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draguta · 1 year ago

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.a court of fate and fortune | twenty-five.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: minor smut (literally a sprinkling - barely there at all)

chapter word count: 4196

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Letter

Everything was different after that day in Leif.

You’d been allowed to sleep late the next morning, having skipped dinner and breakfast, but when Alis finally knocked softly on the door and popped her head in with a tray of lunch at midday, you’d been surprised to catch a glimpse of the golden armour of sentinels through the small crack that she made in the doorway.

Alis watched where your eyes fell - not on her, or on the food tray that she had so carefully curated that morning, but on the sentinels. “Lord Tamlin ordered them here last night, after you fell asleep,” she explained, although the lilt in her voice suggested that she was as much a fan of the idea as you were. “They’re meant to watch your door, day and night.”

“Hmm,” was the only response you offered her as you wondered, for a moment, if it was Tamlin’s idea to keep you guarded and safe, or to keep the remainder of the manor guarded and safe…from you.

No doubt he had heard every detail about your victory in Leif the day before. No doubt he was wondering exactly where you had learnt such skills with a sword - skills that couldn’t have been taught in only a few weeks of training with Silas.

And then there was Lucien. He had actually told Tamlin…confessed his love for you in front of the one person who had the power to keep the two of you apart. Were the guards an extension of that? Another way to keep Lucien away from you as he had once done after Under the Mountain?

Alis placed the tray at the foot of the bed, the pot of tea and tea cup rattling with the action. You sat up, rubbing at your sleep-filled eyes. Your head ached; the cut on the back of your head had been healed in minutes the night before, Lucien’s deft hands making quick work of the injury, but it hadn't dulled the lingering pain that followed. Yet, the silence provided it with at least a reprieve from the constant business that usually surrounded the manor.

Silence…

“Where is Lucien?” You asked as nonchalantly as you could manage, picking at a strawberry from the small fruit platter that sat beside the plate of pastries on the tray. Alis glanced up at you from under her lashes as she poured you a steaming cup of tea, the swirls of heat curling up and around her face.

“There’s a library in the temple,” she explained tightly. “Lord Tamlin sent him there early this morning to find a way to…bring Feyre back.”

You pursed your lips, cocking your head to the side in question. “And Tamlin will want to see me today?” You knew the answer - he would want to talk about what happened in Leif for certain, and would likely grill you about your relationship with Lucien. You would honour Lucien, in the same way that he had you - would tell Tamlin everything, tell him how much you loved Lucien, how much the emissary meant to you.

Tamlin wouldn’t like it. But you wouldn’t back down.

“Lord Tamlin isn’t here,” Alis said, handing you the cup of tea - faint scents of honey wafted up to your nostrils, sweet and sugary and warm, but you couldn’t focus on them. Not when Alis was watching you so pointedly, as if waiting for some kind of explanation. “He received a letter this morning, and immediately went to the woods. I doubt he’ll be back until sundown.”

‘Went to the woods’. That meant he was in beast form. Whatever was in that letter…it must have angered him enough for him to want solitude for the day. “What letter?” You asked slowly, watching as Alis sighed, lowering her head. Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling a small scrap of parchment and an envelope that had been carelessly ripped open from inside it.

“I found it left on the dining room table after breakfast,” she said, studying the letter with pinched brows. “I shouldn’t have taken it, but…”

“It’s okay, Alis,” you said softly, reaching out to take the parchment from her. “If you have a problem with Tamlin because of it, you can blame it on me.”

Alis only nodded once in gratitude, although I knew she would never do such a thing as lie to her High Lord, as my eyes drifted down to the letter, trailing over each line. My heart stopped.

‘Tamlin, I left of my own free will. I am cared for and safe. I am grateful for all that you did for me, all that you gave. Please don’t come looking for me. I’m not coming back. Feyre.’

She had done it. She had actually done it.

You would have cried with joy if you weren’t so concerned about what that meant for the Spring Court, for the people that lived here and had to deal with Tamlin’s wrath. He surely wouldn’t let this go, wouldn’t for a second understand her want or need to leave the Spring Court. Just as he had once never understood your need to leave.

Lucien hadn’t failed to tell you about those weeks that you were gone, how Tamlin had nearly gone mad searching for you, for Feyre. Had contemplated risking war with the Night Court just to ensure you returned to the Spring Court safely.

Little had he known that you were fine - both of you had been just fine - sitting happy in comfort in Rhys’ palaces, drinking wine and eating fully. Feyre had taken her lessons, had learnt to read and write, had gained a healthy and much-needed weight. Was no doubt learning the joy of the found family you had joined months prior at that very moment.

Rhys and Mor, Cassian and Amren. And Azriel.

How they would have welcomed Feyre, just as they had welcomed you. ‘I know you don’t think of Velaris as your home. But if you ever did decide to stay, there would always be room for you.’ That’s what Cassian had once told you. You wondered if the same would be the case for Feyre. It would be, you knew that. Especially since Feyre was Rhysand’s mate…

Rhysand. Rhysand who had sent you back here, to the Spring Court. Rhysand, who had saved Feyre from this place, took her out of the path of Tamlin ire, but had left you here regardless. And for what reason? To benefit his own goals. To forward his own plans.

But at least Feyre was safe, even if you were still stuck there. Even if the only good that had come out of your return to Spring was reuniting with Lucien.

Yet, you weren’t sure, despite those few positives, that you could trust Rhys quite the same again. You had been used as a pawn, something he would never have done to Feyre you were sure. It had been ‘your choice’, but it hadn’t really. Not when there was so much resting on this, resting on that spellbook and the information you could gather here. There was no choice there for you at all.

Feyre is out and safe. You’re back with Lucien. That’s what you would keep telling yourself, even if it was hard to believe that everything would be okay despite those factors. Especially now that the spellbook was gone…

“She is safe, right?” Alis asked suddenly, hand wringing at her skirts. You had never seen her look so timid before, usually so blunt and firm. She bit at the inside of her cheek, looking up at you nervously, as if she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer at all. “It’s just, that day…I helped that female - the pretty one, from the Night Court. I took her right to Feyre, asked her to take Feyre away, to look after her. And…I need to know that I made the right decision, that Feyre is safe there. You were there, at the Night Court. Please, tell me.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile, leaning forward across the mattress to take Alis’ hand, squeezing it softly, reassuringly. “She’ll be fine there, Alis,” you soothed. “The Night Court is not what everyone thinks it is. The rumours aren’t true. She’ll be safe. She’ll be happy.”

Alis seemed to sag with relief, a heavy breath escaping her parted lips. Then she paused, cocked her head, and looked to you again, those bark-brown eyes soft and understanding. “Were you happy there? What you said to Lord Tamlin, was any of that true?”

“No,” you said honestly, drawing in a deep breath as you sat up in the bed once again, brushing down the fabric of the comforter, not meeting her eye. “None of it was true. I was…so very happy there, in a way.”

“Do you intend to go back?” She asked, raising a brow. You paused.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you said slowly. “Perhaps one day. But, wherever my home is, I don’t know if I’ve found it yet. I think I’m meant to be wherever…wherever Lucien is.”

Alis smirked, a knowing, mischievous glint in her eye as she tilted her chin upwards, that timidness a thing of the past. “Then that would be in the dining room for lunch then.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Each of Lucien’s fingers hit gently against the wood of the table top in a delicate, routined rhythm, one pulled from an old drinking song his brother had once taught him, long before he had been forced out of the Autumn Court, long before Under the Mountain, before he had met Y/N.

Everything seemed so…messy now. Feyre’s letter had arrived that morning over breakfast, and whilst Tamlin had barely said a word before its arrival, likely due to lingering anger from Lucien’s confession the day before, the silence that had followed had been overbearing, and he had known without needing to read the letter himself that the High Lord would not be spending much longer at that table.

He had been right; Tamlin had left and disappeared into the woods moments later, the unsettling, feral roar of the beast that he had become echoing in his wake.

But as he leaned back in his chair, in the same spot he had been in that morning when the letter had arrived, he pondered everything that he knew.

One, Feyre was gone, possibly for good this time, and that letter had proved it. That was the letter that had been sent that morning, Lucien was sure of it, even if he hadn’t wanted to pry enough to read it himself. Those words were meant for Tamlin’s eyes, not Lucien’s, and he knew that. That was why, when he had seen Alis slip the letter into her pocket to dispose of, he hadn’t stopped her.

Two, it was the Night Court - it was Rhysand - that had taken Feyre, to that faraway court in the North that no one had ever dared step foot in. No one, that is, besides Y/N. She had been there, had lived amongst them, had trusted Rhysand enough in those weeks to know that he wouldn’t hurt her. In fact, he had helped her, and Lucien would be remiss if he hadn’t seen how Feyre had returned a little healthier, with a little of her glow back.

Three, Rhysand still couldn’t be trusted, not by him, even if Y/N was so adamant that he was an ally. The way that he had slunk into the manor on more than one occasion now - the things Lucien had seen him do Under the Mountain… How could he, in good faith, trust someone like that? Trust a male who had walked into another’s home and stolen away their bride? Yet, he trusted Y/N, more than he trusted anyone else. Even still - even with the handful of good deeds he had witnessed Rhysand do - Lucien couldn’t bring himself to offer him more than a slither of trust. But he had to, had to trust that Feyre was, in fact, okay. There was no other option.

But that letter…there was something off about that letter.

A single moment crossed over his mind - chained at the sunken base of a pit, Y/N watching white-faced from over the lip, a riddle written on the wall, three levers…

Feyre couldn’t read. Not back then, not Under the Mountain, not when it had been Lucien’s own life hanging in the balance. But…he’d seen her around the manor, books in hand, walking from her room to the gardens, exiting the library, hauled up in a chair by the fire in the sitting room with a book in her lap. She’d somehow learnt to read.

But that didn’t extend to writing, and to write took a lot more concentration, focus, time than reading, than Feyre had been granted since Under the Mountain. Feyre could read now, but surely, Feyre couldn’t write.

So whoever had written that letter, it hadn’t been her. Whomever had held that pen, had so delicately carved the words in ink onto that parchment, it wasn’t Feyre. Logically, it had to have been Rhysand.

That would explain Tamlin’s anger then. He believed it to be a trick.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight - tiredness caused them to sting. It had been an early start that morning, and Tamlin’s orders had sent him down to the temple, down to deal with Ianthe as he searched through their small collection of ancient books that might have yielded any information about Feyre, about how to break that bargain she’d made with the Lord of Night. There had been nothing, and hours of avoiding Ianthe and endless reading had left him exhausted; he’d winced when he’d gone to change for lunch and caught sight in the mirror of the heavy bags under his eyes and the redness that was creeping in spidery lines through the white of his russet eyes.

It had been that reflection alone that had caused him to pull the cork from the decanter of wine and pour himself a glass.

A pleasant lilt, alongside the click of the door locking, sounded from behind him. “A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

“Not when you’ve had the morning I’ve had,” Lucien said with a tilt of his head - an invitation - to where Y/N hovered there, watching him carefully. He pursed his lips, turning in his seat to face her properly. Her smirk sent his heart into rapid beats, hard and heavy against the ribs caging it in place. She stepped forward, each step wafted that addictive scent of her toward him - how had he lived through all of those weeks without that scent? She stopped at his side, reaching over to take the glass from his hand, smirking once more as she took a single sip and lowered it from her lips, swirling the dark-red liquid around inside.

“In that case,” she said, voice sweet like honey, the same tone that had him falling to his knees for her so many months ago, had him dreaming of her at night in more than indecent situations, had him worrying for every single second about her long before he realised that what he was feeling was love. She continued, “Perhaps you’d like some company.”

He leaned forward, hands going to her hips, bunching up in the silky material of her dress slightly as he looked up at her, and she looked down at him from under thick, black lashes, expectantly. “If that company is from you,” he said with a wry smile, “then always.”

She laughed, bright and airy, and Lucien was sure he’d be willing to listen to that sound on a constant repeat for the rest of his years. He would willingly die at her hand just to hear that laugh again, if that’s what it took.

She perched in the seat beside him, grabbing the decanter of wine and filling her own glass. He watched the glint in her eyes - the way the sun reflected on the hues of colour in her hair as she threw her head back and swallowed the liquid in one go.

“Why are you drinking so early?” She asked innocently, pouring herself another glass and topping up Lucien’s. He paused, cocking his head slightly as she watched him closely.

“I assume you heard about Feyre’s letter,” he said - not a question, but a statement - and she nodded. Lucien huffed out a small sigh, stretching his back slightly in the arch of the chair’s back. “Well, I’d rather not think about it right now. Alcohol…helps to numb the thoughts.”

“So you’re drinking to forget?” Y/N asked slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Is there any other reason?” He offered, throwing her a cocky grin. Her brows pinched in worry, and he reached over, intertwining his fingers with hers. “My mind has been…busy, lately. With everything going on. I just need one afternoon where my mind is clearer, where I don’t have to worry.”

She nodded once. “I could do with one of those too,” was all she said as she swallowed down another glass of wine.

One more glass and she was shuffling her chair a little closer to him. Another glass and she was giggling. One more and his hand was on her thigh. A bottle later and that hand had trailed further up her leg. Another bottle cracked open and she was resting her head on his shoulder as he told her stories of the Autumn Court. By the time that bottle was finished, she was splayed across the table, legs resting on his shoulders as he feasted on her.

Drink. Drink. Drink. Fuck. Drink. Fuck. Drink. Feast. Drink. Fuck. Drink.

By the time the two of you were finished, the dining room was a mess of empty bottles, the glasses forgotten when the second bottle had been cracked open. There were clothes strewn about the floor, although both of you had remained wearing enough clothes to be deemed appropriate. He still wore his trousers, although the front had been unbuttoned enough to slip out the part of him that brought you the most pleasure, now tucked away but left revealing that slither of auburn hair that led right down to it. His tunic had been thrown off at some point, but he still wore his white linen shirt, untucked from his trousers, and untied down to his ribs, his golden chest fully on show. Your dress had practically been ripped from your body, but you still wore your slip and skirts, enough that skin was showing - skin that had been kissed and bitten enough to turn certain spots a sultry red and purple - but not so much that should someone walk in at that moment, or pass by the large windows that looked out onto the garden, they’d see anything you’d rather keep hidden from prying eyes.

You were both on the verge of too drunk, giggling and swaying, more alcohol in your systems than you’d ever drank before. But Lucien had been right - with the manipulation of the alcohol on your senses, you’d not been able to worry, had not been able to think about anything other than the male you were with in that moment.

Not until he had scooped yours and his discarded clothes under his arm and tugged at your hand to guide you up to his room, where there was ‘much more wine, and one of Tamlin’s bottles of sherry waiting for you, as Lucien had said, did your clouded mind clear enough for one thought to squeeze its way through.

Tamlin was gone for the day. That’s what Alis had said that morning. Tamlin wasn’t in the manor. Meaning that it would be the perfect time to scour his study for the spellbook without the threat of the High Lord walking in and catching you in the act.

“There’s something I need to take care of first,” you said when the two of you reached the bottom step of the stairs. Lucien paused, falling back down one stair and narrowing his eyes at you. You giggled once more and reached up on your tiptoes, planting a soft and fleeting kiss to his lips, swollen from the kisses you’d already given him that day. “I’ll be there in just a moment, I promise.”

“Is it anything I can help you with?” He asked slowly, but you shook your head softly.

“I promised Alis I’d fetch her the hair ribbon that’s frayed at the edges this afternoon. I want to drop it off before she begins making dinner,” you explained - he raised an eyebrow, awaiting further explanation. “I left it in the library a few days ago.”

His face scrunched just a tiny amount, and just for a moment - the face of a male who was being made to wait before receiving his pleasure - but he finally nodded, reciprocating the kiss that you’d given him, before turning and heading up the stairs. You chuckled as you noticed his sway, the way he gripped at the bannister. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he called over his shoulder. “And I’ll give you a reward if you’re quick enough.”

You watched him reach the top step and disappear down the hall toward his room, out of sight. And then you were moving, as fast as you could despite your drunken state.

Tamlin’s study was more chaotic than you remembered it being before Under the Mountain, although every visit into that room since then had provided an added layer of unkemptness. But that did offer the problem of where, exactly, to begin your search.

The bookcase yielded nothing, and the small boxes and drawers on the chest of drawers also provided no hints. There was no sign of the book. You searched everywhere, until only his desk remained unchecked.

You paused, wondering if stifling through his papers was somehow an invasion of his privacy, but the thought of that upcoming war, of your friends, of Lucien, on the battlefield…it pushed you forward. The drawers offered nothing other than maps and letters to the other High Lords in the Seasonal Courts for any kind of information they could give on the Night Court and the High Lord that ruled over it; from what you could tell, none had bothered to reply.

You were just about to give up, slumping back into his leather chair, when something caught your eye. A single letter resting on the top of the papers that blanketed the desktop, as if it had been laid there to rest, waiting for its receiver to ponder whether to read it or not. It was different from the other letters - the paper was thicker and heavier, slightly yellower, as if not of such a good quality as the letters written by the High Lords. And the seal…

You’d seen that seal before, on papers and documents and maps in Rhys’ own study. On plans for war, and peace, and alliances.

The seal of Hybern.

You felt sick. Your hands trembled as you reached forward, picking up that letter with cold fingers. It couldn’t be - he couldn’t have been in communication with Hybern. But then again, he was different. Under the Mountain had changed him, as it had you.

The letter was unopened, and it wouldn’t be difficult to melt the wax seal enough to crack it from the parchment and discover the secrets that the envelope held inside.

“Snooping doesn’t suit you, Y/N.”

You cringed at the sultry purr that sounded from the door, one that told you the bearer knew exactly what you were up to. You dropped the letter to the desk as if it disinterested you.

“And eavesdropping doesn’t suit you, Ianthe,” you countered. You smirked, baring your teeth. “But then again, you are a snake, so perhaps I’m wrong.”

Her robes swayed, swishing against the floor as she stepped into the room, coming right to the other side of the desk, leaning over to pick up the unopened letter from Hybern. She studied it carefully, her teal eyes flickering to you. “I knew my new friends would be getting in contact,” she said with no large amount of subtlety in the victory of her tone. “I’ll let Tamlin know their letter has arrived.”

“Why would you have any contact with Hybern?” You asked, face a stone-mask, your own voice untelling of what you felt - the pure dread. “Why would Tamlin?”

Ianthe’s eyes flashed as she realised my knowledge of what was to come stretched a far larger breadth than she had first realised, but her face remained pinched, those plump, perfect lips curled into a cruel smile. “For Feyre, of course.” She flicked her golden hair over her shoulder, the blue of her hood covering the wavy locks as they fell down her back. “Tamlin will want to know every possible angle, and Hybern can help. Surely you’d want that too, Y/N?”

You swallowed once. “Of course I do, Ianthe.” A feigned smile.

But you knew only one thing in that moment - you had to contact the Night Court.

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crinkled-emotions · 2 years ago

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2022 Wrapped (almost 2 weeks late)

Hi everyone!

2022 was... fucked, BUT apparently I wrote a lot of fic!

Let me do what I usually do and seperate it per fandom, because apparently I have a little type A in me.

My AO3 is CallMeG, which is where you can find all of these fics!

I only posted a couple of 9-1-1 fics this year, but that’s mainly because I ran out of writing steam pretty early in the year (read: January). I know we say we don’t do it for the comments or the reblogs or the love, but it definitely helps and I was feeling really discouraged. So, here we go;

Tides

Buck has fears about being on Eddie's will if anything were to happen to him.

Or,

Ed Sheeran's "Tides" if I let Buck do what he wanted.

(Before I Save Someone Else) I Have to Save Myself

The radio sitting on a nearby plastic table crackled to life. “…come in incident response…” Buck’s eyebrows shot up at the same time Bobby grabbed the radio. “Come in dispatch.” “This is Eddie Diaz, come in incident response.” OR The dispatch fire fic everyone's writing.

Breakfast in Bed

Eddie has three options; 1? He can roll over and go back to sleep. With a preteen and a toddler, it's definitely desirable. 2? If he can just... roll Buck over a little... one of his favourite things is a sleepy blowjob. It's a good option, it's been a little while. Or... ooh, a third option? He's new! Option three it is...Eddie has three options; 1? He can roll over and go back to sleep. With a preteen and a toddler, it's definitely desirable. 2? If he can just... roll Buck over a little... one of his favourite things is a sleepy blowjob. It's a good option, it's been a little while. Or... ooh, a third option? He's new! Option three it is...

I was surprised at how quickly I fell in love with the original Top Gun in June, and then how fast I adored Top Gun: Maverick in July when I saw it for the first time... and the second. The third was New Year’s Eve, I watched both movies back to back and I have no regrets.

I started writing for Top Gun: Maverick around the time I lost my pop, who had been a big influence on my childhood, so it was a way to cope and it has continued to help me heal. I’m just so glad people have enjoyed the fics!

Let’s get on to the list!

(Swimming) In the Floods

Rooster was fine for the first twenty-four hours after he got home. He had a hot shower, he hugged Maverick, Phoenix told him he was the biggest dumbass and then kissed his forehead.

Then things... things got a little dark.

Daderick

He skedaddled out the door at lightning speed, a blur of aviator sunglasses and pornstache. Amelia muttered traitor under her breath and Maverick sent her a look. God, why couldn’t Rooster have done this when he was a kid? Then at least Mav would know how to deal with it. The worst he’d done involved a bottle of vodka and a piano- Story for another time.

Truth or Dare

Get a couple of drinks into them and the Navy's best Naval Aviators turn into teenagers. OR How Bob found out once upon a time, Rooster and Phoenix did a thing. Also, Hangman might have a crush. But that's between him and his right hand.

The Prequel

or,

Rooster and Phoenix had sex, then it got awkward. Hangman is being Hangman, and Halo can't stop laughing.

... Baby One More Time

Phoenix's sixth sense is knowing when something's wrong with someone in her team. or, Rooster goes down with a stomach bug and the rest of the team try to work with it, around it, and, when it all gets too hard, they call in backup.

The Ache

"I saw your post about the fic ideas and I was thinking of 2 for Top Gun: Maverick.

One where Rooster gets a head injury. Nothing to worry about, or so he thinks😏"

Rooster is an idiot. An idiot with everyone's best interests in mind, but he's still an idiot.

