as you approach, you can hear the squeals of joy from the children. You realise that they must come out of the village to play; out of the way of the adults who are working and away from fretting mothers so that they may carry out their adorable schemes and fantasies.

Walking as quietly as you can through the trees, you try to spot the children and catch a gaggle of them running not more than twenty-feet in front of you. You dive behind a thick trunk and peek out trying to make sense of the game they're playing when your husband's hulking form comes into view.

You shrink back instinctively against the bark, hoping you aren't caught - but Curtis seems preoccupied with playing with the children. Curiosity keeps you from calling out to reveal yourself; watching the children ready themselves then darting in a myriad of directions with giggles of joy as Curtis gives chase, purposefully jogging after them to let them get a head start.

You continue to watch hoping to catch a glimpse of a true smile. You had yet to catch Curtis smile properly and you knew that seeing him play with the children would be your best chance.

When he managed to get a hold of one child, the others surrounded him, grabbing at his legs and jumping onto his back until he yielded with a laugh.

Enthralled, you began to smile at the scene before you; heart swelling at the thought of him playing like this with your children. You bit back a chuckle when you envisioned him hiding behind a tree, broad shoulders sticking out as clear as day from either side, making your children squeal with laughter.

Would he love them even if he didn't love you? Or would he have no interest and leave them in your stead only? From what you'd seen, you could only surmise that he would be an excellent father to your children, regardless of his feelings towards you.

That was, if he ever decided to have children with you. Being with child meant having sex and Curtis, even after warming up to speaking a few sentences to you the last two weeks, still didn't want to bed you.

You remained rooted to your hiding spot watching your husband and the children play; clinging to a daydream where you pretended to have something wonderful and romantic with the chieftain of the north.

You considered for a moment asking Curtis to take you to play with them sometime but thought better of it when you realised that he would siphon that task to Tannya or another villager, leaving you right back where you started.

Instead, you opt to keep your daydream of false domesticity to yourself, and watch the children tackle Curtis to the ground with cries of victory.

Tannya had told you that there was no point in cooking as that evening marked two whole weeks since your marriage to Curtis and the villagers had insisted on a dance and small celebration.

"Is this my second celebration?" You asked her in a hushed tone, helping to carry a dish of berries to one of the tables.

"Goodness no." Tannya clicks her tongue setting her bowl down. "You need a new dress and the decorations aren't even finished! We're all just impatient."

You chuckle and continue to run errands in preparation for the evening, desperate not to be useless and to prove to your village that you're happy to help.

By sunset, the clearing is alight with music, drinks and dancing. You skulk around the edges of conversation and sip at your tankard, keeping an eager eye out for Curtis. You almost don't hear someone calling for you over the chatter.

"Chieftainess!"

You look around wildly, before your eyes settle on an old man who is waving his walking stick at you. Approaching with a beaming grin, you take the seat next to Gilliam, one of the elders.

"Gilliam," you address him sweetly. "How are you finding tonight? Is your tankard full?"

Gilliam guffaws and bangs his stick on the ground. "Tonight is wonderful - and yes of course it is. The children are keeping me topped up."

There's a slight slur to his words and his devious smirk makes you giggle. You knew that he was a surrogate father to Curtis, a wise man who in his old age, had become a loyal advisor.

"How has your first two weeks been?" He asks curiously. "I trust Curtis is making you feel at home?"

"Of course." You lie through a smile. "When he's not so busy."

Gilliam grins wickedly. " Maybe if he stopped bragging to everyone how great you are, he'd be able to. 'My wife did this', 'my wife did that', 'my wife made my favourite'..."

You frown gently, your heart aching in your chest. Gilliam wouldn't lie for the sake of it, you were sure of it but this didn't sound at all like the Curtis you knew, the one you lived with.

Catching your confused expression, Gilliam frowns at you instead. "You don't believe me do you?"

It's not a loaded accusation; more curious.

"I... well, Gilliam, I do live with him." You chuckle but your smile doesn't reach your eyes and Gilliam notices. He nods slowly, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Ah, of course," he clears his throat. "Tell me what do you talk about when you're together?"

A flush snakes it's way to your cheeks. Do you tell him that you and Curtis still haven't consummated your marriage? That Curtis, even on a good day, barely speaks to you?

"Not much... if anything at all." You sigh softly, playing with your hands in your lap. "If we eat together, it's in silence. He usually continues running errands or waits until I go to bed to eat."

You wring your hands, unsure if you should continue. "I know it's because he's the chieftain. He has a lot of responsibility too. I don't want to sound selfish."

"Ah, I see." Gilliam hums thoughtfully.

"Did he have a wife before? Have I done something to offend him?" You blurt suddenly, looking to Gilliam desperate for answers to your husband's behaviour. No one ever warned you your husband wouldn't be interested in you.

