#i wanted to fill it with some words by the queen but i um | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aemondapologistfrfr · 2 months ago

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Pray That I Don't Catch You

benji blackwood x bracken!fem!reader

Summary: The crown intervenes and decides that a marriage between Lord Brackens daughter and Lord Blackwood’s son will solve the tensions between the two houses. You both were very open about your dislike for each other until something changed.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, wine, arranged marriage, chasing(like literal chasing), oral(f), fingering, loss of virginity, p in v, breeding kink

Authors Note: idc that this is overdone i haven’t done it yet 🧍🏼‍♀️ me vs avoiding eye contact w my ongoing series so i could write this in one sitting anyways this was supposed to be chill and then turned into this

Word Count: 5.9k

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Stone Hedge has been in absolute chaos over the past fortnight preparing for the crown to visit. My mother is having gowns made hastily for us and I’m not bothered by that in the slightest. I’ve been begging for new gowns for ages so this is the perfect time. I spend my days with the seamstresses and help embroider some details.

My father has been on edge and I’ve done my best to avoid him. I hear his voice trailing throughout the halls from his council chambers. The servants are quick to drop him off wine and quickly run out of his presence. My mother tries to soothe him but even her soft nature won’t crack his hard demeanor.

“What did I tell you boy?” my fathers voice jolts me from my nap. I slowly peek my head out my chamber doors and see him hauling my brother down the hall. I gasp as I take in his bruised and bloodied face. My fathers eyes narrow on me and pluck me from my chambers and leads me to the council chambers with him. My mother is already waiting inside looking less than pleased.

“I’ve told you both time and time again that the crown is to visit in a couple days. We’ve been preparing for almost a moon now.” my fathers face gets redder the louder his voice gets.

“I haven’t done anything.” I scrunch my brows and look around at them.

“You could have kept your brother inside with you.” my mother gives me a pointed look.

“Since when am I his keeper?” I groan, pushing myself back into the chair. “What even happened to him?” I look at my brother's face with a grimace.

“Some Blackwood moving the boundary stones. Am I to just let them on our land?” my brother turns his attention to our father.

“The crown is coming to deal with this generational feud. You’ll be lucky if they don’t send you to the Wall. Gods, my heir will be taken from me. Over some fucking grass.” my father downs his cup of wine and starts to fill it anew. I look at my mother and my worried expression is mirrored on her face. We have no way out of this chamber until my father dismisses us no matter that we have nothing to offer.

“It’s never been an issue before..” my brother scoffs.

“The crown hasn’t come here in decades. The Queen wishes this fighting to end. Gods, know how she plans to do that.” my mother shakes her head.

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I crane my neck towards the sky as the Queen circles Stone Hedge on her dragon. Her dragon gives out a loud cry before it descends and lands outside our gates. Her traveling company has arrived just a day before and our Keep has been bustling with activity. Her handmaidens cluster around the gate as her feet touch the ground. She waves them all off and my family all bows deeply.

“Your Grace.” my fathers rough voice travels across to her.

“Rise.” her voice soft yet firm. “Where might Lord Blackwood be? I had hoped we could all sit down and begin the meeting with haste.” she hums and looks around.

“Oh-um, My Queen, I had assumed you wanted to rest after your travels.” my father stutters out.

“Let’s assume nothing else on this visit.” she hums. “I’ll send someone to retrieve him.” she walks past us with her company a step behind her.

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When Lord Blackwood arrived my brother went rigid upon seeing his son in tow. I can tell this is who he got into a fight with by the black eye that has yet to begin to fade. I fill the cups around the council chamber and allow my eyes to roam over all of the unfamiliar faces. I catch the Blackwood boy staring at me and he gives me a sneering smile before turning his attention back to the Queen.

“Then that matter is settled.” she looks at me and I try to keep my face neutral. I should’ve been paying attention. I turn to my mother and she has a worried expression on her face. “Your daughter and your son's union should be more than enough to stitch the Riverlands back together.” the Queen looks from my father to Lord Blackwood.

The realization starts to sink in at what her words mean. My mother is still staring at me and I feel Lord Blackwood's son's eyes on me once more. My brother mumbles something next to me but I ignore it and slip out of the council chambers. I sprint down the stairs and make my way to the courtyard. The fresh air hits my face and I keep running through the gates. Once I make it past the tree line I finally stop and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

“What have I done to be at the end of your cruel joke?” I whisper up at the Gods.

“Enough with the dramatics.” I turn and see the Blackwood boy leaning against a tree. “They sent me to come retrieve you. I’m sure in hopes that you would think I was rescuing you in some galant way.” he drawls looking me over, bored.

“I won’t go back with you.” I raise my chin at him.

“You will. I won’t be spending the evening out here.” he starts to walk towards me. I take one glance at his outstretched arm and suck in a breath before turning and sprinting deeper into the forest. Green and brown blur past me as I delve us deeper into the woods. I hear his heavy feet a couple feet behind me and my adrenaline pushes me further. I feel his fingers wrap around my arm and I go to pull away and send us both flying to the ground. “Gods woman.” he grits out through his teeth as we fumble around in the dirt and leaves.

“Let go of me.” I try to pull my wrists out of his grasp but he slams them down to the earth.

“If I do, you'll run and we’ll end up in the same place in a couple minutes.” his breath fans across me as our chests push into each other as we try to slow our breathing.

“I don’t want to marry you.” I shake my head.

“Nor I you.” he looks me over with annoyance. “But I’m afraid the Queen insists.”

“I don’t care. I won’t.” his nostrils flare at my words.

“Stubborn and hardheaded like every other Bracken.” he mumbles and I bring my knee up hard between his legs and the air is knocked out of his lungs. I scramble to my feet and break into a run. “Pray to your Gods I don’t catch you.” he screams into the trees and I hear twigs snapping behind me.

My lungs feel like they’re on fire and I risk taking a sharp turn and slowing my pace to quiet my noises and breathing. I rest against a tree and lean my head back trying to focus on catching my breath. I look up at the orange and pink sky knowing I need to get out of this forest before moonrise. I look around at my surroundings and slowly push myself off of the tree. I take one step forward and squeak and he presses me against the bark.

“Get-“ one of his hands press against my mouth.

“I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you.” he stares at me. “Do you understand?” he raises an eyebrow. I nod my head having no other choice. I keep looking at him as he slowly removes his hand. He grips his other hand around my wrist and begins to pull us back in the direction of Stone Hedge. I try to pull my hand away but he just tightens his fingers in response. I nibble on my lip wanting to say something but unsure of what he’ll do.

“You’re going to leave bruises.” my voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t care.” he tugs me to start walking faster.

“At least slow down.” I huff yanking his arm back. He turns to me with dark eyes and I match his stare.

“Do you wish to walk through the forest in the dark?” he looks down at me.

“No.” I purse my lips. “I don’t want you to drag me through this forest anymore either. You should act like a gentleman if I’m now your betrothed.” I look up at him expectantly. He shakes his head at me and his grasp tightens around my wrist once more and he starts to pull us through the forest. As we approach the tree line the sun sets and my mother and father breathe out a sigh of relief as we come into view. I barely noticed him slip his fingers between mine to make our journey seem more innocent than it was.

“Thank the Gods.” my father sighs pulling me into his tight embrace. “I was about ready to go in there myself.” he pulls back and looks me over and starts to pull some leaves out of my hair. He looks over at the Blackwood boy and nods his head. “Thank you, Benjicot.” I look at him just now realizing I never got his name.

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I look myself over in the mirror and continue to smooth out my skirt. I watch as my handmaidens finish with my hair and step back to admire their work. My mother comes in and places a necklace around me. I smile at her in the mirror before I turn to her. I offer what I hope is a comforting smile and she gives me a reassuring nod.

“It’s just lunch in the gardens.” the corners of her mouth turn upward. “It can’t be so bad.” she raises my chin. This isn’t the first lunch we’ve had. He has been coming here everyday and it’s clear it’s not on his own terms. Our conversations are short and we mostly fight or sit in silence unless there are others around.

“I suppose you’re right.” I sigh, nodding my head. I brush past her and make my way down the stairs. I allow a smile to spread across my features as I see him waiting for me. He offers me his arm and I accept watching my mother smile at us from the corner of my eye. “So lovely to see you, Benjicot.” I hum resting my head on his shoulder.

“A bit much.” he chuckles lowly and I pinch his arm rather hard in return. “How is my betrothed today?” he brings his hand up to my cheek in the pretense to caress it but pinches me.

“Ow.” I push him.

“Easy.” he chuckles, pulling me back against him.

“My day has gotten so much brighter now that I’m with you.” my voice sickeningly sweet. People around us stop and smile watching us pretend to be smitten. They never catch the underlying moments like when he pushes my chair in too far and steals the breath from me. Or when we embrace and my hands find the back of his neck I pull so hard on his hair I’m surprised I haven’t taken any out yet. As he takes his seat across from me, servants are upon us filling our cups and plates.

“Are you counting down the days until we wed? It’s just under a fortnight now.” he smirks while sipping his wine.

“I can’t wait, Benjicot.” his nostrils flare at his full name.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Benji?” his voice has a bite only I can hear.

“You should’ve never told me you dislike it.” I chuckle, raising my cup to him.

“I dislike you.” a servant walks up and he adds. “Being away from me. I can’t wait until we’re wed and I never have to spend another moment without you.” he reaches across the table for my hand. I offer it to him and watch the servant swoon looking at us.

“Oh Benjicot.” I coo and lean in closer to him and his hand constricts around mine. The second the servant walks away I rip my hand out of his and massage my fingers. “Must you always manhandle me like some beast.” I hiss across to him.

“You are a beast that requires manhandling.” he glares at me and I know the look is mirrored on my face. We eat our meal in silence and once we finish our table is cleared. We stare at each other in silence and he exhales loudly before rising and offering me his hand.

“This is a surprise.” I look at his hand with a raised brow. “I was only promised lunch.” I hum accepting his hand and standing.

“We might as well walk through the gardens. We’re already here.” he pulls me against him and tightens his fingers around mine.

“Was this your own idea, Benjicot?” I can barely stifle my giggle. “Just can’t get enough of your betrothed?” I hum pressing myself against him and he stops us.

“Enough.” he grabs my chin making me look up at him. “You will thank me for taking you on a walk and you will hold my hand and smile.” I squint my eyes at him. “I will have no more of this attitude.” I bite my lip trying to hide my smirk. His fingers tighten around my chin and I continue to blink up at him as he looks at me expectantly. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes and I sigh rolling my eyes.

“Thank you for taking me on a walk through the gardens. It’s unexpected and appreciated.” I grab his hand from my chin and interlock our fingers. He searches my eyes one last time before we continue our walk through the gardens. The walk is silent but it feels different from what we’ve been doing. His hand isn’t like a vice and we aren’t overly acting even when we run into others. When he returns me to the main doors of the keep and pulls me into his embrace my fingers don’t pull against his hair instead they slowly thread through it.

“I will see you in the morning.” his knuckles brush against my cheek and I scrunch my brows at the action as he walks away leaving me on the steps.

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There is only five days until I’m to marry Benjicot and I curse myself for having butterflies at the thought. I wish we could go back to loathing each other. The constant teasing has slowly progressed into something more. We’ve been spending more time together since our walk in the garden last week and I try to hide how happy it makes me. My skirts swish behind me as I make my way down the steps and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face when I see him waiting for me.

“You look radiant today.” my heart skips at his words. I haven’t gotten used to the genuine compliments from him and they steal my breath every time.

“Thank you.” I mumble against him as he pulls me into his arms. “What do you have planned for us today?” I look up at him as I pull back. He doesn’t respond, only smiles at me as he walks us out of the main doors. We walk through the gates and I look at him curiously. He leads us into the clearing before the tree line and I smile as the tall grass brushes against my fingertips.

“I’m surprised you haven’t sprinted away yet.” his tone playful.

“Shall I?” I look at him with a glint in my eye. “Do you want to chase after me again, Benjicot?” my heart starts to beat faster in anticipation.

“I thought you were starting to like me.” he chuckles, pulling me closer. I slip my hand out of his and dash towards the tree line. He engulfs me a second later and spins me against his chest. “No no no,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around me tighter. “We’re not doing that again.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp and groan with little luck. One of his hands makes its way to the back of my head and tilts it up to him.

“You were much faster this time.” I try to suppress my smirk.

“Or was I just enjoying hunting down my betrothed the first time?” his fingers tighten in my hair and my breath catches.

“I escaped you last time.” he chuckles.

“You didn’t play fair last time.” he slowly dips his head down.

“You’re not playing fair now.” I try to tilt my chin up but his fingers pull harder.

“You’re the one who ran.” he lips hover over mine.

“And you’re a tease.” I huff willing him to press his lips against mine. He chuckles and pulls back watching my heaving chest. I push him back with a scrunched brow and make a run for it again.

“I’ll give you a head start.” he calls after me and I throw him a smile over my shoulder.

I hop over wayward branches and ignore the twigs that are digging into my skirts. I risk a glance behind me and smile when I don’t see him. I keep moving forward and scream as he pops out in front of me. I jump to the right and sprint past him as he wildly laughs. I hear him behind me and I push myself to run even faster. His fingers catch onto the fabric of my dress and he pulls me back against him. I land against his chest with a thud and his hand rests against my chest above my heart. It slides up around my throat as his fingers press against my pulse.

“You worked up from running or you like being chased?” he pants against my neck. His fingers caress across the front of my throat as I lean back into him. “Tell me.” he licks up the side of my neck and I writhe in his arms.

“Benjicot,” I sigh, holding onto his arms. His hand slides up to my chin and turns my head to the side.

“You’re insufferable when you call me that.” he bites down on my neck and I gasp digging my nails into his skin. “You never answered my question.” he presses a kiss against the red mark.

“What was it?” my voice broken while his arms wrap around my front holding me against him.

“Do you like when I chase you?” a shiver runs down my spine and I nod my head. “I knew it.” he chuckles. He kisses my neck once more and begins to remove his hands from my body. “Run.” my adrenaline spikes as he scoots me forward and my feet start to carry me through the forest once more.

I run in the opposite direction and I hear him tearing through the leaves behind me. My feet pound into the dirt as I break through the tree line and into the open field. Some grass tangles around my ankle and I tumble to the ground in a fit of giggles. Just as I’m about to call out to him he bursts through the grass and trips over my foot sending him to the ground. I laugh harder and crawl over to him to make sure he’s okay. He’s rubbing his head as I kneel at his side and brush his hair back between giggles.

“Poor Benjicot.” I coo wiping the dirt from his cheek. “Are you okay?” he glares up at me before tackling me backwards.

“Must you always send me to the dirt when we’re out in the forest?” he searches my eyes as I smile up at him.

“You chase after me so intensely. I didn’t make you charge through the clearing like a bull.” I purse my lips.

“Well I don’t want to lose you.” he scrunches his brows and his words come out softer than both of us anticipate.

“Careful you sound like you care.” my tone taunting.

“Shut up.” I catch his eyes dart to my lips.

“Are you going to make me?” I tilt my head watching him. He presses his lips against mine a second later. My fingers tangle in his hair holding him against me and he grabs them with his own and pins them to the ground. I arch my body up into his wanting more than our lips to be touching and he chuckles against my mouth. “More.” I whine against his lips.

“You’ll have whatever I decide you deserve.” he kisses down my jaw and I mewl beneath him. “You’re absolutely fucking indecent.” he sucks harshly against my neck. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull his weight against me. “Gods,” he pants against my skin. “No more. We’re not wed yet.” he pulls back and stares at my heaving chest.

“Ever the gentleman.” I roll my eyes. “Then help me up.” I hold my hand out and he pulls me up. As we walk through the field he plucks flowers from the grass and hands them to me silently. I hold them together and by the time we make it back through the front gates I have a small bouquet in my hands.

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“Are you going to finally admit to me that you’re absolutely smitten?” my mother preens from behind me as she finishes placing the last pin in my hair.

“Gods mother,” I groan and I see my handmaiden giggling in the mirror next to me. “You’ll regret teasing me when I move back with him to Raventree Hall.” I purse my lip.

“The couple hour journey?” she raises her brow to me.