Top Chicago

1 2 3 4 5 6

How Rooster ended up in Chicago, Maverick isn't 100% sure. What he is certain of, however, is that Bradley is hurt. And he needs him. OR A Chicago PD/Med and Top Gun: Maverick crossover.

(And I Can’t) Breathe

1 2

"Number two is just kind of a classic sickfic idea. I was thinking like everyone is a bit sick, and then just as they all get over it, Rooster starts sniffles, a small cough here and there. No one takes any notice" - Tumblr anon, aka my favourite person right now

"Hey! What about a chest infection fic?" - someone in my first TGM sickfic comments. Also my favourite person right now.

G Stretches Her Fingers (Completed Tumblr Prompts)

There are 16 fics there so far plus the ones I haven’t put there lmao, I’m not going to post every chapter. It’s purely sickfics.

Assholes (and all things doctors aren’t supposed to be)

Rooster is very, very unwell, however he also has one fear that will make him crumble to his knees. It's up to Maverick to get him to the doctor. When it doesn't go to plan, Phoenix and an unlikely source provide support

Red Desert (heal our blues)

Bob knew he was sick before he went to the Hard Deck with the rest of the team. When Hangman is the only one sober enough to help him out, he's expecting the worst.

Daggers (in Firefighter Uniforms)

When Maverick realises his team is struggling after the mission where he nearly died (again) and Rooster refuses to get into his jet, he makes the decision to ask a favour from an old friend.

Bobby Nash is more than happy to oblige, allowing the Dagger Squad into Firehouse 118. Most of his team are on board.

Oh, and Hangman would probably flirt with a wall if someone left him alone too long.

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taliaaurora · 3 years ago

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I'm Still In Love With You

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Warning: mention of death and grief, injury, surgery.

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested: okay a great request idea, you are Hallie's best friend who is a doctor and just moved back to Chicago after her death. You and Matt run into each other at Med and want to catch up later until Gabby interferes saying you bring up too much pain of Hallie in Matt and to stay away. You avoid him until he questions what is up and admits he loves you. Maybe this could be a mini-series

A/N: Sorry for not making this a mini-series, anon, but I'm already working on two series right now :( English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy this one-shot! 💖🦋

Sitting in the break room, you watched the steam come out of your mug as you stirred the coffee. As a half-smile appeared on your face, you remembered the times you and Hallie spent in this room, gossiping about the other doctors and your partners. You experienced many things together, especially because you started your residencies at the same time. You missed her, a lot.

When Hallie told you that she was leaving Med and was going to open a small clinic with other doctors, she wanted you to go with her. You considered the idea but ended up not taking her offer, you had a promising future at Med as a trauma surgeon.

For a long time, your mind wondered how things would be if you had left Med with her. You would have spent more time together, maybe things would've turned out differently, maybe she would still be alive.

Shaking your head, you tried to send those thoughts away. Deep down you knew that nothing would change what happened, all you had to do was accept and move on.

But moving on was harder than you imagined. When Hallie died you felt terrible, she was like a sister to you. But you knew you weren't the only one going through this, Matt was suffering too. You mourned together, giving each other a shoulder to cry on, assuring each other that everything would be okay.

Due to your friendship with Hallie, Matt became your friend too. But something changed after Hallie's death. Over time, you noticed how your heart skipped a beat every time your eyes met, how your hugs lasted longer than usual. You realized that you were falling in love with Matt, and it made you sick. It was like you were cheating on your best friend who just died, and that was wrong.

You had gotten used to working at Med without her presence, but it was different. She wasn't at another clinic, she was dead. Every time you walked in front of Hallie's favorite coffee shop or when walked out of a long, exhausting shift without getting a message from her inviting you for a drink, you felt a terrible pain in your chest. Adding that to the fact that you fell in love with her fiance, you realized you couldn't live in Chicago anymore. You needed time and space to heal that wound, and you couldn't do it here. So you left, living in Atlanta for three years.

Now that you were back, you could say you were healed. You no longer cried when someone mentioned Hallie's name, a fond smile appeared on your face instead.

As soon as you finished your coffee, you stretched your arms and legs and left the room, ready to face the rest of the shift.

"Dr. Y/L/N! We need you in the ER." Maggie called, running in your direction.

Rushing to the emergency room, you saw the paramedics carefully transporting a patient from one stretcher to another.

"What do we have here?" You asked the paramedics while you used the stethoscope to hear the patient's heartbeat.

"Firefighter, shot in the back of the head. The bullet is still lodged." The paramedic responded, breathing heavily.

"Okay. Maggie, get Dr. Halstead. We gotta move him to the surgery room, now!" You shouted, pushing the stretcher with the help of the nurses.

After four hours of surgery, you discarded your gloves and got out of your medical gown. Approaching the waiting room, you saw the large group of firefighters filling the room. Your already tired eyes met those blue eyes you fell in love with years ago.

As you stepped inside the room, everyone stood up and one of the firefighters rushed towards you.

"Dr. Y/L/N, how is he?" the man asked.

Looking at his uniform, you noticed his name was Cruz. You licked your lips and took a deep breath.

"Well...The good news is that we were able to extract the bullet." You replied, looking around at the firefighters. "But since the bullet hit his spine, he may have suffered some collateral damage. We don't know yet, and we won't have the answer until he wakes up. The only thing we can do is wait."

Matt walked over to Cruz and patted him on the shoulder, telling him that Otis would be fine.

"Y/N?" Matt asked, receiving a nod from you in return. "Can we talk for a minute?"

If you said the question took you by surprise, you would be lying. You knew that at one time or another you would run into each other and he would ask why you left.

"Yeah...sure." You replied, curving your lips slightly.

Leading him to a corner in the hospital corridor, you leaned on the wall and crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak.

"When did you come back?" He asked, frowning.

"A couple of weeks ago."

Nodding in understanding, Matt shoved his hands in his pockets and licked his lips.

"Why don't we go out for coffee when our shifts are over? We can catch up." He suggested.

"Of course, I would love that." You smiled.

"Matt!" One of the female paramedics from earlier walked up to him. "Truck's leaving, they're waiting for you."

"Yeah, right." Matt nodded his head and stepped forward, embracing you in a warm hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. See you." You responded, hugging him back.

Matt jogged back to the front of the hospital, but the paramedic stayed behind.

"Can I give you a piece of advice?" She asked.

Cocking your head to the side, you frowned.

"Casey won't admit this...but he's still grieving Hallie's death." She stepped forward, keeping a small distance from you. "I know you mean well. But the truth is...you remind him of Hallie, and every time he looks at you, all that pain comes rushing back."

"What are you trying to say?" You asked, raising your brows.

"If you care about him, stay away from him. Trust me, it's the best thing you can do for him right now." Giving you a wink, she turned around and left.

After listening to those words, you bit the inside of your cheek and sent Matt a text.

"Sorry, but something came up. We'll have to reschedule."

You remembered how terrible you used to feel when someone mentioned Hallie's name. You remembered that pain in your chest and how desperately you wanted it to go away. If you were bringing Matt this type of pain then you were willing to keep a distance, even if it breaks your heart.

-/-/-

As you entered Molly's for the first time, you noticed how packed the bar was. You weren't fond of crowded places, but you promised Will that you would meet him for a beer after the shift.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turned around and met his smile.

"I'm so glad you came!" Will wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lead you to his table.

"I'm happy I did. You were right, this place looks great!" You smiled, taking a seat across from Will.

After a few beers and lots of laughter, you felt your body getting tired and decided it was time to go home. Saying goodbye to Will, you threw your purse over your shoulder and walked out of the bar.

Before you could call for a cab, you heard someone calling your name.

"Hey." Matt said as he approached you. Standing in front of you, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his feet. He felt like a teenager in love every time he saw you.

"Hey." You smiled.

"Is everything okay? You didn't respond to any of my texts."

Taking a deep breath, you licked your lips and nodded.

"Yeah, I just- I've been really busy lately so..." As you trailed off you kept your gaze on the floor, avoiding his blue eyes.

"Are you sure that's all?" He stepped forward, breaking the distance between you. "You can talk to me, you know that."

Bringing a hand under your chin, he lifted your face so you could look into his eyes. As he did so, the sight in front of him broke his heart, tears were running down your cheeks while your lower lip trembled.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" He whispered, frowning.

Shaking your head, you licked your lips and met his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Matt." You whispered back. "I really miss you...but I don't want to bring you any more pain."

"What? What makes you think that?"

Matt tried to make sense of your words, but he failed. Cupping your face, he used his thumbs to wipe off your tears.

"I know I remind you of Hallie..." You whispered, noticing the tears shimmering in his eyes.

Matt shook his head and licked his lips.

"You don't remind me of Hallie. The only pain you might cause me is when you push me away, as you did years ago and as you're doing now."

"I never meant to hurt you." Looking into his eyes, you found the courage to tell him the truth. "I only pushed you away because I was falling in love with you."

"Was that a bad thing?"

"Yes, it was! You were engaged, Matt-"

"No, I wasn't." He interrupted you.

The confession got you confused. Cocking your head to the side, you waited for him to continue.

"My relationship with Hallie had fallen apart way before she died. We loved each other, but we weren't in love anymore. She called off the engagement." He explained.

You were speechless. You had no idea that they weren't together when she died.

"I was in love with you too." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "I still am."

As you let out a shaky breath, a short laugh fell past your lips. "You are?" You whispered, smiling.

Matt brushed his lips over yours and kissed you gently, answering your question. You kissed him back, pouring all your love. As he deepened the kiss, Matt explored your mouth with his tongue and grabbed you by the waist, bringing your body even closer to his.

Breaking the kiss so you could catch your breath, you wrapped your arms around his neck and giggled.

"C'mon, let's take this to my place." Matt suggested, placing a light kiss on top of your head.

Want to join my tag list? You can request it here! 🦋

Matt Casey tag list: @dedlund82 @drakelover78 @mrspeacem1nusone @graniairish @junevoidzombie@unknowntoyou2205 @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @sunflowergurl98

#matt casey #matt casey x reader #chicago fire #one chicago #one chicago x reader #chicago fire x reader #matt casey fanfic #matt casey imagens

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said.

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said.

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip.

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some.

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled.

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said.

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said.

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?”

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close.

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down.

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ.

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ.

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow.

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you.

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly.

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said.

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt.

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together.

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you?

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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acdeaky · 4 years ago

Text

(felt your arms) holding me

warning: mentions/descriptions of nightmares, mentions of blood and death, implications of PTSD, fluff

note: this was meant to be my other submission for @celestialbarnes’ 4k writing challenge, but my brain decided to finish this one first and ignore my original idea (but that will still come your way!) i chose the prompt ‘bed’ and dialogue 9 ‘“was it the nightmares again?” “no” “you suck at lying”’ congrats again, rachel! and enjoy 🤍

read my other submission here!

word count: 2.0k

all that rung through the scarce lobby of your hotel was yours and bucky’s laughs. his arm thrown over your shoulders as yours was wrapped around his waist, your left hand reaching over your body to rest on his chest.

your façade of a happily married couple fooled everyone you’d met since the mission began; the hotel clerks and customers, the targets, even people on the street. they all seemed to take one look at you and believe the act the two of you had been putting on for two days.

the only time it faltered was as soon as you walked through the hotel room door, bucky’s arm leaving your body as if he was scared of invading your personal space. even after spending all day and night by each other’s sides he was still scared of overstepping that invisible boundary he’d put there himself.

everything worked like clockwork after the soft sounds of the lock clicking into place sounded through the room: bucky would remove his blazer, grabbing himself a drink while you slid into the bathroom, nightwear in hand. he’d allow you the bathroom first, for as long as you wanted, occupying his time by either drinking the aged whiskey in the room’s mini bar or cleaning inbetween the ridges of his vibranium arm.

you’d walk out some time later, the remains of the steam from your shower following after you. bucky would give you a smile before standing and grabbing his nightwear, repeating your earlier actions. he’d come out only a little while later, finding you curled in the chair by the desk, your eyes scanning and reading over the report for the day.

“it’s late, doll, don’t spend too long on that.” he chastised, stepping over to your side to place a delicate kiss on your temple. like usual, whenever bucky was even close to you, your heart fluttered, your hand so desperately wanting to reach out and grab his own.

but you refrained, knowing that saying something now would change things: you didn’t want that just yet. staying in this little bubble was enough.

before you even had the chance to look up and reply to him, bucky was already laid along the sofa, a blanket thrown across his lower half. he, himself, had papers in his hands, reading over earlier reports from days before.

“don’t be too late.” you teased a few moments later after dropping your pen and making your way over to the bed. bucky glanced over at you, smiling lightly as he watched you climb under the sheets, wanting to be there next to you. “night buck.”

“g’night, doll.” came his response as the lights switched off. the papers in his hands fell onto the floor just before he closed his eyes, mind wandering back to the first day of the mission.

as much as you’d love to pretend it didn’t, the view of only one bed in the middle of the room made your heart drop. of course; it made sense that you and bucky, a happily married couple, would need a room with only one bed. but you didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to make bucky even more uncomfortable than you thought he already was.

you didn’t think anything could make this situation better, but you knew there was no possibility of bucky sleeping next to you each night you’d be there; he rarely slept in his own bed.

bucky followed into the room after you, not even registering the situation as he dropped your bags onto the ottoman against the end of the bed. he looked towards you and saw the slight worry etched into your features, immediately worried at whatever was wrong.

“hey, what’s up?” he asked, gentle as ever, a hand wanting to reach out towards you, but unsure as to how to interact.

“there- there’s only one bed,” you spoke, watching as bucky’s eyes widened slightly and turned away from you. “i mean- it’s not a problem, i just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and i’m sure we can work something out-”

“i’ll sleep on the couch, it’s fine, doll.” he smiled, toothless and unsure, but determined to settle your mind.

“bucky, no, i can’t make you do that.”

“you’re not, it’s okay, really.” his little smile came again, hoping to reassure you - it didn’t.

the both of you knew it was no use; bucky was as stubborn as anything and wouldn’t allow you to give up any of your comfort for his own. and so, bucky found himself sleeping on the sofa for the first two nights. for him, it was better than the floor (like he was used to), and better than the all too soft mattress which laid underneath you.

bucky wanted more, you wanted more.

you wanted to reach out and touch his soul, wrap your healing hands around his heart and never let go until he was healed. you wanted that physical touch, whispering quiet affirmations into his ear as you held him tight against your chest, the beating of your heart killing him to sleep as you allowed his steady breathing to help you.

and bucky, bucky wanted to reach out to you, let his incoherent rambling fall onto your listening ears as you returned nods and calming smiles. he wanted you to listen, to understand, to give him everything he’s ever wanted from you. although it wasn’t much, there was something from you he craved and he was willing to go to the ends of the earth.

it can’t have been late when you heard the familiar sounds of the sofa groaning under the shift of bucky’s weight, the blanket hitting the floor and finally footsteps from one side of the room to the window.

he had to have been awake for a little while, tossing and turning on the cushions before deciding to actually get up. he rarely does that, usually managing to settle himself. but tonight was different, clearly, and something bad truly shaken him.

“was it the nightmares again?” you whispered into the darkened room, the only light coming from the moon shining through the thin transparent curtains.

“no.” came his reply many moments later as bucky ended his debate on whether to tell you the truth or not.

“you suck at lying.” was all you replied, pulling the white sheets from your body as you shifted to the edge of the bed.

even with the minimal light, you managed to make your way over to bucky. he was sat on one of the chairs facing the large opening doors to the balcony, watching the city continue flourishing through the gap of material, even in the early hours of the morning.

with little thought, your hands rested on his tense shoulders, barely registering the lack of the t-shirt he wore to sleep earlier. there was a shaky breath that escaped him, but other than that bucky stayed silent. his eyes remained focused on the view, mind attempting to concentrate on something that wasn’t your soft, yet skilled, hands erasing the knots from his shoulders.

“are you going to tell me the truth soon?” you asked after a few minutes, almost scared that bucky had fallen asleep sat up and all that holding him was your delicate hands.

there still came no reply, but you could feel his shoulders shaking with the silent, heavy breath he exhaled. so you left the conversation, opting to walking around to the front of the chair to lend your hand instead.

he placed his left hand in your own, allowing you to pull him up from his seat and lead him over to the bed. as much as his mind was telling him no, he couldn’t refuse your offer of laying with you, sheets wrapped around your bodies as you attempted to fall asleep again.

as you climbed into your side, bucky was hesistent, taking a convincing pat on the sheets from you for him to finally make up his mind. even as he laid down on his back, he was stiff, almost motionless under the sheets as he tried not to unconsciously shuffle closer to you.

but you weren’t like that; you lazily rolled onto your side, facing bucky as you shuffled closer to his body, his warmth.

a shy hand reached out to touch his left bicep, grabbing bucky’s attention as he felt a touch as soft as clouds on his vibranium arm. something he’d never felt, never experienced, and it almost startled you how quickly his head snapped to the side to look at you.

“is this okay?” your voice was quiet and you motioned towards where your hand was placed, watching in bucky’s eyes for any sign on discomfort or worry; there wasn’t any. though, all he could reply was a curt nod. his body remained motionless. his head fixed in its place watching you.

once he let you know he was okay, you became more confident. it only took a second for you to shuffle even closer to bucky, your body practically flush with his side as your free hand grabbed his left one, lacing your fingers together.

“is this still okay?” and once again, he could only nod, his eyes still fixed on yours as he watched them twinkle in the moonlight.

“what happens? in your nightmares; what happens?” the hand over his bicep moved to his chest, running over his smooth skin in an attempt to calm him down.

“too much.” was all he replied.

“what happened tonight?”

“you,” it was short, but you could imagine what was coming next. “you died, and i couldn’t save you. you were laid in my arms, in the pretty dress you wore last night, blood staining everything. you were dying in my arms, doll, and all i could do was sit and watch.”

even with the falter in his voice, neither of you broke eye contact, keeping your eyes fixed on his for as long as he would let you before you would, eventually, have to look away. but he didn’t pull back, and so you didn’t. he spoke openly, honestly, letting you in to another piece of his mind which he only showed a few people.

“don’t think about that anymore,” you whispered, “think about how i’m here, alive, in your arms, living and breathing with that dress unstained in the wardrobe.”

the hand that once rested on his chest shifted upwards, moving to cover bucky’s cheek and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen. your gaze dropped from his eyes for a second, down to his lips and back. if he noticed, he didn’t say anything, just inhaling a shaky breath.

you let your right hand leave bucky’s left, unlacing your fingers before using your other hand to guide his arm around your shoulders. the chill of the vibranium sent little shocks down your skin, but it was a nice contrast to the warmth of his chest.

the front of your body pressed closer into his side, shifting your body to allow your cheek to rest against his pec, his heart beating away right under your ear.

a deep sigh left bucky, his chest rising and falling quickly as he allowed himself a moment to realise what was happening. you were there, skin to skin against him, happily laid with his arm wrapped around your body.

“i care about you, buck, more than you like to think,” your whispered confession came. “i have done for a while, and how i feel about you isn’t how i feel about everyone else.”

it took a moment for bucky to reply. he allowed your words to sink in, to resonate with him for a moment before even thinking of what to say. you’d told him how you feel, how you’ve felt for a long time, in a way he understood, a way he could comprehend.

“i care about you, too.”

taglist (for people who i think might enjoy this): @forever-rogue @buvky @buckys-darling @barnessupremacy @wallflowerbarnes @bvckysmoon @gryffindorwriter @nev3rfound @aerynwrites

bucky taglist: @marvel-rhapsody @bloomingbucky

#celestialbarnes's 4k writing challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #tfatws!bucky #tfatws!bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #x reader #acdeaky

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years ago

Text

As The Snowflakes Fall

Part 6

12/25/2021

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sarah (ofc)

Word Count: 2,567

Warnings: rpf, language, arguing, the fluffiest fluff

Summary: After spending the night with Sarah, Chris awakes to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: This is it. I hope you enjoyed the ride. If you did, since it's Christmas, you might consider sharing your thoughts on my story by dropping a comment. It would mean the world.

Song to go with this chapter: Found Love by Jon Buster Cottam

I guess we all know that I don't hold the copyright for this picture. 😉

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Christmas Day, 2020

Looking back, it might have been a good idea to ring the doorbell, but when Scott arrived at his brother’s house that Christmas morning, he had no idea of the chain of events he would set loose when he turned the spare key in the lock. The sky had just turned a light shade of orange and blue and he was sure Chris was still sound asleep. And given he had told their mom the truth and he really was ill, who was he to disturb the deep healing sleep of the sick?

Donning his face mask just in case, Scott stepped inside without making the slightest noise. But of course he couldn’t deceive the sensitive ears of his brother’s best friend, and so he wasn’t surprised in the least when Dodger rounded the corner only seconds later.

“Hey, buddy,” he greeted the excited ball of fur that sprang around his legs. “Is Chris up already as well?”

And as if the universe was granting him an answer on Dodger’s behalf, the soft splashing of the shower started to fill the silence.

“Oh, I see,” Scott smirked down at the expectant dog that sat to his feet now as an evil plan started to form in his mind. Sick or not, this was the perfect opportunity to finally get back at his brother for scaring the shit out of him with his last prank attack. It wouldn’t hurt to get his pump running a bit, he thought. And besides that, as a fellow actor, he would probably appreciate the little tribute to a Hitchcock classic, wouldn’t he? Well, maybe not in the moment itself, but after the shock had settled it would surely go down as the most creative battle in the history of their prank wars.

“Sh.” A finger pressed to his lips, he signalled Dodger to stay put before he tiptoed through the hallway. In slow motion, his hand pressed down the handle of the bathroom door and slid it open inch by inch. It seemed, his brother hadn’t noticed a thing as the shower kept running. He could already taste the sweet flavour of victory on his tongue when he finally jumped into the steam-filled room and yelled his brother’s name at the top of his lungs.

Chris woke with an unexpected feeling of contentment inside of him. He had felt a similar kind of satisfaction on other occasions before, but never in the intensity and purity it held this morning. And then he remembered.

With a sigh he turned, expecting to find the newly discovered warmth of her body in the spot right next to him, but all that was left of her presence was the faint note of her cinnamon scent and the lukewarm outline of her form on the mattress. A little concerned, he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to take in the room. A wave of relieve washed over him when, despite the dim light, he made out her clothes still lying in front of the cold fireplace.