Gilliam snorts and offers you his hand, which you take diligently, and he closes his other wrinkled palm over it. "Come closer."

You lean in close and feel like a child again, listening to one of your father's fables.

"Believe me or not," Gilliam scoffs. "That boy loves you."

You want to laugh at how Gilliam calls Curtis boy so easily, as if he isn't a mass of muscle and bone, but you only tilt your head slightly as if you can't quite understand him, tears prickling at the edges of your vision as you whisper back.

"My husband doesn't love me." As soon as you say it it's like all the air has gone from your lungs and more words begin to rush out. "I don't know what I've done to make him so indifferent towards me nor do I know how to fix it." You hiccup quietly, smearing tears angrily across your face with your free hand. "You say he says these things but he doesn't say them to me."

Gilliam looks at you pleadingly, squeezing your hand. "He does. And to answer your question from before, he's never had a wife before you. He's never courted anyone before you either."

That small piece of information pulls you from your tears and you sniff, brows furrowing at Gilliam. "Him? Never?"

Gilliam shakes his head, clearly trying not to smile. "Too many things to do as chieftain. To many battles. Too busy." He raises an eyebrow at you. "And suddenly he has secured peace with one village and acquired a bride."

You slump back into your chair, shocked.

"Hmph." Gilliam huffs smugly. "He's still acting like a fool, though. How can you not know how to treat a beautiful woman?" He shakes his head before nodding firmly at you. "When you get him behaved, bear-tamer; bring him to me so I can hit him with my stick."

Through your tears you snort a laugh and begins to giggle at the image. Gilliam pats your hand and chuckles with you before beginning to recount tales of Curtis as a young boy.

Gilliam is halfway through a tale of Curtis catching a ferocious boar, at which you're half in hysterics, when the man himself appears.

"Ah, Curtis." Gilliam says fondly. "I was just telling your wife about Hamhock the Terrible; you almost missed the best part."

Curtis' lips twitch. "You're trying to embarass me in front of my wife, old man?"

Gilliam chortles and stage-whispers over to you, "He's still very touchy about being dragged across the forest floor by that pig."

You try to hide your snort behind your hand but you can't quite manage it thanks to the alcohol.

"I suppose you've come to steal your wife for a dance?" Gilliam continues, raising a brow at Curtis.

"If that's alright?"

"Why are you asking me?" Gilliam huffs, shooting you a mischievous wink.

"I - erm - w-would you-" Curtis shuffles awkwardly as you rise to your feet.

"Of course." You tell him, sparing him the awkwardness, pressing a kiss to Gilliam's cheek before following Curtis. "Thank you for your company Gilliam."

"Anytime, chieftainess. Anytime." He wiggles his walking stick. "And remember what I said!"

Cheers erupt over the music as you and Curtis rejoin the throng of the party and you want to rejoice at the feeling of belonging surging in your veins. But before you can, the music starts up again and Curtis gives you no warning as he sweeps you - quite literally - off your feet.

In a surprise to absolutely no one, Curtis has two left feet. He spins you away and tugs you back towards him almost tripping over himself in the process. You start to giggle and as you're tugged square into his large chest and look up to see that Curtis is grinning down at you. A real, genuine smile that makes heat rush to your cheeks.

The music slows and Edgar's shout of "kiss! " creates an echo around the clearing where everyone is dancing. You can feel the eyes of the villagers on you as they chant and you smile nervously before glancing to Curtis, who furrows his brows slightly, then dips his head slightly before stopping, lips gently parted. You're just beginning to wonder what he's doing before he dips his head lower and brushes your lips with his. The kiss is just like it was on your first wedding night; tender and gentle. His beard is soft, wisps of hair tickle at your skin and you smile against his lips.

Joyous cries from the crowd thrum in your ears and when Curtis goes to pull back, you follow him, pressing yourself against him as your hands come up to cup his face. He, surprisingly, allows it and very quickly mimics your action; cupping your face and pulling you close before releasing you with gentle pants of breath.

Edgar smack Curtis' back and envelopes you in a tight hug, welcoming you and gushing about how excited he is for the second ceremony. Some of the women hurry to your side with Tannya, pulling you away from Curtis to ask you about your homeland, how you'd like your new dress to look, what flowers you'd like in your hair. You quickly realise that this celebration was a test to see if the villagers, and Curtis, approved of you; and you were thankful that they had.

With one longing glance back at your husband, you were ushered away, leaving Curtis to watch you smile and laugh from afar.

Hours later, you're cuddled up with Timmy next to a fire, exhausted from drink and dancing. Timmy's idly drawing a few sketches of the villagers as you tell him fables from your homeland albeit slightly slurred. The party had died down, with most villagers heading to their homes and packing away food to stop it spoiling.

