#let it be known that while cerise is a bit intense

[mmmatchasims]

Cerise: I told you at the start I just wanted something casual over the summer, and then you made me catch feelings for your dumb ass! And now you’re telling me you changed your mind, just like that?

Hibiscus: I’m sorry, Ceri-

[sylvie-writes]

Jersey #18

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (ft. Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Wanda) 

request: I know your requests are closed but I had an idea for a Steve Rogers au where he is in high school and his best friends bucky and Sam are trying to set him up with their girlfriends friend? It would be post serum Steve but like he never had the serum (like puberty was just very kind to him, not that he isn’t everything and more without the serum, just wouldn’t make sense for him to be a football star as pre serum Steve ya know?) and reader is a cheerleader but is also shy. Anywho the day of the homecoming game cheerleaders have to wear a football boys jersey and Nat wears Buckys because they’re obvi in love, Wanda wears Sams, and reader wears Steve’s and when they win the game she runs onto the field and hugs Steve and tells him she’s proud of him and they go to the dance together and they end up dancing to the song Rumor by Lee Brice? And end up admitting they have feeling for each other? ❤️❤️😭 if you could make this happen I would be ECSTATIC

a/n: Thank you for being patient with me. It took me longer to write this because I wanted it to be good. I’m trying to get my shit together at the moment lol. Hopefully you enjoy this because I loved the idea! 

*I chose the number eighteen because Steve was born 1918 and I didn’t know of any other numbers that corresponded with him haha!

A weight had been lifted off your shoulders once the bell rang, freeing you and your classmates from your last bell class. All week long you had tried to rush the hours, longingly waiting for Friday to arrive as that was the day of the homecoming game. The minute the school bell rang, you threw your backpack on one shoulder, practically running out with your textbooks in hand.

As you lightly jogged down the hallway, you could spot Natasha’s cerise locks of hair vividly flying around as she animatedly spoke with Wanda, the two of them most likely awaiting your presence.

The walk from your last class to the lockers was like trekking from Timbuktu and back. Eventually, the familiar tone of Wanda sassing Natasha filled your ears and you giggled, hearing her tell the redhead as it is.

“Now now, ladies.”

You slowly twisted your dial lock, putting in the combination and then opening the creaky metal door to set down your textbooks. Nat leaned up against the locked to your right, Wanda to your left.

“For once, we weren’t actually arguing, (y/n/n)! We were talking about the homecoming game.”

Turning from your locker to face the woman, you raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh really?”

“Yeah, we were thinking about wearing the boys’ jerseys for tonight’s game.”

You smiled, happy for them both, not fully understanding their words. Continuing to listen, you faced your locker once more, going to round up the things for this weekend. In your hand, you held your planner, looking over all of the upcoming assignments and strategically picking which ones to accomplish this weekend.

A sound of feet shuffling sounded louder and louder in the hallway, getting closer to you and the girls. You heard the sounds stop, and a voice replaced the noise.

“Hey babydoll, we got the things you asked for.”

Curious, you turned to your right to see Bucky with his arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist as his lips were glued to behind her ear. Your friend tried to function somewhat normally as her boyfriend continued to shower her in affection.

“This is for you.”

Turning once more, you now saw Sam handing Wanda a jersey as she sheepishly smiled, listening to the man drop some cheesy pick up lines. You looked to your left and right, smiling at your friends' happiness. Suddenly you felt a hand caressing your shoulder, causing you to turn towards the one direction you hadn’t. Behind.

The tall and sweet blonde man you had dreamed about since middle school kindly smiled at you, a jersey in his large hands. Your eyes went wide as you realized the girls had managed to rope you into this too.

“Hi to you too, (y/n).”

Steve chuckled and you then registered that he must’ve seen your startled expression. Feeling a bit awkward, you laughed with the man, shaking off the embarrassment.

“Hi Steve, is that for me I assume?”

The tables had now turned and Steve had been staring at you for a few seconds so far, a bright smile on his face, words struggling to leave his mouth. You giggled at his sweet little mistake.

“Oh! Uh yes!”

His face shuffled through three shades of vermilion, his cheeks most likely toasty as his blushed ears said so. Steve’s lips contorted into that million dollar smile, pearly whites twinkling at you. Unfolding the jersey, Steve brought the shoulders of the jersey to your own, letting the shirt drape over your chest. “Looks great, babe!”

You bit your bottom lip at his playfulness, lightly slapping his chest.

“Oh hush, Rogers.”

The two of you were in your own little world, as your friends watched upon your interaction, unbeknownst to you both.

“I hate to break this up, but we have to get to practice, punk. Gotta be in tip top shape, ya know?”

Bucky quickly kissed Nat goodbye, Sam doing the same with Wanda, leaving you and Steve to awkwardly wave at each other. Once the boys had left, your two best friends hounded you like detectives, not allowing you to leave until you answered each and every question. It was no secret that you harbored feelings for Steve, and vice versa, yet both of you were too petrified to make the first move. Honestly, you felt somewhat insecure, as the girls who wanted to date Steve made up a queue line longer than the Great Wall of China. There were so many options, and he chose you? Apparently it made sense to everyone else except for yourself.

‘Lovey-dovey’ feelings aside, Steve was a great guy, who you considered one of your close friends. Since middle school, you had known Nat, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, and Steve. You six had always been close, and sports brought you all even closer. First, Bucky and Nat got together, then Sam and Wanda, now the four have spent the past year trying to set you and Steve up, which you do kind of enjoy, but of course you don’t let them know that.

When you had finally satiated Wanda and Nat’s dying need to know every detail of your five minute interaction with Steve, you three went to go find the rest of the team and work on some cheers. Time ticked on and soon four hours became three...two...one.

With an hour until the game began, Natasha, who was cheer captain, frantically ran around, checking up on the team members as you all added finishing touches to your makeup and hair. You sat in front of the vanity, carefully watching Nat getting chastised by Wanda. Her hands hastily flew as she talked, probably scolding Natasha for worrying about everyone else and not even being ready herself. Time was ticking away, so you and Wanda helped the woman get ready. When finished the three of you looked into the mirror to see your reflections smiling back, large jerseys half-tucked into your cheer skorts.

Needless to say, the first three quarters of the game were intense leaving not only you, but the audience on edge. A few offenses left you grimacing, but the boys picked themselves up and kept going. For a majority of the game, you and the girls stayed on the sidelines, expertly performing cheers that were prepared by Natasha. At halftime, you all came onto the field and executed more advanced tricks and such.

Now here you all were, last quarter of the game. So far, your school only needed one more winning play to win the game and keep the team’s winning streak. You gripped your pom poms tightly as you watched Steve briskly run down the field, football tucked in his arm, making your heart race increase a bit. It was then that you realized that you have really cared for Steve as you were constantly worrying about him out on the field.

Too busy daydreaming, you hadn’t even noticed that the game had ended until the crowd started cheering. Immediately, you saw the guys standing in the field waving at the sea of screaming people who excitedly waved their foam fingers and signs. Football was a huge thing in your town, especially with your high school having been the reigning champs.

You looked to your side to notice Natasha and Wanda missing and now running towards the guys. With confidence, you dropped your pom poms and ran towards them all. Steve caught sight of you and with a bright smile, held out his arms. Catching your figure, he laughed and spun you around.

Steve set you down, but not letting go and still in fact holding you close to him. He continued to smile down on you while you gazed up at him.

“Congratulations, Cap.”

You teasingly called the man by his nickname, gently running your fingers through his sweaty helmet hair as a few strands had fallen forward.

Cheeky grin, the man replied, “Well thank you. Couldn’t have done it without you and your girls.”

You gave the man a tight hug and he chuckled.

“Hey, I was thinking that maybe if you were free, would you like to go with me to homecoming dance tomorrow?”

He looked ready to apologize for what he thought was being forward when you happily smiled at him.

“I’d be honored. See you at seven, Steve Rogers.” Giving the man a quick kiss on the cheek, you ran back across the field with the girls who were leaving.

Exactly seven o’clock on the dot you heard a loud knock on the front door. Running down the stairs, sparkly stiletto heels in hand. Last night when you had told Nat and Wanda that Steve asked you to homecoming, they practically threw you into the car and drove to the mall as if all of the dresses might disappear overnight. The three of you decided on a red high low dress, one of Steve’s favorite colors which you had learned from Bucky. Next, Wanda picked out said stilettos and you were ready for homecoming dance. That night you were so excited that you could barely sleep, and now the time had finally come.

Containing your excited squeals, you threw open the door to see Steve with his jaw dropped as he shamelessly eyed you over.

“(y/n), you look absolutely stunning. Not that you don’t always but-”

Before the man could stumble over his words anymore, you placed a soft finger against his lips, shushing him. Steve hurriedly nodded and mumbled out a “yes ma'am,” then holding out an arm for you to link onto.

Time passed quicker than before as you and Steve talked a mile a minute in the car. Before you knew it, you and Steve had arrived at the venue and you could already see Nat and Bucky along with Wanda and Sam as they all looked absolutely picture perfect.

Once Steve helped you out of the car, he again offered an arm that you gladly took. Snuggling into his side a bit, you felt so comfortable with Steve and it was honestly the best feeling in the world.