With a thud, he fell back onto his pillow, grinning like an idiot at the prospect of resuming what they had started last night as soon as she would find her way back to bed. A swarm of butterflies was swirling through his belly when he recalled the feeling of her smooth skin underneath his fingertips, the way she was so responsive to his touch and kisses. Oh, those honeyed kisses. He would steal loads and loads of those during and in between their lovemaking, for which, luckily, they had a whole day of undisturbed togetherness on their hands.

He had just closed his eyes again upon the delicious prospect, when an earthshaking scream disrupted his musings with force. In an instant he was up on his feet, still a little wobbly after just waking up, but determined as never before to get to her. The hot rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, he followed her panicked voiced as he stumbled towards the bathroom. And what he found there drained all blood from his head in an instant.

Over by the shower stood Sarah, a towel pressed to her very naked and very wet body while a masked man who looked an awful lot like his idiot brother covered his eyes and stumbled backwards towards the door, a litany of apologies falling frantically from his mouth.

“Scott?” he yelled in disbelief as he hurried to get over to her and shield her from his brother’s view. “What the shit are you doing here?”

“Chris?” Scott lowered his hand and he couldn’t hide the small hint of relief that broke through his guilt-ridden expression for a split-second upon seeing his older brother. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. We were worried about you.”

“And so you decided to break into my house?”

“I have a key, remember?” He dangled the silvery object in the air. “So it’s technically not breaking in. Plus, none of this would have happened if you had just picked up your bloody phone yesterday.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now that you scared the shit out of my girl?”

“I’m sorry for that. I truly am.” He looked over at Sarah’s horrified face behind Chris’ shoulder before he turned his attention back to the furious and irritatingly naked man in front of her. “But how was I supposed to know there was someone with you? It’s not the usual thing you’d expect when someone says he has, I quote, ‘suspicious symptoms’.”

“Scott!”

How dare he bring that up in front of Sarah? After all, she was never supposed to find out that he lied to his family to be with her on Christmas.

“What?”

Chris winced upon the immediate hurt the single word that had fallen from her lips held, but instead of staying silent, his brother was eager to push the dagger in deeper.

“He called two days ago, cancelling his Christmas visit because he allegedly had Covid symptoms.”

“You did what now?”

Inhaling deeply, Chris’ eyes fell shut for a second.

“Scott, a little privacy would be very much appreciated right now.”

“Sure, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Softly the door closed behind him and they were alone.

“Are you okay?” Chris spun around, grabbing her shoulders and searching her eyes intently.

“What sort of a question is that? Of course I’m not okay. Leaving aside that your brother just saw me naked, you lied not only to me but to your family.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but I just didn’t have the heart to let you spend Christmas alone.”

He knew as soon as the words had left his mouth that he had gotten himself even deeper into trouble. “So this is my fault then?” she spat, her initial confusion slowly turning into anger.

“No. No! That’s not what I wanted to say.” “Then what did you want to say? That you pitied me, your poor, emotionally unstable neighbour, and sacrificed the family Christmas you were probably very much looking forward to to fulfil your Christian duty of charity?”

“No, that’s not— I didn’t feel sorry for you.” She shot him a furious look that left no doubt about the fact that she saw right through his bullshit. “Well, maybe I did, a little. But—”

“Fuck you, Chris.”

In a fit of rage she slapped his hands away and stomped past him into the bedroom. He hurried after her, panic rising in his chest again and drawing the air from his lungs as he found her gathering up her clothes.

“Pity is the last thing I need. Not even if it comes in the form of a pity fuck as mind-blowing as the one last night.”

Turning her back on him, her towel pooled around her ankles as she began to slip on her underwear.

“Hey! Will you please stop and listen?”

But his words had no effect whatsoever. Still not sparing him a single look, shaky fingers were pulling up the straps of her bra and he knew he was about to lose her if he wouldn’t find the courage to be honest with her soon. And before he knew what was going on, he had walked over to her and found his fingers closing around her wrists.

“Stop! Please.”

And when she finally did and looked up at him, the tears that were welling up in her eyes broke his heart.

“I didn’t give up Christmas with my family for you. At least not because I pitied you.” He took a deep breath as he collected himself to muster the strength he would need to tell her the truth. “I did it because I wanted to be with you.”

“Call it whatever you want.” Her voice was quiet and vulnerable now, the furious rage gone completely. “Pity is still pity. Even if you change the point of view.”

“It’s NOT pity.” Chris sighed in frustration. Why didn’t she want to understand? “Sarah, what I’m trying to tell you is that I wanted to be with you on Christmas because…because I’m in love with you.”

Silence settled over the room, and he could feel the weight of the uncertainty of its meaning constricting his chest.

“You’re…” she stammered the beginning of a question he was more than eager to answer.

“In love with you, yes. Madly and irrevocably.”

Again she pulled out of his grip, but this time she didn’t flee his presence. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a stormy kiss. He could taste the salty bitterness of her tears that had been threatening to fall during their argument, but soon they mixed with something else, something so sweet that it washed away the panic he had felt in an instant and made him whole again.

“That’s not fair,” she whined against his lips. “How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you say something like that?”

He leaned back a little to get a better look at her.

“Oh, you were mad? I almost couldn’t tell through all the yelling and cursing.”

With a whimper her head dove down into the crook of his neck to hide her flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

The sheer cuteness of her muffled apology made him chuckle.

“Don’t be.” Tenderly his hands found her heated cheeks to make her look at him again. “When being mad at me always leads to a kiss like that, I’m sure I will think of a way to make you mad again in the near future.”

Gently, he pulled her face against his until their lips met again, softer this time, but just as breathtaking as before.

“I really wish my brother wasn’t waiting for us in the kitchen right now,” he gasped between two breaths.

“Really? And why is that?”

Another delighted chuckled rumbled through his chest upon her mischievous tone and he couldn’t help but press a featherlight kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Because,” he paused as his fingers set out to caress the silky spot underneath her left breast, “I haven’t had a chance to say a proper good morning to Winnie the Pooh yet.”

She giggled upon his naughty insinuation, making his heart jump with joy and he knew that this year, it would be a merry Christmas indeed.

Christmas Day, 2021

A cheeky ray of sunlight tickled her nose as it used the tiny gap between the curtains to wake her from her slumber. It was cozy and warm in their little nest, pressed up against his body by a fuzzy arm that was clutched around her middle, determined to keep her close by. He was still fast asleep judging from the soft snores that came from behind her back and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

On any other morning, nothing could have made her leave his side. But this just wasn’t any ordinary morning. It was Christmas morning and there was something she had to see with her own eyes. So, as carefully as she could, she wound out of the safety of his embrace and pushed the sheets off her bare form. A violent shiver shook her body, goosebumps pebbling her skin as the crisp morning air engulfed her.

The urge to abandon her mission and curl herself up in the heat of his body was strong, and yet she stood up, setting one foot in front of the other on the plush carpet to make her way over to the window. Slowly she pushed one of the curtains aside just a tad and she almost squealed in excitement when she found a thick blanket of snow covering the meadow and glistening in the early morning sun.

After days and days of grey skies and never-ending snowfall, the clouds had finally disappeared. And as much as she loved watching the thick snowflakes tumble silently from the sky, she had hoped they would stop, so Chris could finally make do on his promise to build a snowman in the meadow with her. A new shiver ran across her body as a thrill of anticipation took hold of her.

“Honey, come back to bed,” a raspy morning voice broke her moment of bliss. “It’s freezing. Pooh will catch a cold.”

As always, his dorky remark worked its magic and she found herself walking back to him with a placid smile on her lips.

“And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

His deep chuckle was stifled immediately when she lifted the covers and slid against his body.

“Jesus, Elsa, you’re colder than an icicle.”

She giggled as she let him pull her back against his chest.

“Yeah, speaking of Elsa, it has finally stopped snowing. And you know what that means.”

“No,” he whined, “don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”

Technically, she wouldn’t really say it and since he hadn’t said anything about singing…

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Alright, alright,” he surrendered. “As long as you’ll stop singing and let me warm up Pooh a little longer.”

She could feel his hand move along her stomach until it found her breast. Tenderly, his large hand cupped the ample globe and gave it a light squeeze.

“You know Pooh is a little further down, right?”

“Are you sure?” he feigned innocence. “I could’ve sworn he was up here.”

Good thing he was cute, she thought, and so she let his hand rest in the spot he had chosen for it and continued watching the pristine snow shimmering like a million diamonds in the rising sun. And just when she thought the morning couldn’t get any better, he pulled her closer, his lips softly pressing against her ear.

“I love you.”

And there it was again, the same warm and comforting feeling she had felt in his arms for the first time almost exactly a year ago. It had never left her since that night, but in moments like these, it flowed freely from her heart until it had filled her to the brim. And it was here, in the warmth of his loving embrace, that she was blessed with the overwhelming realisation that running away from her old life had actually been running towards the life that had always been waiting for her.

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @littleone65 @thoughtfullyfurryangel @diegos-butt @traceyaudette @hockeychick10 @mrsblueeyeevans

#chris evans rpf #chris evans x ofc #chris evans #chris evans x reader #as the snowflakes fall #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

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blue-bird-kny · 4 years ago

Text

This took way to many days to write for absolutely no reason, but I liked it in the end so please, enjoy~Amanda

Warnings: N/a

Words: 2.4k+

↳{Fluffy first baths together are nothing short of what you’d expect with Inosuke}

The gentle pitter-patter of water droplets drizzling down bamboo shoots and swaying green leaves filled the otherwise quiet space. The welcoming scent of dew and greenery danced through the night air as you overlooked the outdoor bathing area, “absolutely perfect” you thought as your muscles cried in despair. You, along with your team of idiots and sweet Nezuko, had walked miles in search of a home bearing the Wisteria crest, everyone in desperate need of some rest, repair, and (hopefully) lots of delicious food. “Come in, young child, as weary as you may be, your body needs food to begin the healing process” a grainy voice beckoned. An elderly woman, just barely 5 feet wrapped in purple with shimmering silver hair, waited patiently beside the open door, “I think my husband was too excited to greet you all because he got carried away and made far too much food” she continued. “Oh don’t worry, my boys are very capable of eating you out of house and home, especially my boyfriend” you giggled while climbing the wooden steps to meet her.

You walked side by side to the dining room, the smell of beef stew and rice already reaching you, “Thanks again, to you and your husband, we’ve spent weeks running around and I know we desperately needed the break” she chuckled, “No need child, my husband misses the thrill of battle even in his old age, so we are thrilled to have you.” your eyes widened slightly but before you could ask the shorter woman of her husband's past, a loud crash could be heard behind the thin sliding door. Behind its papery protection was a scene that couldn’t be anymore hilarious; wrestling on the floor was an older man, thick and burley with round rims sliding down the bump of his nose, hovering over a wailing Zenitsu whose body was being forced into a backbend with his head held tightly in a choke-hold by the man’s hairy arms. Tanjiro stood beside the duo desperately trying to pull his friend out from under the other, trying to talk over the hefty laughter and screaming, while Inosuke stood cheering the man on as if this were some sort of cage fight.

You could feel the twitch in your eye act up, ready to pull them apart but before you could open your mouth the elderly woman cleared her throat, causing the wild bunch to freeze. Her husband's eyes slowly fell on hers as fear overcame them and as for the other three, they couldn’t help but shiver at the dead set look on yours. “What’s going on here?” the women commanded, her steel set tone sending the group scrambling into seated positions as she prowled into the room- you followed slowly behind her. Tanjiro croaked first, “W-well Mr.Shimura was telling us about his days in the force and he just wanted to show us some of his, uh, moves'' Tanjiro's voice wavered a bit at the end, not sure if ‘moves’ was the right way to describe assault. “Y/n! Please don’t let this man torture me anymore, he’s crazy!” the blonde rushed to your side with teary eyes and a tight grip on your arm. The women pulled her large husband up by his ear, “Don’t worry, you children enjoy your food, my husband,” she tugged on the lobe for emphasis, “and I will be off to bed” she turned to you, “I assume you’ll be able to find the bathing area and your room?” “Of course” you assured. The moment the couple became shadows behind the door, you could hear the wife’s grumbling- you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Unsettled by the silence, you turned to find all eyes on you, waiting for a reprimand you had no intention of delivering, “Oh ease up, eat before the food gets cold'' a collective sigh could be heard around the table, your hand gentle releasing the part of Zenitsu that was still clinging your clothes. The spot open next to Inosuke was as inviting as the mouth-watering scent of a hot meal that had been calling your name since further down the hallways. Your fingers faintly fell on the tuft of your boyfriend's hair, ruffling them a bit, before diving into your own bowl of rice and soup. While Inosuke felt your small act of affection and craved it a bit more, he only offered a messy smile as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth.

Ceramic dishes once filled with hand-cooked deliciousness were now cleaned empty, stacked into small towers all across the wooden table in some sort of toppling city. The room was almost empty too, Zenitsu and Tanjiro both eager to wash the wear away and to finally allow themselves to be consumed by uninterrupted dreams, had already taken off for the night. “I’m going to die,” the bloated heap on the floor cried, his duo-toned hair sprawled out around him and his robe strewn on the ground. You laughed, “No, Inosuke, you aren’t going to die” you laid on the carpet beside him, propped up by one elbow. As the man heaved and sighed as if he were going into labor, your nose caught a whiff of something salty and musty and earthy and gross, “I swear if you don’t go shower right now, my eyes are going to melt from my skull” you complained nasally as you pinched your nostrils shut; You were met with only louder moaning and heaving. “C’mon everyone else already-” you stopped yourself short, an idea too good to pass up crossing your mind. “Since everyone else is already tucked away, why don’t we bath together?” before you could even finish the question, Inosuke sat up faster than light, his eyes challenging yours as if saying “Are you playing me?”. “We never get to do anything just us so if you're up for it, I’m down” you concluded slightly smug as he clung to each word you uttered like a puppy waiting for a treat. You stood to leave, crouching down once more to balance your fingers below his chin, forcing him to face you, “But, no funny business”.

You didn’t even have to look to see Inosuke was following, his second set of steps echoing yours as if they were the thunder that follows lighting; two things equally as powerful, yet relied on the other for strength. Again, you were greeted by the soft flow of water streaming into the natural spring, the brilliant moonlight above lighting the large basin carved from polished rock that sat in the middle of the space. “Turn around” you asked, to which Inosuke surprisingly compiled too with only a tiny grumble. You slid your filthy clothes off layer by layer, the black garments piled together as you tip-toed into the warm water, the steam instantly feeling irresistible on your skin. “I-I’ll close my eyes so you can get in, too” you stuttered, the heavy realization of the intimacy that was to come next, an intimacy that had never been shared before. “Whatever you want, we’ll be naked anyways in the water” Insouke pointed out as he too discarded his smaller pile onto yours, however, you didn’t dare peek before you heard the breaking of water as he climbed in, didn’t dare breathe as he groaned in relief. Slowly, you uncovered your eyes, trained steadily past the demon slayer's face; awkwardly and in unusual silence, you two sat five feet apart, waiting to see who dared to move first.

Well of course it was Inosuke who shuffled through the water first towards you, “You can look at me, ya know” he said with a sort of want in his voice, as if your gaze offered an approval he sought from only you. Whether the pink that painted his skin was from the temperature or the heat of the moment, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t dwell on it for long because other things piqued your interest. While the number of times you’ve seen Inosuke wear a shirt was almost non-existent, the steam rising from the water altered his scarred chest into something else; it was more chiseled, more tanned, each dip and mark was more perfect, the reflection below somehow glowed in a way that was more than you had every painted Inosuke to be and it took your breath away. “What are ya looking at?” he asked defensively, fidgeting in an almost timid way; it reminded you that you shouldn’t be nervous around him, “You, ya dummy”. He scoffed at your bluntness, grateful to hear the normal bite in your tongue instead of the disgust he feared you’d feel towards him. His stunning pair of green orbs watched as you leaned closer to him, arms stretched as you grew even closer, “What the hel-” he panicked slightly only to be fooled as you grabbed something that was behind him; two bottles waved in front of his face as you teased, “What? Afraid of some soap, piglet?”. He muttered a string of complaints, ‘tease’ and ‘mean’ being the only two you could work out.

You squeezed the white shampoo into your open palm, setting it down somewhere on the edge of the bath, “May I?” you asked, hovering your hands beside his head. He sucked on his teeth before mumbling a raspy “fine”, easing himself between your awaiting limbs. You worked the suds into his scalp, gently massaging his dark roots with the pads of your thumbs before working your way down to bunch his falling strands, lathering them in the floral-scented soap. As you worked to cover every last inch of his scalp in bubbles, Inosuke struggled to keep quiet; his half-lidded eyes fluttered with every circular rub, his mouth slightly agape as he relished in your touch and had to work at suppressing the purrs that threatened to escape his chest like a cat.

“Bend down a little, will ya” you pushed against his head till he was close enough to the water that when he tipped back, his long tresses would be covered. You rinsed his hair gently, taking your time to enjoy this rare chance with your loved one (along with the funny faces you knew he was making). Inosuke wanted to say something, anything would do really, but he just couldn’t put syllables together as if with every trail your fingers followed, you sucked away his ability to think. You had already rid his scalp from the soap, however, you weren’t ready to let go just yet; you ushered him out of the water so you could use your nails to push the soaked strands back, twirling them into a loose bun at the back of his head. Inosuke was so close, he was sure he’d make it out of this without any weird noises but the subtle scratching against his skin was too much for any man. A low rumble emerged from his throat followed by a relieved sigh, “If I knew all it took to tame this wild boar was a few head scratches, I’d have started a long time ago” you giggled, sliding your palms down the length of his neck to rest on his shoulders, “all done”. His brows furrowed at the weight behind his head and the lack thereof on his back, “It’s a bun” you explained, “Yea, well I feel bald” “Don’t knock just yet, it helps keep your hair from your face when you’re fighting, plus I think you look hot with it” you tightened your hold on him for a second as a blush crept its way onto his skin.

“It's getting late, you can get out if you want, I’m going to wash up” you reached for the same bottle of shampoo, tipping it over to collect its contents, but before the suds could touch your skin, Inosuke’s grip caught your wrist. “I’ll do it” he stated firmly, “You don’t have to-” “I’ll do it” he repeated, already taking the bottle. A glop of shampoo slapped against his palm as he rushed to spread it between his two hands. You closed your eyes, ready to be serenaded by his sweet touch when you were quickly reminded of who you were dealing with here- the furthest thing from sweet. Water splashed haphazardly as Inosuke drilled into your skull, roughly kneading your scalp. “Ouch! Stop it! Is that what it felt like to you?! Any harder and I’ll be the bald one!” you yelled, moving away from his hands still hanging above the water. Inosuke shrunk a little, visibly upset as he looked to his right at nothing specific. Instantly regretting your reaction, you acted to fix the situation, “Here” you gently placed his thick fingers against your scalp once again this time placing yours above his, easing them into a gentle, rhythmic massage. “See,” you sighed, “not everything in life is a race.”

Inosuke looked at the way your face fell at the feel of his fingers gently working against you, he almost had to double-take to make sure it was his touch that was providing you so much pleasure- in fact, it sort of inflated his already bulging ego. Although he spent less time washing and rinsing your hair as you had hoped (you could have sat there for hours) the water was growing cooler and time was nipping at both your ankles, reminding you of the sleep you oh so needed. Washed and feeling refreshed, you reached for his shoulders, using them to glide through the water until your chest was pressed against his, becoming more familiar with the feel of his warmth against yours. Your arms dangled over his shoulders with your head buried in his neck, while his large palms found themselves holding your waist, “this was fun” you whispered into his skin. Inosuke grunted, exhaustion creeping up on him too. “Let go to bed” you yawned ready to detach yourself reluctantly from the strong man when you were suddenly carried above the water, exposed and shivering you wrapped your legs instinctively around him. “What are you doing?” you asked embarrassed and flushed red. A wide grin overtook his face as he held you tighter, “Figured you’d be too weak to walk after I almost put you to bed with my magical fingers” he replied as he trudged through the water and out the bath, two towels already waiting to dry your skin.

Later that night as you both lay covered in cotton robes and silk sheets surrounded by the gentle buzz of the others snoring around the room, together on one futon with eyelids as heavy as stones, something occurred to you. “Hey babe?” you whispered, getting a half grunt in response, “you never took that bun out, did you?” the arm that was holding you securely to his side flicked you gently, “hush women” he breathed. You chuckled low, snuggling closer into Inosuke's warmth, falling effortlessly into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you~

Masterlist

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny #kny x reader #inosuke #inosuke x reader #inosuke hashibira

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years ago

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holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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secretlysheikah · 3 years ago

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Exile Chapter 3

Yay! I finished another part in my little sheikah AU! God You guys have no idea how much this is to write and share it brings me so much joy creating a story out of basically my own brain pan. I love my blorbos so much! And I hope you guys are enjoying this little Legend of Zelda AU. Just thank you guys for reading this, I am still grateful for those who read it.

(Also Colin and Hiri bonding... MY HEART.)

Start here:

She floated in and out of sleep for what had to be days. Each time something was different. The metal tray that Ford had brought in was gone, replaced with different cups and bowls of broth that she barely touched. Then her bandages were changed to fresh ones, her back blissfully numb thanks to whatever salve they put on. The sheets were changed next and she spotted Scout where he sat morosely in his lantern on the side table for a bit before she drifted again. She couldn’t help but feel slightly disturbed that she was ill to the point of not remembering people coming into her room.

Her room. Yet another thing she didn’t like. She didn’t want to see this room as hers, she still wanted to be gone. This wasn’t her room. Her room had flowers on the sill. Her room was a warm red with cream accents and she could hear her mom bustling around down stairs. No, she refused to call this her room.

The next time she woke and worked harder to stay awake. Her back was numbed, which meant the bandages were changed, and recently if the steaming cup on her bedside table meant anything. Carefully she pulled herself up into a seated position. She could feel the pressure of the bandages on her mostly healed skin and it made her shiver.

A quick scan of the room showed that she was alone. The fire had been tended to and warmth filled the medium sized room. She listened for the sound of people moving outside but heard nothing. Taking that as a good sign and threw off her blankets and carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed. The quick movement made the room spin and she had to pause and wait for the fit to pass.