Curtis appears in your peripheral and you turn to look up at him, Timmy following suit when he hears you utter your husband's name. Curtis eases into a squat beside you both, close to you for once, and asks what you're up to in a hushed tone that makes you want to melt into him.

"The chieftainess is telling me stories." Timmy says with quiet glee, cuddling into your shoulder. "She's a good story teller."

He yawns loudly and rubs at his eyes, causing you and Curtis to chuckle at the same time before sharing a shy glance at the other.

"I think someone needs his rest." You say softly and Timmy grins sheepishly up at you. "Come on, let's find your mama and get you to bed."

"Not one more?" Timmy pleads and Curtis answers for you.

"You can have more tomorrow I'm sure." Curtis glances at you again, this time with a small smile. "I'm sure the chieftainess wouldn't mind?"

Your stomach flips. Had dancing together changed his demeanour? Or the kiss? Or was it the alcohol? Either way, it was a welcomed change.

"Of course!" You say looking back to Timmy. "But I need you well rested to be able to pay attention. Got it?"

Timmy nods and rubs at his eyes as Curtis straightens and offers both of his large hands to you and Timmy, pulling you to your feet with ease.

After handing Timmy back to his mother, you and Curtis head back to your own hut. From the night's events and yesterday's stew, you hoped that maybe tonight you'd be able to finally consumate your marriage. That you'd curried enough favour with Curtis for him to begin to accept you willingly into his bed, rather than just a woman to share it with.

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?" You ask once inside. "Fetch any beer?"

Curtis shakes his head. "No. You may head to the bedroom if you so wish, you've had a busy day."

Your heart jumps. Was that an offer? You dip your head and enter the bedroom, stripping quickly out of your dresses to freshen up. Gentle dabs of rosewater against your skin. You wait and wait until your eyes grow heavy, naked under the blankets.

When Curtis finally appears in the doorway, you immediately perk up. He shrugs off his furs as he approaches the washing bowl, splashing water onto his face to clean away the day's grime and the night's joy. He hears you shift under the blanket and turns slightly to look at you, legs bare and hair slightly tousled from where you'd been restless with nerves, thin blanket covering your thighs and chest. He immediately turns back to the water bowl.

"Thought you'd be asleep."

"I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

Your stomach flips and heat rushes to your cheeks. Did you really have to spell it out for him?

"I thought... we would be..." You drop your gaze to his feet, clearing your throat in the hopes you would loosen the words free. "That perhaps I may... service you."

Curtis stiffens. You peek up through your lashes, hopeful, but he doesn't turn around. The muscles of his back are tight and there's an angry red flush creeping up the back of his neck. Your eyes roam his figure, unsure of where to begin; battle-scarred back, broad shoulders... your mind boggled at thoughts of other places you'd longed to see and kiss that you almost miss his growl.

"Service me?"

"Yes." You say, a little more confidently. Perhaps this was a game. You'd heard that some men liked it when women were confident in telling their husband what they wanted. "To get on my knees and-"

"No."

You blink in surprise. Surely, you misheard. His growl seemed like he was excited - you'd misread the situation entirely. Again. "Chieftain, wha-"

"I said no." Curtis snaps and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. With a sigh, Curtis turns on his heels to leave the room. "I'll let you get to sleep."

Tears prickle your vision and you don't quite stop the first sob that makes its way out of your mouth. Your stomach churns with the nauseating embarassment of being turned down, and your heart aches to be back in your village, in your own bed. You made a mistake. This was somehow worse than letting your village fall victim to his wrath.

You sob and sniff quietly as you find your nightdress and pull it on, crawling back into the warmth of the blankets and curling into a ball. You could understand if he wasn't in the mood, but this seemed more like he hated you. That he wasn't attracted to you. That you were ugly; especially when paired with the fact he wouldn't even cast a glance your way.

Your body shudders as tears stain your pillow. You're so small in the large bed, surrounded by the scent of your husband in a cruel taunt, huddled as far to the bed's edge as you possibly can be.

What had you done to make him hate you? You thought, you stupidly thought, that tonight would be different; after the dancing, the kiss, the tender moment when he'd come to get you and Timmy. Evidently, he remained steadfast in whatever ploy it was to torment you.

Wallowing in your heartache and embarassment, you made the quiet vow to not act like a wife again. If you were just there as a token of a truce, regardless of what Gilliam and Tannya said, then that's all you would be to Curtis.

Part 1 End

A/N: This took so long. It's the longest fic I've written in one go and I had to split it into two parts while editing and you'll be pleased to know I fell asleep editing this 🙂‍↕️. A labour of love indeed! Idk why Curtis' parts always end up in 2s...maybe he's my fave. Who knows.

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