The six of you spent some time tasting the fancy horderves and of course used the photo props provided. It was something that would make an amazing memory for the future.

Eventually, the lights started to go dim and some soft notes came through the speakers. Nat and Bucky had already left for the dance floor with Sam and Wanda trailing behind.

Steve jokingly wiggled his raised eyebrow, holding a hand out for you. “Madam?”

Placing your much smaller hand in his, the man pulled you close and onto the dance floor.

There's a rumor going 'round, ha, about me and you Stirring up our little town the last week or two Oh, tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling I feel it and you feel it too

Steve’s hand supported your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, relishing in this first dance with the man. You laid your head on his shoulder, and with a smile and closed eyes, followed his slow swaying.

The song continued to echo in the room and it neared to an end quicker than you had imagined.

There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round What d'you say we make it Make it true What d'you say we make it true, yeah?

Just as the song came to the final verse, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest. He placed a delicate kiss on the top of your head prompting you to look up at him. With your eyes, the two of you silently asked for permission from the other. Slowly, you leaned into Steve’s lips as he pushed back gently. Both you and Steve were in your own little blissful world, ignoring your friends’ whistling and clapping. You heard a bit of their commotion and giggled against Steve’s lips. His lips turned into a smile and the two of you kissed once more, this time smiling like lovesick idiots.

10 years later

You were sitting on the arm of the sofa, Steve’s broad arm safely wrapped around your waist. Looking across, you smiled while listening to Sam and Wanda tell their own rendition of homecoming night. As they finished, you looked down to the floor where Nat and Bucky were sitting, then disputing your other friends’ version and telling their own. Steve chuckled and waved a hand, “You guys did not set (y/n) and I up,” your husband rolled his eyes in faux annoyance.

Steve then looked up to you and tenderly squeezed your side, “We did that all on our own. Right, honey?”

You nodded and placed a peck on his lips. Suddenly a high pitched squeal sounded and you looked back down to the floor seeing your daughter pointing to the picture of you and Steve kissing on the dance floor.

Tonight was the anniversary of your homecoming and you and Steve thought it would be fun to have your friends over to remember the night. Over the years, Nat and Bucky, and Wanda and Sam have stayed in touch, and quite frankly, they have become your family. Your daughter was currently flipping through the album from your homecoming night. Peering over her shoulder were two kids, Wanda and Sam’s son, and Bucky and Nat’s daughter. The three of them giggled and babbled amongst themselves. Bucky scooted closer to the kids, telling them about each picture they pointed to. You blissfully sighed, a small smile on your lips as you looked over your family. Steve noticed your loving gaze and ran his thumb along your side.

“We did it, babe.”

Taking his face in your hand, you kissed his forehead.

“We really did.”

a/n: I apologize for any mistakes, I may have been too lazy to proofread heh heh...

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94​ @calirindo​ @aubreeskailynn​ @lady-elena-adeline​

If I’ve messed up the taglist somehow, let me know! 

[mendaxiety]

“You’re so sensitive, I wonder what would happen if I were to put a couple of icecubes inside of you..” (Top! Logan experimenting on a (willing or unwilling) experiment Roman? (In all honestly I would prefer unwilling, but if that makes you uncomfortable I don't mind!!

Prompts || NOT accepting! || N//S//F//W

Warnings: Contains noncon and ice/sensory play!

“The red ropes suit you splendidly,” Logan murmurs, grazing his fingertips up the sculpted planes of Roman’s chest, the fluttering pulse of his throat, and along his flushed face. “It truly brings out the cerise suffusing your cheeks.” Logan watches Roman squirm for a moment, though a quick tweak of the bound man’s nipple has him nice and still again, sprawled out across Logan’s bed. Roman’s skin looks exquisite against the dark navy of Logan’s quilt; Roman is all muscle and bronze skin, truly a sight to behold. “Now, where were we…” Logan muses, this time tracing his fingertips down, cool touch skimming Roman’s belly and down along one hip. 

Roman whines a muffled complaint into his gag, drool having already gathered in a puddle near his cheek. Logan hadn’t gagged him at first, but those little protests and threats did grow tedious before long. The other man even slung out a few insults in Spanish, and Logan wasn’t quite up to the offensive parts of his study in the language. “Hush, Roman. I won’t hurt you, I already promised, but if you keep misbehaving, accidents are known to happen.” Logan swats an open palm against the side of Roman’s thigh, making the man flinch. Roman doesn’t really even remember coming up to Logan’s room, he doesn’t much remember lying down, being tied…Roman can’t remember much at all right now. 

He feels those dangerous, cool fingertips traveling, dangerously close to between thighs that are spread far apart and bent at the knees. Roman keens in protest, dark eyes squeezing shut. His skin feels like it’s searing, every touch is scintillating, dizzying, almost too much! It makes him want to try yanking away again, but Logan doesn’t take kindly to that. The ropes are tied tight around Roman’s whole frame, keeping his arms tied behind him, an intricate knot from elbow to wrist, where the rope leads up Roman’s back and around his throat. The rope continues, an angry crimson snake, down Roman’s chest, wrapping back and around, shaping a diamond around his navel before it reaches his legs, where it keeps his knees drawn up high and spread far. 

“Look at you,” Logan sighs, almost fondly, as he reaches Roman’s cock. He runs a finger along the length from base to tip, watching it twitch; Logan knows Roman can’t help it, he can’t help his body’s reaction, but that is the point of this experiment. How far can Logan push an unwilling body? Roman jolts, beads of pre-cum gathering at the tip of his cock from such a simple touch. Roman is always so hot, so viciously tempered and never sitting still…it’s a treat to get him this way, so well-behaved. Perhaps it’s time to cool him off a little, as well? 

Logan disappears from sight for a moment, and Roman dares to exhale a relieved sigh, but it’s short-lived. “You’re so sensitive, I wonder what would happen if I were to put a couple of ice cubes inside of you,” Logan says from somewhere off to the side, making Roman stiffen, dread pooling in his gut. He starts to shake his head, an angry shout locked behind the ball in his mouth, but Roman knows it won’t work, nothing’s worked. Without warning, the brightness in the room goes black, and Roman blinks, startled by the shift, before he even notices the fabric brushing his cheeks. 

“There we are,” Logan says, tying the blindfold and leaving Roman to focus on listening, something he’s never been too good with. Logan doubts that his roommate is used to being so vulnerable, unable to see and prepare for what’s coming, and unable to shout and order and control everything. Roman is so pristine all the time, so confident, so steady…it’s so very worthwhile to see him fall apart. Roman’s chest heaves for breath as he groans, arching his back in another futile struggle. 

Logan sets a bowl on the table beside the bed, dipping his fingers in to gather a piece of ice. It’s not actually cubed, despite its moniker, but rounded, to ensure no sharp edges of ice bring harm. Logan doesn’t say a word as he rests the ice against Roman’s inner thigh, and he smiles as the man jumps, shouting, head shaking in protest. The ice is frigid, chasing goosebumps across Roman’s skin as he feels it snake up his inner thigh, dangerously close, too close, so close—

Roman screams when the ice touches his cock, and Logan cocks a brow, drinking in the sight of Roman’s pitiful attempt to flail, all while Logan continues to run the ice up Roman’s cock, up to the tip. Roman squeals as the ice drips down, painfully cold and painfully intense, making his cock twitch and throb as Logan trails the ice down the other side. Roman can feel his eyes burning, but he blinks them quickly, squirming restlessly as that ice grazes down his sac. Logan pauses for a moment, studying the size of the ice; it’s not too big, he doesn’t think. About the girth of a finger, and about an inch long. 

Roman is stiff, heart hammering in his ears as he’s forced to wait, wait in dreaded anticipation, until he just wants it over with. Logan has done nothing but elude to every plan all night, teasing and hiding and driving Roman crazy, Roman doesn’t have the energy to want to avoid anymore, he just wants it to finish. The ice drips, drips, drips, as Logan lets it rest, before finally he guides the tip of the cube to Roman’s entrance. Roman jumps, eyes blowing wide behind the blindfold, but before he can even try escaping again, that ice cube is sinking inside. 

Roman shrieks, and though the sound is muffled and drowned out, it’s still so alluring. So, the ice is definitely a bit much for Roman, definitely a breaking point, Logan decides upon watching Roman’s entire frame begin to tremble as the ice cube is pushed all the way inside. Logan feels the heat of Roman’s entrance clamp around his finger as he pushes the cube in deep, allowing Roman to feel it deep inside, and deduces the poor thing is clenching down hard and unable to relax…that’s going to make Roman feel the ice all the more strongly. 

“It’s not that awful,” Logan chides, smiling as Roman quakes. Logan reaches for another cube, this time reaching up and drawing it around one of Roman’s dusky nipples. The young man yelps, back arching, a very pretty display. Logan hums thoughtfully, adjusting his stance when he realizes the tightening in his jeans. This is an experiment first, he won’t take pleasure yet. Tracing the ice in slow circles around Roman’s nipple, Logan notices Roman’s entrance puckering and winking, and he wonders if the ice is melting already. 