She felt a sudden realization hit her then. She could leave and no one would know, the room even had a window. Her eyes fell to the flimsy looking latch that held the two glass panes closed. It would be easy. She slowly started to stand and felt her legs wobbling. She felt weak and she grimaced in annoyance when she had to hold onto the table just to keep her feet. She shuffled over to the deep set window and poked at the latch as she considered it. “Look at you, up and about,” Sheikah whipped around in surprise and nearly lost her footing in the process. She clutched at the sill and looked at Colin where he leaned against the side of the fireplace with his arms folded.

“I dare say you almost look rested too,” he added and moved to plop down on the high backed chair. Which still held her cloak draped across the back. She licked her lips and stood as straight as she could. Colin made himself comfortable and gestured back towards the bed and the side table.

“Why don’t you have a seat, drink some of the broth and we can have a little chat,” he said calmly and Sheikah felt her hands tighten in the sill of the window.

“I’m tired of talking, I want to leave,” she bit out and Colin nodded slowly before gesturing towards the bed again.

“I know, soon I promise but for now, please,” he said gently and pointed at the bed yet again. She gave him a hard look but sighed and moved back to the bed. She could feel his eyes on her back as she went and her ears flushed a bit in embarrassment. She still felt weak and just the simple movement from the bed to the window left her exhausted.

“That’s beef broth. Freshly made too and I even think they added some hearty radish in there too,” he said as she leaned over and grabbed the lightly steaming mug. It smelled delicious, and she found her mouth watering. She brought it up to her mouth meaning to take a little sip but it quickly turned into her drinking it as fast as she was able.

“Wait, slow down,” she heard Colin say as she greedily slurped down the broth. He was too late however, and she felt a painful cramp hit her gut. She hunched forward around the cup and groaned. She heard a sigh from the chair on the other side of the room and she carefully breathed through her nose.

“You haven’t had much to eat, try drinking that a bit slower okay?” He said as he slowly got up from the chair and scooped her cloak up from where it hung in front of the fire. He walked over to her and gently laid the cloak down on the bed next to her before walking back to the chair.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he once again made himself comfortable. Sheikah considered the question as she pulled her cloak towards herself and slowly draped it over her shoulders. She held onto the mug tightly and sat up straighter as the cramping finally passed.

“Tired, weak, impatient,” she listed off quickly and eyed the broth like it was about to bite her. She crossed her legs on the bed and tugged at the edges of her bandages and looked the General over. He looked tired himself, he had dark circles under his eyes and his short black hair was messy and out of sorts. To his credit though his clothes were neatly pressed and free of wrinkles.

“How long have I been here?” She asked as she looked around the room. She noted how there seemed to be more things taking up space. There were books sitting on the dresser, a mirror and a water basin sat at the center as well and she was fairly certain they weren't there before. Colin hummed and followed her gaze as it scanned the room. “A few days,” He started and Sheikah whipped her head around to look at him.

“Days?” She sputtered and nearly spilled her broth on the bed. “Yes, days. You were beaten, ill and clearly exhausted. Let yourself rest,” He said sternly and Sheikah bowed her head. She rubbed at her forehead and tried to calm down.

“So much lost time,” She moaned despairingly and put the mug down and grabbed the photo off of the bedside table. She ran her fingers over the well worn edges before she looked up at Colin. “I need to go, I wasted too much time,” She said desperately and started to get off the bed again.

“No, no. Listen to me. You aren’t well yet,” she heard Colin start but she ignored him in favor of preparing herself to stand. He made a disgruntled noise and she felt something soft smack into face. She flailed and fell backward on the bed and pulled a pillow off her face. She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before she carefully pulled herself back up into a seated position. She held her head for a moment and waited for the spin to slow and threw a glare at Colin where he sat on the chair.

“Don’t be a stubborn ass,” he said when she opened her mouth to say something. She made an affronted noise and was once again cut off.

“You are being stubborn, don’t even pretend you aren’t,” he said and this time he got off the chair and started to pace around. She watched him closely and grabbed the little throw pillow he had thrown at her.

“I have to find my brother, what if he’s in danger? The Yiga…” Colin whipped around and looked at her and she stopped talking. He looked… frustrated? Tired? Probably a bit of both if she were being honest.

“And what if he is?” He asked and Sheikah blinked at him.

“Then I need to go and find him,” She said and leaned forward with a determined gleam in her eye. Colin nodded and folded his arms as he leaned against the dresser.

“Right, we have a few things to discuss. One of which is your self care,” He said with a stern look on his face. She just blinked at him and carefully dug her fingers into the pillow in her lap. “I can take care of myself,” She started and found that she couldn’t look at him, she didn’t need to in order to feel the weight of his incredulous stare.

“Oh is that what this looks like? Sheikah, when I found you, you were skin and bone. You still are as a matter of fact. That doesn’t happen from a few days locked up. So tell me, are you really taking care of yourself?” He asked earnestly and tapped his fingers on his arm.

“I … I have it handled. I have my brother to find,”

“And what would happen if you found him in your state?” He asked before he shook his head and sighed.

“You couldn’t fight, can’t fight with how weak you are right now. You would die and then he would really be alone. Is that what you wish?” He asked sternly and Sheikah felt a bloom of red hot rage in her stomach.

“That is none of your concern! You don’t know me and your words mean very little,” she hissed as her heart raced. Anger had her starting to get to her feet, weakness and exhaustion be damned.

“It is my concern! You are under my command now, you answer to me,” he yelled back and Sheikah felt herself recoil slightly.

“Says who?” She demanded hotly and watched a bitter smile cross Colin’s face.

“The Queen,” He said cheerily and Sheikah felt her eyes widen. She sat back, and looked at her hands.

“So that, wasn’t a fever dream?” She asked quietly and heard a low and tired chuckle from the other side of the room followed by the sound of Colin sliding to the ground to sit.

“Afraid not,” he said gently, pulling Sheikah’s eyes towards him.

“Would you like me to explain what happened?” He asked gently and she found herself bobbing her head.

“The last thing that I can recall with some clarity is telling the Queen I wanted to leave. After that is just a confused mess,” she sighed and slouched forward along with Colin.

“Alright, after you plead your case the Queen was going to let you go. She wanted me to see you to the castle infirmary and then find a place for you to stay,” He began, and started to pick at his boots. Sheikah for her part started to pull at a loose string she found on the pillow.

“However, Silas made a fuss. Screamed and yelled how you were guilty and only spoke lies.” She snorted loudly and waved for him to continue when he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I won’t get into detail, but Silas and I started having it out. His claims were ridiculous and…”

“But how can you be so sure that he was lying? How do you know that I’m not some misled Yiga?” She asked quietly, her voice hard with a note of hurt. She knew her Father despised her, but she never remembered doing anything wrong. She had made peace that she would always be lesser, but hearing about her Father’s conviction to damn her still hurt a small part of her heart that longed for his approval. She dared look up at him and saw consideration on his face instead of pity.

“Because, when I asked you why you were there, you had something about you. A conviction, a need. I could tell you didn’t want to be there, but in a different way than a captured criminal,” he said thoughtfully and looked at her. He pointed to the picture in her lap.

“You talked about needing to find your brother, you worried about if they got him too. You were worried about him and those words were the last thing you said to me before you passed out. Not a word about yourself, but your need to find your brother. Those aren’t the selfish words of a brain dead Yiga swine looking to cause harm,” he said and crossed his arms.

“So, you made a judgment call?” She asked with a tired little laugh and he shrugged.

“I could have been wrong, but seeing your reaction by being told you’ve been here for a few days and immediately trying to swan off to find your brother? Well that just solidified things for me really,” he admitted and gave her a smile.

“I can see the good in your eyes, Sheikah. You have been put under my care, yes, but I will give you your space to work.” He promised and Sheikah held up a tired hand to stop him.

“Yes, you say work, what do you mean by that?” She asked and Colin made a little noise and reached into his pocket.

“Ah, yes, as I was saying, in order to make some sort of peace you were given the task to search for the missing travelers and merchants, the Yiga who are behind it and to attempt to stop whatever it is they are trying to do.” He said and pulled out a nicely folded sheet of parchment paper with a wax seal.

“These are your working papers. Detailed on them is your task, who you report to and an official pardon from the Queen.” He said as he reached up and sat the paperwork down on the dresser behind him.

“You’re joking, they want me to hunt down Yiga and the missing travelers by myself? What about my brother?” She asked as she buried her face into her hands.

“It won’t change much, honestly you’re already out there searching. Now you just have to add a few more people to your list… And send any captured Yiga to our cells for further questioning,” he added quickly and she nearly choked on her outrage.

“What! You have got to be kidding me! What am I a bounty hunter?” She yelled and threw her hands up.

“I mean, kinda? At this point, you need to be. But look at it this way, you can see if they have your brother, if they don’t then great! If they do you can report it to us and we can help you get more answers,” Colin said and gave her a determined smile. Sheikah however returned it with a glare.

“And I report to you?” She asked and he nodded.

“And where do I send these Yiga that I catch?” She asked and Colin gestured around them.

“The outpost, as all outposts have special cells for people of magical nature. I’m sure you are aware of that, and from here we can send them to the castle,” Colin said and Sheikah nodded along an idea forming in her head. She was already trying to figure out how she needed to alter her talismans to send someone somewhere. She was pulled out of her reverie by Colin who was once again talking.

“Of course that will have to wait until we figure out your skills in fighting. Maybe we can start out small,” he said as he tapped his fingers rhythmically and looked off into the distance.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m trained,” she waved away his concern and steepled her fingers in front of her as she thought.

“Trained?” Colin echoed and once again drew her attention to him. She watched him give her a once over and she quirked a brow at him.

“Yes, in both archery and swordplay and not to mention close combat,” she said and once again pulled herself back into musings on magic. If hops were her way to send herself places, then It wasn’t too hard to imagine sending someone else with her talismans she would just have to…

“Still I want to see how well this training of yours is,” he pressed and she sighed and sat back. It was clear he wouldn’t stop talking until she showed him. Slowly she got to her feet and steadied herself, she still felt tired and a bit weak but she wouldn’t need much.

“What are you doing? You still need to rest!” Colin cried as he started to get to his feet. She blinked at him slowly and let a small smile cross her face.

“Make me,” she said and fixed her cloak idly and waited. She watched as he processed what she had said, thought it through and narrowed his eyes at her. Still she waited and when he didn’t move she shrugged and walked over to grab her boots where they were stashed next to the fireplace.

“And where are you going?” He asked as he carefully moved to follow her.

“I am leaving, what does it look like?” She asked as she picked up her boots and looked them over. They were a wreck. Falling apart in numerous places and held together with scraps of colorful fabric and a prayer. Just how she left them.

“Sheikah, come on. I know what you are trying to do,” she looked back at him with a sly grin.

“Oh? I would hope so, because I made it clear I was leaving,” she said and watched in delight as Colin frowned at her and folded his arms.

“You’re trying to have me try and physically stop you. I get it, you're trained. I was just saying I wanted to inspect it for myself,” he said and she nodded her head a bit and shrugged.

“Then let me show you and I promise I won’t leave yet,” she offered and turned to lean back against the warm stone. Colin sighed and rubbed at his forehead and she waited patiently for his verdict

“No. You’re still not fully healed yet and I bet you’re still a bit sick as well… Hey!” Colin said as she shrugged, pulled on her boots and breezed past him.

“What are you doing?” He asked as she put her belt on and hung her lantern at her hip. Scout bobbed and stretched as he examined the room from her side and she tapped lightly on the lid of the lantern, making him hop in a happy little dance.

“Back to that question huh?” She asked and carefully started to stretch a bit. She could feel a slight pull on her back but if she was careful anything that wasn’t healed over shouldn’t open.

“Look I’m bored and I can’t stand this room anymore so I’m leaving to get some air,” she said and grinned at the squawk of protest she got out of Colin. She dipped her hand into her bag and withdrew her sword. It was a long and thin sword, lightweight with a silver hilt that had been wrapped with red strips of fabric with golden embroidery.

“And you need a sword for that?” He protested loudly and Sheikah looked back at him with a grin. She walked over to the window and rested the tip below the latch and flipped it open.

“I do if I want to leave. I can’t remember the way out through the halls,” she explained easily and quickly hopped up on the sill. She heard him coming after her and she turned swiftly on the sill and pointed her blade at him. He stopped and glared at her.

“I won’t be far, maybe you can get some men to collect me, I like a challenge,” she said and swiftly left out of the open window to the sound of loud protests. She smiled to herself as she wandered around the massive outpost. She took mental notes as she went, committing as much detail to memory so she could map the building later. She could hear yelling, and she grinned. She may still be feeling a bit weak and tired but she sure as shit was going to have some fun while it lasted.

Carefully she tapped on her lantern and stuck close to the wall. She pulled the shadows around her becoming an indistinct blur just as a group of soldiers rounded the corner. She stopped moving and waited for them to rush past before she let the magic drop and continued on her way. She had made it around a good portion of the building before she stopped and started watching the soldiers sparring. It wasn’t long after until someone had finally spotted her leaning on the fence of the large sparring ring attached to the side wall of the outpost. She had to give it to the men who were fighting, they were focused and clearly took pride in their skills.

“Oh hello, you must be the Sheikah the General is looking for,” she heard a man’s voice say as he leaned against the post next to her. She sniffed and rubbed at her nose, he wore way too much cologne for it to be healthy. She looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow, He was about her height, olive skinned with auburn hair and dark, gray eyes. The way he looked her up and down that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She shuffled away from him a bit and said nothing.

“He never said it was a girl though, are you having fun watching men work?” He asked in what had to be his interpretation of a smooth, easy going voice. She blinked at him and gripped the fence tightly, she couldn’t be sure why but he made her skin crawl.

“The silent type huh? Or maybe you just don’t know how to use your voice? I’m sure we could think of ways to help with that,” he said and wiggled an eyebrow at her. She made a disgusted face as he came closer and in one fluid movement she stepped away and climbed over the fence.

“Oh don’t be like that! I was just joking!” The man cried after her as she walked further into the sparring ring, now there were multiple people looking at her and she knew Colin would be there soon. She cast her gaze back at him and scowled as he too climbed over the fence to come after her. She ignored him and continued walking towards the group of men. She nodded at them as she passed though no one made a move to grab her. She stopped in the middle of them as she heard a familiar voice calling out to her.

“There you are!” It was Colin, she heard him before she spotted him coming out of a side door that was attached to the large sparring yard. He seemed relieved if a bit annoyed and she smiled at him.

“Took you long enough, but hey, look where we are! It looks like a sparring yard,” she said with a wide grin and brightened when Colin continued to glower at her. He stalked forward and she watched as he visibly tried to collect himself.

“No, I am not sparring with you,” he said flatly and she frowned at him.

“But didn’t you want to test and see how well I’m trained? That’s what you wanted,” she said in a sweet tone and felt her grin spread wider.

“Yes, when you are well,” he started and she waved him off.

“I don’t need to be well to fight,” she said and heard the group of men around her start to whisper around her.

“Sheikah, please,” Colin tried again and she raised her hand.

“How about this, I fight one person, no wait stop,” she said and waved her hand to get Colin to close his mouth. He did but still held her in a glare.

“I fight one person and then I promise to go back and rest. Please, I’m bored,” she said with a pleading tone. Colin rubbed at his eyes clearly thinking over her compromise. To her surprise it was the smelly guy who piped up behind her.

“Really, that was what this whole thing was about?” He scoffed and Sheikah turned to look at him. The man had moved closer and she made a face and moved away. She looked back at Colin and saw that his annoyance had shifted to the other man.

“Are you volunteering, Crowmen?” Colin asked flatly. He Must have noticed her discomfort because he folded his arms and shifted his weight slightly like he was about to step in front of her.

“Depends on what I get out of it, sir.” Crowmen answered and put a special emphasis on the word ’sir’ like it was meant as an insult rather than a sign of respect. Sheikah felt her brows lift and she looked between the two men. She could practically feel the malice bouncing between the two of them.

“The knowledge that you are helping me figure out what needs to be worked on with our guest here,” Colin said tightly and she could see the strain in his smile. Something clicked in her head and she realized that he hated the smelly man. She made a mental note to ask about that later and turned her attention back to Crowmen.

“If you win I’ll tell you my name,” she offered and felt the way Colin stared at her back. She ignored him easily and kept her eyes on Crowmen as he considered.

“How about you have to have a meal with me,” he countered and Sheikah felt a disgusted shiver run through her. She heard Colin shift behind her and she answered before he could cut in.

“Fine,” she said and moved to find a clear spot for them to fight. Crowmen chuckled with delight and called for a practice sword. She turned and faced him and saw that Colin had come up beside her. She leaned a bit away from him but he made sure to keep enough space between them.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered to her and she shrugged.

“Well he seemed willing to fight me, all he needed was a little push and in any case it’s not like he’s going to win,” she said dismissively and eyed the practice sword she was handed. It was heavier than what she was used to but she could work with it. Colin gave her one more look and left to the side lines as Crowmen came to stand in front of her. The look on his face screamed arrogance and overconfidence and she couldn’t be more excited.

“Don’t worry sweetheart I will go easy on you,” he said and gave her a little wink. Sheikah pursed her lips and nodded, she kept her sword at her side not bothering to raise it at the ready.

“I’ll give you the first swing,” she said and walked in closer. Crowmen looked slightly amused and raised the dulled sword up and took a steadying breath. She watched his foot shift to the left, his weight went with it and she easily dodged the first swing and ducked under the follow up.

“Word to the wise, don’t let me get any closer,” she warned and once again moved out of the way of a diagonal slice. She watched in amusement as Crowmen’s cocksure grin faded and turned to concentration then to frustration as she continued to dodge around him. His swing became wilder, more crazed as he tried to land a hit but she continued to shift and move around him.

Finally in a growl of frustration Crowmen swung wide, his arms no longer held close to himself to block any jab she could have leveled at him and she darted in close. She brought her own dulled training sword up and pressed it to his gut.

“Dead,” she said simply and backed away, she wasn’t even out of breath. She turned and looked at Colin and saw a slight look of amusement on his face as well.

“Again!” Crowmen yelled breathlessly behind her and she turned just in time to block a flurry of wild swings. He wasn’t holding back now, each blow she blocked was hard, enough to injure even with dulled blades. His face was a shade of dark beet red and she could see the rage behind his gray eyes. Seeing enough she deftly blocked an overhead swing and moved in close. Her right foot moved in between his legs as she slid her own sword down and twisted. The blade caught in the hilt of Crowmen’s sword and she knocked it out of his hands. She caught the falling blade and twisted around him knocking him to the dirt and leveled his own sword to his throat.

“Dead,” she said flatly as she glared down at him and dropped the sword to the side.

“And cowardly, attacking when your opponent's back is turned,” Colin said angrily and commanded Crowmen to get to his feet. He did, albeit with his eyes glued on her. She watched him rise with a bored expression.

“I guess that meal is off,” she said coolly and walked over to Colin and held out the training sword to him.

“Thank you, I look forward to showing you that I am perfectly capable of fighting later.” She said and smiled slightly as Colin nodded and took the sword from her. She gestured for him to walk her back inside but paused and looked around at the beet red Crowmen.

“Another suggestion, don’t wear so much cologne. The enemy will smell you from three miles away,” she said and nodded once. She could hear snickers from the men around her and she adjusted her hood and started walking towards the building. She heard a muttered ‘bitch’ from behind her and yet again she paused. She turned to look at him, one red eye peering out from the dark depths of her hood.

“Come again?” She asked softly and shifted her weight back on her heels.

“Sheikah,” Colin warned at her side, he seemed to know what she was planning.

“You heard me,” came the hissed reply and she nodded, turned back around and in a flash was behind Crowmen. Her knife pressed firmly in his back and snaked her arm across his shoulders, pulling him back so he had to arch his back to avoid it being sliced.

“Mind your manners, next time I will slice your spine in two,” she hissed before knocking him bodily to the dirt again. Silence filled the air this time and she looked around at the assembled soldiers and stepped over Crowmen and walked back to the stunned Colin.

“Could you walk me back to the room? I have things to do,” she asked politely and Colin nodded silently and led the way. She tried to keep the directions straight in her mind as Colin led the way back through the outpost. She could never understand why she couldn’t remember simple directions in a building or a city for that matter but it was more than a little inconvenient.

“Did you have your fun?” Colin asked hotly as they rounded a corner and snapped her attention like a twig. She looked at his back and sighed in annoyance resigning herself to being forever lost in the damnable building.

“Yes, I did. It was fun watching your men walk right past me,” she said and picked up her step a bit to keep up with him.

“Well you made your point as well as broadcasted your presence to the whole outpost,” he said as he rounded yet another corner. She marveled at just how many corners there were in this place, how had they not gone in a circle yet?

“Are you even listening to me?” Colin snapped and Sheikah jumped a bit.

“Yeah, but look at it this way, people were going to find out I was here at some point,” she said and noted the flat look he was giving her.

“Did I miss something?” She asked and looked around to see that they stopped in front of a door. He blinked at her and reached out and opened the door.

“I was saying that we’re back at your room and I was wondering if you wanted anything to eat,” he said as he walked into the room and gestured for her to follow.

“No I’m not hungry and this isn’t my room because I’m not staying,” she said stubbornly though Colin only shook his head.

“Well either way we are going to have put you somewhere when you return so this room is yours,” he retorted and she squinted at him. He ignored her still and sat back down on the floor and crossed his arms. She walked past him and took her place on the floor across from him. She folded her own legs under her and reached into her side pouch and pulled out one of her paper talismans and laid it on the floor to examine it. Colin watched her with a raised brow but she was happy to see he didn’t comment on it.

“What did you think of the men?” Colin asked after a moment and Sheikah raised her eyes from her careful examination of her paper.

“Well the one I ran into is kind of a pompous jackass with way too much cologne. But the others seem like good men,” she said and sat back.

“Crowmen. Yeah he is a newer recruit and he thinks he is miles above the others,” He snorted and pressed his back against the dresser behind him. Sheikah watched him, she could tell he didn’t care for the kid and just from her first encounter with him she had to agree.

“What about training wise?” Colin asked and she found herself smiling slightly.

“Well it’s clear they don’t know about cloaking. I had a few men walk past me and they never noticed,” she laughed and Colin shook his head.

“We never ran into that issue,” he argued and she shrugged.

“I’ll give you that. It’s also not something that can be easily taught to recognize. I for one won’t share how I do it or how to spot it,” she said and smiled slyly at him.

“How else will I explore off-limits areas?” She joked and Colin wrinkled his brow at her.