I roll my eyes at her and she presses a kiss to the top of my head. The next two hours go by in a blur as I’m tied into my gown and last minute touches are being applied. I’m paraded down to the great hall and wait behind the closed doors in anticipation. I fiddle with my nails and my heart races as I hear the soft song of the string instruments. The doors groan open and everyone rises and turns to watch me walk up to the dais.

I spot my mother and see her crying next to my father and brother. I smile at all of the familiar faces and finally allow myself to look forward. My eyes travel up his form until they lock with his. He looks very well groomed and his cheeks have a faint flush to it. He holds his hand out for me as I approach him and he helps guide me up the step to stand in front of him. I don’t even pay attention to what the septon is saying as Benji and I focus on each other. We repeat after the septon when prompted and when he announces us man and wife Benji pulls me against him and seals our lips. The hall explodes in cheers and we’re ushered to the empty floor to share our first dance.

“You look beautiful, my wife.” he hums, pressing his lips against my forehead.

“Thank you, Benjicot.” I look up at him with a smile.

“Must you still call me that?” he groans as we start to sway to the music.

“It’s your name, is it not?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “My husband pouts?” I throw my head back and laugh. He shushes me as he twirls me around the floor and laughs as he pulls me back against him. We let our bodies glide to the rhythm and after a couple minutes more duos join us in our dance. We slowly make our way back to our table and laugh and talk with our families on either side of us.

“I had something set up for us.” Benji whispers into my ear.

“What is it?” I tilt my head looking at him.

“Come.” he offers me his hand and helps me stand with a smile. Our parents smile after us as we slip out the doors. He leads us outside in the yard and he pulls me on the other side of the gates.

“It’s dark.” I squeeze his hand.

“We have the full moon. Our eyes will adjust.” he hums leading me into the tall grass. I see a small flickering in the distance and I press closer against him. My eyes begin to adjust and I see a tent and a fire being tended to by a guard. “Thank you.” he nods at the man and he disappears back through the grass to the gates.

“What are we doing out here?” I look around at the campsite.

“Enjoying the moon,” he places a kiss against my neck. “And the stars.” he places a kiss to the center of my throat. “Having the privacy and space we need.” he kisses the other side of my neck. “I don’t want this to get ruined.” his hands begin to untie my gown and it pools in the grass leaving me clad in my sheer slip and slippers. His gaze on my body sends shivers through me. He starts to pull me further into the grass and my eyebrows knit together.

“Where are we going?” my voice soft as I stay close to his side.

“Not far. We’ll be able to see the fire. You’re safe.” his thumb rubs against my hand. He stops us and when I turn the fire is only a dot in the distance. “Can you see?” he searches my eyes and I nod. He leans down and presses his lips against mine. His fingers dig into my waist as he pulls his lips away from me. He searches my eyes and I see the corner of his mouth twitch as he glances at the fire. I see the glint in his eye and I bite my lip.

“Come get me, Benji.” I smile before I bolt in the direction of the fire. I hear the grass swaying behind me and I push myself to run faster. My hair whips wildly behind me and I hear his heavy breathing quickly approaching.

“You know I'm just toying with you right?” I hear his voice come from my left and I jolt, my pace faltering. I turn in a circle looking to see where the grass moves but all I can see is the glow of the fire. “Why’d you stop?” I turn at his voice only to be greeted with grass. My head snaps in the opposite direction and I turn on my heel and race back to the fire. Benji scoops me up from my right and I squeal in his arms jerking wildly. He brings us back to the campsite and into the tent.

“You had a featherbed brought out here?” I chuckle as he kisses across my neck while laying us back.

“Why are you complaining about not being on the ground?” he starts to pull up my slip and I gasp as his fingers trace against my hips and up my sides. “Lift your arms up for me.” he hums and I slowly put them above my head. He pulls off the slip and dips down to kiss across my chest. He encases one of my nipples and I gasp as his teeth graze against it.

“Benji,” I whine, holding onto his shoulders. He kisses his way over to my other breast and sucks it into his mouth. I arch into his mouth and he smiles against my heated skin. “Take off your clothes.” I plead pulling against his jerkin.

“Shh,” he bites against my skin and I gasp. He kisses back up my chest and captures my lips. He grinds against me and whimpers spill from my lips. His fingers slide up my wet small clothes and my legs close around his hand. “Have you been touched before?” his fingers continue to tease me as they’re held between my legs.

“No.” I whine, shaking my head. He kisses down to my neck and my hands hold him closer.

“Have you touched yourself?” he starts to open my legs and I let out small sighs as he presses into my heat. He watches me as I nod my head. He raises his eyebrow as he trails his finger up and down.

“Once.” I breathe out, squeezing my eyes shut. My hips move on their own and I gasp.

“When?” he smirks against my neck.

“The last time you chased me.” I flush at the confession. “I didn’t- I was just so hot and so- yes,” I cry out as he dips his fingers below my small clothes. “Benji,” my voice cracks as he swirls around my bud.

“Yeah, does that feel good?” he looks down at me as I squirm. “Fuck you’re so wet.” he groans lets his fingers slide down and circle my core.

“I wanna feel you.” I whine pulling at his clothes. He sits back and watches me squirm on the bed as he slowly removes his clothes. I lift my hips as he pulls my small clothes down bearing me completely. “Touch me,” I plead, reaching out for him.

“So needy.” he chuckles, leaning back down to press his lips against me once more. He leaves a trail of kisses in his wake as he makes his way between my thighs. He places a single kiss between my legs and they shake around his head. He wraps his hands around my hips and pulls me closer and I stare down at him, nibbling on my lip. His lips encase my bud and my head falls back to the pillow.

“Yes Benji,” a moan tears through me. I shake above him as his tongue circles against me. When his tongue moves faster I tangle my fingers in his hair. He groans as I hold him closer to me. I feel one of his fingers circle my entrance and I whine as he pushes it in. He starts to slowly pull his finger while swirling around my bud and my breath starts to come out in pants. “Benji,” I gasp as he presses a second finger into me.

My hips rising off the bed and he starts to move his fingers faster. Whimpers cascade from my mouth when he curls his fingers. “Yes,” I cry, rolling my hips against his face. He chuckles as he moves my hips himself across his tongue and my stomach coils. I fall apart grinding against his face and he starts to kiss his way back up my quaking body. His hand tangles in my hair as he pulls me into a heated kiss. I moan into his mouth as his fingers circle my bud.

“My good little Bracken wife.” he kisses down my neck. I gasp beneath him as he pulls pleasure from me with his fingers. I shutter the quicker his fingers move and reach up to try and kiss him but he’s just out of reach. “Just begging for me. Gonna fill you with my Blackwood seed and watch you grow with my child.” he whispers against my lips as he slips his fingers back in me. My fingers dig into his back as my legs start to shake. I pulse around his fingers, whining his name as he kisses across my neck.

He slips his fingers out and starts to push his length into me. I look at him with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes in. We both pant once he settles inside and I begin to adjust slowly rocking against him. “Fuck, you’re killing me.” he groans and I clench around him.

“Benji,” I whine and he snaps his hips, stealing my breath.

“Relax for a second.” he grits out through his teeth digging his fingers into my waist. He slowly starts to move in a slow rhythm pulling small gasps from me. He grinds against me brushing against my bud and my eyes roll to the back of my head. He continues the movement and I feel my pleasure building quickly. He curses into my neck as I fall apart around him. “Gods you’re so sensitive.” he kisses across my chest. He starts to move his hips faster and he captures one of my nipples into his mouth.

“Please, yes,” I whine as his teeth tease the hardened bud. My legs lock around his waist and he groans against me before moving back up to bite and suck across my neck. “I’m gunna,” my voice cracks as pleasure slams through me and I cling against him.

“Fuck,” he groans almost collapsing on top of me. He rests his forehead against mine as he slowly starts to push into me. “Doing so good for me.” he pants and I mumble something inaudible. He starts to move his hips faster and my eyes screw shut as I focus on the feeling. “This what you like?” he chuckles, snapping his hips into mine.

“Yes, Benji,” I moan loudly, pressing my chest into his. I come undone as I feel him spill inside of me. He keeps moving his hips and I gasp feeling the warmth between my legs.

“Taking everything I give you.” he grunts, slowly rocking his hips into mine. “You like being so full of me?” I nod my head beneath him. He keeps rocking his hips into me until he hardens once more. I tremble below him as he presses himself into me again and again.

“Benji,” his name is the only thing that comes from my mouth as his fingers swipe against my bud. I pulse around him feeling our pleasure between us.

“Just begging for me to fill you up again.” he grunts and I feel him twitch inside of me and I come undone with a high pitched cry as he fills me once more. He pulls out and I whine at the sudden loss. “It’s just leaking out of you.” he chuckles, lifting my hips up. His fingers push our pleasure back into me and I grab his wrist.

“Benji, I can’t,” I shake my head digging my nails into his skin as he pushes his seed back into me.

“Just making sure it sticks.” he presses his lips to my thigh and removes his hands. “You did so good for me, my perfect wife.” he hums and I try to slow my panting as I look up at him. He lays us back on the bed and I cling against him listening to his heartbeat as I drift off to bed.

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masterlist 🔌

not soft and dreamy benji has me in a chokehold atm

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reccyls · 4 months ago

Text

Your Hand, My Lady - The Mature Butler Pledges Loyalty (Victor story)

My translation of Victor's butler event story

As a result of the Evil King's Game, my exclusive butler for the day is...

Victor: Oh dear, how could this be! Turns out there isn't a number 6 after all, so the order gets turned back onto the king!

...the person who started this round of the game in the first place, Victor.

Victor: But one must put their heart and soul into what they have agreed to do, so do allow me to be your butler.

Kate: S-sure. I'm looking forward to it.

(Victor as my butler... I wonder what that's going to be like?)

...

Kate: Mm....

Victor: Ah... Apologies, Lady Kate. Did I wake you?

Daylight streaming into my room pulled me from my sleep.

As I sat up, I noticed Victor drawing open the curtains.

Kate: It's fine...

(Oh, right. Victor's going to be acting as my butler for the entire day today.)

Victor: Heh. Are you still sleepy?

He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, mindful of how I was only barely awake. His voice was sweeter and gentler than usual.

Victor: You have no duties to attend to today, so if you wanted to sleep in, that would be no trouble. It is still half past 5 in the morning.

Kate: Half past five...? Then, I'll sleep a little more.

Victor: Of course. Sleep well, and I will let you know when breakfast is prepared.

...

As I curled up in bed once more, Victor silently approached and adjusted my blanket.

With a warm, ticklish feeling in my chest at Victor's care, I enjoyed my extra bit of sleep that morning.

After I had my fill of sleep, Victor woke me and I got dressed for the day. I also enjoyed a delicious breakfast.

Kate: Today's breakfast was really good!

As Victor spoke, he held a fork with a piece of apple up to me.

Victor: That is good to hear. I'll be sure to pass your words on to the chef.

Victor: ...My lady, how about some fresh fruits for dessert? Say 'aah'.

Hesitantly, I ate the offered fruit.

(Is he really going to feed me...?)

(Is this a normal thing for butlers to do?)

Kate: Mm, this is good too!

Kate: ...But, um, it is a bit embarrassing to do this.

The gap between me and Victor felt smaller than normal today.

It wasn't just regular kindness I could feel in the depths of his words and his expressions. He gave off the impression that he truly and deeply cherished me.

Victor: Please do forgive me.

Victor: I was enjoying myself too much and I have ended up making you uncomfortable.

Victor: Could you find it in your heart to forgive such an incompetent butler...?

Victor: Thank you very much. My lady is truly kind.

Kate: You don't have to apologize! You're not incompetent at all!

Kate: Please just keep doing what you think you should. If I'm actually uncomfortable with something, I'll let you know.

...

(I basically spent the entire day with Victor. It was a lot of fun.)

...The truth is, this past week, I'd seen some pretty horrible things during my missions with Crown.

I wanted to go on those missions so I could get used to that kind of tragedy, but all I ended up doing was make myself more and more depressed...

(...And that's when Victor proposed the Evil King's Game, and he ended up as my butler for the day.)

(Thanks to being able to spend time with him, I feel a lot better.)

But just like nothing sad lasts forever, neither do the good times.

Every hour that passed was one hour less that I would be able to spend with Victor.

Kate: Oh, thank you. If you don't mind?

Victor: Ah yes. Before dinner, may I braid your hair, my lady?

Victor: During breakfast and lunch, your hair seemed to bother you.

Victor: Of course not, leave it to me. I'll be sure to style your hair to be both practical and beautiful.

Victor sat me down in front of the mirror. Parting my hair with a comb, his large hands began to braid my hair.

Kate: ...You really know a lot about women's fashion, Victor.

Victor: I am your butler, but I do usually work as the queen's aide.

Throughout the day, Victor was careful to ensure that my clothes wouldn't end up dirty, and helped to suggest complementary accessories when I was unsure which ones to pick.

And the hands working through my hair were obviously very familiar with the act of braiding.

Kate: Oh, right...

Since he worked closely with the queen, it made sense that Victor would have picked up a deep understanding of women's fashion.

I was embarrassed that such a simple thought never even crossed my mind.

And not only that, but I became aware of a muddled feeling not unlike fog spreading through my chest.

(I had thought that I was the only one who would be able to see Victor as a butler.)

(I just didn't consider that I wasn't the only person to know this side of Victor.)

Victor has a lot of friends and acquaintances beyond just Crown, and I've never seen the face he wears in front of them.

For some reason, today, that obvious fact was like a dagger to my heart.

Kate: Victor, can I ask you for something?

(Is there a side of Victor that only I know...?)

(...Ah. That's right.)

Victor: Of course, my lady. Whatever you need, I am at your disposal.

Kate: This isn't something that happens every day, so I wanted to see you wearing a butler's uniform.

Victor: A butler's uniform?

Kate: Yeah... Have you ever worn one before?

Victor: No, never... And if this is what my one and only lady wishes of me, then I do not mind wearing one.

Kate: I'd love to see it!

And so, Victor went to go put on a butler's outfit.

(Maybe that was kind of heavy-handed of me, but I'm really excited.)

As I stood in the hallway waiting for Victor to be done changing, William approached.

William: Kate, have you seen Victor around?

Kate: He's in his room right now. Changing his clothes, to a butler's uniform.

Kate: Huh...?

William: A butler's uniform...? Ah right, he is our little robin's butler for the day, isn't he.

William: Sorry for this, but may I borrow your butler?

William: Her Majesty has summoned Victor for an emergency.

(Victor is my butler for the day... but the queen's orders take priority.)

Kate: Okay. It's Her Majesty's orders, after all.

William: ...You seem displeased.

I flushed, embarrassed at being seen through by William, who had let out a chuckle.

(Feeling lonely because Her Majesty has stolen Victor from me... I'm acting like such a spoiled brat.)

Just then, I spotted Victor, who had now finished changing, approaching.

But I knew that if I looked him in the eye, I would end up asking him not to leave, so I made sure to look away from him.

As I held back, William had walked over to meet Victor halfway, and the two of them began to speak.

It was most likely about the queen's summons.

Kate: ...Victor. Do you have a little time?

(Victor is going to leave.)

(But... if I could leave a little of myself in his heart...)

Propelled by a sense of possessiveness I didn't even realize I had, I called out to Victor.

Victor: ...William, can you go on ahead?

Seeing something in my expression or body language, Victor sent William off first.

Kate: Just a second, Victor.

I took one of my ribbons, and tied it around a lock of his hair.

As I told him my wish for him to keep me in his heart...

Kate: ...Today, you're not just the queen's aide, but also my butler.

Kate: Even if you're far away... please remember that.

Kate: ...This is my order, as your lady.

Victor took my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

Kate: ...

Kate: I... I-

Victor: ...Of course. Today, I am your loyal butler.

Victor: And so would you tell me the reason for the fog that clouds your thoughts?

I didn't know whether to reveal the truth of what I wanted, but every second I dawdled was another second spent obstructing the queen's orders.

Gathering my resolve, I opened my mouth to speak.

Kate: ...I'm jealous of the queen, of how much time she has with you.

Kate: If I could... I want to order you to stay here.

(Every moment I spend with Victor is precious.)

(I wish we could be together forever... I've ended up thinking that way.)

Victor: ......