Dragging the ice across Roman’s chest to his other nipple, Logan listens to the sharp whine from Roman, his nipples soon pert and so hard they ache, glittering with melting water. Only then does Logan slide the ice down, jumping across rope and leaving a chilling trail down to Roman’s hole again, where Logan sinks the ice inside just like the first. Cold, fresh cold, freezing cold, and Roman feels the blindfold getting wet now. It’s too much to focus on, too much sensation, too much!

Logan picks up a third cube, and this time he doesn’t tease Roman with it, simply reaches down to guide the cube inside, well aware that it’s so cold it probably burns a little. Roman’s trembling inner muscles squeeze around the ice, and as it melts it trickles out of his entrance, a sight Logan chuckles at. “I have to say, you’re doubtlessly my favorite experiment. I wonder how long before the ice melts completely…how many can I fit before the former all melt?” Logan muses, rubbing a finger over Roman’s tender hole and drawing a plaintive whine, no longer so confident and rash now. 

The experiment has only just begun.

[paizleyrayz]

SCORPIO WOMAN: OVERVIEW & PERSONALITY TRAITS

Scorpio is the eighth sign of the zodiac, and the Eighth House is all about sex, death, and the cycle of regeneration. With their penchant for all things spooky and magical, female Scorpios are natural Queens of the Underworld, and thus usually not ones to shy away from the more intense or heavy characteristics of life.

This sign gets a bad rap from most astrologers for being “too much,” overly dark, or even downright evil. This stems more from modern western culture’s inherent discomfort with discomfort with discussing the Pluto-ruled subjects of sex and death (typically not your general everyday dinner-table conversation). Reviled as a Scorpion woman can be, not many can deny her magnetic personality and the aura of mystery, magic, and sensuality that she wears around her like a cloak. This is not a woman who tolerates surface-level interactions easily. She prefers to give her attention to those willing to go deep with her. With a Scorpio’s electric gaze powerfully focused on you, it’s easy to feel like a bug pinned under glass, examined by a curious scientist determined to learn everything there is to know. 

One of the most sensitive signs in the zodiac, Scorpio women feel their emotions intensely, though they may not always express them overtly. A water-ruled sign, Scorpio is symbolized by the submerged depths, like the pure waters flowing through an underground cave. But you may not see the currents or waves rippling through her facial expressions – much of what a Scorpio woman feels, she won’t always express overtly. 

Scorpios rule over the occult sciences, and the true meaning of the word “occult” is “hidden” – hence, the Scorpionic tendency toward secrecy and inscrutability. Only the most determined (and respectful) will be granted permission to explore the secret caverns within the heart of a Scorpio woman.

Scorpio women are universally known as the sex goddesses of the zodiac, renowned for their passion, their strong libidos, and their exceptional prowess as lovers. Sex is extremely important to these women, and sharing a sexual connection with their deeply-bonded lover is a necessity for them to feel completely fulfilled in life. That being said, Scorpios don’t really love to sleep around, nor do they take sex casually. So until they find their soul match, a Scorpio can feel a little adrift without a partner to frolic and share intimacy with. Dating and lackadaisical flirting for fun’s sake or just as something to pass the time rarely appeals to focused, intense Scorpion women. They tend to have consuming romances that take up a lot of their time and emotional energy. Sexless unions or relationships of convenience will never work for this libidinous sign, nor will an excess of flash-in-the-pan one-night stands. In general, a Scorpio woman will hold out until she finds just what she’s looking for in a partner. Once she commits, she tends to mate for life.

With Scorpio’s widely known reputation for powerful jealous streaks, her possessive personality may also be a bit misunderstood. This kind of jealousy doesn’t stem from insecurity – in fact, most Scorpio women are extremely confident (particularly about the strength of their charms). But once this woman stakes her claim on you, she has a hard time letting go. She won’t take easily to relinquishing her mate into another’s arms without a battle.

Ever walk past those basement apartments in the city and wonder about who might dwell down there? It very well might be the lair of the Queen of the Underworld, lounging on a chaise and grinning up at the hustling and bustling feet of passersby with amusement. The word “lair” is a truly fitting way to describe this sign’s home. She makes her living space an insular, private domain where only her closest friends and lovers are invited. Decor-wise, Scorpio babes tend to adore textiles, draperies, and elaborate hanging lamps. Her living room might resemble an exotic bazaar, stuffed with the all the spoils of the souks that she’s visited on her travels. But everything here is arranged tastefully, and nothing is overdone or feels sloppy. Scorpios tend to be fairly tidy and can even tend toward the minimal, which makes their love for gloriously embellished details really pop rather than get lost in the visual shuffle. 

A Scorpio mom is a protective creature, strong and quiet, who usually has a powerful psychic link with her beloved children. She’s the envy of other mothers, as her kids can usually be disciplined with nothing more than an intense look from their Scorpio mama.

Scorpio women work hard and are exceedingly goal-focused. They set their sights on long-term objectives, and work steadily and quietly toward making their dreams realities. They often get pegged as loners in the workplace, and tend to intimidate their co-workers, often without meaning to. Scorpios don’t tend to enjoy being subordinate – they would much rather just be the boss, free to make their own decisions, especially around aesthetics and design.

Scorpio women usually have a very clear idea of how they think things should go, and will only share power or control with other signs whose vision they innately respect. They work well with other signs who are similarly quietly powerful, but generally have no time for bombast or showboating – especially if the person with lots of opinions makes no real effort to back any of their talk up with actual results. Scorpios have a serious reputation for getting inside people’s heads, and due to their love of psychology, can easily manipulate others to get what they want. This isn’t always used for sinister purposes – in fact, Scorpio women can often excel in sales positions, because they will use their intuitive traits to determine what their customers really want and how to make them feel most at ease. But should you ever stand in the way of something a Scorpio truly wants, prepare to get steadily worn down over time – because these women are completely relentless when it comes to achieving their personal missions.

Once they set an intention, they will do whatever it takes to reach that goal, regardless of the desires of others around them. These women do what they say they’re going to do and have a way of making it all look easy – always carrying themselves through even the most difficult and trying workdays with panache and grace.

When shopping for a Scorpio woman, remember always that though her tastes might be a bit unusual or spooky, she won’t appreciate anything tatty or cheap. You might choose for her something truly bizarre, like a beautiful skull or vintage taxidermy – though make sure it’s something she would actually display in her home. Framed butterflies or moths make a perfect gift for this sign that rules over the cycles of death and rebirth, transformation, and the metamorphosis of the soul, which butterflies symbolize. All the better if you can find a framed set that includes a scorpion, her symbol. Snakes and serpents are another Scorpio symbol, and also bring to mind death and rebirth with their shedding of skin.

While snakeskin printed items may not appeal, jewelry depicting snakes usually will – especially if extremely realistic, or ethnic/geometric. Exotic items from other countries, particularly textiles or costume elements, will usually delight your Scorpio woman. Think unusual hats, headdresses, caftans, or flowing robes. Perfumes and body oils in spicy, heavy scents, and resinous fragrances will often appeal, as well as hard-to-find herbs and spices for her cooking. Anything related to the occult, human psychology, diverse cultures, and sexuality will definitely interest her – especially vintage books on these subjects. Exquisite underthings and fancy lingerie will please your Scorpio woman, who may be dressed in relatively simple head-to-toe black (always a safe bet when purchasing outerwear for her), but choose bras, undies, and lacy bodysuits in shades like heliotrope, cerise, electric chartreuse, and vermilion.

―SCORPIO WOMAN: PERSONALITY TRAITS, LOVE & MORE

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | VanderwoodxOC Cerise - Tagged | Ch. 18 Proposed Cooking Lessons

***My apologies for last week's lack of post. My puppy was diagnosed with a dreadful disease which we are lucky he survived followed by myself getting a terrible cold. I hope this week's sweet fluffy chapter will help. There is a deleted scene chapter before this available to my patrons. It’s called ‘Preparations Apart,’ and is all about Vandy gettin that ring and there are shower selfies involved. ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

*Remember, this is a sequel to Vanderwood Backstory, and Cerise has a bio. You can support my writing on patreon and get access to my VIP Discord Server or other goodies like early chapter releases and hidden scenes.  Tagged Chapter Directory*

They had spent the last day apart, and boy did he feel it when he woke up. Vanderwood pulled away from the mass of pillows that he’d cuddled into because they smelled like her, grumbling softly as he hadn’t slept nearly as well without her. He’d gotten her ring yesterday, that and hurt himself again by exercising after their exchanged after-shower selfies had caused him a pants tightness problem. Jesus…by now she’d probably also gotten her pills, too, not that that would do him any good. Yet. Bloody Hell, what kind of a man was he that that was what he was focused on?

He sent her a good morning text, assuming she would still be sleeping. It took him a while to get up and make breakfast, opting for toast again and some juice to wash down pain pills. He felt exactly like he had yesterday now, so he really had set himself back a day. At least it wasn't horrendously painful. Vanderwood didn't have much time left before he was going to be asking the love of his life to marry him. It was all so fast, but he knew she was the one for him, and he knew that she felt the same way, even though he was still anxious and nervous. He snorted at himself, only because he’d gone from, ‘I’m going to ask her someday’ to, ‘Now.’