“Nothing is off limits, though I shouldn’t be surprised that you would sneak around,” he said and she tilted her head at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She asked and he waved a hand lazily at her clearly unconcerned.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. I know the Sheikah are considered spies and secret protectors of the crown,” he snorted and Sheikah felt her eyebrow quirk up again.

“Just that then?” She asked casually and went back to studying her talisman. She watched him through the veil of her hair as he thought about his answer.

“Unless there is more to know,” He said carefully and she just shrugged.

“Maybe, but we will see about that,” She said and sat back once again. “Back to your question, your men are well trained. However I can see they don’t see action very often. Their attacks are very formal and… Stiff,” She said finally and crossed her legs.

“Formal?” He asked and she nodded.

“Formal, they are ready for a fair fight,” She answered and he tilted his head to the side. She sighed and waved her hand through the air.

“If they are out in the real world do you think monsters or men for that matter will fight fair? It is doubtful,”

“You’re talking about fighting dirty?” He laughed incredulously and she shrugged.

“It’s life. You either live or you don’t. You can kill them first or you die. It’s a hard world, Colin. You live long enough and fight dirty and see another day or you meet Hylia,” her voice was flat and matter of fact and judging by the way Colin was looking at her he knew she was right.

“So you fight dirty then? Not something I would expect from a sheikah,” he said coolly and she smiled at him. In a flash she threw her knife at him and it stuck fast in the dresser next to his head. He looked at it with wide eyes and turned back to stare at her.

“There is a reason I’m still alive,” she said and carefully got to her feet and walked over to him. She crouched down in front of him and leaned forward to pluck the knife out of the wood.

“I’ve learned to fight dirty,” she said simply before she returned back to her place next to the bed. She could see that he was looking at her with new eyes and she returned his gaze with tired eyes.

“Noted,” he said calmly and rested back against the dresser. They sat in silence for a few minutes and she went back to her talisman once again.

“So what is that?” He asked and she let out a gusty sigh and looked up at him. Well it was more of a glare but he didn’t seem to care.

“Magic,” she said flatly and went back to looking it over. She could feel the pressure of questions in the air and she sighed.

“If you are desperate to know it’s how I teleport around. I call it hopping.” She said distractedly and reached into her side pouch for a pencil, flipped over the paper and started to scribble down various symbols and runes on the back. She could feel Colin’s eyes on her but he kept blessedly silent while she considered her rune choices.

“Don’t Yiga teleport?” He asked and she nodded slightly and made a face before she crossed out one of them.

“They do, the sheikah tend to be fast runners with small jumps. The Yiga have developed their teleporting abilities to jump farther distances using similar paper talismans. I’m just piggybacking off of what they have,” she said distractedly and crossed off another symbol and scribbled a new one.

“How do you know all of that?” He asked and sheikah looked up at him and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just do,”

“You just do? How does that make sense?” He asked and a pained look crossed her face.

“Please, I know it doesn’t make sense, and it’s very hard to explain” she said and Colin raised an eyebrow at her.

“Try me,” he challenged and Sheikah sighed and put her head in hands, feeling suddenly exhausted by it all.

“I don’t even know you, why do you care so much?” She complained and jumped when she heard shuffling from the other side of the room. Colin had left his place in front of the dresser in favor of moving closer to her. She eyed the space between them for a moment before looking back up at him.

“I care because I can see you need help, and not just for bandaging wounds. I can see loss in your eyes, Mouse. If you don’t want to be friends that’s fine, but at least use me as a resource,” he offered and she sighed heavily.

“You’re going with Mouse for my name then?” She asked and he beamed at her.

“What can I say, I think it fits you,” he joked and she shook her head of messy white hair.

“Hiri does sound better, in a way. I suppose I’ll take it,” she said and rested her elbows on her knees and leaned forward.

“How do I do this? I still don’t know you,” she said and Colin nodded.

“How about a fact for a fact? We share a bit about ourselves and go back and forth,” he suggested and she nodded slowly. She felt nervous, her fingers twitched against her knees.

“I’ll go first, my favorite color is blue,” he said with a little smile and Hiri breathed a bit easier.

“My favorite color is maroon. But I have grown fond of green,” she said quietly and moved her shoulders so her cloak moved slightly.

“My favorite food is fruit cake,” Colin said next and sat back a bit and crossed his legs. She sat back as well and thought about her own favorite food.

“If I had to say it would be a tough choice between porgy and my mom’s honeyed apple oatmeal,” she said and Colin smiled at her.

“Honeyed apple oatmeal? That sounds delicious,” Colin hummed and Hiri could practically see a flurry of questions running through his head before he settled on one.

“Where is your favorite place in Hyrule? I like the beach,” he said and she swallowed a bit. Her fingers drummed on her knees.

“I haven’t really paid attention, but I guess I feel better when I’m in the woods,” she said carefully and worried if he would consider that to be too vague. Colin seemed happy enough and he continued on with more questions.

She didn’t know how long they sat on the floor across from one another asking basic questions back and forth but it had to be a while. She found out a lot of things about the General. He was an only child, his father was a knight and his mother is bad at sewing but a great cook. His father taught him to mend clothes but if asked it was all his mother, even if she couldn’t sew in a straight line. Colin started training to be a knight at a young age and thanks to his skill and talent at battle plans, rose through the ranks quickly and was put in charge of the outpost a few years later.

At every new fact she thought of little things she could tell him to keep him talking. Her favorite flowers are poppies, her favorite animals were cats and she liked sleeping in the sun.

She didn’t know whether he meant to or not, but Colin made sure to side step around anything involving her family or her village and for that she was grateful. He sat back a bit and hummed as he thought of what else he wanted to share. Hiri took up her talisman in the meantime and studied it briefly.

“The fact that my hair is cut short is not the only thing that marks me as an exile,” she said quietly, her mind choosing to speak rather than giving her time to think it through.

“Mouse, are you sure you want to tell me this,” Colin said quietly and she could hear a gentleness in his voice. He understood the gravity that one sentence held, the secrets that had rarely seen the light of day.

“They threw me out because I wanted to find my brother. As far as I can see I hold no loyalties to the ruling Elders,” she said and put the paper down on her knee.

“I thought you didn’t have any memories from the village,” He said and she shrugged.

“I do have some. But there are a lot of gaps, blank holes where I know something should be. I do have some things though, memories they deemed safe enough for me to have,” she said quietly and shifted again and pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs, the paper slipping down and back onto the floor.

“I also apparently have innate knowledge on various things as you saw with the talisman there. The only problem is that there are no connecting threads as to why I would know it,” she explained.

“It makes things difficult for follow up questions I’d imagine,” Colin said lightly and pulled a snort out of Hiri.

“You have no idea,” she joked half heartedly.

“Anyway, if what you say is true and you want to be my friend or resource or what have you then I should be more open so you know what you’re working with,” she said and looked at him over top of her knees. He nodded briskly before gesturing for her to continue.

“I am an exile of the Sheikah clan. I was slated to be an elder and as such I was not allowed to leave the village for any reason,” she started and to his credit Colin kept his face a neutral mask as she talked, taking it in.

“When I got word of my brother’s possible disappearance I left but was brought back,” she said and felt her eyes lock on something in the distance as she wandered through her memories.

“My incessant demands that he be found fell on deaf ears and then…” she blinked and shook her head.

“There is a blank, I can’t remember anything besides flashes. My lantern with Scout inside, the air on the back of my neck and the command that I am to find my brother and return or never return again,” she said softly.

“I don’t have any clear string of memories for what has to be days or a week after that. Just more flashes. I don’t even know if I said goodbye to my mother, I must have, or else I wouldn’t have this,” she said and lifted the edge of her cloak to show him. He looked at it before returning his gaze to her properly.

“Have there been any side effects from your exile?” He asked and she made a noncommittal noise.

“Maybe? My memory feels worse some days. Sometimes I’ll be at a stable, blink and be in the middle of woods,” she said and he nodded.

“Missing time, memory lapses, fugue state, that must be worrying when that happens,” he said and she let out a tired laugh and nodded. He leaned forward a bit and furrowed his brow.

“What about physical side effects?” He asked and tented his fingers in front of him. She hummed and gave him a so-so motion with her hand.

“It’s a lot like my inherent memory of facts. I don’t know where I learned some of the things I can do, I just know how to do them. It’s a lot like muscle memory. There are times where I’ll run up against something and have no idea what to do and then suddenly I just,” she waved her hand around and wiggled her fingers.

“Poof, my body is already doing the motions without me thinking about it,” she shrugged and sat back against the bed. She felt a twinge of pain and she shifted a bit to try and soothe it.

“Alright, we can definitely work with this,” he said and offered her a determined smile.

“What about skills with magic?” He asked and she had to think about it for a moment.

“Well, I can hop. A means of fast travel I have been developing. I used the basics from the Yiga and their teleporting and have been working on improving the distance. I dare say I’m getting pretty damn good at it too.” She said and smiled to herself. She patted on Scout’s lantern and gestured for him to come out. Scout only took a second to zip out from the confines of his lantern and swirled around her head and down her arm before settling in her palm. Hiri smiled at the look on Colin’s face and snapped her fingers. Scout bobbed a bit and she smiled at the blue flame.

“Go say hello, but be nice,” she said sternly and the little blue flame juddered a little and puffed little clouds of smoke before floating over to Colin.

“That is Scout, he helps me plan longer hops. I don’t know how but he seems to know everything about where I have wandered to,” she said and watched as Scout got close to Colin’s face. Colin for his part slowly moved back and peered around to look at her. She grinned at him and full on laughed when Scout suddenly darted up and buried himself in Colin’s black hair. He let out a yelp and reached for Scout but it was a lost cause.

“I should have warned you, Scout likes hair. He keeps getting tangled in mine so good luck getting him out of there,” she snickered and delighted in the look he gave her.

“He’s… He’s not going to burn me right?” He asked and very slowly felt around his head until he poked Scout. The little flame bobbed and puffed up before somehow working himself deeper into Colin’s hair. He winced and let his hands drop and huffed.

“No he shouldn’t, as far as he is concerned I gave you a passing grade. He will not burn you unless you try to hurt me or him,” she explained and laughed again as Scout let out a little hum of agreement. Colin slowly nodded and turned his full attention back to her.

“How far have you been? You said you were traveling for a couple weeks?” He asked and she nodded and dug in her side pouch for her map. It was already rough and worn looking with small scorch marks but it was filled out in a startling amount of detail. Colin looked at it and then looked back to Hiri.

“Hiri, mouse, have you ever been out of your village before now?” He asked as he sat back and away from her map. She blinked at him in confusion and shook her head vehemently and she watched his eyebrows start to raise.

“Well then, I think we have an unexpected problem,” he said and gestured to her map.

“This is the map of someone who has been traveling around for months,” he said gently and Hiri felt her eyes widen. Her brows furrowed and she opened her mouth and tried to find her words. She looked back at the slightly tattered map and noted the detail. There were whole areas filled out, town names, monster camps and even what local wildlife was in the area. Stables were noted on there as well along with notes upon notes of rumors or ideas that had been crossed out.

“It makes sense in a way, I mean look at your shoes, they’re falling apart. If you had been traveling around for a few weeks then they must have been a very cheap pair,” Hiri toyed with the colorful strips of fabric tying her boots together.

“So, what does that mean then?” She asked and felt suddenly more exhausted than moments before.

“I guess we see what you can remember, you made notes on your map, it’s a place to start,” he said and pointed at the messy writing that littered the paper. She nodded and slouched forwards to scoop up her map and spotted Colin tapping the floor boards just in front of it to get her attention. She looked up at him with tired eyes and smiled slightly when he held out a grumpy looking Scout. She didn’t know how Colin was able to scoop him out of his hair without pulling it out but it was clear it was a struggle. His slightly messy hair was worse now, sticking up at odd angles and she thought she smelled a hint of singed hair.

“I think this is yours,” he laughed and Hiri nodded and held out her hand. She brushed his fingertips with her own and was amazed that her skin didn’t burn. If Colin noticed he didn’t say anything, only made sure Scout was squarely on her hand before pulling away.

“How does that sound?” He asked and she jumped a little and looked up at him. She blinked owlishly at him and he gave her a soft smile.

“You missed the question didn’t you?” He asked gently and Hiri nodded sheepishly.

“I was asking if you wanted to lay down and rest. You look exhausted,” he said and she looked back at the bed. Sleep did sound pretty nice, and given the revelation that she might have been traveling for months without a solid memory to her name was scaring her a bit. He must have noticed because he tapped the floor again.

“It’s going to be okay, mouse,” he said and nodded at her. She sighed and rested her head in her palm. Scout nuzzled her thumb on her other hand and she let out a tired laugh.

“If you say so,” she said quietly. She curled forwards on herself and was about to stand when Colin reached out his hand for her to take. She looked at it with wide eyes and slowly reached out and hesitantly took it. To her utter shock and amazement the contact didn’t burn. Still she was quick to let go and sit on the bed just in case. She nodded her thanks and went to curl up on the bed when Colin made a noise. She looked at him with curiosity and took off her belt and lantern and held them out to him. He snorted and took it from her and set them back on the side table.

“I was talking about your boots,” he said and pointed at her feet. She looked down and let out a tired snort before she took them off and dropped them on the ground. He rolled his eyes and laughed as he moved them over and sat down on the bed with her.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked and she shrugged and gave him more room.

“I was going to sleep, you’re going to get bored,” she said and started kicking the blankets down so she could curl up.

“That’s okay, I can find something to entertain myself,” he said and looked at her cloak.

“I can mend that for you,” he offered and she paused and looked at her cloak. It was tattered around the edges and she hummed and looked at him uncertainly before she carefully unclasped it.

“You really know how to sew?” She asked and he laughed.

“I know, it’s hard to believe but I can sew rather well,” he said as he stood, made his way over to the dresser and dug out a small box and came back to sit.

“You won’t even recognize it when you wake up,” He said and opened the box and pulled out a couple shades of green. He hummed and held a couple up, considering the colors closely. She looked at them and pointed to a dark green.

“That one is pretty close,” She said and carefully unhooked her cloak from around her shoulders. She felt a little shake enter her hands and she worried at the rough wool for a second before she set it down gently on the bed. Colin watched her and took a deep breath.

“I think it is our best bet, when I go into town I will stop by the tailors and grab some more thread that might better match,” he said and crossed his legs and sat so he was facing her. He took up the cloak in between his nimble fingers and started sewing. She watched as he gently worked the needle through the wool and laid down. After a few minutes of quick work he reached the end of the tear and pulled the thread. She sat up and watched as the thread disappeared into the fabric, leaving no trace behind.

“Wow, it’s like it never happened,” She said and sat up more and ran her fingers over the freshly patched up tear.

“See I told you I could sew,” He laughed and tied off the thread and strung the needle again and went back to his work.

“Now how about you rest,” He suggested again and she nodded slowly, feeling slightly better about him holding her cloak. He smiled and went back to his work and started to hum a quiet song. She felt a shiver run through her and she curled up and felt herself drift off easily to the sound of the needle moving through fabric and Colin’s gentle lullaby.

#the sheikah writes #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #Legend of zelda sheikah au #sheikah #shiekah fanfiction #loz fanart #loz botw #orginal content #original story

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barnxsromanxff · 3 years ago

Text

Make a wish | Steve Rogers x reader

30 day fluff writing prompt challenge

Do not repost any of my writes without credit to me

Day 3: Birthday

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: It’s steve’s birthday and you try to treat him like royalty. Things don’t go according to plan but he appreciates it none the less.

Warnings: mostly fluff, mention of lingerie, kissing, soft steve, slight cursing

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, i’m literally in class right now after summer finals typing this out of my phone. It made me smile so wide, thank u all for the support and i hope u enjoy day 3 of this challenge. make sure to check out @deity-prompts page for more ideas and challenges! enjoy <3

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Your boyfriend is turning 103, something you never thought you would say to yourself. You always like to tease him, saying he must have a thing for girls 80 years younger than him. However today you would hold your teasing back slightly, it had to be perfect. The plan had been in motion for a week, you even got help from bucky to distract him.

“I’m picking Steve up now so you can decorate and make the cake, how long”

You whispered your response back in the phone hoping Steve’s super hearing couldn’t hear your scheme.

“Keep him for atleast an hour, I need to set some stuff up.”

Bucky grumbled but agreed, hearing a car honk in the front. The line hung up and you smiled knowing buck loved seeing Steve even if he doesn’t want to admit it to you.

“Steve bucks here to take you out for some drinks, be safe honey”

You kissed his cheek and sent him on his way before he could argue. The door shut and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, it’s game time now. You ran up to your closet and reached up to the pile of decorations you had hiding behind some jackets. You dumped the decor on your bed and started putting your plan in motion.

Finally about 40 minutes later it was complete, your old timey decor was set all across your livingroom and in your bedroom. You had an old radio on the fireplace mantle that played sweet old songs, you felt like you had stepped back in time.

“Oh god the cake.”

A string of curses fell from your mouth as you scurried to the kitchen you took out the ingredients and whisked faster than you ever had in your life. You shoved it in the oven and ran to get changed. Your dress was a light blue color, the waist was cinched and tight and the skirt flared out. You spun in the mirror and mouthed the word perfect to yourself and put on the blue heals, then hobbled over to the bathroom to fix your hair a little and put on some lipstick. The fire red color was absolutely beautiful, it complemented your complexion and make your teeth look whiter than pearls. Steve was gonna love it. You walked as fast as you could and took out the steaming cake, and put it in the fridge to cool. After a few minutes you took it out hoping it wasn’t too warm, you poured on the icing and trued your best to make it look presentable.

“Love, what is all this?”

Steve was here and buck didn’t even warn you, you noted that you weren’t gonna trust his time management skills anymore. You pumped red icing on the sides of the cake hoping he wouldn’t notice the random smears and globs of icing. You cursed as you noticed a red stain on the very front of your dress, you tried to wipe it to the best of your ability and grabbed your apron and put it on. Maybe it would look more realistic, since it was the 1940s and you would’ve been a house wife. Gross.

“Sit down Stevie i’ll be out in a minute.”

Peaking your head out you saw the man of your dreams, he twiddled his thumbs as he looked around the room. His eyes widened as you walked out, mouth agape. Your eyes twinkled and you spun around with your arms out, his smile matched yours and he pulled you into a bear hug.

“All this for me? And y/n you look so beautiful, I love it so much.”

His eyes scanned your dress and kissed your cheek sweetly, then he looked around the room. He walked towards the radio and turned on some music, a sweet melody started to play and it seemed like he turned into a little boy again.

“I know this song! My mama would play it all the time.”

You nodded and motioned for him to come closer, his hand reached for yours and kissed each knuckle. His hand rested on the small of your back and you leaned your head on his chest.

“I love you so much, sweetheart you have no idea.”

Your eyes watered and you looked up at him, a tear ran down his cheek and you wiped it then caressed his soft cheek.

“I love you too, i mean i have to treat my love good. 103 is special.”

His laugh echoed off the walls, with a slight roll of eyes he kissed your cheek.

“Some things aren’t like they were back then, missed a little.”

You scoffed and ran your hands up his shoulders into the hair on the nape of his neck. He shuttered and looked to you.

“How so?”

“Well back then I didn’t have my favorite girl.”

He kissed your forehead and smiled, the sweet melody played through the whole house. Dripping into every room and making the house sweeten up a little, your dress bounced as you both swayed to the melodic music.

“Oh! The cake, I forgot the cake.”

You wobbled into the kitchen like a penguin and grabbed the plate, carefully you carried it. You must not have cleaned up as well as you thought because your heel caught onto a cord and you fell forwards. The cake splattered on the ground and you both just stared at it.

“Happy birthday...”

Steve chuckled slightly and helped you up, noticing the white and red icing all over your apron. He untied the apron and you cringed as he slid it off

“Much bet- You have a glob of red icing on your dress honey.”

You looked down and nodded, him realizing why you had the apron on in the first place. He laughed and kissed you.

“I’m sorry Steve, I really tried to give you a good birthday this year. You deserve it.”

He hushed your words and looked back at the cake, then you again.

“Y/n this all is so amazing, sure the cake is now on the ground but still look at all this! Just you being here with me makes it heaven.”

His sweet talking never gets old, he wiped your dress off a little and leaned in for a kiss. His hands pressed against your waist lightly and his kiss was gentle.

You both cleaned up the mess and enjoyed a spoon of cake that hadn’t touched the floor. Steve had a perfect birthday and you were so happy you could make him smile as wide as he did.

“Now let’s get you out of that dress.”

His hand spanked your butt lightly and you blushed.

“I think you’ll like the outfit underneath.

This time it was Steve’s turn to blush as you grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom to continue with the birthday presents.

#marvel smut #marvel comics #marvel #steve rogers #steven grant rogers #birthday #happy birthday #kissing #x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #lovers #smutty #cakesdecor #1940s actress #1940s vintage #barnxsromanxff

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Sunshine

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After a long night, Ron surprises you the following morning with a sweet gesture.

Warnings: stress, mentions of injury, mentions of food, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 2.1k

“Have I told you that I love you today?”

“I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn.”

A/N: This is my fic for @writeroutoftime 1k writing challenge! The prompts I used above are bolded and italicized in the fic. Congratulations again, Rita, I hope you enjoy my lovely!!

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker)

The day began almost too soon, faint streams of sunlight peeking through the sheer curtains only to be stolen temporarily by the periodic clouds you presumed. It felt as though you had just slipped into bed, as if it was just mere seconds ago that the room was dimly lit with the moonlight and you had tucked yourself against the love of your life. It had been an extraordinarily late shift at St. Mungo’s, patient after patient walking through the door just waiting to be healed whether their injuries were significant or superficial. You were exhausted by the very end of it and in desperate need of sleep. But dawn had rolled around without a pause, and very much to your dismay.

Upon closer inspection, you frown at the empty space next to you, breathing out a sigh as you rubbed your tired eyes once more. It had been far too quiet, you knew it the moment you heard the ticking of the clock on the dresser rather than the usual snoring that was almost always muffled into your neck. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the very idea of getting out of bed, but the thought of getting any more sleep without your beau to curl into simply wasn’t feasible. So, with another huff, you left the warmth of the blankets and sheets and padded your way downstairs in search of him.