But the reality of the situation is, I'm in no position to make that demand. The queen's orders are absolute.

And so because I cannot always be by his side in reality, I wanted to make a place for myself in his heart.

I turned away from my thoughts, back towards Victor, who had fallen silent.

Kate: I'm sorry. I don't want to burden you, so just--

Hurriedly, I tried to pull my hand back, but Victor raised it to his lips once more.

Kate: ....!?

(Th-that... that wasn't just a kiss, was that his tongue!?)

Seeing my flustered expression, Victor cracked a teasing smile.

Victor's words were full of uncharacteristic seductiveness, and my heart began to pound loudly.

Victor: Just because I am your butler does not mean that you can let your guard down, my lady.

Victor: The more you say such sweet things, the more I wish to mark your body with my kisses...

Kate: ...I remember.

Victor: Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you had dressed up as a maid?

Victor: I said to make sure you only give your heart and your body to a partner you are happy to choose.

Victor: And so... may I think of myself as that partner, my lady?

Kate: You...

Kate: .....Yes. You may.

If I gave the wrong answer or if I evaded, I got the feeling that Victor would slip far away from me.

Determined to tell him the full, complete truth, I opened my mouth.

Victor: I see.

Victor let go of my hand.

(Oh....)

Victor: I'm sorry, I must go now. Until next time.

With that, he quickly walked away.

But Victor did not return before the end of the day.

(I... That was way too forward, wasn't it...!)

(When he comes back, I need to apologize for making things weird...)

...

(I wanted to wait for Victor, but at this rate I'll end up staying up the whole night... I should go to sleep now.)

Kate: Who's there...?

With that thought, I extinguished the lamp and got into bed.

Remembering all of Victor's smiles from the past day, I began to slip into slumber. And just then--

My bedroom door quietly swung open, and a scent that brought to mind a quiet deep night approached.

When I opened my eyes, there was a figure kneeling over me in bed.

Victor: ...It's me. Victor.

Kate: Oh, you're back from the palace...? It's late... you worked hard today...

I was on the cusp of nodding off, barely able to keep my eyes open as I welcomed Victor back.

Kate: And... why are you in my room?

Victor: ...Don't you know?

Kate: Is it about work...?

Victor: Hmm... Something a bit more personal than work.

Kate: Personal? Is there some kind of night banquet that you want to invite me to?

Victor: That sounds lovely, but no. The truth is...

Victor brought his lips to my ear.

Victor: ...I've come to steal your heart.

(Steal my heart?)

Kate: Hehe... There's no point.

Victor: Why not?

Kate: Because you already stole it a long time ago...

Kate: Why do you want my heart anyway, Victor?

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Victor after he left for the palace.

If that didn't mean that he had already stolen my heart, then what did?

(I'm pretty sure his eyes are more beautiful than my heart...)

Victor: Why, you ask?

Victor: Because it's so beautiful, I couldn't help but want it.

Victor: ...

His face was hovering above mine. In the darkness of the room, his eyes seemed to glimmer with light.

As I kept staring, those gorgeous eyes drew closer and closer... His long, beautiful hair fell across my face.

Kate: Haha, that tickles...

I felt the touch of something delicate across my neck, my shoulders.

When I realized that it was Victor's lips pressing across my skin, I felt no desire to push him away.

It made me think of all the times that Roger's corgi, Ale, would play with me. I giggled.

Victor: That's all? It just tickles?

(Huh...? Victor's voice sounds a little unhappy about something?)

As I was wondering what it could be about, Victor's lips moved from my shoulder to my ear.

Kate: ...Ah...

The heat of his tongue traced the shell of my ear. I trembled at the unfamiliar sensation.

Victor: Kate.

He whispered my name into my ear like he was trying to express a secret love that should never be.

With that strange joy held in my heart, my eyes slid shut, and I finally drifted off.

(He's looking only at me...)

(I don't know why, but that makes me really, really happy......)

...

William: ...I saw you paying a visit to Kate's room last night.

After finishing a discussion about work, William wasted no time in starting to gossip.

Victor: Are you accusing me of something?

William: Heh. Does it look that way?

Victor: No. You look like you're just having a laugh.

William: Not quite. I'm not poking fun, I am quite happy.

William: After all, were you not doing what your heart wanted?

William: And?

Victor: I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no.

Victor: I only went to her room to warn her not to give her heart away so freely. And...

Victor: Kate doesn't remember it at all. If she does, she probably thinks it was just a dream.

William: What a shame.

At William's words, a vague smile drifted to Victor's lips.

William: So why did you rig that game in the first place?

William: Surely you must have known there was no number 6 stick in the first place.

William: That's it? No other reason?

Victor: Nothing gets past you, Will.

Victor: Lately, Kate wasn't coping well with the missions she had joined. I just wanted to be able to do something for her.

----

Victor: ....No.

Victor: Even if I did have feelings for her... there is nothing I can offer her.

Victor: Because "Victor" belongs to "Victoria".

Notes: Victor's last sentence is written as "Because I belong to Her Majesty", but what he says out loud is what I have written down.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

Text

Stuck With You*

Summary: You and Harry have been assigned to a case halfway across the country. And getting stuck for over twelve hours in a car with him is nothing short of excruciating.

But having to share a bed with him?

A fate worse than death.

(aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope!)

Word Count: 7.7k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!*

BAM!

The violent sound of the car door being slammed is what jolts you from your nap, weary eyes fluttering quickly as you sit up in the rather uncomfortable chair.

You aren't sure how long you've been asleep but from the lack of light outside, you guess quite a while.

So, in an effort to assess your location, you lean forward to peer through the windshield at the bright, neon sign shining just above you.

Roadside Motel and Inn.

Slowly, the pieces begin to come together as you yawn and roll your head back to relieve some of the tension in your neck.

You and Harry have been on the road for exactly twelve hours.

Twelve long, excruciating hours filled with bad rock music, limited snack breaks, and arguments over which part of the map to follow.

Harry doesn’t obey directions very well, something that became abundantly clear when he threw the map out of the window somewhere back in Ohio.

You have to smirk to yourself at the memory of his little tantrum before you realize...he's not in the car with you.

Curious as to where he went, you look back out the window just in time to see him slipping into the lobby of the motel, that familiar, sour scowl still set firmly on his face.

He must be going to book a room for the night, and you feel rather relieved to be calling it quits for the day.

Although, this motel doesn't look all that...safe. Or sanitary. In fact, it kind of looks like the motel in a horror movie where they'd find a dead body.

But, you aren't in a position to complain, so you lean back in your seat and wait for Harry to return with a room key.

However, after five minutes has passed and Harry has yet to return, you realize that something must have gone wrong.

And knowing Harry…it's a pretty safe bet.

So, you retie your shoes, zip up your jacket, and slip out of the car.

You can hear the aggravated arguing before you’ve even reached the lobby door. And you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes when the sound of Harry’s seething retort echoes into the parking lot.

“You aren’t fucking hearing me,” Harry is growling as he leans across the counter. “Two rooms. That’s all. I don’t fucking care about bed sizes or furnishings. I don’t fucking care if the TV is on the goddamn ceiling. Just give me the fucking keys.”

The poor man behind the counter looks absolutely exhausted with him (a feeling you know well) as he waves his hands in front of his computer. “I don’t have two rooms available, sir. I only have the one. One room. One queen-sized bed. One TV on the floor.”

Harry slams his palm against the desk with malice as you rush forward to intervene.

“Hi. I am…so sorry about my friend,” you begin hesitantly, pinching Harry’s hip in warning. “But, um…are you sure you don’t have any other rooms with two beds? No matter the size? We aren’t picky, really, we just…we’ve had a long day. And we’d really appreciate anything you can give us.”

The man’s eyes soften while Harry scoffs.

“Sorry, Miss,” the desk attendant sighs. “Just one room with one bed.”

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Harry begins again, tossing a vengeful glare across the counter. “There’s no way every other room is booked up but that one. What do you want, huh? You want money? Is that what it’s gonna take? Fine. How much fucking money is it gonna take for you to give us a key to a room with two beds?”

With a sigh, the worker says, “Sir…there are no more rooms. I don’t know what else to tell you—”

“You fucking prick. You think you can just con us out of another room because it’s the last minute—”

“Sir. No room in the inn. I don’t know what else to say—”

“Oh, you won’t say fucking much with my fist down your throat—”

“Okay, all right, let’s calm down,” you interject, wrapping your hands around Harry’s upper arm to tug him away from the desk. “We’ll take any room you have. Please.”

The charged silence seems to span an eternity as the desk attendant goes to retrieve a key.

And as he does, Harry rips his arm from your grasp while viciously whispering, “I had it covered.”

You snort. After all, you both know that’s not true.

Once you’re officially checked in, Harry storms for the exit, nearly breaking the glass in the lobby door as he slams it open and shut.

You follow a few feet behind, desperate to put some distance between you and his unjust wrath.

But, even still, you don’t miss his aggravated grumbling as he stomps back to the car, griping and cursing about, “Shitty fucking motels,” and “sleezy assholes with a stick up their arse.”

You suppose it would almost be funny if you weren’t dreading having to spend a night with him. In fact, you’re almost tempted to offer to sleep in the car but…well, you hate those fucking seats.

Harry is already unpacking your things by the time you reach him, tossing items left and right as he attempts to retrieve what you’ll need for the night.

He finds your duffle, yanking it from the backseat before nearly hauling it at you as you catch it and go stumbling back.

Then, he pulls his own backpack free before slamming yet another door shut.

With that, he leads you to your room, booted feet stomping across the concrete as you trail behind.

It takes him about five minutes to figure out how to even get inside, large fingers fumbling with the keys as he growls and nearly shoves his fist through the door.

Once you’re inside, he flips on the light, and you both take a moment to assess its condition.

The queen-sized bed is more like a full. The wallpaper is faded and peeling. The smell is…unplaceable. The carpet is stained and dingy. The TV (which is not on the ceiling) is at least forty years old. And the bathroom has no door.

And seriously, what is that smell?

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Harry huffs under his breath, backpack dropping to the floor. “No. Absolutely fucking not. Not happening.”

“Look, we don’t really have a choice, do we?” you argue as you move for the bed to study its condition. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and the next hotel isn’t for miles.”

“So?” he sneers, moving his glare to you. “S’better than this.”

“This is fine,” you retort, but wince as you say it. “Yeah, it’s not…great. But we’re only here to sleep and then we’re back on the road.”

“No,” he decides, arms crossing as he shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Not fucking happening, I’ll sleep in the parking lot.”

“Okay, great. Buh-bye, then,” you call, waving your hand through the air as if to dismiss him.

His eyes narrow. “He lied, by the way.”

Turning around, you gingerly lower yourself onto the mattress, expression scrunched as you make contact.

Ew.

“Uh…who?” you ask, rather distracted by the somewhat moist duvet beneath your ass.

Seriously, why the fuck is it wet?

“The owner,” Harry snaps, head jerking toward the door. “When he went to get the key, there was another fucking key right next to it. For the master suite.”

“…okay?”

He seems rather unimpressed with your answer. “Seriously?”

“What?” you huff as you stand back up. “Maybe it’s his room.”

“It’s not,” he decides haughtily. “No, he doesn’t fucking sleep here. ’Cause even he knows this place is a fucking dump. All right, satan’s asshole is cleaner than this room.”

Your nose crinkles. “Ew.”

“Exactly. So, get your fucking stuff and let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To the master suite, are you not fucking listening?”

“Harry,” you nearly scoff. “We don’t have a key. Okay, and even if we did, that’s…you know, illegal…I think.”

“God, you are such a fucking pussy,” he hisses, already spinning around to return to the door. “Fine. Fucking stay here. I don’t care. Sleep with the cockroaches while they make babies in your ear.”

You gasp as he disappears into the parking lot, the rather unsettling image in your head making your muscles recoil.

Ew, ew, ew.

You don’t know where he’s gone. Perhaps to argue with the owner again or perhaps to sneak into the other room.

But you don’t worry about him. Instead, you worry about what he said. About bugs, and babies, and them crawling into your ear, and mold, and bedbugs, and termites, and—

You fling yourself toward the door, duffle bag in tow as you slip from the room, nearly running into Harry on your way out.

He’s already returned, a key now spinning around his pointer finger as he nods at you. “Changed your mind, I take it?”

You exhale a deep breath. “Did you at least pay for the room?”

“What do you think?” he snorts. “Fucking waited till he went to the bathroom and snatched it.”

“Harry, he’s gonna notice the key is missing.”

“No he’s not. I put the old key in its place.”

You lean back. “Oh. That’s…smart.”

“Yeah. Thanks for sounding so fucking surprised,” he grumbles before brushing past you toward the stairs.

“Come on, that’s not what I—” You begin but stop when you realize arguing with him is rather futile.

Instead, you follow after him toward the second floor of building as he leads you toward the end, where only one room lies.

He manages to get this door open a little quicker and once it swings open, your eyes widen.

It’s not the Hilton, but it’s a hell of an upgrade. The room is significantly larger, it doesn’t smell like ass, and the bed is huge. At least a king, you imagine, if not bigger. With what looks to be fresh, clean sheets and even a nice throw blanket.

Harry grumbles something about, “Now that’s more fucking like it,” as you both continue into the massive space to look around.

There’s a mini bar, two TVs, and a nice vanity in the corner. The wallpaper isn’t stained, the carpet is soft, and this bathroom has a door.

“Shit,” you breathe as you practically levitate toward the mattress. “Okay…I hate to say it, but…you were right. This is…so much better.”

“I know,” he deadpans, tossing his backpack toward the floor before moving for the couch placed just across from the bed. “Okay, I’m going to sleep. We’re leaving at eight. Try not to fucking bother me until then, yeah?”

With that, he flops down onto the sofa, eyes falling shut as he settles back into the cushions.

A little surprised, you stare at him, curious as to why he’s chosen to sleep on the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the room. In fact, the floor would likely be more relaxing.

However, his expression remains placid, most likely aware of your presence but refusing to acknowledge it. “Go away now,” he mumbles without ever glancing up. “Stop fucking hovering and go the fuck to sleep.”

And you’d likely argue or remind him again of how unpleasant he tends to be but choose instead to obey as you head for the bathroom. After all, you are tired, and tomorrow you have yet another long day of traveling ahead.

With him. And his outrageously hostile temperament.

Once you’ve changed into some pajamas, you exit the tiny bathroom and scurry to the bed. It’s still winter outside, and even though this is the master suite, they apparently haven’t mastered heat.

The covers are thin, hardly adding even one degree of warmth. You tug the throw blanket further up and curl yourself into a ball, hoping to find some relief from the shivering of your teeth but to no avail.

You have no idea how Harry isn’t freezing his ass off but can’t exactly focus on him as you begin to lose feelings in your toes. And now, the large bed seems to be working against you since all it does is provide you with more space to be cold in. And even if you wanted to readjust, you’d lose the spot of warmth you’ve created, forcing you to get stuck with the cold sheets once again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry suddenly growls, and you vaguely see the outline of his body as he straightens up from the couch.

Curious, you sit up as he stalks over to you, his large hand coming out to snatch onto the blankets and rip them back.

“Shit,” you breathe, recoiling away from the frigid air. “The fuck are you doing—”

“You won’t stop fucking shaking and it’s fucking annoying,” he snaps as he climbs onto the mattress beside you. “Move.”

A tad stunned, you blink at him. “I—seriously, what are you doing—”

“I’m trying to get some goddamn sleep,” he huffs, as if it were obvious. “But I can’t with your fucking teeth making so much goddamn noise. So, I’m gonna fucking hold you until you stop shivering.”

“Like hell you are,” you snort, already wiggling away from him. “The whole fucking point of us finding another room was so that we didn’t have to share a bed. Remember?”

“Yeah, well, that was before your teeth started doing the tango,” he retorts. “Now shut the fuck up and cuddle me.”

“I—Harry. I’m not going to cuddle you, that’s gross—”

“Oh, grow up. God, you are so fucking dramatic. We’re adults—”

“Yeah, but we’re not in fucking Twilight. Okay, Jacob? I don’t need your doggy heat to warm me up—”

“My doggy heat? The fuck does that even mean? I wasn’t gonna hold you doggy style—”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re not gonna hold me at all—”

“For fuck’s sake,” he seethes for a second time before his arm is extending across the space between your bodies to latch onto your hip and drag you closer.