Vanderwood kept practicing the words, hoping they would come out right. As much as he had practiced, 'Will you go out with me,' he had found that, 'Will you marry me' sounded incredibly different. At least it had been good practice in learning more words? Vanderwood showered and got dressed, opting for his v-neck shirt and black shirt over the top rather than a t-shirt. He should look at least a little nice, right? They were going to stay together tonight, so he packed up a little bag and grabbed the ring box, placing it in his pocket with a deep sigh, trying to release all the nerves that were building in his gut. It was nearly time. Vanderwood sat on the edge of his bed as he watched the minutes tick by, sending her another text. `I'll see you soon, shortcake. I miss you.`

***

Cerise was woken up by the sound of her phone going off. Groggily, she unlocked it to check her messages. It had been from her boyfriend...He was going to come over soon. Cerise stretched and hopped out of bed, scattering a few pillows about as she did so. She padded over to her bathroom and discovered that she somehow looked like an absolute mess. Her hair was all over the place. "...Did I fight a fricken leopard in my sleep?" She mumbled to herself as she tried to tame her messy locks with a brush. When she was satisfied, she clipped off a section of her fringe to keep it out of her eyes and set off to find something to wear.

She opted for a pair of shorts instead of a skirt and a tank top with tennis shoes. Cerise threw a cute jacket over the top and didn't skip the stocking, because it was still winter, after all. Finally, she brushed her teeth and put on lotion before plopping down on her couch in the living room and turning on the television. Now she pulled out her phone to reply, a smile on her face. `Miss u 2. I'll b waiting <3`

***

His phone pinged, and by now he was tired of waiting around. Surely, she wouldn't mind if he came a little early? The anxiety was eating at him, and he felt like he needed to ask her now. Hell, he probably wouldn't make it through the front door at this rate. Vanderwood sent her a quick text before grabbing his things and tossing them in the car. `Can't wait. Coming over now.` The drive seemed even longer than before. It wasn't really that long, maybe 20 minutes, but eternity stretched out before him before he had finally parked and was at her door, taking a deep breath as he knocked, hand finding the little box in his pocket. This was happening, and it was happening right now.

***

Her phone pinged and buzzed again, causing her to grin. It was cute that he couldn't wait to see her; she felt the same way. Cerise was eager to see him again after spending a night apart. Judging by how her hair had been that morning, she’d probably tossed and turned all night. She decided not to text him back, since he was driving, and she didn't want him to be tempted to check his phone while on the road...Not that he would. He was so much smarter than that.

She didn't know how much time it had been before she heard a knock at her door, causing her to jump up and all but run to it. Cerise flung it open and threw her arms around him, forgetting that he was sore. "Oops!" She let go and laughed sheepishly, "I kinda forgot...I just missed you." Cerise tried for a hug again except a lot gentler that time. She just felt like she was brimming with so much affection and excitement just by him being there; she felt like she could burst.

Vanderwood grunted at the pain of her embrace, but it was swiftly followed with one much gentler. He wrapped an arm around her as he kept his other hand in his pocket. "I missed you, too...Cerise....I have to tell you something." He stepped away from her just a little, his hand finding her chin and holding it, so he could keep his chestnut brown eyes locked with her honey gold. Cerise was about to complain that it was really cold out there and that they should probably head inside if he wanted to tell her something, but the look in his eyes were so intense and captivating she couldn't find the words. All she could do was stare up at him, the cold making her breath visible in the air.

"I can't remember being so happy as I am with you. You've given me everything, and I can't help but want to do the same. You're ma moitié, my everything, the only woman I'll ever need." The words were coming so easily, flowing perfectly even as blush rose in his cheeks. "I need to ask you something...something really important." Here it came, he'd practiced over and over and now was the moment of truth.

The words that came out of his mouth made her blush, he was being so sweet this early. Did he really miss her that much? She nodded when he said he needed to ask her something important, but she got worried for a moment when he suddenly dropped to one knee and visibly winced. Marion was in that much pain? He should have stayed in bed. Cerise was about to interrupt him and tell him that he was in pain and needed to come inside to rest, that they could talk later, but his next question threw her off.

"Iras-tu sortir avec moi...No....wait..." No, no no, that wasn't right. A look of confusion washed over her face. He...was asking her to go out with him. For the third time now. Was this some weird British thing? Vanderwood bit his tongue as he tried to remember. He had royally screwed this up, beautiful. Think, you dunderhead. "Veux-tu m'épouser....Yes...veux-tu m'épouser?" God, he couldn't blame her if she said no and made him ask again later, because that really sucked. Vanderwood felt stupid on many levels, but he produced the little ring box anyway.

Before she could try to interrupt again, once she broke out of her confused daze, he had asked his apparently corrected question. Did he realize what he was asking her? Apparently, he did, because he also produced a ring box. So here he was, proposing to her in her apartment doorway. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she dropped down with him and threw her arms around him, hugging tightly and forgetting again about his soreness. This wasn't something that she had expected this early in their relationship or...at all, really. She would have been happy just being by his side. "Of course...yes. Yes, I'll marry you." It didn't matter to her that they'd only even known each other for a short while, Cerise already knew that she and him were meant to be together. Why prolong the inevitable?

He saw the tears first and when her arms wrapped around him just a little too tightly, he knew. Vanderwood knew she was saying yes before the words left her mouth. Even though he was a cheesy, rather blunt, damaged idiot, she still wanted to marry him. Vanderwood wrapped her up tighter in his arms, despite how much it was hurting his back and leg to sit there like this. Cerise was going to marry him, and he couldn't be happier. He shifted just a little to open the ring box for her and take out the ring to place it on her finger. "This was my errand yesterday...I'm so happy you liked it..." And he was, probably happier than he'd ever been.

He kissed her ring softly before nuzzling her nose, his hands on her cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears. "Je'taime, Cerise...You've made me the happiest man in the world already." Vanderwood really hadn't made it past her doorway after all. The relief and joy washed through him now; the joy he could see in her eyes, that was worth making a fool of himself on her doorstep, even though his leg was starting to cramp up.

So, that had been his errand...he did say that he thought she'd like it. Cerise absolutely loved it. The ring he had picked out was simple but completely beautiful. He really knew how to pick something out to compliment her. As much as she annoyed him and wasn't good at much of anything, this man had asked her to marry him. Her, out of all the people in the world. "I love you too, Marion." Cerise sniffled a bit before standing up, holding onto his hands to motion for him to follow. It was really cold outside, and she didn't want him to get sick on top of all the pain he was in.

Vanderwood tried not to wince too much as she pulled him along into the house. He really had cramped up, but with how happy she was, it was so incredibly worth it. Once they were inside and the door was closed, she was embracing him again; she didn't want to let go. Cerise was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that the man currently standing in front of her was going to be her husband and was now officially her fiancé. There was such an intense feeling of joy that she had never experienced before now, and she wanted to remember it for the rest of her life.

If Cerise had been taller, she would have just kissed him, but she wasn't going to ruin the moment by hopping around like some deranged bunny just to reach him. "Thank you...for choosing to stay with me. And for putting up with me." She nuzzled her face into his shirt, still holding him. "You make me happy~ I don't think there's even an emoji that can express what I'm feeling right now. "

His heart wouldn't stop fluttering, all thanks to her. "Cerise..." She just kept holding him, and he didn't want to stop holding her, although he did want to kiss her. Could he manage the pain to do that? Cerise was his fiancée now. It almost seemed surreal, but there it was. This woman, who for all intents and purposes should have run away from him, should have turned him away the moment they met, had agreed to become his wife.

Her comments had him smiling and pulling her closer. "I would choose you over anyone. And I'll ‘put up’ with you for the rest of my life." He gently stroked her hair, his heart warming further. Of course, she would want to use emojis to describe it. There was no resisting it now. To Cerise’s absolute delight, it seemed he was going to kiss her.

Vanderwood pulled away from her solely so his hand could cup the side of her face as he kissed her, deep and slow. He poured his love for her into that kiss, wanting her to feel just how much it meant to him that she cared for him, that she wanted to take care of him at all, the joy that she brought to his formerly bleak world. His Cerise, immature and irritating, but wonderful, strong, caring, open-minded; Vanderwood couldn't come up with enough praises, because nothing would ever be enough. His body was reacting to her now even past all of the excitement, so he pulled away, blush hot in his cheeks.

Just from that one kiss--their first as an engaged couple, he told her wordlessly how much she meant to him and how much he loved her. Cerise loved these intense moments where words weren't needed. She poured her own heart into her kiss, getting lost in the flood of their shared affection. It felt like he’d pulled away far too soon for her liking, but she could understand why...She was starting to get worked up, so she could only imagine how he felt. The blush on her cheeks matched his as she took his hand and led him to the couch. "Sit here while I make some warm tea for my future hubby~" Just saying it made her heart leap.