The house had been comfortingly quiet, an aura that only ever seemed to exist at that hour no matter where you were. The mismatched clocks dotting along the walls and mantle chimed once to signal it’d been half past eight, and the scent of your sweet candles wafted to you once you made it to the living room. It was clear that it’d rain sometime that day, the puffy gray clouds increasingly covering the blue sky as the breeze blew. The patchwork blankets were sprawled across the couch surely in preparation for a day spent doing very little, and you were more than fine with being unproductive.

The familiar screech of your teapot had grabbed your attention, not to mention the potent smell of coffee being brewed and you immediately found yourself following it.

A smile pulled at your lips when you walk in the kitchen, your heart fluttering in your chest at the sight of the unruly ginger bedhead. His back had been to you as he fixed his morning coffee, grabbing his favorite mug from the sage colored cabinets. Ron may have been more of a coffee person over tea sometimes, though really it’d always been more sugar and cream than anything. He even went so far as to slip in a few pieces of chocolate to melt into his drink.

He heard your footfalls, no matter how light they may have been and he was quick to turn around. The softest of smiles graces his lips as he looks at you, a blush soon to follow at the sight of his old quidditch sweater hanging from your shoulders in tattered ruffles of yellow and maroon. It was something you wordlessly decided to claim as your own, and he hadn’t minded it in the slightest. He’d felt a swell of pride in his chest whenever you wore it, but mostly he was just enamored by you.

“Hey,” He says, setting his mug down and crossing the kitchen in a few strides. His arms were quick to envelop you in his embrace, his lips finding yours in an instant. “‘Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you whisper tiredly with a hum, your arms wrapping around his neck as your sleepy smile widens at the nickname. “Missed you.”

He laughed softly, his breath fanning against your lips. It wasn’t a laugh of mocking, but rather one of giddiness upon the fact that you had missed him. A deeper blush stained his freckled cheeks and he hid it with another kiss.

“Sorry to have left you alone,” he murmurs, “but I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn. It’s not the best but I know you got in late last night and I wanted to surprise you.”

He laughs timidly at his rambling, scratching the back of his neck in shy embarrassment and hopes that you’d like it. When you peer around his shoulder you spot a heaping bowl of cereal on the small kitchen table, a bit of milk puddled on the surface and a laugh leaves your lips. Your heart leaps in your chest at just how thoughtful he always is, and you were quite sure your beaming was more than obvious when you turned back to look at him.

“It’s perfect, Ron,” you murmur, hugging around his neck before leaning on your toes and pressing a grateful kiss to his flushed cheek. “I love you.”

He was quick to join you at the table, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug as he yawned sleepily. He looked impossibly cute as he kept close to the steaming mug, basking in the warmth of it as he rests his chin in his palm. His hair dipped in his eyes and no matter how often he swiped it away, it stubbornly fell right back into place to tangle with his lashes. Perhaps the cutest of all was the smile adorning his lips upon looking at you, as if you had been the only thing in the world of importance.

To him, you very much were. To be so cliche he felt you were nothing short of sunshine, always lighting up anything and everything that had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. The moment he used the nickname it just stuck, for it was very true, so how couldn’t he not?

“How was work?” He asks into his mug, a bit of the frothy cream left behind on his upper lip.

“It was as busy as always,” you sigh tiredly, swiping your thumb over his lip with a small laugh. “Malfoy and I had our hands full when a bunch of quidditch players came in.”

He snorts at that, brushing the hair out of his eyes once more. “That bad, huh?”

You nod with a mouthful, stirring your spoon in your bowl as a grin he recognizes all too well works its way onto your lips. “I was relieved when I saw you hadn’t been amongst them, you’ve really got to be more careful when you play, Ron. That one ti—”

His groan effectively cuts you off as he rubs his face. “Darling, that was one time!”

“Draco had to give you eleven stitches, Ronald. You were seething at him the entire time.” You laugh at the memory, at the heat so clearly burning crimson in his cheeks at the time. Though he bit his tongue when he’d seen just how different the blonde had been. “You’re clumsy and you know it, love.”

He grumbled into his drink in disagreement but you hadn’t missed the smile tugging at his lips. You giggle as you shake your head, and he nudged your foot with his under the table in further disapproval.

Conversation had been minimal after that, a comfortable silence falling over you as you ate your breakfast and he drank his coffee. The rain you’d suspected had been trickling down the windows then, the weather making it all the more reason to stay tucked away in each other’s arms for the entirety of the day. Not that you needed a reason to, of course. There were no plans pressing on either of you on your days off, and with work keeping you from spending any quality time together it became a silent agreement that you’d take advantage of the opportunity.

The absence in conversation was filled with fleeting gazes and brushes of fingertips. Crinkling of the morning paper and laughter as he stole a few bites of your cereal. It was filled with longer, more fond stares and rosy cheeks as he tried to bring himself to stop gawking like the lovestruck fool he very well knew he was. It was a title Harry had given him, one that the entirety of his family was in agreement with. He happily accepted it, he was madly in love with you since he was seventeen and he feels it’ll never falter, and he’s more than fine with that very fact.

When you glance over the table at him he’s got a smile on his lips as he looks out the window. You knew he’d been up to something. “What?”

You raise a brow at him and he gets up from the table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head in a wordless response. With a sigh, you watched as he disappeared out of the back patio door with eagerness and determination, and you laughed into your mug as you sipped at the rest of your tea.

You grab your empty bowl and walk over to the sink to rinse it out along with his mug, spotting the chocolate at the very bottom that hadn’t melted into his drink fully. He had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone you’d ever known, and you knew he’d surely fall asleep in your arms by the afternoon.

Moments later he returned with a lopsided grin, the now drizzling rain dampening his hair and beading across his skin. A bunch of freshly picked wildflowers were clutched in his hand, the purple and blue petals dripping with the morning rain. Your cheeks reddened at the action as you dry your hands on a nearby towel, taking the delicate flowers from his own.

“Breakfast and flowers?” You grin, your fingertips brushing over the dampened petals. The warmth filling your chest was one only Ron Weasley could manage, for he’d been the sweetest man you’d ever known. No matter how simple the gestures or gifts were, they meant everything to you all the same. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile, his arms enveloping you in an embrace. “You may have mentioned it once, I believe.”

You tipped your head back as you laughed at his jesting, more so when you felt his lips press to the underside of your jaw. He’s very well aware of the way it makes you squirm and he will never hesitate to do so just to hear you laugh. His own giggles vibrate against your skin, his lips meeting yours in the most tender of kisses. The joined laughter settles a fraction as your hand cradles his cheek. The taste of chocolate in his kiss is something you don’t miss, the warmth of his lips setting your skin ablaze with every movement.

“I love you,” you say softly once more in the close proximity, his smile bright as you pull away to look at him.

You pluck a flower from the bunch in your hand, tucking it behind his ear. The soft blue blossom poked out beneath the ruffles of red hair, and you were sure you’d never seen a sight more adorable in your life. He takes them from your hand and sets them down on the counter, spinning back to face you and take your hand in his own.

“Ron Weasley, are we going to slow dance?” You ask, laughing softly as you grin up at him. He simply nods with a fond smile.

He pulls you close as he holds your joined hands up, his forehead resting on yours as you sway about the cozy kitchen. His hair tickled your skin and you teased him for his coffee breath, and he was quick to kiss you all the more at your playful teasing.

After a while you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, your lips ghosting over his skin in a way that caused a heat to flood his cheeks and a giddy smile to grace his lips. The rain was persistent, heavily pattering against the cozy little house you shared as you danced around the kitchen. His hand was warm in your own as he squeezed you softly, basking in the very way you were perfectly content in his arms, content to be with him. You may have stepped on his toes every now and then as you sway, but he couldn’t find it in him to care about such things.

“I love you,” he whispered, his words unwavering as he kissed the top of your head. You bring yourself to lift your head, your noses brushing as you share your moment of bliss in the quiet of your kitchen. His lips press over yours in a whisper of a kiss, “I love you.”

Amidst all the rain in the early morning hours, all Ron would ever need was you. For you were his sunshine.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @dracosathenaeum @snitches-at-dawn @awritingtree

#woot1kchallenge #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fic #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasly imagine

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

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ao3

Joe never understood how he still felt sore.

After long fights, missions that tired him to the bone, events that caused his body to heal itself, he was always so sore. It was unfair, honestly, with the way he healed, he shouldn't have to live with the side effects. Nicky suggested that it might be a psychological effect, but it still seemed unfair.

Tonight, however, Copley had managed to have them put up in a nice hotel, one with nice sheets and a stack of clean towels and two separate bedrooms. It seemed to be an apology for the shitshow of a rescue mission the day has spiralled into. It, sadly, didn't sooth the tension in his shoulders.

Joe went to fall into the bed in one of the rooms, but Nicky caught him by the arm.

"Can we enjoy truly clean sheets for one night?" he asked, an enticing smile on his face. Joe considered just pulling him into bed and distracting him from his question, but it was hard to deny him of such an easy request. It was hard to deny him of any request.

"And then we sleep?" Joe clarified.

"Of course," Nicky confirmed, tugging him out of the room and to the bathroom.

Nicky locked the door, turned the water on, and then double checked the lock. Joe checked it a third time for good measure. One could never be too sure.

The room slowly filled with steam as they stripped even slower, their bodies aching with each movement. The effort it took to pull his shirt over his head was almost too much. A quick look in the mirror showed their efforts, though, every inch of them covered in a later of sweat or dirt or dried blood or some mixture of them all. He understood the desire for a shower even if he would've loved to just sleep.

"The water heater might be my favorite invention," Nicky said as he stuck his hand beneath the stream. Joe smiled at the sight of him climbing into the shower, naked and pleasured simply by the feeling of hot water on his skin.

"Yes, and you are mine," he responded easily, stepping in after him. Nicky smiled just a little as he turned his face up into the stream. Dirt and dried blood slowly dripping off with the water.

Years, decades, centuries of touching not matter how much grime they had on them had desensitized him to it entirely even as hygiene evolved, so there was nothing stopping him as he stepped up to him to share the water. It was hot and high pressured, washing the top layer of grime off them with ease and letting it go down the drain. Nicky drapes his arms over his shoulders, pulling him in even closer.

"You have that knot again," Nicky said, fingers gently digging between his shoulder blades as he looked into his eyes with unmatched ease. Joe sucked in a slow, deep breath and leaned forward for a kiss. Nicky let him for a few seconds before pulling away. "Let me take care of that."

"Not tonight."

Nicky nodded, still staring at him for a moment. His eyes were intense as always in the most comforting way His fingers dragged up and over his shoulder, leading up until he got to his chin and he held him in place as he moved in for a kiss. Again, it didn't last as long as it could've, but he didn't argue.

Nicky reached out of the curtain for a moment to grab a rag from the rack, pulling it back in and taking his time to lather it in the travel sized soap the hotel had laid out. The process of scrubbing each other and themselves clean took longer than Joe signed up for, but Nicky kept him going with gentle touches every time his head bobbed with fatigue.

By the time they were finished, Nicky's skin was stained a bright red from the heat of the water. Joe couldn't help but press his fingers into his side, watching it turn white and slowly fade back into red. Nicky responded by pushing a towel into his chest and giving him a look that wasn't quite playful, but it wasn't quite stern. So Joe pressed his entire hand to the back of his thigh, pulling him in closer. He couldn't really watch the redness return as he let go, but he could slowly drag his hand up and smile when Nicky tilted his head in bridled amusement.

"What happened to being tired?"

"I am always tired and life is too short to waste time," he said. Nicky huffed a small laugh, grabbing Joe's towel and bringing it to his head to start drying his hair for him.

"Life is too short," Nicky repeated, amusement laced in his tone.

"My time with you will never be enough," Joe promised, grabbing Nicky's towel and wrapping it around his waist for him.

Drying off took even longer, it seemed, more kisses and touches being shared than had been allowed in the shower. Nicky had grabbed ahold of his jaw again and backed him into the door, a chill striking through him at the coldness of it. But Nicky was warm to the touch, his skin hot and his tongue hotter. The idea of his obsession with this man being reborn again after so long was almost hysterical, but it felt more than true.

It seemed to last until they'd dried without much of a need for those fresh towels.

"Yusuf," Nicky said as he brought things to a stop, his body still pressed close as he slipped into Italian, "You deserve a good night's sleep."

"So do you," Joe insisted right back. Nicky smiled that sweet, rare smile of his.

"Then let's go to sleep."

One day, maybe, they'd get the option to have a nice nights sleep every night without worry. One day, they might have a permanent home, far from where someone might notice they hadn't aged. One day, they might have more possessions than what they could fit in a backpack. One day, one day, one day.

Tonight, however, they wore the same boxers and t-shirts they always had and climbed into a temporary bed. Nicky's hair was still wet as Joe laid behind him, a gun tucked beneath the pillow for easy access. But Joe put his arms around him and tugged him close, remembering how to breathe again when he could feel his heart beating in his chest.

"Sleep," Nicky said softly, "I'll see you when you wake up."

"I'll see you in my dreams first," Joe corrected, kissing his neck just once and feeling him relax at the promise.

"You're incorrigible."

Joe fell asleep easily to the sound of fondness in Nicky's voice.

#me posting this despite knowing my characterization will undoubtedly be garbage: 😌#the old guard fic #joe x nicky #nicolo of genoa #yusuf al kaysani #my fic

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

State Your Name (for the Record) - S.R.

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert, emotional H/C

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word count: 5560

Summary: For a man haunted by nightmares, waking up was an ambivalent process.

For a man in love, the pros outweighed the cons. And make no mistake, Steve Rogers was a man in love.

In which Steve feels blue, but he can count on his girl to raise his spirits – especially since she can convince his whole team to do something nice for him.

Warnings: implied mission going not so well, angst, crying, self-doubts, swearing ,fluff and cheesiness of the highest order

Waking up was an everyday process most people considered unpleasant.

For a man haunted by nightmares, either made up by his traumatised mind or simply by pressing re-play on one from the stack of torturous memories, the action was both relieving and exhausting.

Waking up meant the nightmares were over; waking up meant he had to pick himself up and, despite all odds, face another day, even when his body ached and his soul seemed too tired, yet determined to continue to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

For a man in love, the pros outweighed the cons. And make no mistake, Steve Rogers was a man in love.

A woman he proudly called his girlfriend was nothing less than everything he could wish for; she carried beauty in features she considered imperfect, she never failed to make him smile for at least a fraction, her laughter filled his chest with delight as it lit up the room and she was gentle and dorky to a fault. And for he was willing to give her the world, she reciprocated his feelings to full extend.

Waking up next to the woman he loved was what always won over the desire to bury his face under the covers and tell the world to let him fucking rest.

He even cherished waking up with you. Hell, if he could squeeze in a morning run between the time he got up and you did, the better. He loved pulling you from your dreamland, even when you had clearly been dreaming a sweet dream, your lips gently curled up in a smile; because every time he tenderly welcomed you in a new day, your smile would turn brighter.

Which was exactly the reason why, when he opened his eyes today and found your side of the bed – how bold of him to call it that, when you usually slept in his embrace anyway, keeping his heart warm while he did the same for your body – empty, he knew that day would downright suck.

Steve muttered a curse under his breath, running his hand down his face as he forced himself to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

You weren’t exactly a proclaimed early riser, so not only that your absence was unnerving and painful, because today more than at any other day Steve would beg for you to be there when he entered the reality, but it was also slightly disconcerting.

He tried not to read more into it and as he glanced at the clock, he knew shouldn’t – after all, he had been informed you would be gone at that time.

Still though, dark thoughts were sometimes hard to chase away. Thoughts regarding you avoiding him. He hated when he was pulling your bright spirit down, dragging you into the shadows of his world, bloody and violent, fearsome and traumatising, offering nothing but bruises, cuts, stab-wounds and shot-wounds, broken bones and broken minds.

Whenever he came back to you from a mission – a bad one, in particular – and you offered him comfort, kindness and understanding that rationally didn’t have any base since you weren’t a soldier of any kind, he questioned whether this was the last time. Whether this was the last drop into the metaphorical goblet of your patience with which it would overflow and you would finally break things off with him after a year being together, living with him for half of that time.

Steve closed his eyes, recalling your words from yesterday, ones that, at the time, fell to deaf ears.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you soothed him when he told you what had happened, how he had messed up and nearly got Natasha killed, which had resulted in Clint yelling at him for being incompetent for leading the team. “From what I hear, anyone would have made the same decision on their best conscience if they received the same intel – hell, this was the best option, they could have decided worse. You’re a great leader. And an amazing friend. The fact you’re beating yourself over something that was beyond anyone’s control only proves it. Let the guilt go.”

He had basked in your embrace and soothing voice, but the message you had been trying to send was not quite getting through, leaving him restless and feeling uneasy, drowning in self-doubt and pain.

Of course, being a bioengineer, having been the one to help developing actual painkillers and anaesthetics for him, you had also basically shoved the former down his throat because of his healing broken ribs, which caused him to sleep through your alarm and wake up at shamefully late hour.

Which meant he missed you and you had already must be on your way to France for symposium of biogenetics.

As if it wasn’t enough that he was questioning his yesterday’s decisions, his position in the team as a leader and a person to be begin with, and his life choices overall you weren’t here.

Maybe Clint was right; he might have been a captain, but in a name only. He fucked up royally and it could have cost his dear friend her life. He wasn’t what he had used to be. This century offered people much stronger, smarter and more capable than him, easily being able to replace him in the position.

His gut twisted at that idea, but perhaps this could be the time he should make space for someone else and just follow orders. Hell, he never wanted to lead in the first place! Not when he had first joined the army nearly a hundred years ago.

His sigh was the only sound in the screaming silence of the bedroom and Steve pushed himself to his feet, not surprised at all that his ribs only echoed the previous pain, and shuffled to the bathroom to have a shower.

Too sleepy and cranky to notice it earlier, he only found a sticky note – possibly having been on the mirror but peeling off because of the steam from the shower – in the bathroom sink.

Unwittingly, his lips curled up in a small smile when he recognized your messy handwriting.

Morning, Stevie. Find a little thing in our kitchen :)

Not bothering to wear more than his boxers, he obediently walked to your private kitchen. You both enjoyed breakfast with the team in the communal kitchen, but there were times you wanted some privacy, revelling in the moments you could have only for yourselves.

Kitchen? Had you managed to make him breakfast? Steve wasn’t hungry, his insides too tight for that, his mind too heavy, but he appreciated the gesture anyw-

He frowned when he found his laptop on the counter instead, a flash drive lying on top of it with another note. He wondered how could he not wake up with you moving around the apartment.

Please, play ‘PLAY ME’ video. I think it’ll be worth it. xxx

Steve found himself tilting his head to side, curious and confused. He couldn’t imagine you leaving something of a-- dirty nature for him, knowing the mood he had been in last night and yesterday in general. Sex was usually not the best way of cheering him up in such situation. As embarrassing as it might seem, he was more of a cuddler at times like these.

Not bothering with fixing himself breakfast, debating Natasha was probably still asleep in her bed in the med bay, he seated himself on the bar stool and heard out your plea.

He was not by any means ready for what was waiting for him after pressing play.

Whoever was filming was apparently not very good at it as the screen appeared to be shaking, but in the end, the device must have been placed on a steady surface and actually zoomed onto something concrete instead of showing a blur.

What surprised him more though was that it was Clint’s voice sounding from the speakers of his laptop, even before the screen showed his face.

“You for real? Do you realize what time it is…? --Oh, not as late as I thought actually. Ugh, okay. I guess that’s fair. You’re actually making this easier for me, you know that?”

Steve frowned, gulping as the voice of his teammate turned from annoyed to surprised to grateful. All of the emotions were far from what Steve had been met with yesterday’s afternoon after the mission.

The archer was seated on an empty bed in med bay, probably alone in the room (unless Steve counted the person who was filming), because there were no intrusive sounds. Steve wasn’t taken aback by the environment he found him in – after all, Clint probably spent a lot of time there, watching over his partner in both work and personal life. He fidgeted before looking directly to the camera.

“Okay. Here we go. Hey, Cap. Steve. I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday. I was being an ass,” he admitted, the annoyance back – this time though, it looked as if the source of his indignation was Clint himself. “You know… you know Tasha’s my whole world and seeing her almost blown up… it got the best of me. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. In fact, I think I’d give the same order. So… I’m sorry.”

Steve gulped, not entirely convinced. If he was being honest, the seeds of doubts had been planted and while Clint’s apology did lift some of the weight from Steve’s shoulders, genuinely appreciated, his mood remained rather sour and gloomy.

Confusion never left him either. He was 95% percent sure you had been the one to film the apology, but the reason behind such action was escaping him. Had Clint left with you, hence apologizing like this instead of in person? That wasn’t right. Why would he go with you?

Turned out, expecting that that was it, the end of the recording, was a mistake. The recording went on and Steve only now noticed what length the timer actually showed. It would go for… several minutes, actually.

That was strange.

Clint on the screen fidgeted and took a deep breath, exchanging a look with of whom Steve assumed was you.

“The truth is, I wouldn’t trade places with you. Like, ever. The pressure we put on you must be unbearable. I think we forget about that sometimes, what a toll it has to take on you. The responsibility on your shoulders has to weigh a fucking ton. We don’t say thank you enough and when we do, you shrug it off, because that’s what you do. Because you think that’s what’s expected of you.”

Steve blinked in surprise, the words striking him right in his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. What… why would Clint say that?

“And it is, but I want to tell you we appreciate it. We do. To actually fulfil my assignment, I should phrase it differently. I appreciate your modesty, your determination and the fact I can always rely on you. Except when your lady’s around. Then you kinda get lost in-”

A terribly aimed slipper hit the archer in his shoulder and the corners of Steve’s lips automatically twitched in amusement. Oh yeah, it was definitely you behind the camera, now he was sure. Familiar warmth spread around his heart when he realized you wanted to prove him that Clint not only didn’t blame him, but appreciated him even.

What had Steve even done to deserve you?

“-ouch!” the man in the recording complained, pretending to be wounded. “What? It’s the truth—fine. You’re just- you’re great, man, alright? That’s it.”

Steve nearly went for his phone that very second, wanting to let you know how much he loved you, even though his doubts didn’t go away.

The picture changing in a sharp cut made him stop as he spotted a flash of red hair.

Natasha. She was awake. It was undoubtedly her and in a recent footage, because Steve recognized that wound on her head – and she was lying in a hospital bed.

What in the world even…?

The tension in his shoulders eased despite his heart racing. She was smirking even.