You don’t have the time to protest before your face is being squished into his chest as he pulls the blankets back up.

Your brain is the next thing to freeze as you take a moment to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

And why you aren’t fighting it.

Because much to your dismay…he’s right. Again. Instantly, this is significantly better, and you can already feel the movement return to your toes as you take a deep breath.

And suddenly, you realize that he’s…everywhere. Against you, around you, inside you. Well, his smell is, anyway. The subtle scent of his cologne making a home in your lungs.

And it’s…nice. A masculine vanilla, of sorts. Comforting.

…ew.

And while your first instinct is to reach up and shove him away…you don’t. Instead, your hands come to rest on his chest as you feel each curve and dip of his strong body. Maybe you’re too cold or too tired, but whatever the case, you don’t push.

“You can’t do this,” you choose to mumble, despite the fact that you do nothing to stop it.

He simply snorts under his breath. “Already am.”

You shift but don’t pull yourself out of his arms. “I can’t breathe.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Your eyes narrow, even though he can’t see you.

For a moment, the dark room falls quiet. The sound of his breathing above you is soft and you feel his body rise and fall with each one. It nearly lulls you to sleep as the heat begins to surround you, much like his arms have.

“Why are you so mean to me?” you hear yourself whisper, momentarily stunned by the words that came from your own throat without permission.

He seems to tense. “I’m not mean to you. That’s just…you know, our thing.”

“Our thing is you being mean to me?”

“I’m not mean,” he repeats sternly, arms constricting around your back. “Trust me, if I were fucking mean to you, you’d know it.”

“So…this is you being nice?”

You hear him huff. “Can you please just go the fuck to sleep?”

“Okay,” you murmur, with absolutely no plans to do so.

But you allow him to think that he’s won for about two minutes before you voice your next question.

“Why is being mean our thing?”

Another sigh. “I swear to fucking God—”

“You used to bring me cookies,” you remind him, the memory of when he first joined your sector years prior coming to mind. “Every morning. You’d bring me cookies from the bakery you stopped at on the way to work.”

Again, he goes quiet, muscles hard beneath your touch. “I don’t remember,” he replies after a minute, the cadence of his voice so low you almost don’t catch it.

“I do,” you say, fingers absentmindedly stroking his soft shirt. A nervous habit. “I remember. It was my favorite part of the day. You were so…kind. Quiet. Maybe a little shy, but…you were a great addition to the program. I liked having you there.”

He snorts again, the sound full of disbelief and contempt. “Yeah. Right.”

You lean back, head tilting to look up at him. “I did.”

He looks down. Stares. Says nothing.

You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you do suppose you want to know why. What changed between the days when you were almost friends to…now.

“I’m not mean to you,” he finally answers, a bit softer than his last remark. “Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Oh, so the constant insults and degrading comments are just a part of your charm and charisma?” you tease, hoping to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work.

His lips press into a thin line. “Why do you care if I’m nice to you or not?”

“I’m…’cause you used to be,” you say, rather confused by the question. “And clearly something changed, I just…I don’t know. I want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“No, why do you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. We’re not friends.”

“Yeah. I know. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t we friends?”

He leans back now, too. “…why the fuck would we be?”

You shrug. “Because we work together. And have to spend a lot of time together. And it would be nice to at least be civil.”

“I don’t want to be civil,” he scoffs. “Especially with you.”

Now even more startled, you blink at him. “I’m sorry, what the fuck does that mean?”

Again, his jaw clamps shut, effectively ending his side of the conversation.

You’ve struck a nerve, but you have no idea which one.

And despite the fact that he’s still holding you, his touch has grown cold and distant.

So, you snatch his shirt between your fingers and tug. “Stop doing that. Just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about—”

“Yes, there is. Look…if I…did something…just tell me. Okay, because I probably didn’t mean to, and I can’t exactly apologize for it if I don’t know. So, just…spit it out—”

“No—”

“Yes—”

“I said fucking no—”

“And I said I don’t fucking care. Now, tell me what I—”

“Charlie.”

The name brings your response to a halt as you hesitate and flick your eyes between his, looking for understanding. “…what?”

Harry takes a deep breath as if steeling himself from the conversation. “Fucking Charlie, all right? You started dating Charlie. That’s what you did.”

There’s a certain disdain behind his expression that you manage to make out and it throws you for a loop. “I…wait, what? I don’t get it, why is that bad?”

He hesitates before sighing, seeming to dismiss the conversation altogether. “Forget it.”

“No, seriously,” you insist, tugging on him again. “Did…did you want to date him?”

His eyes roll. “Here we fucking go—”

“No, I mean it. ’Cause I don’t understand why else that would make you hate me—”

His attention snaps back down. “I don’t hate you, I…look. It doesn’t fucking matter, all right, so just drop it—”

“It does matter. It does, Harry, because it’s been driving me nuts for four years and I can’t take it anymore.”

And maybe he’s tired, too. Maybe he’s delirious from the long journey or maybe he’s just tired of talking, but for whatever reason, he finally lets his vulnerability slip through the cracks.

You see it peak through his expression. See it—feel it—in the way he holds you. Looks at you. In the way he fights with himself to reveal the truth.

“Because I liked you,” he says. So simply, you could almost be tricked into thinking it is. “I liked you. A lot. But you didn’t like me. You liked him.”

You can say nothing. Can offer no response or reaction as your lashes flutter and your brain works to process what he just admitted to you.

His jaw tenses as he waits. “Yeah. Exactly. So…there you fucking go. Happy?”

“I—” Your heart begins to race wildly inside your chest as this secret bounces around the walls of your mind. “Harry, I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he mumbles, shifting a little as his grip begins to loosen, desperate to let you go and pull himself away. “Why would you have? I’m not Charlie.”

You frown. You don’t like the implication in his tone. “No, you’re not Charlie. And you should be really fucking glad you aren’t.”

Now, it’s his turn to work through your reply. “…what do you mean?”

“I mean Charlie was a fucking ass,” you tell him, past resentment slipping through your hostile tone. “Okay, cheating on me was one of the nicer things he did.”

And you almost think you see pity in his eyes mixed with just the slightest hint of rage. “He cheated on you?”

“Oh, yeah. Cheated on, belittled me, ditched me in the middle of one of our dates with no way to get home,” you recall. “Not to mention he was shit in bed, he couldn’t be bothered to learn my last name, and he owes me over fifteen thousand dollars.”

Harry rears back. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope.” You almost smirk, somehow amused by his utter shock. “So, trust me…Charlie was not a threat to you. In fact, nobody could have been a threat to you.”

“And what does that mean?”

He sounds suspicious and you hesitate, curious as to whether or not this is really something you want to admit.

You swallow the urge. “It just means…you were my friend. And I cared about you, and it kind of fucking sucked when you turned on me.”

His expression falls, frown mirror your own. He opens his mouth, ready to respond, but then stops. He stops and he looks at you and he mulls.

You wish he’d allow you a visit inside his mind. Wish he’d clue you into his thought process but perhaps it’s better this way.

And maybe he was right. Maybe this is your thing. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t like you.

Maybe that’ll make it easier to stay away.

“So…he was shit in bed, huh?” Harry murmurs after a moment, and your brow raises.

“Really? That’s what you’re taking from what I said?” you tease, playfully slapping at his chest. “Very funny.”

“M’not being funny,” he insists, nodding his chin at you. “Must have been hard for you. Or…I guess soft?”

Your eyes narrow as you smirk. “Ha. Ha.”

For the first time all day…he smiles. “Look, I just…I feel bad for you, you know? I mean, yeah, the cheating and stealing and being an ass part all suck. But…the bad sex? That’s just unforgivable.”

“It was heinous,” you agree, feigning a wounded sigh. “Seriously, I had to replace three vibrators over the course of our relationship. Three.”

He sucks in an empathetic breath. “Yikes.”

“I know. But I got really buff in my right arm.”

His grin widens until you can see his bunny teeth. “For fuck’s sake—”

“But not the left one for some reason. So it was really uneven. I looked like a Picasso painting—”

“Oh, my god. Stop. Please stop talking—”

“What? You’re the one that asked.”

“Yeah, I asked because clearly you need some help.”

This time, you rear back, eyebrow raising as you look at him. “I’m sorry…what?”

And he almost looks like he regrets the words that just came out of his mouth, but instead of taking them back…he shrugs one shoulder up. “Well…come on. You have to admit you’re…tense.”

“Wha—I am not tense,” you sputter. “I’m…I…just because I don’t put up with your shit does not make me tense.”

“No, but you not being able to come the way you deserve does.”

It’s so…tenacious the way he speaks. The way he says deserve like he’s had this thought before.

You wonder if he has.

“And who says I haven’t?” you counter.

“Have you?”

Your split-second hesitation is answer enough and his smirk returns as he hums to himself.

“Got it,” he mumbles, letting his eyes rake down your face. “Like I said…s’a shame.”

You snort, “Oh, is it?”

“It is.”

“And why is that?”

“Cause I could probably help you out.”

There it is again. That confidence in what he’s offering that makes your breath hitch. “Harry…come on.”

“Come on what?” he teases. “Your tongue? Your stomach? Your pus—”

“Okay, all right, enough,” you interject, wincing a bit as you lean away. “Seriously. Stop.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think? We can’t…this is a weird conversation,” you huff. “You don’t…that’s not what we…it’s just weird.”

“Why do you think it’s weird?”

An unamused glare begins to form. “Because it is.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because we don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like that.” Your hand quickly gestures between your bodies. “You said it yourself. Our thing is being mean. Arguing and fighting and you getting on my nerves.”

He hums again, as if considering it. “Well…maybe this can be our thing, too.”

“Harry.”

“Princess.”

The exasperated expression on your face deepens at the familiar nickname. “It is not going to be our thing.”

“Fine,” he sighs, one hand raising as he surrenders himself. “I’m just saying…it would probably help you stay warm.”

Oh, he’s such a fucking—

“That’s…dumb,” is what you choose to reply with, to which he smiles.

“Maybe,” he agrees. “But it works. All that body heat, and friction, and excursion—”

“Harry.”

“Princess.”

Your lips set into a line. “Are you being serious right now or are you fucking with me? Because I really can’t tell.”

“I’m being serious,” he says, just as simply as before. “Dead fucking serious.”

“Why?”

Another shrug. “Told you. I feel bad for you.”

You scoff rather incredulously as you turn over onto your back, forcing his arms out from around you. “I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Clearly.”

It goes quiet then, both of you falling in line with the comfortable silence.

After a moment, you look over, suddenly aware of the absence of his body now that you’re no longer trapped against his chest.

And you almost…miss it. The warmth, and the slight serenity, and…the safety.

He’s one of the most annoying people you’ve ever met but he’s damn good at his job. He’s quick, he’s smart, and he’s quite capable.

And he’s got more muscles than he’s got brain cells.

“What?” he grumbles, seeming to finally notice your staring.

“Sorry,” you whisper, shaking the thought of him free as you glance back up at the ceiling.

But you feel him study you. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“No,” you deny instantly, cheeks flushing at the very idea. “God, Harry. You’re so—”

“Annoying. Yes. I know. I’m also quite good with my hands if that’s any help—”

“Harry.”

“Princess,” he mimics, and you can hear the smile. “We don’t have to, I’m just saying…my services are here.”

“Services,” you repeat under your breath, snorting some. “How romantic.”

“Never claimed to be romantic. Just claimed to be good.”

“Well, you would think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know so.”

“Yeah, well, Charlie thought he knew so, too.”

“Well, we’ve already established I’m not Charlie, haven’t we?”

Your eyes flick back over to his. “Maybe. That doesn’t make you good.”

“And what about me implies that I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know. The fact that you called it services?”

“Getting you off is a service. A very nice one, actually. Or would you rather call it a favor?”

“I’d rather call it nothing. Because it makes it sound cheap.”

“We’re in a roadside motel. What about this entire trip doesn’t scream cheap to you?”

“The fact that we work for the government. And the fact that they’re not paying us to…you know.”

“What? You can’t even say it? Come on, Princess, I thought you were better than that.”

“I’m…I…” It’s incredible how quickly he’s managed to render you speechless. “I’m just saying, that’s not what we’re here for.”

“People fuck on the job all the time,” he reminds you. “Just last week, Spencer Reid told me about this girl he met in Vegas—”

“I don’t wanna hear that,” you exclaim, hands immediately flying to your ears to protect you from any unpleasant information about your friend. “What he does is none of my business.”

“You mean who he does,” Harry corrects smugly. “Look, Hotch doesn’t care. As long as the job gets done, it doesn’t matter.”

“So…what? That makes it okay?”

“Okay? It’s just an orgasm, it’s not murder—”

“Shit like that is personal,” you huff. “It’s intimate and…delicate. You know? It’s not for people who already don’t like each other. That makes it…messy.”

“Yeah, well…I like it messy,” he says, and despite yourself, there’s a catch in your throat. “Besides, I don’t know why we’re still talking about it if you don’t want to do it.”

You hesitate. He’s got a point.

Suddenly, he pushes up onto his forearm to really get a good look at you. “…unless you do want to. And you’re trying to argue yourself out of it.”

Your mouth drops open. “What? No, I…no.”

He snorts. “Oh, well, I’m convinced.”

“I don’t,” you insist before the truth begins to beat against your ribcage like a drum. “I mean…I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

“No. Not unless we make it weird.”

“Well how do I know you won’t make it weird?”

“It was my idea. Why would I make it weird?”

“Because you are weird.”

“Yeah, but I’m still good.”

You exhale a sharp breath. “Harry…I’m being serious.”

He returns your stare. “So am I.”

“Well…I still don’t understand why you want to. Don’t guys hate stuff like that?”

“Stuff like what?” he retorts. “Fingering you? Eating you out? Tasting you? I’m sorry, what part of that doesn’t sound like a fucking dream?”

“Listen, Charlie used to tell me that it was gross—”

“And Charlie’s a fucking pussy,” Harry decides, rather resolutely. “Which is ironic since he doesn’t know what to do with one. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us are. Okay, we know how to enjoy the finer things in life.”

“Is that…a compliment?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Thanks. Are you convinced?”

Are you convinced? You almost want to laugh at the very question but…perhaps you are. Perhaps he’s right—yet again—and this one-time agreement could offer you a bit of…help.

And heat.

Since it’s still fucking freezing.

“If I say yes…you have to promise to never…bring this up again,” you begin as he straightens up. “Never, Harry. I mean it. Not as a joke. Not when you’re mad at me. Not when we’re in front of anyone. Ever.”

“What, you think I want people to know about this?” He smirks. “Promise. What happens in the shitty roadside motel stays in the shitty roadside motel.”

“Great.” Your hands gather in front of your stomach as you begin to pick at your nail beds. “So…okay. Great. Is that…I mean, are you—”

“What do you need?”

You blink. “What…what do you mean?”

“My mouth or my fingers. What do you need?”

God, this feels too fucking real. You swallow rather thickly as you move your focus to his nose, looking for something less intimidating to concentrate on. “I don’t know. Whichever you want, I guess.”

“It’s not about what I want,” he replies easily. “It’s about what you need. So, I’m gonna ask you again. And this time I need an answer, all right?”

You simply look at him.

“What do you need…to come?” he asks softly, moving a bit closer across the mattress as his breath fans across your face. “Do you need my mouth? My tongue? My fingers?”

His hand outstretches for your neck, palm sliding up until his thumb can sweep along your jaw.

“Hm?” he hums, gazing down at you rather curiously as you lean back into the pillows. “Or do you need it all? Do you need more? Need to feel full? Fucked?”

You feel like you’re being pulled into a trap. Lured into the devious intentions swimming behind his eyes.

But you don’t…care.

“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, Princess,” he continues, his voice like silk. Sex. “Give you whatever you need. Just have to ask.”

“I don’t…I don’t know, really,” you whisper, desperate to shove the control in his hands. “I’m not…I don’t care. Do whichever you’re comfortable with.”