He was thankful to be sitting down, and now he was blushing even harder at being called her future hubby with such a sweet voice. He was a little cold; he realized that now. The winter air had sunken into him but not been felt past his excitement. Vanderwood watched her as she made the tea, taking in her appearance. She was wearing shorts and a thin top with only her stockings and jacket to really provide any true warmth to her. He bit his tongue looking at her. His future wife didn't know how to dress for the weather apparently...but she sure dressed in a way he liked. Vanderwood internally slapped himself, sinking into the couch instead.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she examined the ring he’d gotten her. It was real. He had really asked her to marry him. That cheesy vanderjerk. The blush was still taking up residence on her face as she brewed a cup of tea. She added only a little ginger to some green tea with lemon and a small bit of honey. While she was at it, she made herself a cup, too, sans the ginger and with a lot more honey. When she was done, she carefully brought his cup to him with a smile. "Here~"

Her sing-song tones would be the death of him. "Thank you...future wife." Vanderwood reached for her, gently tapping her lips with his pointer finger. "I feel like I don't tell you enough just how beautiful you are." Attack of the cheesiness. She really was, though, and the outfit only made her look even better. He shifted to indicate he wanted her to snuggle up to him, not worrying about soreness, just wanting her close to him. After their night apart, he didn't want to be away from her at all.

Cerise felt like she was on cloud nine, and nothing could bring her down. Him calling her his future wife made her feel like she was falling in the best way. The color dominating her face was redder than her namesake. The word 'wife' felt like it couldn't apply to her quite yet--she was only twenty. People got married that young, right? How old was he, even? She figured he couldn't be that much older than her, even if he did act like such a stick in the mud sometimes. Cerise couldn't help but giggle a little. He was being so very cheesy today...Though he had every right to be, especially if he was as elated as she was.

"Oh~?" Cerise took him up on his offer, snuggling up to him closely. "If you think I'm so beautiful, maybe we should start going out or something." She teased him and carefully reached over him to where she’d put her own cup of tea on the side table. Vanderwood wrapped an arm around her as she snuggled into him. Her tease had him coughing softly in embarrassment. "Yeah, I think I really would like to go out with you."  He was about to say something to her about how much he liked her outfit, his hand at her hip so he could reach out and touch the soft fabric of her top. Vanderwood started absentmindedly playing with it, but then she completely broke his train of thought. "You know what, though?" Cerise took a sip of her tea and looked up at him, grinning. "I still think you look better in a skirt than I do~"

Fucking Seven. "I..." Vanderwood felt his eyebrow twitch just a little in irritation at the redhead. Someday, somehow, he would get that little shit back for showing that picture of him in a maid’s outfit by embarrassing the kid. If that were even possible. "I have to disagree with you." He bit his tongue before having some of the tea she'd made for him. There was a bit of ginger in it, but it wasn't nasty like the last time, and he would have been grateful for it even if it was. "Did you want to help me with lunch after we finish our tea, fiancée?" It felt ridiculously silly to keep repeating that she was in fact going to be his future wife, but it also gave him that warm fuzzy feeling he was coming to enjoy so much.

"Oh, but I think you're mistaken, dear Marion~" Cerise was definitely going to have to ask the red-headed man for any copies of that picture that he might have. She was sure that Vanderwood would protest as soon as he found out, but she'd find some way to convince him to let her keep it. He had repeated the word again; he was definitely as excited and giddy as she currently was. "I would love to help you, but I can't believe I get to have such an attractive teacher. Good thing I'm the only student, huh?" She took another sip of her tea. "Can't have the others getting all jealous that I'm marrying the teacher." Cerise glanced at her ring again, unable to get over how pretty it was or how well it had fit on her finger. How did he even know her size? She didn't even know her size.

Vanderwood snorted softly. "I'm more worried about me getting jealous if someone else were teaching you." That was most certainly true. It was a new thing for him, but he was definitely more jealous than the average person, and he had a feeling that his jealousy could be lethal in the right situation. Cereise nodded, talking into her cup of tea. "Would suck to be that person, huh?" She had already seen small glimpses of his jealousy, and there was no doubt he'd be quite a force under the right (or wrong) circumstances.

His eyes fell to her ring. It suited her so perfectly, and that just made him smile all the more, not only because she seemed to love it, but also because he felt damn proud of himself for picking something that matched her so well. "Does the ring fit okay? I made an educated guess." His fingers had continued absentmindedly playing with her shirt as he drank his tea, by chance slipping just under the fabric to brush against her scar.

"It fits perfectly, actually. I was surprised, it was a really lucky guess." They both sat there in silence for a little while just drinking their tea and enjoying each other's company after their time apart. While cuddled up to him, she could hear him breathe...it was such a comforting sound along with his steady heartbeat. She felt his fingers brush over her scar once more. Did he feel guilty?

Cerise tried not to think about that day, the words he had said. He didn't mean them, yet they still came out of his mouth. She shook her head and pushed those thoughts away. Of course, he didn't mean them, it probably hurt him to say them as much as it hurt her to hear them. Marion wouldn't have asked her to spend the rest of her life with him if he didn't want her around, if he didn't care for her--didn't love her.

Vanderwood had been tracing her scar for some time now, but then his fingers slipped down over the much smoother skin of her hip. He moved his hand, placing it up on the couch. Even just that one small touch to her skin had made him react to her. It had been too long and too stressful since the last time he'd had sex, clearly. He bit his tongue before taking a big swallow of tea, trying to hide just how red his face was.

When his hand moved from her scar to her hip, she began to automatically respond with a blush. Just as quickly as he had done it, he’d pulled his hand away. She looked up at him with a questioning expression, finding his face was totally red. Cerise was happy that he was doing so well, that he had so much better impulse control now. If he hadn't been so sore, she might have tried at teasing him just a little. Instead, she opted to just let him have his moment, pretending she hadn't noticed how flustered he was...which in turn made her more flustered.

He placed his tea to the side. Why was it that he already wanted to put his hand on her again, wanted the contact? Addiction based or just because he loved her? Really, he was doing much better than he thought he would ever be able to at controlling himself, although he still worried. She deserved the best of this world, and he only hoped he could make that happen...only hoped he would be able to keep her from getting hurt in his presence any further than the times she already had.

Just a day before after her brush with painkillers he'd said...some things. In the moment he'd meant them, and it was a fear for him that he would ruin her life, but...Vanderwood looked down at her. He would keep that from happening, and she was willing to risk everything to be with him, just like he was to be with her. She had that right just as much as he did.

Cerise kept her head down and focused on her tea. The silence was starting to be a little uncomfortable for her.  "Marion...I never really asked you. How old are you? I guess it's kinda silly asking that now considering..." Cerise found the hand that he rested on the couch and began to play with his fingers. "I'm twenty...but I'm sure you already know that. Being a super-secret agent and all.”

Her question pulled him out of his thoughts. "Oh...well..." That's right, he'd never told her. "Yeah...I've known since the day after I brought you to the first hotel. Seven sent me a file...but I could only read the first sentence. Didn't feel right to read the rest." She probably had some idea of how old he was already, so it wouldn't be a huge shock right? "I'm 28. I'll be 29 soon."

Okay, so he was eight years older than her, that wasn't bad. At the mention of the word 'soon' her eyes lit up. "Soon? When is your birthday?" Cerise loved celebrating things. Holidays and birthdays made her so excited, but the birthday of her fiancé? Sign her right the Hell up! She was totally going to learn how to cook by then, so she could surprise him with something she made that wasn't terrible and burned. By now, she was pretty much hovering right next to his face, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Holy shit, why was she so excited? He leaned away just a little, furrowing his brows at her. It was just a birthday. Hell, he'd never even done anything for his birthday. "It's...December 23rd. Just about a month from now...but I'd rather not dwell on it." Vanderwood couldn't even remember people saying happy birthday to him. No wait, he could. Caleb. Caleb was the only one who remembered. Vanderwood wrapped his arms around Cerise, pulling her into his lap tightly and burying his face in her hair. His heart had felt like it was being suddenly crushed, her presence in his arms easing it somewhat.

She didn't even have a chance to ask him why he seemed so upset before he was pulling her into his lap. The atmosphere felt sort of…gloomy all the sudden...Had something happened on his birthday? Did he just not like celebrating it? If it was bad memories he had...she wanted to do her best to replace them with good ones. He was twenty-eight...and probably hadn't celebrated his birthday in a while. Cerise had a lot of work to do if she wanted him to look back fondly on it, but now she figured they had their entire lives ahead of them to make that happen. He had buried his face into her hair, probably not wanting to talk right now, so she just nuzzled into him, letting him enjoy the silence as he held her there.

The silence and just her warmth, it was comforting. It was exactly what he needed. After a few minutes, he felt like he could talk again. "I'm sorry..." He mumbled into her hair before he released her slowly. "That was a little sudden...Just...unpleasant thoughts." Vanderwood gave her an apologetic smile and a soft kiss to her forehead. "You do whatever you want for my birthday...but I can't promise you I'll be in a good mood."

Cerise shook her head and gave him an understanding smile. "Don’t worry, you know? We're gonna make happy memories." God help him if she forgot. Vanderwood internally winced at the idea, but Cerise wouldn't forget...judging from how excited she had been...she wouldn't forget. His hand found the side of her face, cupping her cheek as he had a tendency to do before he gave her a kiss, nice and slow, pulling away to kiss her nose. "Now...is my beautiful fiancée ready for her first lesson? I'm a little hungry."