“Hey there, you righteous guilty-driven ass!” she greeted him, only to be scolded by your voice from behind the camera.

“Nat!“

“I swear I’m about to make a point!” the spy protested, raising her uninjured hand in a gesture of surrender. “So from what I understand, you’ll get this video only in the morning and by that time, you’ll have already checked up on me for three times – or four, unless you bothered to find this recording first thing after waking up – despite doctors telling you I’d be fine every time you do.”

That-- was unsurprisingly accurate. What Natasha said was true – Steve had checked up on her three times before you had talked him into finally going to bed to get some sleep and he had been thinking about stopping by first thing after finishing this video.

It was almost infuriating how much Natasha knew him, but Steve was too relieved she was awake, speaking and calling him out on his bullshit to care.

“‘cause you’re fussing, Rogers. You’re a mother hen.”

Steve sighed. She was right once more. He had been said such, multiple times. But he felt responsible for his team, for his friends and you and he had seen too many deaths in both the past and the modern times to not to fuss.

“But you know what? We bitch about it, but we love it,” Natasha announced, her smirk softening into a smile. “Let’s be honest; our team needs a babysitter. Clint and Tony are giant children with dangerous weapons, not to mention oh so mighty Thor, I admit I can get cocky just to prove myself in the sea of testosterone from all of you and Bruce… you always try to get him in, showing him that he’s worthy as both the Hulk and his human self. You’re a mother hen with giant heart and you’re baring it for us, carrying it on your sleeve and putting in into everything you do. So… keep rolling. And for god’s sake, do not visit me again.”

Terrible wink followed, very unsubtle, as if she was telling him she was only kidding, but at the same time not quite, because he was overdoing it with his mother-henning.

And Steve found himself laughing at the glint in her eyes, feeling tears forming in his own. His limbs felt strangely floaty, as did his head. He couldn’t remember receiving so much compliments and support in a very long time, certainly not from the former assassin duo.

The sensation was pleasant, but oh so unusual, he couldn’t even describe it.

Of course, the fact you had orchestrated this whole this was not helping his lovesickness. It was hard to tell whether it was day or night from the footage, when exactly you did this, but he was aware of how nervous you were about the symposium. You should have been going through your notes for your presentation (for like… the tenth time, because for all your brilliance, you were a very nervous speaker, a bit like Bruce); instead, you spent your spare time doing this, only to make Steve feel better.

And the video was far from being over.

Surely enough, the scenery changed again, the camera aimed at a computer screen this time. Steve didn’t understand until he recognized Thor, who was currently spending his time with Jane Foster in New Mexico, video-conferencing with you.

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered under his breath, amazed.

“What is it, lady of Captain’s?” the alien demigod asked, frowning at the screen of his own computer. “This way of communication is still confusing, why are you writing when we can talk together? …Oh.”

The blond was silent for a moment, appearing in deep thought, before smiling broadly.

“Very well. What is of the Captain’s qualities. He’s a mighty warrior. A brave man I would always follow into battle without question. Excellent leader, always having his garrison’s safety in mind-“

A sting of guilt burned at Steve’s consciousness at that.

Did he? He always tried, sure… but was it enough? Yesterday’s incident was proving the opposite, yet he had been acting in utter belief that what he had decided was for the best, confident that the risk for his teammate was minimal. That was the problem with bad intel; they never knew it was bad until something blew up in their faces, sometimes literally. He could never predict what had happened.

And with each minute of this video, Steve felt he was letting a piece of the guilt go, along with doubt.

He wasn’t stupid; he knew that precisely that was the point of this thing, but… yeah, that realization did nothing against the fact that it was working.

“Steven radiates strength, both bodily and mentally and he is a great friend of all,” Thor on the screen continued in his loud voice. “I feel blessed by the Allfather and all Gods above for I encountered him and fought side-by-side with him as well celebrated victories. I look forward for more to come, always delighted by reconnecting with him.”

By the time Bruce in his lab coat appeared (seriously, how did you manage to get a hold of everyone? Steve wasn’t sleeping for that long, though it probably helped that half of his team, if not all, were insomniacs), Steve was breathless with anticipation, greedy for hearing what others had to say, no matter how selfish it made him.

He craved comfort and since you weren’t there… you obtained a different kind of comfort for him and shit, was it working.

“Uh. I’m not good at this-”

“Try? Please?” you asked the scientist softly and Steve could imagine your soothing smile, the gentle hope and plea in your eyes. Steve could never deny you when you asked something of him like that and when you stooped even lower and used your puppy eyes, he stood no chance.

“He’s lucky to have you, you know,” Bruce noted and Steve’s smile widened when you sounded flustered at that remark.

“Bruce…”

“What? You’re an important part of him we appreciate. But I understand complimenting you isn’t the point of this. Just let me… eh. Alright. I think I got it. I’m not good at talking, but I’m gonna try,” he exclaimed, clearly determined. He wasn’t looking directly into the camera, but that didn’t steal any significance from his words.

“Steve, I hope you don’t beat yourself over what happened yesterday. I mean… I know you do, but my point is – don’t. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. You do what you believe is right and we know you long enough to know that that moral compass of yours is as important as your quick decisions in the field – right ones. But what is even more important and why I appreciate you is that… you try to see that piece of goodness in everyone. You see it in Nat, who sure made some questionable things in the past. You see through Tony’s façade and… you see good in me. You look and you see good in people – and every creature – and that’s the best thing about you. Ugh… yeah, I don’t think I can do more.”

He smiled awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers then and lowering his gaze.

It was easy to imagine what – or rather who – was coming next. Steve wasn’t confident he could take it. He had felt an uncomfortable stinging in his eyes two people back, few tears at bay, but he wanted to watch the rest.

The floating sensation overwhelmed his brain and he was honestly surprised he was still breathing, because he felt too stunned to do so. And he felt… moved. Appreciated. Cherished. Hell, he even felt the confidence he needed in the field to the exact quick decisions Bruce had mentioned slowly returning.

His team, his friends… they trusted him. They doubted him less than he doubted himself.

The picture got blurry once more, Tony’s incredulous voice crystal clear.

“So you want me to make a video equivalent of a love letter to him,” the billionaire stated sceptically and despite himself, Steve grinned.

Tony was a complicated person, but leave it to him to be sarcastic and lift the spirit in his own very specific way.

“No! That’s not- Tony. Please?”

“You know, this puppy eyes shit only works on Rogers, not-“ he wavered and Steve laughed as the recording cleared and focused on Tony’s torn expression. Oh, he was going to give in to Steve’s amazing girl, Steve could tell. “-shit. I can’t believe you’re making me do this. You’re infuriating.”

“I know,” you sing-sang as Tony sunk further into the chair in his workshop. “And thanks.”

“Fine. Hey, Capsicle.”

Steve could practically hear your eyeroll at the nickname and for a good measure, he rolled his eyes too. Capsicle. It used to irritate him more, the word Stark used the first time they met. Now it was-- Steve was only mildly annoyed when Tony called him that. There were worse names he had been called.

“Steve. I bet you know, unlike like Miss America over here, that I only give nicknames to people I like,” Tony made a point, looking at you with a smirk and Steve was sure a light-bulb appeared above his own head as he realized that… it actually made sense.

“There aren’t many of those and even less of them realize that they are part of that exclusive club. Look, I do stupid shit. I built robots for fun and to cover for the fact I couldn’t exactly fight without them, and I’m terrible with people. Fury didn’t even want me on the Avengers initiative, because I’m known for being a selfish bastard and not a team player, which you recognized within five minutes of meeting me.”

Steve felt rather bad for such an early assumption. Admittedly, he had been harsh on the man, letting the information he had received cloud his judgement and became a willing victim of prejudice. Hearing Tony self-reflecting his faults, eating the humble pie, it only proved how wrong Steve had been. Hell, Tony had turned out to be the man to make the sacrifice the very same day Steve had accused him of his inability to do so.

Which was why Tony’s next words knocked the air out of Steve’s lungs very effectively, striking his heart with deadly precision. He honestly had no idea what to do with the knowledge he obtained now.

“The thing is, your stupid blond ass is making me want to change that. I hate saying this, because I’m aware it can be used against me, but you’re my friend. I respect you and I admire you. You inspire people. I will always brag about the time I carried a nuke into a wormhole, but the truth is, as much as I liked Coulson and his death was something that brought us together, without you, I don’t think I would have done it. I will bitch about you, I will call you names, I will be an arrogant ass, because that’s who I am, but it won’t change the fact I look up to you. …‘kay. I think that I did ok-- are you crying?”

Steve shook himself, for a moment swearing Tony could see him and spoke directly to him. He quickly blinked away the few tears, shocked to his very core.

Tony… was claiming to take the risk of dying during the battle of New York, because… Steve had inspired him? What the actual-

“Shut up,” you murmured at Tony’s accusation and Steve couldn’t blame you one bit for the tears he couldn’t see. He was such a mess himself. This was too much.

What Tony had said, what you had done for him, what everyone shared through this recording--

He wanted to close the laptop shut and deal with the raging sea of emotions, the silly laugh and tears threatening to spill in waterfalls, the feeling of his heart swelling and nearly bursting in his chest, making it difficult to breathe, his head spinning-

But the video was still not over.

The scenery didn’t quite change, except the chair Tony had been sitting in was empty now, his voice sounding as he spoke from a different angle to the device.

“Come on, doc, you have to do this too, otherwise it won’t count. Do it for the old man. Should I leave so my virgin ears don’t bleed on the dirty things you-“

“Tony… shut up.”

Steve could hear your sigh and heavy hesitant steps and then you appeared in the frame, seating into the chair with a discontent frown, fidgeting nervously.

Steve thought his mouth might actually tear with how widely he was smiling now. You were adorable as the camera revealed you in all your glory – Steve’s long t-shirt you usually slept in and a pair of baggy sweatpants you wore when you were cold, as well as a light sweater thrown over your shoulders. Which, given how tired you looked, made sense, because you were always cold when you didn’t get enough sleep.

Steve hadn’t thought he could get any more touched by what you did, but seeing you now, he assessed the sacrifice you had made just to make him feel better all over again, the severity of your actions hitting him.

What you had done must have been a spontaneous action; you had actually filmed all of those things in the late night and early morning. Tired, with no make-up on yet, but smiling that nervous sweet smile, you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You were not looking to the camera, worrying your teeth over your lip.

“Okay, okay…. Please, look directly to the camera and state your name and date of birth for the record,” Tony encouraged you, indulging the moment your roles reversed.

“I’m not doing that,” you hissed, but then you raised your gaze and Steve’s heart stopped. Despite the exhaustion on your face, your eyes radiated warmth and tenderness. “Hey, Stevie. I guess Tony has a point for once-“

“Hey-!“

“-and since I came up with this, I should contribute. But where do I even start?” you wondered as if you truly had to wonder, as if there were too many things to point out. Steve craved having you in his arms to hug you profusely and kiss the living daylight of you for being so sweet and precious.

“And they all gave names to your qualities so well! Uhm… now, I don’t have a first-hand experience with your Avenging, so I can leave out this part of you, but there is still so much to love about you. First of all, you’re kind. Such a gentle soul, such a giver. You’ve been kicked down so many times and yet here you are, not yelling at me when I eat too much chocolate and then complain about stomach-ache and my belly being too soft-“ Steve chuckled at that, recalling way too many times that situation occurred. “I bet that watching this video, you’re still thinking I look cute instead of acknowledging I look like shit. Because you seek the beauty in everything and you love the world. It was one of the first things I noticed about you-“

“Right after his ass and muscles, no doubt mesmerized by his sky-blue eyes,“ Tony hummed from the background, effectively startling Steve who had honestly let the fact that Tony was even there slip from his mind, too lost in your love declarations.

“Fuck you, Tony. And his eyes are not sky-blue, they have a little green in them.“

“Really? Jarvis, show me a good picture…”

“Anyway. You give so much and don’t ask anything in return. Sometimes I can see how much you want to, but you never do. It’s like you don’t expect to get it anyway, not even the little things. As if you didn’t deserve it. Newsflash, Stevie, you do. You deserve the world. I wish I could give it to you…”

Oh, you’re doing that, sweetheart, Steve wished to tell you, but even if he had you on the phone at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to say a word with his throat constricted with the overwhelming emotions.

“And the world itself won’t come crushing down over a mistake that wasn’t even in your power to avoid and it won’t break down if you take a breath and relax. I always think I’m on the right way to convince you about that, but then you shy away from it. You matter, Stevie. You, Steven Grant Rogers, matter so much. Everyone pointed out at least one thing about you and not the Captain and that’s not a coincidence. Despite everything, you’re only human, we remember that and we all love you for it.”

“Some more than others…” Tony interrupted again, his voice carrying a hoarseness as if he was affected by your speech as well. You pointedly ignored him.

“Don’t forget that. I have it from a good source that a guy once told you that everything special about you came from a bottle. We both know that’s a load of bullshit. Even Doctor Erskine recognized how special you were and decided to choose you. Good becomes great, you told me he said. Well, sure. It just needed an opportunity to show. Let’s be honest, I have no doubt that your stubbornness and other tiny flaws amplified too, because you’re unbelievable sometimes, but that’s okay. In the end, you’re the best man I have ever met and I am lucky and feel proud to be called yours. I love you, Stevie. So much,” your voice lowered to a whisper and with a tight smile, you lightly kissed your fingers and nearly touched the lens of the camera.

Steve choked on a watery laugh. You really were too cute for words. A brilliant scientist, one of the most intelligent women the world knew, and here you were being adorable and utterly devoted to him.

Christ, he didn’t deserve you.

“Stupid allergies…” Tony complained, fooling no one as his voice came out scratchy from the lump that no doubt formed in his throat. “You done?”

To Steve’s utter surprise, you shook your head, drying a stray tear that escaped your eyes as well, but the corners of your lips twitched in attempted smile.

“Just a sec. I’m sorry, I want to edit this video more, cut some parts out, but I’ll probably run out of time and I want you to have it in the morning. It’s a bit messy, but I hope with all my heart that you received the message loud and clear.” You have no idea. “Also, sorry for the killer dose of painkillers and sneaking out without a goodbye. I’d be pissed if you did that to me, so… you know, sorry. I promise to make it up to you when I’m back-”

“Ouch, ouch! That’s what I was talking about, I did not want to hear that! I’m scarred for life!” Tony howled dramatically and Steve didn’t even had energy to roll his eyes. He was a complete mess.

“Tony? You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re too good to be true, doc. I think you gotta get on the plane in like thirty minutes, so-“

A look of utter shock and horror appeared on your face and you jumped from the chair with admirable energy for such an early hour and the all-nighter you pulled. “Shit, shit shit-- I’m not gonna edit it at all then, dammit-“

“Nah, I bet it’s better without it, more authentic. Go write a note or something equally sickeningly sweet that you romantics do-”

“Turn it off, you goof!” you giggled, reaching for the camera and the screen went black as if on command.

Steve sat on the bar stool for several minutes, staring on the screen absently, grinning and feeling… so indescribably loved he couldn’t quite contain it.

What you had done-

Feeling like an idiot for not doing it earlier, he sprang towards the bedroom to get his phone, typing a message to you. If he remembered correctly, you might still be on your way, but sometimes it was hard to tell with Tony’s inventions.

S: Have a safe flight and nice stay, sweetheart. You’ll rock. x

S: And thank you for what you’ve done. I don’t deserve you.

His heart skipped a beat when the phone chimed in response almost instantly.

♥: Clearly, you weren’t paying enough attention when watching. Go play it again, Stevie.

He grinned. Apparently, despite the lack of sleep and the nerves he had seen every time you had thought of your presentation, you were fine.

His heart felt too big for his ribcage, squishing his lungs as it grew in size, barely being able to let out a laugh.

S: I did!

S: Correction then: thank you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ll always be grateful for you and I love you more than anything.

This time, he expected the early comeback.

♥: Love you too. Miss you already! xxx

Steve set the phone down with a goofy smile plastered over his face and went to watch the video again – the part with you anyway.

He could go and check on Natasha later. After all, she told him not to do that again anyway.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

I should be posting Errare Humanum Est and Attached, but I was feeling a bit down and overwhelmed with schoolwork, so I dusted off this baby for you. I hope you enjoyed :-*

Steve deserves some love from his girl and from his teammates. I actually considered writing this with few alternations so it was Peter doing the video (as a non-relationship kind of thing), but I guess this is even sweeter... in a romantic way anyway.

Thank you for reading!

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carllisle · 4 years ago

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The Second Mrs Cullano

As we all know, Esme Platt is not Carlisle Cullano’s first wife, nor is she his second - she is actually his third. But she is the love of his life, the reason for his breathing, and so when he marries for the second time, it’s clear that wives are nothing to soulmates.

Esme Platt enjoys the wedding of Carlisle Cullano and the Second Mrs Cullano.

Dedicated to my literal partner in this crime, @notquitetwilight, and to our collective projection onto cringe New Jersey mob show stereotypes. Special shoutout to @stregoni-benefici and @carlislesscarf.

Esme felt a soft kiss on her shoulder and smiled. Sun was pouring through the open windows of her bedroom and there was a soft breeze that lifted her hair. He was still here. He shouldn’t have been.

“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin. “You smell so good.”

Esme rolled onto her stomach and curled around her pillow with her smile broadening. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“You kicking me out?”

“No. But I’ve got things to do, too, you know?”

Carlisle lay next to her and stroked her caramel hair, his face close to hers on her pillow. She cracked open an eye and watched him watch her. “Can I stay with you?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Not for long. For breakfast, though, if you make it.”

“I don’t wanna leave this bed.”

“You’re gonna have to at some point, baby. You’ve got responsibilities today.”

“Tell me to stay, Esme. Tell me not to do it.” He ran a strong hand over her neck and gently wrapped it around her throat, fingers tilting her jaw to the side.

She laughed quietly, sleep making her mind hazy. “No. I want you to have a wife and a family. You’ve always wanted that, but I haven’t. I still want to be me for a while yet.”

“You wouldn’t stop being you just for being my wife.”

Esme took the hand around her throat and brought it up to kiss. Carlisle closed her eyes at the touch of her lips. “We’ve talked about this, for years. Decades. I can be your person, but I can’t be your wife. I won’t be anyone’s wife again.”

“I’m not anyone. Please, Esme. Marry me.”

She stretched her arms up and laughed. “Not today!” But she rolled over and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, loving him as best she could in the soft sunrise.

After, they followed their usual routine of showering together and dressing. Since their days of teenage love they enjoyed the quiet of domesticity. Outside the walls of their homes wars raged on their streets but in her old house, in his sprawling estates, it was just them, and today was no different. He zipped her skirt and she buttoned his shirt and they walked arm in arm down the street for coffee and bagels. They took a booth at the back of the cafe, although it didn’t matter if anyone saw them - they had never been a secret. Besides, they both kept guns strapped to them and knives hidden in their jackets and coats.

Esme leaned back in her chair, blowing steam off the top of her coffee. “You’re sure about this one?”

Carlisle regarded her over his phone and considered the question. “Yeah. It’s gotta be someone, why not her?”

“It doesn’t have to be someone,” she reminded him gently. “You could go it alone. Well, as alone as you will ever be. You’ve always got me.”

“Yeah. But I want someone. I want a wife. And the wife I want doesn’t want me, so I gotta choose the next best thing. Besides, you know her family’s reputation, that’s nothing to turn my nose up at.”

“Ever the pragmatist.”

He gave her one of the smiles he saved just for her. “Aw, you hurt me, Es. I do like her. She’s got spirit, and she’s smart as hell. She likes the high life and she wants kids sooner rather than later, and… and she makes me laugh. She makes me feel wanted.”

“I think most of the east coast wants you,” Esme said quietly, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t that she was jealous - how could she be, when he made her feel so adored all the time? - but it irritated her that this woman was able to give him what he wanted, and she couldn’t. One marriage to the wrong man had ruined the institution for her and now not even Carlisle could heal that wound. Yes, her first husband had died violently at her hand for his transgression, but that wasn’t the point. The transgression had occured in the first place. That was frightening.

“Don’t be angry, darling. You know it’s still you.” Carlisle reached over the table and stroked her hand and Esme felt safe again. She held his gaze and nodded slightly. “It’ll always be you. You’re mine, before anyone and everyone else.”

She smiled, her mood improved. He had always been happy to declare his feelings with her, and even now, on the morning of his wedding to another woman, in a nondescript coffee shop, he made her feel like the most adored woman. On the middle finger of her right hand she still wore the first expensive ring he had ever bought her, and it cost as much as her parents’ house. It was a gaudy thing, a thick diamond set on a band of smaller cut gems that they had chosen together the day after she killed Charles. It was Carlisle’s promise to her - that no matter who else came along, no matter what the world threw at them, they would love each other before anyone and anything else. He wore a similar ring she bought him on his little finger of his right hand. They never took their rings off. His first wife had hated it - understandably - but she had got her share in the divorce when Carlisle had refused to forsake Esme. She looked down at the ring and it sparkled. She’d had it cleaned for the wedding today especially.

“Are you sure me coming today is a good idea?” she asked after a long moment.

He squeezed the hand he held. “Yeah. I need you there.”

“She’ll be mad.”

“She’s always got something to be mad about. Besides, she knows the deal and you’re non-negotiable.”

“I don’t want to upset anyone on their wedding day, Carlisle.”

He shifted his chair around the table and leaned closer to her. “What about me? You wanna upset me on my wedding day?”

She bit her lip and grinned. “I never want to upset you.”

“Then be a good girl. Come for me.” He rested his hand on her thigh under the table and Esme glanced around the cafe. No one paid them any mind. “Look at me.”

She met her lover’s piercing gaze and bit her lip.

“You gonna come for me?”

She nodded and gasped quietly when he rewarded her with a kiss. Esme could taste the coffee on Carlisle’s lips. He wanted her, he needed her, and she would never let him down.

Esme’s cousin begrudgingly helped her get ready for the wedding. She said it was indecent for the mistress to turn up, let alone in a red silk dress barely held together by strands of diamonds across the back, but Esme smugly told her the groom had bought it for her especially, and who was she to refuse him? As a precaution she strapped her Colt Python to her thigh - it was an old machine, temperamental, but it made her feel powerful and she had a more reliable weapon in her clutch, as well as blades hidden in her shoes - and touched up her hair. Curls pinned to her head, diamonds dripping from her ears, and Carlisle’s dress draped across her, Esme felt more sensual than ever. When she sat in the pew at the wedding mass and thought of how the groom had sighed between her thighs mere hours before, she felt holy. She sat with his cousins a few rows back and even when the blushing bride strutted down the aisle, he couldn’t keep his eyes from Esme for long.