“Darling…there is nothing about you I couldn’t be comforted by,” he says, finger teasing your bottom lip. “Do you really think…I’d choose not to feel you? Slip myself inside you and feel how fucking tight you are. ’Cause I know you are, aren’t you, honey? Bet you’re so soft…so warm…so fucking wet. Be so easy to taste you for myself.”

He was right. He is good at this.

And maybe in the past you’ve liked to have some control, but right now…you’d do anything for him. Be anything he wanted you to be.

He knows exactly what you need. Knows that you need someone to put you in your place. Guide you toward what you want.

“Why don’t I start with my hand?” he suggests gently, looking for approval on your face. “Give you a minute to realize how much you like it.”

When your only response is continued staring, his head tilts.

“Words, Princess,” he warns. “Or we stop.”

And really, he hasn’t even done anything yet but the very idea of stopping makes your stomach recoil.

“Fine,” you manage to breathe. “Your…hand. That’s…fine.”

You hate how…nervous you sound. How unsure, but Harry is more than willing to make up for the slack, grinning to himself as he trails his palm back down your neck.

“Need you to relax for me, okay?” he instructs as he reaches your chest, delicately and tamely slipping between your breasts toward your stomach. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t graze, doesn’t take a moment to fondle you like a prepubescent horny boy. He does only what he said he was going to. “Just like that, there you go.”

He continues to glide along the fabric of your shirt until he reaches your hips where the band of your pants lie.

His finger taps against the elastic, almost as if waiting.

“Say it again,” he whispers, dipping down until his nose ghosts across your cheek. “Need to hear you say it one more time.”

And you wonder if he really does want to be adamant about consent…

…or if he just enjoys hearing you submit.

“Please,” you just about gasp, suddenly aware of the lust you feel for his touch. The way you really do feel…empty. “Please, Har…just…just—”

His hand disappears beneath the material, and when you feel him brush over the fabric of your underwear…your eyes flutter shut.

He chooses to forgo skin on skin contact. At least for now, and you imagine it’s because he’s waiting for you to feel a bit more at ease.

And the rather generous thought does something to your stomach as he begins to drag the pad of his thumb down your covered clit.

You go still. Deathly still because it feels so fucking good. You hadn’t realized you were this wound up but instantly…your muscles turn to jelly.

“How’s that, hm?” comes the low purr of his voice, his lips now much closer to your ear. “Feel good?”

You nod mutely as your hands begin to fist the sheets below you.

“Good,” he replies, seemingly proud as he repeats the previous action before moving down. Then…he tsks. “Oh, honey…what’s this?”

You venture a glance over at him as he leans back to see you.

“Already so wet,” he says, fighting his amusement. “What’s got you so worked up, darling? Haven’t even done anything yet.”

Truthfully, you don’t know. You hadn’t realized. Maybe he’s just that good or maybe your body has been more complicit to his unspoken intentions than you were aware of.

Either way, he’s right. You are so pathetically wet, and he hasn’t even fully touched you yet.

“Have you been thinking about it this whole time?” he asks next, voice slipping back through the needle of salacious resolve. “Hm? Just been lying here, dripping for me? Needing me to make it better?”

He adds a bit more pressure and you gasp, the ache between your thighs growing much more unbearable.

He does it again before slowing down and your chest just about caves in.

“What?” He moves closer again, grinning to himself as he places his lips against your neck. “Something wrong?”

“Har…” you nearly whine, squirming some under his hold.

His tattooed arm flexes as he rolls the heel of his hand down your clit. “What? What is it? What do you need?”

You, you, you. The thought screams inside your head as he licks his tongue along your jaw.

“Please…” you say instead, hoping you sound desolate enough to garner his sympathy.

“Please what? Can’t read your mind, honey. Need you to tell me.”

You groan in the back of your throat, partially from his arrogant, flippant behavior and partially from the way he’s pulling at your skin with his teeth.

“Just…just…” Still, the request refuses to come out, and you want to smack yourself for being so weak.

“Just…just?” he repeats, somewhat mockingly but still gentle. “Just what? Just…this?”

You feel his finger hook around the hem of your panties before he’s effortlessly pulling it aside to graze his touch through you.

And you moan, so much louder than you’d meant to. Because even this simple touch does more for you than Charlie ever did.

“Ah,” he murmurs as he dances his mouth down the side of your throat. “That’s what you need.”

And before you have the chance to reply, he’s slipping a finger inside right at the same time that he’s raising up to kiss you.

Really kiss you, his tongue tangling with yours as you willingly give him every breath in your lungs.

The combination of sensations just about kills you as he effortlessly works his touch in and out with ease.

And he’s not recoiling the way you imagined he might. He’s not half-assing it or declaring he’s already done.

No, he’s…he’s indulging in you. Truly and completely as he groans into your bottom lip before sucking on it.

“Fucking knew it,” he whispers, moving to sit up on the bed so he can fully hover over you. “Fucking knew…”

You aren’t quite sure what he means but you do like the way he says it, your skin flushing as he gently introduces you to a second finger.

And it’s so good. So…full. Exactly the way you’d hoped. Exactly the way he’d promised.

Practiced, and patient, and pure pleasure. Right now, you know nothing but this feeling he’s giving you.

His kisses grow hungrier. Angrier. Like he’s fighting himself on how much he’s enjoying it.

And it makes sense. You’re rather annoyed yourself at how easy it was to start needing him. How desperate he’s made you become in such a short time.

Your arms move to wrap around his shoulders and keep him close, nails scratching at the few hairs lying on the nape of his neck.

You hear him sigh. Perhaps with contentment as he places his other hand on the mattress to brace himself and fully give in.

You wish you’d turned a light on. Wish you could really see him. Drink him in. Admire the man you’ve always loved to look at.

Because he is quite fun to look at.

Your hips lift from the mattress as if chasing the feeling he’s offering, and he makes a noise against your mouth that’s a mix between entertained and disappointed.

“Easy,” he chastises, subtly pushing you back down. “Come on, Princess. Be a good girl and stay still for me.”

“Har,” you whimper again, pulling a bit harder on his curls. “Please…just…hurry.”

“No,” he says simply, and your lashes flutter. “No, I’m gonna enjoy you. Gonna take my time…and you’re gonna take it.”

You exhale a wounded whine as he leans back and slowly removes his fingers.

And the loss of stimulation just about ruins you.

“Fuck,” you seethe between gritted teeth. “Come on. God, knew you’d be a fucking pain in my—”

His hands latch onto your pajama pants and underwear so he can pull them down, and when the cold air hits your cunt…you gasp again.

Once they’re off and discarded to the side, he maneuvers along the mattress until he can take hold of your thighs and guide them apart.

Then…he blows.

A warm, gentle breath dances across your already sensitive pussy, making you tense as he settles onto his stomach.

His fingers constrict around your legs to keep them planted firmly to the bed as he leans in to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

Then, another.

And another.

Higher, and higher, and higher until he’s so close…you can practically taste it.

He pauses and you aren’t sure why. You hope it’s not because something’s wrong. Or because he’s repulsed. Or because he’s changed his—

His tongue presses into your cunt with fervor and pressure, cutting your overthinking short as he takes that taste.

And just like that…everything makes sense.

All you understand his him, and his mouth, and his lips, and the powerful rush of immense and innate pleasure washing over you.

But it doesn’t just wash, it surrounds you. Overwhelms you. Pulls you down until you feel like you’re drowning.

There’s static in your brain as he sucks on your clit and squeezes your legs in his hands. As he leaves kisses across your pussy and traces his name across every inch.

“Harry,” you whisper, too overcome to care how pathetically enamored you sound. “Please…please…please…”

You can’t see him, but you don’t doubt that he’s proud. Probably smiling to himself as he releases one leg to slip his fingers back in.

He curls, and he stretches, and he sucks until your skin is on fire. Until it almost hurts. Until you feel as though you can’t hold it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, nose bumping into your hip as he works you closer. “S’a good girl…you can take it, come on.”

“Shit…shit, Har,” you breathe, muscles burning from the way you attempt to hold yourself together. “Can’t…please…”

“Yes you can. You can, come on—”

“Harry—”

“I know, Princess. I know. S’okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you—”

“Please…”

“Shh…let me play with you. M’having so much fun. Don’t wanna stop.”

And you don’t want him to stop either. You never want him to stop again. You want to stay here, in this shitty motel, on this lumpy mattress, in his hands. Forever.

He’s so warm, and strong, and safe, and good.

And you can feel the tears slip from your eyes from the immense build-up and from the realization that you are so insanely��happy right now.

You hate him. God, you fucking hate him.

But there’s no one else you’d want around. No one else you can even imagine yourself doing this with.

You don’t want to let this go. This joy, this serenity, this moment.

Him.

You don’t want to let go.

But you know…you’ll have to.

The tears begin to flow a bit faster as you suck in a sharp inhale through quivering lips.

You focus in on his touch. His voice. The gentle rasp that encourages you to keep going. That he’s got you. That you’re doing so good. That he can’t wait to taste you.

And you can’t do it any longer. Can’t hold off, can’t fight it.

You come with a mangled whimper, fingers clawing down the sheets as your thighs squeeze around his head. As you see a glimpse of heaven while he makes you roll against his tongue. As everything changes.

“Fucking perfect,” he hums, working you through every second, thrusts slowing as he eases you back down. “So good, honey. Just like I wanted.”

But you don’t respond. Can’t. Not out of remorse or embarrassment…but because your throat has gone dry from the tears.

And as the dark motel room falls silent…he hears it. Hears your cries as you struggle to contain your emotion.

“Hey…hey,” he calls sternly, quickly straightening up so he can move closer. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?”

You don’t answer as he reaches over to flick on the bedside lamp, and the moment the light fills the room, you throw your hands over your face.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms, cheeks stained with broken promises and humiliation. “Fuck…fuck, I’m sorry—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he warns, fingers already wrapping around your wrists to pull them down. “Don’t fucking do that. Don’t. Just tell me what happened, tell me what’s wrong.”

But you don’t. Can’t. You simply blink up at him as he studies you, the trepidation clearly etched across his expression.

For a moment, you both stay there. Him kneeling above you, hands tight around yours, and you. Lying in your defeat.

After a minute of silence has come and gone, he seems to understand. Seems to accept that this isn’t about what did happen.

It’s about what didn’t.

His eyes grow sad as he sighs and reaches up to brush a thumb down your lip.

Then, he caresses your cheek with more tenderness than you’ve ever seen from him.

“I know,” he murmurs while your heart just about shatters. “In another life…I would have done it right.”

And you know exactly what he means.

You sniffle as he dips down to find you again. Mouth on yours as a hundred unspoken promises pass between you.

“Yeah…in another life.”

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years ago

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Hi! Would you mind writing a Tom!peter parker x fem reader. Something where she is really shy and doesn't think Peter likes her and then maybe she gets injured or something and Spiderman helps her then reveals he is peter and confession? Thanks for your time!

A/N: last time I sprained my ankle it happen on stairs like this, except I wasn't looking at my phone, I was carrying a huge box so I couldn't see my feet... also I remember not telling anyone and walking all the way home on it, just biting in the pain...

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

masterlist | join my taglist

“Hey miss?” you blinked up from your swollen foot to see none other then the masked hero of the city, “you alright there?”

“Oh my god, you’re-, you’re-…” you stumbled, your eyes growing wide as Spiderman kneeled down before you, “h-hi.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, your overactive nerves not causing his concern to fade.

“Yeah, I was just looking at my phone when I walked down the stairs,” you breathed, motioning back at the mountainous steps you now rested at the foot of, “and thought I was at the bottom, but apparently I wasn’t and fell and now I think I might have sprained my ankle with how it rolled when I tumbled down.”

“Mind if I have a look?”

Palm running down over the broken denim at the slope of your knee, you sighed, “why not,” stretching your right leg slightly over in his direction, “can’t really make it much worse now.”

Carefully scooping it closer with his already extended fingers, you failed to swallow a sharp hiss as he gently inspected your enflamed appendage, “yeah, that’s sprained alright.”

“What are you a doctor when you’re not swinging around New York?” the joke flew out past your lips faster than you could catch it.

“U-uh…” he slowly lowered your foot back down, though your panicked words filled the air before he had a chance to react.

“Sorry, that was a joke,” you averted your gaze, mentally chastising yourself as you felt a hot flush creep over your features, “a really really bad joke…”

Still steady at your side, the masked man offered, “you want some help getting home?”

“F-from you?” your saucer-like eyes stared up at him, “no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, there’s probably a robbery or something more important just around the corner you should-”

“This is important,” he calmly cut off your babbling, “I can’t just let a fellow New Yorker try and stumble home on a sprained ankle all alone.”

“I kinda live all the way out in Queens…” you gnawed at your bottom lip, the throbbing pain becoming more paralyzing with every passing minute.

“Yeah, I know-,” he eagerly answered, almost as if your destination hadn’t been a surprise, then hastily reeled back and corrected himself, “I mean, I was heading in that direction already.”

“Alright, um, thank you, Spiderman,” you timidly smiled up at him, genuinely blown away by his kindness.

Supporting your weight, he gave you a hand as you straightened yourself back up from the cold steps. Wincing lowly as you briefly tested what a little pressure on the injury felt like, the pain swiftly got switched out with a flutter in your belly as the hero guided both your arms around his neck and drew you in close.

Gliding his left arm further down and hooking it around your waist, he tilted his masked features down closer to you as he uttered, “hold on tight,” before white webbing shot out of his right wrist and wrapped around the tall lamppost you stood under.

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nxuvillette · 1 year ago

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LOVER OF MINE — WAKASA IMAUSHI

synopsis: you and wakasa have been together for almost six months. he decides one day to reminisce on where it all began.

❥- pairings : wakasa imaushi x fem!reader

❥- note : came up with this randomly, LMAO. it was also inspired by lover of mine by 5sos <3 i hope you all enjoy and reblogs are appreciated !!!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, established relationship, fluff, use of pet names (princess), some suggestive content, mentions of alcohol, wakasa is so in love with you.

wakasa imaushi never thought he was capable of falling in love.

he remembered when he saw you for the first time. he was out for a drive to clear his head and he ended up stopping at a local convenience store he had been to many times. you were standing out front, seemingly waiting for someone or possibly a ride. at first, he didn’t bat an eye at you, but that all changed when you spoke to him for the first time.

“um, excuse me, do you know how to get back to aspen street..? i kind of lost my way.”

your voice was like honey. it was smooth and sweet and rolled off your tongue nicely. if it was anybody else, he would have just ignored the question and went inside to get his beer, but something about you was pulling him in. it was like there was some kind of string pulling you both towards one another.

“let me take you there. it’s late and you shouldn’t be walking by yourself.”

wakasa never thought those simple words would be the reason why you were now lying beside him in the sheets of his bed. he found it hard to believe that six months ago he saw you as a stranger. someone who was simply looking for directions and now you were his girlfriend. your relationship was one of the reasons he had given up bad habits. you taught him to be gentle, caring. all of the things he wasn’t before he met you. he adored your little mind games.

the sun’s golden rays peeked into your shared bedroom. usually, wakasa would be fast asleep with you in his arms, but instead, he was awake and staring at your beautiful face. he could never get enough of you.

your eyes twitched for a brief moment before you peeled them open, revealing your sleepy hues that were sensitive to the bright light that filled the room. he couldn’t help but smile when you lifted your eyes to look at him. his hair was sprawled all over his pillow and he still seemed a little hazy from sleep. “mornin’ princess..” his voice was hoarse from sleep, but nonetheless it sounded sexy.

you lifted yourself just enough to lie your head against his chest. a smile spread across your cheeks when you heard the soft beat of his heart in your ear. “morning.. did you sleep well?” you twirled a piece of his dual colored hair between your fingertips.

wakasa pressed a kiss atop the crown of your head, trailing his fingers down your backside. he loved mornings like this when it was just the two of you bathing in each other’s embrace. your skin was so soft and your natural scent was enough to calm him down. it made him never want to leave your side. “of course.. especially with you here.” he squeezed your body lightly, making you snuggle into him.

you tilted your face upwards to press a small kiss on his jaw. wakasa couldn’t help but chuckle at the sensation of your lips against him. it also made him quite excited.

a yelp escaped your lips when wakasa pushed you on top of him, so you were now straddling his waist. despite your hair being somewhat messy from sleep, you still looked like a queen in front of him. “have i ever told you how fuckin’ sexy you are?” he questioned, raising his eyebrow at you.

you giggled at his tone. “yes.. always.” you smiled, feeling bashful.

wakasa brought you in for a kiss, grabbing your ass in the process. you were completely taken back by his sudden action, but nonetheless did you enjoy it. it was so great. there was nowhere else you’d rather be than with him right beside you. “i love you..” he whispered against your lips.

you grinned, pressing your forehead against his. “i love you more.” you replied.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers fluff #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa fluff #wakasa x you #wakasa x y/n

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haerin1 · 1 year ago

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hcs you have for Scara? Love seeing new writers around here 🫶

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ SCARA HEADCANNONS.

note: omh ty for the req !! i did 2 versions bcause i got carried away UM anw enjoy xoxo kisses hugs :33

[wanderer!scara, modern au!scara x gn!reader] fluff, pinches of angst, mentioned mommy issues and trust issues !!

modern au scara !!