He didn't really feel like talking about it right now, as much as he had promised her his honesty...it could wait. Those childhood memories were more painful than the stories of his scars and were overshadowed by Caleb's death in ways that made him feel like he couldn't breathe past the pain in his chest. It was strange; usually he'd never think about those memories, they were just locked up behind a wall of pain, but this memory, as painful as it was, it also felt good. His brother had loved him. Vanderwood bit his tongue to keep from turning into a mess again.

She didn't think even in a million years she would get tired of his kisses. Each one never felt like the last, but all of them were enough to always take her breath away. "I'm so ready." She hopped up off the couch and towards her kitchen at an incredible speed. Not only was she really hungry, but she was really eager to learn from him. Cerise turned around and motioned for him to follow. "Come on, slow poke! At this rate we'll be celebrating my birthday before you get your butt over here."

"Alright, I'm coming." He snorted softly at her enthusiasm, that and her birthday was almost a full year away, and he couldn't possibly be that slow, even injured. Vanderwood couldn't help but smile like an idiot as he looked at her, thinking about just how much she meant to him. "Let me go get the groceries. Wash your hands while I'm gone...And maybe find me a hair-tie?" Cerise teasingly saluted him and found him the hair-tie he had asked for before washing her hands. They were going to be cooking, so she made sure to wash them extra well.

He had left the groceries in the car in his excitement to propose, so now he went to get them before entering her house again and placing them on an open space of counter. "Alright...so we're making omelets with some vegetables, not too difficult and pretty healthy." Cerise was drying off her hands when he reappeared back in the house with the groceries, nodding as he spoke. Omelets sounded pretty easy, and vegetables weren't that scary either. She could totally impress him with how quickly she could pick this up. Eggs and vegetables were nothing. "That sounds delicious! I can't wait~" Cerise handed him his hair-tie. "So, what's first, Teach'?"

"I'm probably going to start by teaching you how to wash and cut the vegetables while I whisk up and cook the eggs." Vanderwood chuckled at her enthusiasm. Cerise was a marvel to him sometimes. He put his hair up before looking her over. She had a Hell of a lot more hair than he did. Considering the mess she'd made the last time she cooked, it was probably better for her to have her hair up, too. "But...I think you should put your hair up first, too."

He was not risking her lighting that on fire. Vanderwood loved her hair, more than he really cared to admit. "Oh, my hair too?" Cerise nodded and disappeared out of the kitchen and into her bedroom before returning with a thicker hair scrunchie and handing it to him. "You do it~" She didn't give him a chance to answer before she turned around, shaking her hair out with her hands for a moment.

A light blush appeared on his face. He loved messing with her hair, really, so putting it up, as dumb as it sounded, it was a little on the intimate side, at least for him. "Alright then." Such a simple task shouldn't really make your chest feel warm and fuzzy should it? Vanderwood took the hair scrunchie and put it on his wrist as he gathered her hair up carefully before sliding the scrunchie from his wrist to around her hair, making sure to get it tight enough that it would stay but not so it would hurt her head.

He gave her a quick kiss to the top of her head then moved to grab some carrots and broccoli from his grocery bag, handing them to her. "Alright...so, first we get them out of the bags. Then we wash them off. The carrots will need peeling, but the broccoli just needs a good wash." Vanderwood washed his hands quickly, leaving the water running to wash the veggies. "So...let's wash the broccoli first, since that doesn't need peeling."

Cerise bounced in place excitedly as he talked before taking the broccoli from him. “You got it~” Easy stuff; she was practically a broccoli-washing pro! Cerise hummed excitedly to herself before turning the broccoli over. He watched her, shaking his head a little. Lord, she was in adorable form. At least he could trust her to wash broccoli, right? That wasn't so hard.

Vanderwood had gone to open the bag of carrots, so they could wash those as soon as she got the broccoli cut up, and then his thoughts were violently interrupted when he was splashed with water. She had managed to somehow make the stalk fling water at the both of them, getting in her eyes. "Sorry!" Cerise apologized and rubbed her eyes. She didn't know broccoli could be so...rubber-bandy and flingy. He looked over at her to see that, yup, somehow she had managed to mess up washing, but at least the broccoli was clean? He carefully took the broccoli from her and placed it on a cutting board, trying not to be bothered by the fact that there was a wet spot on his back. "That's alright." She really was rather clumsy.

Did he trust her with a knife? Vanderwood cut the stalk of the broccoli off himself before motioning for her to stand in front of him, demonstrating cutting the broccoli apart from the little cluster. He hadn't expected her proximity to be a problem for him, but she was so close, and he needed to get away before problems arose, so to speak. Vanderwood did just that, shifting away from her directly after showing her how to cut the pieces apart. "So...just cut them away from the bigger portion while I wash the carrots." She could get that, right?

"Yessir!" She answered with another salute, trying to ignore how close he had been to her. Cerise had cut things before. That shouldn't be hard...At least she couldn't get splashed. Except with blood once you manage to cut your finger off. Cerise froze. Whoa, what a terrible thought. She shook her head; she wouldn't be cutting any appendages off today. Carefully, she did as he’d instructed and managed to successfully cut the florets away from the stalks without much of an issue. How in the world could she do that but not wash the goddamn thing correctly?

Vanderwood had started on washing the carrots, snorting at her salute. Thankfully, cooking was a good mind clearer, but he kept glancing at her to make sure she wasn't cutting herself. Her voice got his attention. "I think I did this right." As he looked over, his eyes widened. "Yeah, you did great. And no blood." That was supposed to be an internal thought, but now it was out. "Um...I wasn't expecting any." He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck, because then he'd just have to wash his hands again. "So...um...put that in a pot, and let's wash and peel some carrots."

Cerise couldn’t help but feel a little flush in her cheeks as he, apparently accidentally, pointed out the obvious. "It's okay...I'm actually surprised too." She confessed with a nervous laugh. That probably wasn't reassuring at all, but there it was. Cerise deposited the broccoli into the designated pot. "Okay...carrots." He seemed to be busy with washing them...which was fair considering how she had treated the broccoli, so she could just start on the peeling.

She grabbed the peeler and a carrot. He hadn't really shown her how to do it, but it couldn't be any harder than chopping broccoli. Vanderwood was surprised to see her grabbing the peeler already, apparently wanting him to wash the carrots while she peeled. Did she need to be shown how? Probably not…Holding the carrot, Cerise applied pressure with the peeler and peeled the top skin off. Well...it was more like half the carrot...which as she applied pressure to get the chunk of carrot off, suddenly shot across the room. Cerise just stared blankly and she watched the orange torpedo hit the wall and then the floor. Why? Why was she so bad at this?

He had been watching what she was doing, a little confused by how she was choosing to hold the carrot, but he wasn’t expecting the orange missile situation. Vanderwood just kind of stared at the carrot on the floor for a minute. "Um...let me help you with that." He tossed the carrot, grabbing another, a little wary as he took her hands from behind her again. His head bent to lightly press a kiss to the spot just behind her ear, an easy task with her hair up, before he bit his tongue and returned to the task at hand.

No time for nonsense...Vanderwood took the carrot and placed it in her hand, showing her how to properly hold the damn thing, because apparently that was too difficult for her clumsiness, God, she was cute...and slightly terrifying. Cerise cooking could probably be weaponized. Vanderwood had to suppress a snort as well as control the little side of fear that gripped at him as he envisioned her shooting carrots at someone. He shook his head before he helped her peel a few lines off the carrot. "It can peel both ways, but I think you should peel in the direction away from your body...To be safe." His concern for her safety was outweighing his concern for how close he was pressed to her like this.

For a moment, he seemed to be thinking, maybe in more reverent silence over what had happened to that poor carrot. Cerise was still having her own little moment of silence over that, quite frankly. It was becoming apparent to even herself just how bad at this she was. His comment about peeling away from herself for her own safety made her scrunch up her nose for a second before her face relaxed. "You know...that's fair." She peeled the carrot like he had shown her away from herself, and once she had started, she found it rather easy, as long as she held it correctly.

He stepped away to start on the eggs, but Vanderwood had found himself mostly watching her rather than dealing with the eggs out of worry. After the first carrot, it looked like she was doing okay. She managed not to maim any more defenseless carrots and successfully peeled the rest he had washed as he cracked the eggs into a pot for stirring together.

Cerise figured that cutting them was next as she finished, placing the peeler aside along with the final carrot. "Done with this part~" She sang out and went to go and grab her knife. Unfortunately, she had completely forgotten that she might not have peeled them over the trash can, causing her to slip on the orangey peels. The kitchen was not her friend. Cooking was not her friend. The Gods above obviously hated her.

He had snorted softly at her sing-song tone, having moved to place the eggs on the counter, and then he noticed her slipping. Vanderwood's heart was in his throat as he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms successfully before she could hit the ground. Cerise had closed her eyes in preparation of hitting the floor, but it never came. She opened one eye to see that he had grabbed her before she could. It was a good thing she hadn't managed to grab for the knife; that would have been a disaster. Vanderwood was about ready to curl up in a ball in the corner. The mess too…the carrot peels on the floor he hadn’t noticed out of concern for making sure she didn’t launch the carrots about the room.