They were lucky to be able to have a Roman Catholic service as everyone knew that Carlisle’s first marriage had been valid, but enough money had been slipped to the dioceses to push through an annulment, and so in the eyes of the Church this was his first marriage. There was some humour in that. The familiar words were spoken, hymns and prayers recited, and after what felt like a lifetime, and no time at all, Carlisle was walking down the aisle with the new Mrs Cullano on his arm. Sadness twinged at Esme’s stomach. That could have been me. It should have been. He’s mine.

The reception was tolerable, enjoyable in its tackiness and extravagance. Everything was white and puffy and the hundreds of guests stuffed into the grand ballroom of the coastal hotel were drunk within the first course. It was how a Jersey wedding should have been, though, and Esme appreciated it for what it was. By the time the first dance came, she was lightly buzzed and enjoying catching up with the biggest names in east coast crime, many of whom were old family friends. Business people and politicians, state senators and property moguls joined them too, tying together the legitimate and illegitimate powers that kept the region affluent and fun, and most didn’t know where the legality ended and illegality started. By the time Esme snorted a line of cocaine from the chest of a mayor’s daughter she didn’t much care and the pair fell about laughing in the bathroom. As if called by the sound of Esme’s happiness, the moment was cut short by the sound of the bride herself outside.

“Lisa, can you fucking help me? This dress is a fucking nightmare, you gotta hold it up, okay?”

“You better go,” Esme advised the girl, no older than twenty-two by the looks of it, “before you meet Bridezilla up close and personal.”

The girl giggled and darted from the bathroom just as the bride scrambled her way through the door. The dress she had chosen was appropriately enormous, tight on top and blooming into an extravagant ball gown from the waist down, and Esme wasn’t surprised that she needed three bridesmaids to help her through the door.

“God, I’m dying to sit down properly-” she moaned over her shoulder before her eyes fell on Esme. Esme patted around her nose, watching her own pretty reflection in the mirror. “Oh. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I responded to your invitation,” Esme replied mildly. “Lovely dress.” She turned her attention to her lipstick and dotted a fresh coat on, pointedly ignoring the bride.

The second Mrs Cullano turned back to her bridesmaids and then looked at Esme, dithering between the two. There was a long pause before she turned to her entourage. “Stay outside. Make sure no one comes in, alright?” The bridesmaids made noises of agreement and the door swung shut, and then it was just Esme and Carlisle’s new wife.

After Mrs Cullano said nothing, Esme broke the silence. “You’ve organised a wonderful day. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Mrs Cullano’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not happy you’re here.”

“Oh?”

“I know why you’re here.”

“To see one of my dearest friends marry the woman he loves, of course.”

“Don’t play cute.”

Esme smiled sweetly. “You think I’m cute?”

“Cut the shit.”

She sighed and looked at the bride. “What’s on your mind, Mrs Cullano?”

“It’s real tacky you’re here, you know?”

“He wants me here. I came because he asked me to be here. I wouldn’t be here without an invitation.”

“I didn’t invite you.”

Esme pulled her invitation from her clutch and handed it to her. “Yes, you did.”

The bride threw it aside, angry. “Give up! I won! He doesn’t want you!”

Esme smiled at her sadly. There was nothing to say that could bring the bride any comfort. The truth was, Carlisle did want her. He wanted her more than anyone and anything, but that didn’t matter to this woman. This woman knew she had just pledged her life to a man who couldn’t love her completely. She was angry for it. “He’s my friend,” was all she could say.

“Get new friends.”

“I won’t stand in the way of your happiness, Mrs Cullano, or his. Above anything else, I love him and I want him to have the most wonderful life. I can’t give him the life he wants, but you can. Why would I jeopardize that?”

It was the wrong thing to say in hindsight. Esme knew that the moment the bride launched at her with murder in her eyes. Her clawing fingers reached out and she managed to get in one good scratch before Esme had her arms locked behind her and ready to pop from their joints. “Easy,” she whispered against Mrs Cullano’s ear. The acrylics on her fingers made her face sting, but the skin hadn’t been broken. “Calm down. Like you said, you won, you’re his wife. Don’t fight me for anything more, because you will lose, do you understand me?”

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano gasped.

Esme tightened her grip and the bride hissed. “Yes. Raise a hand to me again and Carlisle’s love for you will not save you. You want to see who he will really choose if it comes down to it? Because I do not have my doubts. Do you?”

Just as the bride’s whines rose in volume along with her pain, Esme let her go. She gripped under her elbow and held her upright to stop her from falling. “You got in a good scratch, I’ll give you that. But work on your attack and maybe you’ll take out an eye next time, alright? You’ll need protection if you’re going to love him.”

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano asked again.

There was no kindness left in Esme’s eyes. “Yes.”

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. The new bride broke first. Esme sniffed and checked her reflection before stalking out of the bathroom, not a hair out of place. She pulled on the diamond strap of her dress and was close to the ballroom door when Carlisle stepped out. His smile was so bright when he saw her and he reached for her hands. When he noticed the scratches across her face his forehead creased.

“What happened?” he asked, tender fingers touching the marks. Across the corridor there was a set of glass doors open to the terrace, and it was dark out there. There were a few wedding guests milling around but quick steps had the pair hidden in the gloom. Overhead, stars popped across the inky sky. With her arm in Carlisle’s, they found their way down garden paths and to the beach. No one saw them.

“Your wife doesn’t like me,” Esme told him, smiling. His face was barely visible in the darkness but his bright hair caught the light of the stars. Their walk eventually slowed as their shoes crunched on the sand.

“She did this?”

Esme nodded. “It’s alright, she deserved to get in a good swipe. It won’t happen again, though.”

“No, it won’t,” Carlisle replied angrily. “Who does she think she is?”

“The new Mrs Cullano, protecting the honour of her marriage,” Esme pointed out with a light laugh. “I’d do the same. I don’t mind, really. I understand her anger.”

“Esme,” he said, his voice softening. “How can I love someone who hurt you?”

“You’re the only one who can hurt me, Carlisle.” She wound an arm around the back of his shoulders and closed her eyes when he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know.” And he never had. Not with a hand, not with a word. No one had ever loved anyone like Carlisle loved Esme, and she knew it. “You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve you?”

Carlisle rested one hand at the small of her back and ran the fingers of his other hand up her spine. “Thank you for wearing this dress. You look beautiful.”

She smiled in the night. “Thank you for choosing it for me.”

“Gotta let the whole world see how wonderful my girl is.”

“Call me that again.”

“My girl?”

She hummed and began gently swaying, moving him to dance with her to the sound of the ocean. “You’re my person, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re my person. Always have been. Always will be.”

Carlisle’s soft kiss touched Esme’s cheek and she sighed in bliss. “I love you, Carlisle.”

“I love you, too, Esme. More than anything. Always.”

#the cullanos #ellie writes #notquitetwilight #remember how this started as shitposting #and now theres lore and emotions #anyway guys new blog coming soon who's pumped LMFAOOOO #carlesme #the literal MOST ooc carlesme you'll ever read #BUT ITS FUN AND KINDA SEXY SO #esme fucks carlisle on the morning of his wedding to someone else

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pandajaye · 4 years ago

Text

steam [one shot]

Characters: Endeavor/Enji Todoroki, OC!Ivy Emaraki-Todoroki, Kid!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Wife!OC!Ivy Emaraki-Todoroki

Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

Warnings: abuse, burning, crying, yelling, name calling, angry male, weak female, melancholy at first

Words: 3,230

Shatter. Everyone usually freezes when they hear that sound. It’s almost frightening. When glass breaks, that could mean that someone could get hurt. It could also mean that someone got or is getting hurt. This time it meant a little of both. Maybe it wasn’t even glass. Maybe it was someone’s heart.

It was raining outside. Most people hate the rain but Ivy liked it. It made her relax. The coolness it gave to the whole world. The water it could give to some little stray puppy or kitten on the street. The softness it gave the earth so that the grass and crops could grow. How generous. Generosity isn’t measured in just quantity necessarily, but also quality. It shows in different aspects. Especially in a person. Ivy loved Enji. Ivy loves Enji. He’s so generous when it comes to gifts and expensive things. It’s all very nice but.... it’s not what she wants from him. She wants him to be generous with his feelings. With his feelings about her. She wanted him to be generous about how he felt about everything. How did he feel about angels? About demons? He works so much. So hard. Even on this day off, he’s still working from home. He says he loves to work but Ivy just doesn’t believe him. She can’t. He needs to be generous to himself. He needs to give himself a break.

“I know you’re busy but I wanted to bring you some tea. I’m not gonna say anything else. I just....” Ivy trailed off. She wasn’t going to say anything else because she knew it’d make him frustrated but she had to say it. “Make sure to take a break, Enji. You need it. You deserve it.” She watched his back for a second as he continued to type. When the clacking of keys stopped, she braced herself for the icy stare she’d get in return for waiting for him to respond. How did Mr. Hellfire even give such a cold stare? One of his most powerful moves is Prominence Burn and yet.... he could still send chills down her spine. In bad and good ways. If only it was the good chill this time.

“Thank you for the tea. Is there anything else?” He looked at her. She looked so scared of him. Maybe that’s good. Maybe that’s what he wants right now. For her to be frightened. Intimidated. Maybe then she’ll leave him alone. To avoid his gaze, she looked down at the floor. Her hands folded and her head down. “I-I was just saying that.. I think you should.. take.... a break-” BOOM. His fist slammed down on his desk. The tea in front of him jumped and became animated with large ripples before calming down. “Dammit, woman. Why can’t you get it through your head? I’m the number one Hero! I can’t simply stop working just because you want some fucking attention.”

This was the only thunder Ivy hated. The way his voice mimicked it. Loud and powerful and scary. It filled her with fear but what he said mad her mad. “I didn’t fucking say do it for me, did I?” A tear quickly dropped to the floor. This was a new reaction. And he didn’t like it one bit. “Excuse me?” He turned in his office chair to face her completely. She must be crazy to speak to him that way. “I said.... I didn’t fucking say do it for me. You work so much. Don’t you think you deserve it?” Enji just glared in silence. He didn’t have time to listen to this. He didn’t care. The world’s going to shit and it’s on his shoulders to protect his country and be the new symbol after All Might.

Through his silence, even if he was still gonna be stubborn, Ivy continued. “And if not for yourself then for your kids. Do you know how they’re doing mentally? Emotionally? You need to take time out of being a hero and be a father.” The flame of his beard started to grow. He was starting to get mad so he turned back to his work and continued to try to ignore her. She understood what he was doing and stayed persistent. She needed to get him to understand what she was doing, what she was trying to help him realize.

“When was the last time you actually sat down and talked with your children? When’s the last time you asked about their new interests or any goals they have or things they might be struggling with?” Enji shrugged. “I know those things about Shoto. I learn about them during training. He’s interested in increasing his aiming accuracy. That’s his goal. That’s what he’s struggling with.” Was he serious? That unhealthy obsession with training a six almost seven year old that still enjoys bedtime stories and being tucked in at night. “No! Not training, Enji! Outside of that. I’m talking about literally anything besides that.” Exactly. Unhealthy. Obsession.

“And what about Touya? He’s your son, too. You can’t just throw him and his feelings away!” “THEN MAYBE HE SHOULD BE BETTER SO THAT I DON’T HAVE TO WASTE TIME ON A FUTURE THAT’S GOING NOWHERE IN THIS WORLD!!” He had snapped and slammed his fists on the table again. How could someone speak that way about their child? It honestly shocked and hurt her to hear it. “....Wow. You may be the new number one but you’re not a god damn symbol, you’re a fucking dumpster fire.” This isn’t good. She needs to stop, she’s only making it worse. “You don’t deserve the title....” Don’t say it. Don’t dare say it. “Toshi does.” She said it. That was a very bad call on her part. “Maybe you shouldn’t continue to speak.” He turned back to her, his entire face a blaze. She looked angry too but it couldn’t compare. “You could never surpass someone with an actual heart. Your promotion by default was no accident. It’s what you deserve because you could never earn it. Hell, you didn’t even earn your wife. YOU HAD TO DAMN BUY HER! AND WHY?! CAUSE YOU WANTED TO BREED WITH HER FOR HER DAMN QUIRK!” He stood, his fists were now on fire. “I told you to stop. Talking.” “Or what? You’re gonna killed me like you killed Rei? Is that what you’re gonna do? Oh ple-” FWOOSH

As soon as those last words fell from her lips, there was a flash of red and orange and yellow. She ducked and turned to see a burn spot on the wall behind her. He had hurled a fireball at her and she barely got out of the way in time. “What.... THE HELL?!” She turned back to see Enji approaching her, another fireball ready to go. “ENJI STOP!” But he didn’t. Instead he threw another one as she rushed out of the way and stumbled into the living room. “STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME UNTIL YOU LEARN HOW TO CALM YOUR ASS DOWN!!” Just as Ivy got back onto her feet and took two steps, he tackled her. She shut her eyes and shook her head, she didn’t even wanna look up at him, she was terrified. Her wrists were pinned on either side of her while he straddled her waist. “IT’S YOUR OWN FAULT, YOU QUIRKLESS BITCH! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE PRESSURE ON MY SHOULDERS AND YOU WANNA BE DISRESPECTFUL TOWARDS ME?! WHAT A DISGRACEFUL TRAMP!”

There were tears in her eyes as she struggled. She tried to lift up but he slammed her back down hard. “GET OFF OF ME!! I DON’T WANNA BE HERE!! PLEASE?! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” Her cries didn’t phase him. He didn’t care. Maybe if she had better control of her mouth she wouldn’t be in this position. That’s how he was feeling about the situation. “WHERE THE HELL ELSE WOULD YOU GO?! BACK TO THE STREETS?!”Quickly, Ivy managed to wiggle from underneath him and tried to crawl away but he grabbed the hem of her shorts and pulled her right back down. Her eyes were wide with fear at how much force he used. Or maybe she was just weak? Either way, it frightened her. And his hurtful words only continued to make her feel worse. “YOU’VE GOT NOTHING!! NO ONE IN YOU CORNER BUT ME! YOU THINK ANYONE ELSE COULD LOVE SUCH AN INGRATE LIKE YOU?! YOUR OWN FAMILY DIDN’T WANT YOU, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK ANYONE ELSE WOULD?!” A try at escaping was met with him slamming her back down, pinning one of her arms on her back. She winced at the pain as tears flowed down her face. “YOU BELONG HERE AND YOU BELONG TO ME!!” He took a quick glance at the back of her bare thigh and got a terrible idea. “And I’ll make sure you never forget it....”

Ivy quit struggling and a look of terror washed over her face as well as a wave of terror down her spine. What was he thinking? Suddenly, a searing white pain caused her to cry out. Enji had heated his hand and pressed it into her flesh, branding her with the mark of his hand. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!! ENJI, STOP IT!!!! LET ME GO!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! YOU’RE HURTING ME, PLEASE, STOP!!!!” Her free hand clawed and pounded the floor beneath them as she yelped and screamed. The pain almost made her nauseous. It was horrible.

When he finally did let up, she used her hands and one leg to crawl away. She struggled a bit before she could stand up on her own, still having to limp. “I DON’T WANNA BE IN A HOUSE WITH A FUCKING ABUSIVE MANIAC!!” Ivy limped out into the courtyard and stood in the rain. It was gonna be hell on high water combing her hair out later but she just needed to be outside right now. She tried to turn and look at the back of her thigh to see the damage but couldn’t manage so she felt the injury. It stung, especially with the rain flowing down her body. It was bad, deep. A scar that would never heal completely was it’s fate.

“GET BACK IN THIS HOUSE, NOW!!” Enji began stomping towards her, still furious. As soon as he stepped into the rain his flame’s began dying down, steam rising from his body. A good method for people when they got extremely angry was to put them under a cold shower and let it distract them from how emotional they were until they felt better. It was working for this angry ball of fire with a man in the center. Just like the steam, his anger left his body. He looked to the sky as it soaked him and made him forget about his current situation. When he looked back down and saw her, he was reminded. Her eyes were wide and energized with pain and upset and fear. Was he going to start again? Should she run? She kept her distance since she was unsure. When he took a step towards her, she backed up. “....shit.” He fucked up. She closed her eyes and looked up to the sky, letting the rain wash over her face.

“I-Ivy.... I’m so sor-” “You feel it, too?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” She sighed, her head falling back as she continued to experience the weather. “The rain, how it feels on your skin.” Ivy looked down at the ground. “Even though it’s bad to get my hair was too often, I still like how the rain feels. It’s calm. And gentle. It can get rough but, right now, it’s okay.” Her gaze shifted up to him. “It didn’t hurt before. But now it stings when.... w-when it touches my leg....” There was a lump of guilt in Enji’s throat that he attempted to swallow away but it was stuck. He looked at the wet ground beneath him in shame for what he’d done to her. “But even though it burns me, Enji.... I still love it.” Now he was the one with a tear going down his face. Not for any pain caused to him, but caused by him. It was that same lump of guilt. It’s like it went into his bloodstream and flowed through his body. “Because water is a necessity. We need it. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt and it doesn’t mean that I like the pain. I still stay because I need it.... even if it doesn’t need me.”

They stood there for a few more seconds before Ivy started to limp back inside. Enji reached to help her but she leaned away. He was nice enough to respect that she needed space between them right now. Since it rained and her hair was already wet, Ivy decided to make the rest of today her wash day. Within a few hours, her hair was clean, dry, and twisted so she’d have nice curls for the next day. Usually it took hours but tonight finished right around dinner time and headed to the kitchen to get started. When she entered, there was already a bowl of her favorite dish, King prawn yaki soba, waiting for her. There weren’t even dishes for her to clean. A small, weak smile appeared on her face. He was trying to apologize. Trying to make up for his mistake.

Ivy checked in on Enji. Still working. She decided to not make a big fuss this time and accepted that this was how he found his peace. After she finished dinner and washed her dish, it was time to turn in for the night. A few minutes after she had gotten into bed, Enji came. He was holding a roll of bandages and an ice pack. “If it’s okay with you.... I.... I’d like to tend to your injury. I’m sure you can do it on your own but I want to make sure it’s right so you can sleep well.” He waited to hear a no but got the opposite answer. “Sure.” He walked to her side of the bed and kneeled while she held her leg out for him. It hurt to move but the pain wasn’t too terrible. She just bit her lip to keep from wincing. Really he was quite gentle. He knew his partner had a bad tolerance for pain and really wanted to make sure that the process was painless as possible. When he finished, he kissed her leg and it made her giggle. “That was really sweet. Thanks, hun.” Enji looked up at her before nodding and getting up with a groan. He helped lift her put her leg back up before getting ready for bed himself.

When he did finally come to bed, he tried to be silent but being a giant he was bound to make some noise. But it was sweet that he made an attempt. Their usual set up was really close together but tonight he gave her some distance. When she felt that he wasn’t close to her like normal, she scooted back to be against him and reached backwards to pull his hand to her waist. She spoke quietly through the darkness. “Even though you burn me.... I still love you. I still need you.” That made him smile for a little bit. He still needed to fix what he did and if this would help her feel safe in his arms again then he’d do it. For her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “I love you, too.”

****

The next day, Touya and Shoto came home. They had spent the weekend with their grandparents to have a break from training and to visit their other brother and sister that Rei’s parents had custody of after her and Enji’s incident. Unfortunately Ivy didn’t get to officially greet them since she had been taking a nap on the couch. She got up early to make snacks for their return and fell asleep waiting. “Mama Ivy? Are you awake?” Her eyes slowly opened and she saw red hair. She jumped and sat up quickly before she realized it was just Shoto. “Oh! Hi! Hi Shoto! Hi....” She yawned and stretched, finally noticing Touya, too. “Hi Touya! How was your guy’s weekend? Did you have fun?” Shoto smiled and bounced excitedly, speaking quickly. “It was sooo fun! We missed you though. Well I don’t know if Touya did but I know I did and I thought about you a lot because I missed you so much-” Ivy hugged him. Tight. “I missed you, too, Sho. Very much.”

There was something about it that seemed off and Touya noticed. He noticed the way she jumped when she first saw Shoto. The bandage on her leg. When he turned to look at Enji, he immediately looked away. He knew something was up. He took a seat next to Ivy and put an arm around her before she put an arm around him too to hug both of the boys. He could feel her trembling. There was a tear on her cheek when she pulled away. “Mom? Why are you crying? Are you okay?” Shoto wiped her face with a frown. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you so much.” She calmed herself and gave him a smile. Now it was Touya’s turn to ask questions. “What’s that on your leg? How did you get hurt?” She froze before answering, the smile left and returned like a boomerang. She looked from the wound to Touya. “Well, yesterday it was raining here and I really like the rain so I tried to run outside to play and I slipped on the wet grass and fell. I was so excited I got a little clumsy. Fortunately, your dad was able to help me and fixed me right up!”

Sweet little Shoto giggled and hugged her again. “It’s okay, Mama Ivy. It happens to me sometimes, too! Until you feel better, I’ll be the best helper ever! You can count on me!” He had a giant, innocent grin on his face. Such a good kid. Touya sighed. He didn’t know exactly what happened. But he knew his father was apart of the problem. If only he’d been here to help her. He knows how he gets. Maybe he could’ve stopped him. This wasn’t his place though so he stopped thinking about it for now. He just wanted to sit here, at home, and listen to his baby brother not shut up about their visit to their grandparent’s house.

Enji retreated back to his office to work. But as soon as he turned on the computer he turned it off again. He hadn’t seen his boys in two days. The words ‘You need to take time out of being a hero and be a father’ echoed in his mind. He left his office and went back to the living room and took a seat next to Ivy. “Sorry I had to check something. Tell me about your weekend, I wanna hear, too.” Ivy looked at him. He smiled while he listened to Shoto repeat what he had just told her. This is what she wanted for him. This is what he needed. All it took was taking a break to let off some steam.

#bnha au #endeavor #enji todoroki #bnha #mha #enji x black!reader #enji x reader #endeavor x black!reader #endeavor x reader #enji #touya #dabi #shoto

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