Scara is definitely a band kid and in my opinion, he'd absolutely be an electric bassist. He carries around the band-aids you gave him so he can use one whenever his fingertips get cut from the tough strings of the instrument.

Scara loves judging everybody in his classes and making people uncomfortable because he's a menace like that. His narrowed sapphire gaze following certain people with ill thoughts and a slight grimace; you already know he's judging them real hard.

It's simply impossible for him to go a day, no, even an hour, without his headphones and downloaded music from his favourite artists. Scara's music taste consists mostly of Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex and he's a closeted Mitski listener.

Mommy issues and miscommunication trope with Ei. Scara aspires to be anything else but the occupation Ei suggested for him. Ei compares Scara to his sister, Raiden, without knowing it hurts Scara's feelings because she's bad at communicating and getting her words right overall.

Shops at Hot Topic and Miniso. Miniso, because he only goes there for the Kuromi stuff that reminds him of you (since you're always telling him how you and him are literally Kuromi and Badtzmaru) and Hot Topic is self-explanatory.

Adding onto the Kuromi and Badtzmaru topic. Ever since you made that comment, Scara ended up loving that specific pair of cute Sanrio characters. He now owns a Badtzmaru hoodie (yours is a Kuromi one: hashtag couple goals), five Kuromi figures and more than thirty things consist of Badtzmaru in his bedroom.

Scara's bedroom is neat but messy at the same time. The room is fairly big and he has his bassist on its stand in the corner of the room with a huge Badtzmaru plushie sitting on the floor by it. His bed is filled with your gifts of plushies from past dates or occasions.

Scara has an area dedicated to his favourite music artists with posters of their albums plastered to the black painted wall. You bought him TV Girl's French Exit vinyl for his birthday, which he always plays on the record player whenever you come over or when he's missing you (by missing you, I mean whenever you're not with him).

Everytime you mention a new song you like, Scara immediately learns it on his bass so he can impress you. You find it so cute how these little gestures of his are all for your compliments and affection when all he could do is breathe and you'd be head over heels for him.

Scara is unfiltered, cunning and a tease. He'll say whatever he wants at any given time and doesn't mind what people think at all (he fights back the urge to rock someone's shit when they disagree with him.) He's your cute little drama queen.

genshin au scara (wanderer) !!

Wanderer's favourite time of day is when the sun starts to set and he gets to have his long awaited tea time with you. You know the perfect way on how to make his tea and it's so natural to the point of when Wanderer tastes any other tea, it just can't compare to the way you make it.

Despite loving you very dearly, and he'd never admit this last bit aloud, he still has some sort of doubt against you. Should something happen to you that marks your permanent disappearance that neither you or him could prevent, what would he do? Wanderer simply does not know. And he certainly wouldn't want to know.

Wanderer enjoys the feeling of your hands in his hair. Whether your hands are soft, rough, cold, or warm, he doesn't mind. He just loves feeling your gentle and affectionate touch against his head as you play with his hair or even braid some strands together.

In general, Wanderer loves physical touch. Holding hands, soft kisses and hugs; It's all so wonderful to him. It makes him feel wanted and loved, like you actually think of him dearly. He loves it especially when you initiate it first. After that, he'll be more than comfortable doing it without waiting for you to do it ahead of him.

Wanderer keeps all of the silly trinkets, gifts and letters you've given him in a box that's kept in a very safe place where no one knows, not even you. Everytime he comes across it, unknowingly to him, a soft smile forms on his lips as he remembers the fact that he's this important to you.

Wanderer absolutely adores it when he makes you smile or laugh. He'll proudly smirk and throw in a teasing remark at this but is hiding the fact that he's just an embarrassed doll with an adorable lover. He loves making you feel good, both verbally and physically, as it feeds his ego and reassures him that he's doing great at being your beloved.

Wanderer's gifts for you are usually handmade, like the cute doll that looks like you which he got to keep so he could give you a doll that looks like him in return. He loves seeing you carry the doll around with you when you want to take it out of your messenger bag, holding it so gently as if it were Wanderer himself.

Whenever you're not paying attention, Wanderer looks at you and observes you. He loves noticing new little things about you, like the way you make little popping noises with your lips when you're bored or the way you subconsciously reach out to hold onto his hand. He adores every, single, little thing.

Wanderer often finds himself trying to impress you. If he sees you walking about, he'll immediately find something heavy to pick up and "coincidentally" run into you so he can make sure you see his amazing skills. You find this habit of his somewhat adorable as you smile and praise him for his strengths. He ends up getting quite flustered, in the end.

Depending on Wanderer's mood, he'll be very flirty one moment or very shy the next. If you manage to outdo him with his charming comments, trust me, he turns into the cutest blushing mess ever. He'll look away as he denies your question about whether he became timid or not.

#✮+ cyvie's web library !#gender neutral reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche modern au #genshin modern au #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche fanfics #scaramouche fanfiction #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche imagines #kunikuzushi #wanderer

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coldlovehotblood · 27 days ago

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K queen could you please provide me with some izzy fic lmao 😭😭😭😭 so um i'm literally at the end of my uni semester and it's eating me out CAUSE I FEEL SO DUMB LIKE WHY TF AM I GETTING A DEGREE IF I CANT DO BASIC SHIT 💀💀💀💀💀💀 but i needed a super cute angst to fluff izzy fic where yn is going through this and she feels dumb and just bad about it all, and izzy helps her feeling better 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 literally handed 2 big projects today (i'm a programmer btw but that's irrelevant) and i got 3 tests next week AND I CANT BARELY THINK ANYMORE

Ok i'll shut up bye thank youuuuu

˗ˏˋ✩ˎˊ˗

SMARTY PANTS

The pressure of university is worse than you thought it’d be, swallowing you up before you realise what’s happening. Luckily, your boyfriend is willing to help you forget for a while.

w/c: 2,128

warnings: smut

a/n: haiii sorry for the wait! nah programming sounds like a headache to me you must have one of the biggest brains in all the land. wish i was that smart fr😔 anyway i hope this scratches the Izzy fluff itch and gives you a little boost. YOU’VE GOT THIS I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

GWORGGGG divider by @strangergraphics

You were burnt out. Badly.

Exhaustion wasn’t a strong enough word for it. You were so genuinely close to padlocking your apartment door and going into hibernation in an attempt to catch up on missed shuteye.

Every assignment felt colossal, and put another wall between you and the freedom university was supposed to give you once you moved away from home. You had wanted more space to breathe, more opportunities to explore the world and yourself, more time to spend with your boyfriend…

God, your boyfriend was so good about all of it. He knew when to give you space and when to fill that space. He knew it was eating you alive and kicking your ass. He never gave you grief for periods of silence. You honestly didn’t know how you deserved him.

This occasion was yet another display of his patience.

You were sitting on your bed, staring blankly at the wall, trying to will yourself to get up and do something productive. With assignments being at the forefront of your mind for the past week or two, everything else was left behind. Your room was in disarray, there were clothes to be washed, dishes to be done, the list went on and on. As the minutes ticked by, you got more frustrated with yourself and your inability to keep up with life. You couldn't tell if University was brutal or if you really were eternally a few steps behind.

It was frustrating.

That lump that had been sitting in the base of your throat for the whole day finally loosened up as a sob heaved its way out of you. Vision blurred with tears, you turned to lie on top of your bed covers, but you heard a knock down the hall.

It took an unbelievable amount of effort to haul yourself up from where you lay. You padded over and didn't bother to wipe your cheeks before opening the door. There stood Izzy in leather and dark wash denim, holding a bottle of Jack. The crappy, sparse, yellow light from the hall was dampened greatly by the grin he was sporting, but that quickly faded once he saw your face.

“Baby, are you ok?”

You really started to cry then. He came through the threshold at once and took you into his arms. That gorgeous woody scent you knew as his engulfed you. Wordlessly, he guided you back into your apartment and to the sofa, setting the bottle down in favour of pulling you on top and close.

You tucked your head into his shoulder, seeking more of his cologne as he soothed a hand down your spine, tracing light patterns with his fingertips as he went. You realised then that you could relax a bit and that you were able to shrug off the tight restraints of deadlines that had been digging into you like rough ropes tied too tight.

Your voice was croaky when you eventually thanked him after a few minutes of silence. He shook his head in response.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” you replied with a sniff.

One of his hands now pushed away some of the hair that had fallen over your face.

“I came ‘cause a while ago you told me today was the deadline for some pretty important things. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

You moved to look up at him from where you lay, and he dipped his head to look back at you, that same grin from before returning.

“I even brought a friend,” he spoke with a giggle, looking over to where he’d set the liquor bottle down. It was brand new, the amber contents sitting just below the unbroken seal as it ought to be.

You sighed before dropping your head again.

“How did you remember? I know that you and Axl are busy right now.”

“I wrote it down on some paper and kept it in my jacket. Every time I went to grab my lighter, I felt it and remembered. Figured it was the only way I could’ve.”

You were so fond of him it was sickening.

“You’re really dumb.”

“In comparison to you, yeah, honestly. All that computer stuff they have you doing is unbelievable.”

You let yourself feel the vibrations of his voice rumble against your cheek as you took in his words. Following this path had been your dream. Tech had always been an area of interest and pursuing it in university looked like the best path for you. For months, you had scoured high and low, looking for a place that would best accommodate you and the life you dreamed of creating. If you were going to do it, you were making damn sure you’d do it right. With the tech industry in the beginnings of a boom, it really was the best time to start.

However, you severely underestimated the pressure of the workload. You understood what you were getting yourself into when you signed up. You had read the course details a million times over, but actually having those deadlines hanging over your head, actually having those tests back to back with no wiggle room or time for a breather— it was harsh. Much worse than you thought it would be.

On top of that, the content was difficult. You had to take your passion seriously now. That doesn't sound like a big deal until you experience it yourself. It’s so strange, and new information was thrown at you with every lecture. The knowledge being given was amazing, but memorising all of it, being tested on it, brought everything into a different ballpark entirely.

In short, you were finding the rigour of it all extremely hard to keep up with, and the idea of dropping out was starting to paw at you like a dog looking for treats.

“I question why I’m doing it.”

Izzy scoffed and shook his head once more. This time his chin grazed your crown as he did.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re doing it because it’s what you love.”

“It is, but is it worth my sanity? I mean, there is constantly so much going on I feel like I’m losing even the basics.”

He said your name softly as his hand came to your cheek, encouraging your head up to meet his eyes.

“They wouldn’t have let you in if they thought you weren’t capable of keeping up. You are good at what you do, great even. And with this kind of an education? You’ll become fucking insane.”

His words brought you back to earth a bit. What he was saying made sense, but it wasn’t enough to fully satisfy that itching feeling of being behind, the feeling of non-existent eyes drilling into your back everytime you thought about work.

He tapped your cheek with his index and ring finger.

“Hey, let that pretty head rest. Let those projects and stray homework’s be the past and be here with me in the now.”

In the low light of your living room, his silver nose ring glinted as he tilted his head. You wished you could follow his instruction, but doubt is a stubborn thing. Tears filled your lash line again and he made a face so concerned and full of care it brought them on faster.

“Don’t cry, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Frustration grew once again and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you.

Suddenly, Izzy’s face changed as he looked into your salt-soaked eyes.

“I know how I can help.”

It was your turn to tilt your head.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

“What—“

“Just trust me,” he whispered, smiling handsomely as he came closer. You could feel his breath tickle your face a little bit with the proximity.

You were sinking deeper into a pool of uncertainty by the second, and he offered a hand to pull you to the surface. How could you refuse?

“Please,” you breathed back before he pressed his lips to yours.

Kissing him was like blinking, it came naturally and you didn’t have to think about it. Your mouths moved in sync so well it was easy to get lost in it. He was soft against you, each brush of lips like waves melting into each other upon impact. Seamless.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped the two of you gently so that he was hovering above you. Carefully, Izzy brought one hand down your body as he kept the other propped beside your head on the armrest, slowly dragging it lower and lower as he continued to kiss you.

He then pulled away from your mouth as he sat up straighter, giving himself two hands to meet at the waistband of your bottoms.

“What you need, sweetheart, is a distraction. That is something I can most certainly give,” he spoke, wiggling his eyebrows and making you laugh. Fingers under the fabric, he hesitated.

“Is this ok? We don’t have to do anything, it’s just an idea.”

He was too good to you. So sweet it’d be no time at all before every one of your teeth would have to be capped with silver.

“I trust you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before pulling them all the way down, taking your panties along with the movement. He was careful but quick.

“You’re so gorgeous here,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of your exposed lower half.

You blushed bright as you wiped at your eyes, loathing the tight feeling that came to your cheeks once tear tracks dried. Izzy ever so gently encouraged you to open your legs wider with his hands, parting them to place himself in between.

He lowered himself then to your hip, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses, whispering praises as he crept closer and closer to where you needed him most. You shivered as arousal bloomed in your stomach. Your being sung under his touch.

He stole one more glance of you, eyes glittering with excitement. He looked ready to buzz out of his skin and squeal. Every time he did this, you were left in disbelief at how eager he could be. You couldn’t decide if it was you or him that got off more to things like this.

Finally, he closed the gap between him and you, and you sighed with contentment. Izzy licked a stripe over your core and pleasure coursed throughout your body. Hypnotised, you let him have his way.

He was too good at it, knowing just how and where to brush his tongue in order to drive you mad. You didn’t realise it, but his lapping really was making you blank.

You were relaxing.

He built you up steadily and at the brink of orgasm he left you hanging, stunning you out of the bubble he’d lulled you into. This continued a couple of times as he made sure your brain was left mush and static.

Once satisfied with your state, he let you reach that dizzying peak of pleasure and tipped you over the edge, ecstasy bursting you open and leaving a supernova in it’s wake for your boyfriend to appreciate; the fruit of his labour: a lax-bodied, simple-minded version of you.

You panted with him as he brought you to his chest once again. You couldn’t really say anything but his name at that point so you opted for silence and squeezing him tight.

“Told you I knew,” he said huskily into your ear, nipping your lobe playfully.

It took a second for the words to come out, but you did eventually reply, “okay smarty pants, we get it.”

He laughed, the sound ringing loud and bright through the room before moving an arm under your knees and standing up, princess carrying you through your apartment to the bedroom. As he went, he continued his teasing, insisting you call him ‘ the smartest motherfucker to ever walk the earth’ before he tucked you in and took his place behind you, curled up tight to your back.

Worn out and kept cozy by Izzy’s warmth, it wasn’t long before sleep took you. You’d decided university was a problem for future you, as you at the time was more occupied thinking of all the ways they could prove they are the smarter motherfucker.

You were terribly in love, and, in that moment, that was what trumped everything else.

Also, you had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s waiting for you. That’s an immediate plus.

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses

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clangenrising · 11 months ago

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Month 12 - Leafbare

The sun was warm and strong over Smokyrose’s fur. Laid out on the stone of the warriors’ den, belly full, with her kits splayed out with their heads resting on her side, she felt like those sunbeams were filled with pure joy. It was so rare that she got to spend time with the girls like this, meaning Fogkit wasn’t running around and asking a million questions. As much as she adored her daughter’s curiosity and energy, she wasn’t a young queen anymore and she was much better suited to activities like this.