Obviously, she simply wasn't meant to cook. It was fate, clearly. Life had prepared him to be the housewife for her, because his future wife sure as Hell wasn't one. He realized he was holding her rather tightly and let go slowly. "Are you alright?" When he finally let go, Cerise looked down to see what it was that made her slip. Yep. That figured. She knew she should have peeled the orange traitors over the trash can. Cerise looked back at him and blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine..."

Despite her saying so, he still felt the need to check her over, apparently. His hands went to her shoulders, moving down her arms and then to her waist and over her legs as he searched for any sign of injury, his face slowly turning redder. It was sweet how much he worried over her, even for super simple things. God, she was so clumsy...Maybe cooking would never be her thing. In theory, it seemed so simple, but she just was not able to pick it up. Maybe in time...who knew?

When he was done checking her over, she noticed that his face was at a new level of red. The touches were innocent, and she thought nothing of them, but the way his face was flushing only made hers match it, and she couldn't help but to look down at her feet, letting her hair obscure her face again. Marion moved to press a soft kiss to her forehead, which didn’t make it easier. "I think you've learned enough for one day, shortcake...Please go sit down before I have a heart attack..."

Cerise wanted to argue with him, tell him that she wanted to stay in the kitchen and learn more, but he did have a point. If she stayed in there today, she was either going to kill herself or kill him in some ridiculous freak kitchen accident. She didn't even blame him for shooing her away. Cerise stalked over to the couch and plopped down with a bounce, turning her head so she could watch him in the kitchen. It made her feel bad that she sucked at cooking so much that he basically had to do everything. Maybe she was just good at other things and hadn't realized it? Cerise let out a sigh and pulled her phone out, stopping to glance at her ring. If she was going to be someone's wife...his wife--shouldn't she be better at these things? Some woman she was...but she didn't think he was the type of person at all to ask her unless he was absolutely sure that she was what he wanted. She had time to learn things.

A smile played on her face as she opened the camera and took a selfie of herself with her ring in view, making sure to angle it to where Vanderwood could be seen cooking in the background. Cerise had her doubts about being a good wife, but she wasn't going to let that dampen her excitement. She figured she must have added like fifty tags to that photo and surprisingly opted not to put stickers all over it. It was a great picture how it was and didn't need any decorations--Cerise's ring was decoration enough.

As expected, as soon as she uploaded the picture, her phone began to blow up with messages and notifications. She couldn't help but giggle and read through the well wishes and congratulations. There were a few salty people, but she tended to ignore them. They were going to have a beautiful relationship, haters or no.

Vanderwood really wasn't sure he could take more kitchen mishaps, focusing on taking care of the mess that was making his skin crawl before he could start cooking again. Occasionally, he peeked at her from his periphery. It looked like she was on her social media. A little smile crossed his face. How had he, a guy who had tried all his adult life to avoid having any online presence whatsoever, fallen in love with a woman who was virtually famous?

It struck him as incredibly ironic. On top of that, it was a bit dangerous, but...Cerise was the love of his life, and he wasn't about to let any more danger come to her. It might show up at the doorstep, but he would take care of it. Vanderwood let the veggies cook while he worked on the omelets, adding a little cheese, which hopefully she liked. "Lunch is almost ready." He looked at her there on the couch. That woman, that perfect little obstinate woman, was going to be his wife.

Cerise perked her head up at his announcement. No doubt if she had stayed in there, it would have taken ten times as long. This incredibly domestic setting made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. There were no issues to worry about, no secret threats to speak of. Cerise hopped back up off of the couch and made her way back to the kitchen, coming up behind him to wrap her arms around his torso as he’d turned around. It could have waited, sure, but she just really felt she needed to hug him right then.

Vanderwood was portioning the veggies onto the plates with the omelets when she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He hadn't been expecting that at all, but his heart flipped in his chest, and his hands found hers as he hung his head and closed his eyes. It was such a simple little thing, just a hug, but he felt so happy, a moment of peace and quiet with his soulmate. His finger stroked lightly over her ring, the ring that said she was his wife to be. She felt him relax into her arms and they were able to share a quiet little moment. It was nice to just be near him, especially when they had recently spent so much time apart. Cerise decided she hated being apart from him and hoped that there was never another situation that he had to be away for so long, because his absence was definitely noticed.

How long did they stand there like that? It felt never ending, and maybe that's just what it was like to be truly happy. Vanderwood gently moved her hands away to grab her plate and turn to hand it to her. "I love you, shortcake...I'm so glad you said yes." He felt blush in his cheeks again, but that was just how today was going to be, it seemed. It was the best day of his life so far. "I love you, too." A light blush dusted her cheeks. Marion sounded so soft and sincere, and it made her heart flutter. "I'm glad you asked me. " Cerise shot him a smile before she was headed back to the couch with her omelet, waiting to start on it until he joined her. Not only had she gotten the cooking lesson she was promised today, but she’d gotten a proposal for something much better.

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Tagged Chapter Directory

[broomballkraken]

Title: Simply Complicated 

Fandom: Code: Realize

Pairing: Leonhardt/Victoria

Word count: 3340

Warnings: None

Summary: To the outside world, they were Captain Leonhardt and Her Highness the Queen of Britain. But in the privacy of the Queen’s bedchambers, they were Rempart and Victoria, a simple - no, not simple, just...simply complicated - man and woman who had a lot of love to give...especially to each other.

“Is something bothering you, Your Majesty?”

Victoria was jerked abruptly from her thoughts as she turned to find Leonhardt watching her, his brow creased with a look of concern in his eyes. It was the end of a long, exhausting day of seemingly endless meetings, political or otherwise, and by now the Queen of Britain was a bit out of sorts. Apparently she had spaced out for the entire walk from the throne room to her bedchambers, for she just now noticed that they were standing right outside of her door. How...unlike her to let her guard down so carelessly.

“I‘m fine. Just...a bit more tired than usual, I suppose,” Victoria said, stepping through the door when Leonhardt opened it for her. Once they both were inside and the door was closed tight, Victoria allowed herself to sigh deeply.

“Things have been a bit more...hectic than usual after everything that’s happened.” Leonhardt mused, following Victoria as she swiftly crossed the room to her vanity and dropped unceremoniously into the chair in front of it. They fell into a comfortable silence as Leonhardt got to work helping remove her outerwear, starting with her cloak. Victoria rolled her shoulders to help crack her back as she pondered his words.

Hectic. That was an understatement that caused Victoria to chuckle softly. Issac Beckford had almost completely and utterly destroyed London in his quest for a never-ending, global war. Luckily that had been avoided, due to the efforts of Issac’s daughter and her band of trouble-making, rambunctious friends.

Dealing with the aftermath of the chaos was exhausting, however. Between the efforts to rebuild London and the negotiations with the young but surprisingly mature vampire king, Victoria barely had time to eat, and her erratic sleep schedule left much to be desired. But, there was one thing that remained a constant in her life, and that was Leonhardt, her most loyal and trustworthy guard and friend.

Be that as it may, Leonhardt was also a cause of recent mental strife for her. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, and she absentmindedly lifted her foot for Leonhardt, who had knelt down in front of her to help remove her shoes.

The recent horrific events had Victoria thinking hard about the future, specifically pertaining to her...personal life. Seeing so many people lose their lives so swiftly and unexpectedly had her thinking about her own mortality, about how fragile even her life was. It made her desperate to speak of her buried, unspoken feelings of longing that had been festering within her for a long, long time. She wanted to tell Leonhardt of her true feelings for him.

She did not know exactly when it had happened, but at some point from the time he became her most loyal Guard Captain to now, Victoria had fallen in love with Leonhardt. He was the only person that she could truly let her guard down around, and not worry about him judging her for expressing her exact feelings. She could not recall the last time someone other than Leonhardt had seen her cry, and she would be keeping it that way. He never really said much during those times when she had felt her most broken, he just held her until she could compose herself and move on as if nothing had happened.

Victoria also not only admired his undying devotion to her, but also his dedication to the men under his command, and the general compassion that he held for those that he swore to protect. She had watched Leonhardt train new guardsmen in secret many times, and she was always impressed with his efficient and effective training regimens, but also his patience when a recruit was struggling to keep up. Maybe it was while watching one of those training sessions that she fell in love with him.

Her head suddenly felt lighter, and Victoria glanced at Leonhardt through the mirror, watching as he lifted her hat and headdress from her head and placed it on the vanity. He then moved to stand behind her again, and took a bow.

“I will take my leave now, Your Majesty. Please, rest well. Goodnight.” Leonhardt said, and he started to make for the door. Victoria frowned as a creeping, familiar loneliness dropped into her gut like a pound of lead. This was how her nightly routine usually went; Leonhardt would help her with removing her outerwear and accessories, and then he would leave and send in the maids to help her with the rest of her undressing. Tonight, however, she found that it would be a bit too painful to let him leave so soon.

“Wait.”

A small smile crept over Victoria’s face when Leonhardt froze mid-step, and he quickly straightened up as he turned back around, brows knitted with confusion. It had always amused Victoria at how animated Leonhardt was, and how easy it was to read his feelings. He always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, and Victoria made a mental note that he would be absolutely awful at playing poker.