Purring, she rolled over to let her belly get some sun. Fogkit and Slatekit readjusted. Fogkit yawned and stretched her legs out, shrimp-like. Slatekit mewled softly and pulled herself closer, burrowing her face firmly into her mother’s fur. Smiling, Smokyrose reached over with a paw to help tuck Slatekit against her side.

After a moment, Slatekit spoke. “Hey… Mama?” Smokyrose opened one eye and twisted her head enough to look at her daughter who was staring at her with big, golden eyes.

“Yes, my darling?” she purred in reply.

“Um…” Slatekit tucked her chin shyly, hesitating on the words, then asked, “Is daddy evil?” Smokyrose’s purr died in her chest. That was not the question she had been anticipating.

“Uh, no. No, honey, he’s not evil.” She said, voice unsteady.

“But um,” Slatekit chewed her lip. “I heard Sparrowpaw say that he had to fight him. Don’t warriors only fight bad guys?”

“I see,” Smokyrose said sadly. She sat up, curling her tail over Slatekit to reassure her. She supposed this conversation was inevitable, as much as she had hoped never to have it. “It’s… complicated, but I’ll try to explain it, okay?”

Slatekit nodded mutely and Smokyrose continued. “Warriors fight to protect their Clan, right?” Slatekit nodded again. “So sometimes they fight foxes or badgers but sometimes they also fight the other Clans.”

“Really?” asked Slatekit.

“Mhm,” Nodded Smokyrose. “And the other Clans aren’t made up of bad guys, are they?”

“No,” Slatekit shook her head.

“That’s right.”

Slatekit shifted, lips pursed in confusion. “But, so… why do they fight them then? Isn’t that bad?”

Smokyrose sighed a little, a smile on her face. “Sadly, not everything is good or bad. Sometimes it's neither or a little bit of both. Sometimes warriors fight the other Clans because they need food or because they’re scared or because they get angry.”

“But you’re not supposed to do fights when you’re angry,” Slatekit’s brows furrowed deeper. She seemed on the verge of tears. “You’re supposed to go take some breathing time and then talk about it!”

“That’s right,” Smokyrose smiled, proud of her little girl, “but people don’t always do what they’re supposed to do. As a mediator, it’s my job to try and help them remember to talk about things instead of fighting but that doesn’t always work. Sometimes one side wants to talk but the other side is too angry and just wants to fight and so we have to fight them.”

“Is that what happened with daddy?”

Smokyrose swallowed and took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Not exactly. See…” She paused. How did she explain to her perfect, precious daughter that some cats didn’t care if they hurt other people? That most cruelty was born from indifference? That some of the rogues likely didn’t have a choice to fight or not?

“The city cats who are in charge don’t want to talk about things with us, but that doesn’t mean that all of the cats feel that way. The Code says that warriors have to listen to their leader, right?”

“Yeah,” said Slatekit.

“Well, it's the same for the city cats,” Smokyrose said. “Their leader wants to fight so they have to fight us. Your father is just following the rules of where he’s from. That doesn’t mean that what he does is okay, but it does explain it, just like how Fogkit being hungry doesn’t mean it's okay for her to be snippy but it explains why she feels that way. Does that make sense?”

“I guess…” Slatekit frowned and turned her gaze into Smokyrose’s fur.

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” she said. “Sometimes cats do things that are confusing. Your father was really, really nice to me and then he just stopped talking to me. It made me feel really confused but he probably has reasons for why he did those things.”

“But that’s mean,” Slatekit pouted. “Doesn’t he love you?”

Smokyrose swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

“Have you asked him?” Slatekit tilted her gaze up again.

“No, I haven’t had the chance.”

“You should ask him!” Slatekit squeaked. “You’re always saying that you have to talk about things instead of keeping them all quiet inside! Maybe if you talked to him he would come and stay with us.”

Smokyrose felt her chest squeeze tightly. “Oh, Slatekit,” she sighed, giving her daughter a few licks over the ears. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?!” Slatekit squeaked, starting to cry.

Fogkit stirred and sat up with a worried frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked, getting up to wrap Slatekit in a hug. “Slatekit, don’t be sad!”

“It’s okay, Fogkit,” Smokyrose gave her a few licks as well. “Remember, it's okay for people to be sad. We need to respect what Slatekit is feeling and support her.”

Slatekit was weeping openly now, her little body racked with tiny sniffles and sobs. Fogkit gave her a tighter hug but she screamed and started to struggle.

Smokyrose leaned down and picked Fogkit up by the scruff, pulling her away. “Hey, let’s give her some space, okay?” Slatekit buried her face in Smokyrose’s side and let out a long, keening wail, the kind that you gave when you wanted everyone to hear how miserable you were.

Fogkit pouted worriedly. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I know,” Smokyrose said, “but she needs space right now. We have to remember to respect her boundaries.”

“Okay,” Fogkit frowned.

Relieved that that was settled, Smokyrose turned her attention back to Slatekit. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so sad, honey,” she said gently. “Do you want anything to make you feel better or do you just need to cry?”

Slatekit sniffled pitifully and said, “Maybe just you to hold me gentle?”

“I can do that, sweetheart,” Smokyrose said, curling into a ball around her daughter with a comforting purr. Fogkit nuzzled into her mother’s side so that she could watch Slatekit’s face, tail twitching anxiously. Smokyrose sighed and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to put Slatekit at ease, to bring Ghost back and have him be a model father to her girls. She wished that things were simple.

But I haven’t talked to him about it at all, she thought. What if there’s something I don’t understand? If he’s as important as they say, maybe I could get him to listen! Maybe we could put an end to the fighting!

A tenuous strand of hope started to tug at her excitedly. With the kits, she had been out of work during the critical start of their interactions with the city cats. Would things have been different if she had put her mediator skills to the test? Could an open conversation possibly resolve the conflict without further bloodshed? A kittypet was dead. That definitely made her job more difficult, but at the very least, maybe they could agree on terms for the fighting to cease.

She turned the thoughts over in her mind, tried to remember everything she could about the conflict’s details, and tried to make a plan for negotiations as she held her daughter close until she had cried all of her tears.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Smokyrose #Ghost #Leafbare #clangenrising #Fogpaw #Slatepaw

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all-about-kyu · 1 year ago

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Summary: Maybe a stupid old law isn’t so horrible after all. Pairing: Prince!Jeno x Dutchess!reader Trope: royalty au, arranged marriage au Genre: fluff Rating: PG Warning: language Word Count: 758 Note: for my Anniversary Event

Rai's Version

“I don’t give a fuck that I need to get married by next spring.” Jeno bites in a low voice.

“Your Highness-”

Jeno cuts off the royal advisor with a glare that could put anyone six feet under. Everything about this hundreds year old law was stupid. There was nothing logical about it anymore. Had this still been the 1800s or something, sure, but it was 2023. Why should he have to marry by the time he’s 24, and to someone of noble blood at that. There were plenty of people that weren’t of noble blood that would make fine rulers if given the proper training. It’s not even like people die young typically anymore, Jeno isn’t anywhere near death. Unless there was some freak accident in the palace walls, there was no way he was going anywhere.

“Jeno,” His father says in a quiet yet firm tone, “we gave you a chance to cooperate… your mother, the advisors, and I chose someone for you.”

“Like hell you did.”

His fathers face morphed into a simmering anger. Jeno knew he had pissed him off, he just couldn’t show it with the people around them. There was a knock on the door that cut through the tension in the room. After a small nod from the king, a servant stepped into the room quietly.

“She arrived.” She says meekly before bowing and leaving again.

“You brought her here?” Jeno asks, “You could’ve at least warned me before carting her all the way here.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later son.” His father sighs, “You are engaged after all.”

As much as Jeno doesn’t want to deal with this, he knows he can’t avoid it. Letting out a sigh he pushes his dark hair out of his face and fixes his tailored white button-up. His bodyguard leads him out of the room and in the direction that his father had went. At least it’s nice out today, he thinks to himself. The sun is shining and as he looks out onto the gardens he notices his mother walking down one of the paths, parasol over her head.

“You seem thrilled to be getting married,” His bodyguard, Johnny, comments.

“You know I don’t want to get married… at least not yet.” Jeno sighs, “We both know whatever noble girl they’re sticking me with is probably spoiled rotten and horrible company.”

He and Johnny are friends despite what their roles in the palace are. From the moment Johnny was assigned to the crowned prince the two of them bonded and formed a friendship. They fill the rest of their walk to the garden with idle conversation. Nothing heavy given how sour Jeno’s mood is knowing he’s being forced into a marriage.

“What if you end up liking her?” Johnny prods once they reach the oversized glass doors that lead to the garden.

“I doubt that I’ll-”

“Jeno!” The queen enthuses, a bright smile on her face, “Come! Come! Meet your fiancée!”

You turn around and give him a gentle smile. You know he’s not thrilled about getting married, that fact is known across your social class. All you can do is hope he won’t tear you to shreds the moment you speak. Jeno looks breathless though, not a single word escapes his perfectly pouty pink lips. Taking a few steps forward you stand a meer three feet from him.

“Your Highness,” You curtsy.

Jeno still doesn’t speak. You watch as his bodyguard tries to stifle a smirk from growing on his lips before nudging the prince.

“Um- I- um-” he stutters, “Hi.”

“Are you always this well spoken, your highness?” You chuckle.

“I- uh-” He clears his throat, “Given our circumstances, I think calling me Jeno will suffice.”

You give him a sweet smile, “Well then Jeno, would you like to walk through the gardens with me? We have about two months to get to know each other before planning for our wedding starts.”

“Sure.”

Goddamn it Jeno speak like a normal human. She’s just a dutchess you need to marry. Breathe and chill the fuck out.

“Johnny, give us a bit of space, okay? I don’t want to upset the soon-to-be crowned princess.”

His bodyguard, who you now know to be Johnny, nods and tries to stifle a smirk again. Jeno lets out a small sigh and offers his arm to you. You watch as he shivers slightly at your touch. The look on his face says it all; maybe this law wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris

#jeno fluff #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno fanfic #jeno x reader

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 1 year ago

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You're waiting for a train...(5)

A Lesson in Planning

Robert Fischer x reader

description - the logistics of the dream begin to come together and get finalised by the group. Y/n's heart yearns for Robert more but she feels absent from those around her.

warnings - non-con touching (because she is not awake! UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE DON'T WANT TEA!), mentions of surgery, mentions of murder.

word count - 2.2k

a/n - Boy you guys are gonna hate Arthur here! this is an important filler chapter for the plot but the real juicy stuff is still to come!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer’s conscious mind. When we get a layer deeper his own projection of Browning should-should feed that back to him.” Eames orated to our group as we sat concepting the plan for the mission.

“So he gives himself the idea?” Arthur questioned.

“Precisely.” Eames continued. “That’s the only way it’ll stick. It has to seem self-generated.”

“Eames.” Arthur leant back in his chair and looked to me and I nodded in agreement. “I am impressed.”

Eames chuckled. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.” I laughed at Eames’ quip, but felt I should cover my face to not embarrass Arthur further.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat in the workspace with Ariadne as she worked on her totem.

She’d decided upon a chess piece with a partly hollowed out centre that would always fall a specific way. We’d actually had the idea together when we’d been walking in the park and had come across a group of old men who’d formed a chess club. When Ariadne had picked up the queen, it had felt right in her hand.

I glanced to my watch and commented on the lateness of the time but hadn’t noticed Ariadne had actually left our desk. I must have zoned out. That had been happening a lot recently. My mind went to Robert. It wasn’t always thinking back on our interaction, most of the time it was just imagining him beside me. Living in the moment with fantasies of him living it with me.

I perked up when Dad and Ariadne walked back towards me, Ariadne gestured for me to show my Dad the mazes but I hesitated.

“Each level relates to the part of the subjects subconscious that we are trying to access.” Dad walked past our designs, assessing the skill and intricacy. Ariadne and I loomed over her paper built mazes. “So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital so Fischer will bring his father, -- um you know, actually, I have a question about this layout.” Dad immediately retreated as if the sight burned his eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t – Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” I winced at Dad’s harsh tone.

“Dad, she just wanted some help.” I looked up at him.

“Just – “ He pointed at me in a fierce tone but doubted his words. His tone smoothed out. “Just no specifics.”

“Why is that important?” She questioned, amid our staring contest.

“In case one of us brings our projections in. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Dad feebly explained.

“You mean in case you bring Mom in?” I spat at him. The room went quiet, the tension was thick. “You can’t keep her out, can you? Right. If you know the maze then she knows it. That’s why you can’t build anymore.” I stalked towards him amidst my lecture.

“Cobb is this getting worse?” I appreciated Ariadne’s concern. She had been whisked in to this operation only to find out the leader’s brain was more fucked up than most. Who wants to share dreams with that. “Because the others need to know if it is?”

“Who said it’s getting worse!” He abruptly ended so we knew the conversation was done. There was a lull. “I need to get her home.” He pointed at me. “That’s all I care about right now. Is her.” He stood up and embraced me. My guilt weighed me down. He’d only ever thought of me, and my thoughts were filled with someone else. How selfish could I be.

“Why can’t you go home?” Ariadne fiercely inquired.

“Because they think I killed her.” Cobb said into my hair whilst we stayed hugging. I squeezed tighter at that answer. Ariadne stayed quiet as Cobb left my arms to walk away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not asking whether I did.” He smiled appreciatively.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I will split up my father’s empire.” The word emblazoned on our whiteboard. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.” Dad addressed us.

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur questioned.

“That’s what were here to figure out. Now, Robert’s relationship with his father is stressed to say the least.”

“Well, can we run with that?” Eames perked up. “We could suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No.” I commented. “Positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We yearn for reconciliation, catharsis. His bond with his dad is broken beyond repair. Maybe if we’re gonna be in there anyway, we could do him a little good.” When I trailed off softly, I felt all eyes on me, confused. I especially felt the hot gaze of my father.

“We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Dad agreed whilst eyeing me suspiciously.

“All right, let’s try this.” Eames jumped to my rescue. “My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur argued. “We’re gonna need to do a little better than might.” Eames turned towards him with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur.” He said sarcastically.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

“Specificity?”

“Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.”

Ariadne had already prepped each of the dreamers with the layout of the maze. I was truly impressed, and I spent every minute telling her that. It was so great to have a girl on the team. I often felt I was drowning in testosterone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We had entered Yusuf’s dream which would act as the first layer. Ariadne had created a metropolitan city with towering skyscrapers. It was perfect. Complex and confusing if you were not familiar yet still had a sense of believability.

“On the top level,” Eames narrated to us all, as we stood in the direct centre of the road. “We open up his relationship with his father, and say ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps.”

I walked around in awe of the world around me. I’d been in many dreams and had created a few for myself, but nothing like this. I bumped Ariadne’s shoulder and whispered.

“This is seriously amazing.”

“you’ve told me that like 5 times, y/n.”

“Oh sorry—”

“No, it’s nice.” She threw her arm around me so we ended in a half way hug. I suddenly remembered the boys were talking.

“Then the next level down, we feed him ‘I will create something for myself’. Then by the time we bring out the big guns – “

“My father doesn’t want me to be him.” I finished. After speaking those fateful words I chanced a glance at my own father’s eyes. But I looked away in shame, missing his own longing gaze.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Three layers down the dreams are gonna collapse.” Arthur admitted. “Even with the slightest disturbance.”

“Sedation.” Yusuf proudly stated. “For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we’ll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers whilst actually accelerating brain function.”

“In other words, it gives us more time on each level.” Dad explained for the ones who struggled to understand Yusuf’s chemistry.

“Brain function in the dream will be about 20 times normal. When you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded, it’s 3 dreams – that’s 10 hours times –”

“I’m sorry maths was never my strong subject.” I chuckled at Eames’ confusion. “How much time is that?”

I decided to fill him in.

“It’s a week, the first level down, 6 months the second level down –”

“Its 10 years, the third level.” Ariadne said in a gasp. I nodded sadly towards her. “Who would want to be stuck in a dream for 10 years?”

“Depends on the dream.” Ariadne and I looked unamused towards Yusuf’s attempt at humour.

“So, once we’ve made the plant how do we get out? I’m hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head.” Arthur commented whilst swinging on his chair.

“A kick.”

“What’s a kick?”

“This Ariadne,” Eames gently tapped Arthur’s chair so he panicked and fell forward. “Is a kick.” He smiled innocently towards Arthurs unimpressed face. I giggled watching their little bromance.

“It’s that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake.”

“Will we even feel a kick with that level of sedation?” I questioned.

“I’ve customised the sedative to leave inner function unimpaired.” I gave a grateful nod. Yusuf was truly a gift to this mission. “Let me demonstrate.”

“Arthur.” “Arthur!” Eames and I said in sync.

Arthur reluctantly rises and sits on the chair Yusuf gestures to. Yusuf puts him into a dream.

“You see the sleeper still feels the falling.” Yusuf tips Arthur and he jolts awake just in time to watch his body hit the ground. Eames and I burst out laughing. I wink at Eames as we both get the same idea.

“But Yusuf.” I begin. “He just fell sideways. I think it needs to be demonstrated that it works falling at ALL angles.” Eames and I could barely hold in our laughter as my dad shook his head in disapproval. Arthur was put under 4 more times and shoved off the chair each time. God this was too good. After the final time, he threw his hands up when Yusuf went in for one more IV. He abruptly stood up and walked past me. He slowed down when he reached my shoulder.

“Don’t be so childish.” My smile broke.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“He hasn’t got any surgery scheduled, there’s no dental, nothing.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that they’d put him under for anyway.”

We were coming up with the final stage. And the most important element. Time.

“We need a good 10 hours.” My dad offered up the situation to the room.

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Saito had very much taken up the role of the silent money. Quiet, observing. Merely here to protect his investment. When dad had told me he wanted to go under with us I wasn’t shocked. Inception is hardly a mission which has a physical outcome a buyer can hold. The only way to get proof is to be there with us. I did worry about safety. He was just another parasite the projections could flock to; this put us all at risk. And I had a feeling this sedation meant a simple kill shot wouldn’t suffice.

“One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.”

“He must be flying private then?” Dad questioned.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” I smirked at this.

“It would have to be a 747.” Arthur jumped in.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because on a 747, the pilot is up top,” I didn’t miss how Arthur directed the answer towards my dad. “and the first class cabin is on the nose, so no one would walkthrough but you’d have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendant.”

“I bought the airline.” We all flocked our gaze to Saito. “It seemed neater.” Ah of course! Why didn’t we think of that?

“Well then.” We had our stage. “Ariadne?” Dad stopped us as we went to leave. “Terrific work by the way.” I smiled her way but she missed it, taken up in a conversation with Arthur.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My fingers fidgeted on the lock of the case. Itching to try again. Nothing around me was satisfying, I needed some release. The lock flicked up and I hurriedly unpacked the IV. I inserted it and let it do it’s magic. My eyes drooped, my heart slowed yet my excitement bubbled up. My head flopped onto the rough fabric of the deck chair. As my mind floated me away, a presence loomed in my peripheral.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I’d stayed behind late, hoping to have a word with y/n. She hadn’t seemed herself recently and I worried for the state of her mind when we begin this task.

I made my way to the door, believing I’d missed her. I noticed one of the deck chairs hadn’t been put away so I went to tidy up. I saw five painted nails loosen their grip on the edge of the chair and collapse to the side. There was an IV exiting the vein, I tracked it back towards the silver case.

I ambled my way towards her sleeping frame. So peaceful, yet so much life danced behind her closed eyes. I found myself stroking her soft cheeks. She was so perfect. My thumb caressed the contours of her face and it began to droop lower, until it met the curve of her lips. What was I doing?

I jumped back as if her skin had burnt me. Suddenly I was possessed by a new found drive. I ripped one of the other IV’s out of the case and dragged a chair up to the table. I inserted the tube and let the sedative consume my body.

My mind crumbled down and was rebuilt into her subconscious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Oh boyyyyy Arthur has gone into her subconscious! What's he gonna find? What's she hiding??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

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littleseasiren · 2 years ago

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Fight for me - Part 2

Summary: After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Language

Words: ~ 2700

Series Masterlist

When you enter the compound the following morning, you giggle as you see 6 small children running around playing with the Avengers. Catching Natasha's eyes, she stops playing with them and joins you.

"Hi Natasha, sorry for stopping by so unexpectedly."

"No problem, honey. Nice of you to come visit again. Sorry about the munchkins, they're a group from Queens who came to meet us." You both smile at a little girl as she looks up at you and then runs away. "We should probably swap phone numbers - that way you can just call me, and I can bring you straight up."

"I would love that, but I don't really have a cell phone anymore. I didn't want my... ex to find me with it. So, no cell for me..." You stare at the ground in front of you, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories. Tell you what, I'll talk to the security guys and get you a permanent pass. That way, you can just come up, no questions asked."

"You're sweet, Nat, but I'm already bothering you guys too much. I just came to bring some cookies to say thank you for all that you Avengers do."

"You could never be a bother - don't even think that. We're friends, right? And the guys never complain when you're here. At least they pretend to be gentlemen when you're present. Add to that bribing with sweets, and that makes you our favourite person!" Nat slowly takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, and you softly squeeze back. "When Wanda comes back from her mission, we'll all have a girls' night, ok? We can throw the boys out of the living room, watch romantic comedies all evening and binge-eat whatever we want!" Her smile is so big you can't help but join in.

"That sounds amazing! Sign me up for a girl's night asap!" You two chuckle. You see Bucky leaning against a wall, watching everything from the far corner of the room. "Why does it look like Bucky is in a time-out?" You can't help but ask.

Natasha takes a deep breath before answering. "Mrs. Berg over there," she points to the adult female talking to Steve and Bruce, "has not so subtly let it be known that she doesn't approve of Bucky interacting with the children. Steve almost kicked her out since Bucky is an Avenger, too. At first, Bucky wanted to simply leave, but he eventually agreed to watch from the sidelines." Her brows pull together in concern. "You know how he is..."

"Yeah, I know, he-" You start to say but stop as you see the smallest girl in the group break away from the others and run to Bucky, wrapping her chubby arms around his shin. A look of utter confusion fills his face as he looks down at the little girl a second later. She pulls on his pant leg before taking a step back and signing something to him.

All the adults in the room become silent as they turn to watch the interaction. "I should probably go tell him what she's saying..." Clint starts to walk towards Bucky before he halts, watching as Bucky sinks down into a crouch. Gasps fill the room as Bucky signs back to the little girl. She shrieks in amazement, her little hands flying around as she signs again. The most beautiful smile forms on Bucky's face as the two of them interact together.

"Um, Steve... are you aware that Bucky knows ASL?" Sam asks Steve softly.

"No idea, Sam." Steve watches his best friend - Hydra's most feared assassin - tickle the squealing girl, her pink hearing aid disappearing underneath her hair as she swings around and runs to Mrs. Berg then runs back to Bucky. The pink butterflies on her shoes bouncing with every step.

When she runs back to the group leader, Mrs. Berg grabs her and pulls her close, stopping her from running to Bucky again. She signs at the woman and gestures to Bucky, but the scowl on the older woman's face is enough to keep her still but doesn't stop tears from forming in the little girl's eyes.

The smile disappears from Bucky's face instantly as he stands up to his full height, eyes becoming hard once again.

"I asked you to avoid interacting with the children, didn't I? See what you did - you made her cry." Her words are harsh as she grabs the other children closer to her, her eyes full of disdain falling on Bucky.

Sam and Natasha start to defend Bucky instantly before Steve's loud voice fills the room. "No, ma’am. You brought the children here to meet the Avengers, and Bucky is one of us. He graciously agreed to observe out of respect for your wishes, but the little girl here? She went to him, he didn't instigate anything. And it seemed like they got on great before you pulled her back. That's why she started crying - you're keeping her from her new friend."

"You can't expect me to allow the Winter Soldier to play with the kids! He's murdered hundreds of people!" You watch as Bucky flinches, her angry words bringing back memories you know he wants to forget.

"Listen here, lady, you can just -" Sam starts before Bucky interrupts him.

"It's fine, Sam." He looks at Steve before he continues, "Thanks for trying, Steve, but I'll get out of the way. Don't let this ruin the children's favourite day." Bucky ducks down and signs to the little girl in farewell, whatever he says, making her stop crying and smile once again. His eyes meet yours shyly as he turns around and starts walking away.

"Bucky, wait!" You call after him as you shuffle around the room to meet his waiting form. "Don't let that witch get you down - that was the cutest thing I've ever seen." You speak loudly, making sure Mrs. Berg can hear you. "I brought some cookies. You guys got any coffee around here?"

He glances back at you, the corner of his mouth moving up in an almost smile. "Sure, doll, we got coffee," he says as he walks down the corridor, you following behind him safely.

"Leave some cookies for me!" Sam shouts as the children start to giggle once again.

Bucky leads you to the kitchen, pointing at the far side of the breakfast nook for you to have a seat before filling the kettle with water and switching it on. "You're sweet, Y/N, but you don't have to babysit me. I'm used to people not wanting me around." He leans against the nook and rolls a coaster under his hand, eyes not meeting yours.

"She's an idiot, Bucky. Anyone could see that little girl pretty much thinks the world revolves around you. And you spent, what... like 2 minutes with her? I barely know you, and I like you as a friend already."

The coaster stills in Bucky's hand, the silence unexpected. His eyes shoot up, staring at you with his mouth slightly parted. Seconds before his staring becomes uncomfortable, a whistle sounds from the kettle. His lips curl up into a small smile as he stands and grabs two mugs from the top shelf. "Do you want some coffee or tea?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks." You stare at his broad back as he turns around and makes the coffee. What was that all about? Was that smile because you said you liked him as a friend? You pull out your container full of sugar cookies and place it in front of his coffee cup as he takes a seat opposite you, his back to the open door. Yet again, he has considered your needs and placed your comfort before his own. With your seat facing the door, you have a clear view of anyone who might enter the kitchen. You watch as Bucky grasps his mug with gloved hands. "Um, I don't mean to pry, but is everything ok?" He looks at you curiously before you continue. "Whenever I see you, you're wearing gloves..."

Bucky glances down at his gloved hands, then back to you, unconsciously biting his lower lip. "I-um. Guess you don't know..." Slowly, he starts to pull the gloved fingers off his left hand. "When Hydra -" Voices sound from the hallway before Sam comes rushing in, stilling Bucky’s movement.

"Are there still cookies? Please tell me Barnes didn't eat all of it!" He runs to the table and sighs in relief before grabbing two cookies and stuffing them into his mouth.

"Buck, we finally got the group out, so it's safe to leave the kitchen," Steve says as he pats Bucky's shoulder. The rest of the team enters the kitchen as Natasha takes a seat next to you. "I wasn't aware you knew ASL?" Steve asks his oldest friend.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Steve. My dossier doesn't have everything in it, punk."

"Where did you pick it up?" Clint asks from the kitchen, sitting on the countertop.

"I, uh, had a mission with Hydra. It was an infiltrate and..." He stops talking, brows furrowed as his eyes become dark with sorrow. His chair scrapes the floor as he stands up suddenly, making you gasp softly. "Uh, sorry. I got to go." He says as he all but runs out of the kitchen.

"Shit, sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have asked," Clint says as he glances at Steve.

"It's alright, Clint." He smiles at you, "Nice to see you again, Y/N," before he disappears from the kitchen.

For the next two days, your thoughts constantly drift back to Bucky. His size intimidated you, but you appreciated how aware he was around you. He had pulled Sam back before you had even noticed Sam had wanted to hug you, and that day in the kitchen, he made sure you could see if anyone entered the room.

For such a considerate man, he kept seeing himself as a bad guy. Was he really, or did he just think that? You knew he was somehow forced to hurt people, that he didn't remember everything the past 70 years, but that was all you knew. Josh hadn't allowed you to watch TV, just a few movies he wanted to watch. When you had finally gotten away from him, you were moving from shelter to shelter until you ended up at the Battered Woman's shelter, where you are now. So there wasn't really any time to just watch TV or read about him.

That evening, you find yourself outside the Tower again, early for the first self-defence class. The guards assure you that you can go up, even if it is too early. When you enter the gym, Bucky spots you immediately and waves quickly. You see him and Natasha moving about on the mats, talking animatedly.

"You sure this is better for them than punching?" Natasha curls her fingers and shoves her palm up toward Bucky's nose.

"Yeah, I do. Punching requires coordination and using your body weight as balance. The ladies will most likely hurt themselves more than their attacker. With this, the palm takes a lot of the impact, and the upward move gives the force behind it. Even if they just stand normally, they should still do some damage to the attacker." You slowly walk closer as Bucky gestures for you to join them with gloved hands.

"Hi, Y/N," Natasha says as she gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "Would you mind trying a move and see if you feel comfortable?"

"Um, yeah, sure..." you say as you move closer. Bucky nods at Natasha as he steps to the side, giving you space but staying in your line of sight.

"Ok, I just want to see if you're comfortable with a move." She raises her hand, "I need you to curl your fingers at the first two knuckles, not making a fist. See?" you nod as you copy her move. "Ok, now pretend you want to hurt someone in front of you. Bring your wrist close to your chest before you quickly strike, hitting your opponent with the fleshy bottom of your palm, keeping your wrists straight." She demonstrates before you copy her once again, striking quickly into the air. "How does that feel?"

You do the move a second time before you answer, "It feels good. Like I could do a lot of damage." You smirk at her as you meet Bucky's smiling eyes.

"Ok, it's settled then," Natasha says as she looks up at Bucky. "Guess you were right, soldier." Bucky merely nods in return as he picks up his bag.

A part of you doesn't want him to leave so quickly. "Were the cookies ok?" You ask them both, eyes focusing on Bucky.

"They were amazing!" Natasha exclaims.

"They were delicious, doll. Thanks for the treat," Bucky adds while Natasha moves to the centre of the room to speak to a lady.

Sam jogs up close to Bucky. "Did I hear her say cookies? You got any more for us, Y/N? We all had a bite, and then suddenly they were all gone, poof!"

"I'm glad you guys enjoyed them," you giggle as you add, "I'll probably make something new this evening. I'll bring them tomorrow night."

"No pressure doll. Sam's just being an idiot. You don't have to make us anything..." Bucky adds as he elbows Sam softly before grabbing his bottled water and taking a sip.

"I enjoy baking, so it's no problem. I was actually wondering, between you and Steve, who's bigger?"

Bucky chokes on his water as Sam laughingly says, "Bucky got the bigger package if that's what you're asking."

"Shut up, Sam," Bucky growls as he closes his water before he attempts to start talking. "Doll-"

"Oh, hell," your cheeks burn as your heart rate skyrockets from humiliation. "I really didn't plan that out in my head. I just meant, between Bucky and Steve, if I have extra cookies or sweets, who should get more? Who has the bigger energy requirement?" You look at your shoes as you try to slow your racing heart before slowly looking up.

"Bucky's the biggest, meanest one here. He's the biggest in all the ways," Sam keeps laughing.

"Shut up, Sam!" Bucky elbows him, making Sam flinch. "I swear to God..."

"What, I'm helping!" Sam chuckles as he steps away from Bucky, heading to the gym door.

"I'll help you into an early grave," Bucky says to the departing figure before he meets your eyes. His cheeks are tinted pink as he runs a hand through his long hair. "Doll-"

"Barnes, are you staying for the class?" Natasha interrupts whatever he was going to say. "We're starting in three minutes." You look around and see most of the ladies from the shelter have arrived.

"Wish I could, Red," Bucky replies to Natasha before he smiles at you. "I should get going before Martha gets here. Have fun, Y/N," he states before turning around and exiting the gym.

The self-defence class is surprisingly both fun and very informative. Natasha is a great teacher, showing the group various basic moves such as palm strikes, and knees to the groin; as well as tips to distract an attacker. At the end of the class, you are tired but happy to have exercised and learned new moves.

Back at the shelter, you quickly shower and have dinner before you head to the kitchen and start making some peanut butter clusters. You're thankful that Martha allows you to bake in the kitchen at night.

You can't help smiling, thinking back on how flustered Bucky got with the conversation today. In all defence, you were a bit embarrassed as well, but it didn't stop your mind from thinking about all that was said. Just how big is Bucky...?

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky barns x reader #bucky x y/n #the avengers #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky angst

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