“...Is there something else that you want from me, Your Majesty?” he asked, after a brief moment of hesitation.

Victoria almost laughed at the deceptively simple question, but she managed to keep a straight face. On the contrary, it was anything but simple. There were many, many things that she wanted...no, needed from him. She needed to feel the warmth of his hand in hers, his calloused fingers entwined with her soft, delicate ones. She needed to indulge in the taste of his kiss, and smile against his lips when the hairs of his mustache inevitably tickled her nose. She needed to whisper sweet nothings into his ear as she melted into his embrace. She needed to tell him what her true feelings for him were, that she loved him…

She scoffed inwardly at her simplistic, adolescent desires. It was as if she was a princess in a fairy tale, dreaming of her one true love, her prince charming, her knight in shining armor...her most loyal Captain of the Royal Guard...How exceedingly immature of her...but, frustratingly, her heart still longed, ached for him.

“Yes,” she said as she stood up, “I want you to stay and...help me with my hair.” Victoria bit her cheek to keep herself from laughing when Leonhardt sputtered, and she caught his face flushing the brightest shade of red before she disappeared behind her dressing screen.

“B-But, Your Majesty, t-that would be...would you not feel more comfortable with, ah, a fellow woman helping you with that?” Victoria heard him ask as she quickly shed the rest of her clothes, letting out a sigh of relief when her restricting corset was removed.

“Leonhardt, you should know by now that you are the one person that I am most comfortable with,” Victoria responded, and she snickered when she heard him inhale sharply. Silence filled the room, and Victoria paused as she waited for his reply.

“...Is that an order, Your Majesty?” he said, and Victoria rolled her eyes. What a very Leonhardt like thing to ask.

“It is merely a simple request,” she said, although he probably thought that it was anything but simple. “You can leave if you truly want to.” Victoria left it at that as she grabbed her nightgown that was hanging over the dressing screen and slipped it on. She half expected Leonhardt to have retreated from the room by now, but she was pleasantly surprised when she stepped out from behind the screen to find him still standing stock still in the same spot that she had left him.

“Oh? I’m surprised that you didn’t flee from the room, with how much you were protesting,” Victoria teased, letting a giggle slip when Leonhardt cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“Well, how could I refuse an honest request from my liege?” Leonhardt mumbled, and Victoria’s heart clenched as she grit her teeth. Was that all that she was to him, just the queen that he served? She had a lingering hope that he may harbor the same feeling for her as she did for him, but the fear of him rejecting her was always gnawing at the back of her mind, like a rabid beast picking at a festering wound. She steeled herself as she made her way back to the vanity and sat down.

Victoria’s eyes slipped shut when Leonhardt moved back behind her, and her heartbeat quickened when his hands slid through her hair, carefully removing the clips and pins holding her long white hair in place. She cracked open an eye, and she smiled at the look of deep concentration on Leonhardt’s face.

“You are surprisingly good at this.” Victoria commented, and Leonhardt shrugged as he deposited the last of the pins onto the vanity before grabbing the hairbrush sitting nearby.

“Yes, well, I used to help my sister do her hair all the time.” Leonhardt said, smiling fondly as he started to brush out Victoria’s hair. She nodded slightly, careful to not move her head too much.

“You’re a good man, Leonhardt.” Victoria said, her cerise eyes meeting his emerald green through the mirror. He paused his brushing for a moment as he stared at her, the intensity of his gaze giving her pause, before he broke the eye contact and stared down at her hair.

“You flatter me, Your Majesty. I do my best to uphold the ideals of justice, but it was you who gave me the opportunity to do so in the first place. I am...eternally grateful to you for that.” he said, and those simple, honest words were enough to send Victoria’s heart soaring within her chest. He was indeed the best man that she had ever known...and that scared her, because how could someone as pure-hearted as him love someone like her?

Upholding Britain's image as a global powerhouse was a daunting task even for her, one that has led her to sometimes seeking out...unsavory ways to keep it that way. And Leonhardt knew every single one of those ways. As morbid as it sounds, she was lucky that the events caused by Issac Beckford had happened when they did, because she arguably had something just as heinous planned to achieve her own goals. Luckily for her, seeing the aftermath of Issac’s insane plot had opened her eyes to just how awful her own schemes were, and she ceased those plans at once.

But still, Leonhardt had been the only person that she had shared these plans with. How could he not think of her as a monster, considering how many lives that she had been planning to sacrifice for the sake of her country? Victoria knew that Leonhardt would follow her straight to hell if she asked him to, but did she want that? No, certainly not. She wanted only good things for him, even if that meant a lifetime of longing for a love that she did not deserve.

That being said, the possibility - however slim it was - that Leonhardt did share her feelings was too hard to pass up, so even in the face of overwhelming rejection, she decided that she needed to act upon her feelings. She was Alexandrina Victoria, Queen of Britain. She would not let a measly fear of the unknown keep her from her desires, however silly and naive they may be.

“Er, Your Majesty?” Victoria looked up to see that Leonhardt had finished brushing out her hair, and was now shifting nervously on his feet behind her, “It is getting rather late, so I should probably, um, let you retire for the night…”

Victoria frowned as she narrowed her eyes at him. Your Majesty. My Queen. Your Highness. She could not recall the last time, or if he had ever, called her by her actual name. She didn’t like that. Leonhardt was her best friend, most loyal guard, the man that she loved. She wanted to hear him speak her name, and she in turn wanted to speak his.

Shooting up from her seat, she turned around and walked straight up to Leonhardt. He jumped slightly, startled by her sudden movement, and he made to step backwards when Victoria stepped dangerously close. Victoria would not have that, so she stopped him by placing her hands on his arms, freezing him in place almost instantly.

“Say my name.” Victoria said, her gaze intense as she stared Leonhardt in the eye, who just gawked at her, losing any shred of the composure that he had been trying to keep together.

“What?”

“I want to hear you speak my name.” Victoria released her hold on the now dumbstruck man’s arms and instead slid her hands up against his chest. His breath hitched and he tensed up, and Victoria could barely hide her amusement at how absolutely flustered he was.

“B-But…” Leonhardt stuttered, and Victoria sighed, boldly moving her hands from his chest to gently cup his face, her cold fingers warmed by the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“Say my name...Rempart.” Victoria whispered, her eyes boring into his as she tilted her head upwards. As he stared down at her, she felt the tension slowly ease away from him under her fingertips. He closed his eyes but for a moment, and when he opened them, Victoria’s heartbeat quickened at the intense fire burning in his eyes.

“Is that an...order?” he asked, his voice soft and low, and that was enough to send a shiver down Victoria’s spine.

“It is...a desire, from the deepest depths of my heart.” she breathed, her desperation evident in her voice as Leonhardt slowly brought a hand to her face and gently caressed her cheek with a feather-light brush of his rough, calloused fingers.

“...As you wish...Victoria.”

Hearing the man that she loved finally say her name was enough to completely break the dam that had been holding Victoria’s emotions back. She wasted no time as she pulled Leonhardt face down, closing the distance between them completely as her lips met his. His surprised noise was muffled, and Victoria smiled against his lips as she watched his eyes slowly slip shut, with hers following suit soon after. He removed his shaking hand from her cheek and moved it to the back of her neck, his other hand moving hesitantly to settle on her waist. Victoria relished at the closeness, and she pulled Leonhardt even closer when she snaked her arms around his neck.

Finally kissing the man that she loved after what seemed like an eternity of unspoken, agonizing pining made Victoria feel an indescribable amount of happiness. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, and the soft hairs of Leonhardt’s mustache brushed lightly against her nose, causing her smile to widen. This...was even better than she had imagined, and when she felt Leonhardt’s lips turn upwards against hers, she knew that he was feeling the same way.

It seemed to end all too soon, but Victoria was forced to pull away to catch her breath. She stared up at Leonhardt’s face as she panted heavily, taking the time to admire the flush on his cheeks and his red, slightly swollen lips. Leonhardt stared down at her, an unsure, hesitant look in his eyes, and Victoria giggled.

“My, my, are you speechless for once in your life, Leonhardt?” she teased, and his face scrunched up as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Ah, well…” he mumbled, “it’s just...I never, in my wildest dreams thought that you would ever...Ah, this...isn’t a dream, is it?” Victoria snorted before she burst out laughing.

“Well, if this is a dream,” Victoria said when she composed herself, and she reached up to gently brush away a bit of Leonhardt’s hair that had fallen into his face before she continued, “then I never want to wake up.”

“Do you...really mean that?” Leonhardt asked, and the complete disbelief in his voice made her heart clench as she frowned.

“Of course I do. I...I have harbored these feelings for you for quite some time now.” Victoria said, the words tumbling out of her all at once. It seemed so easy now, why had she waited so long to tell him this? She watched as Leonhardt pulled away from her, some kind of inner conflict playing out on his face as he ran a hand through his hair and chewed on his bottom lip.

“...Of all the men that you could choose to be with,” Leonhardt finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed thickly, “you...would actually choose me?”

“Yes.” Victoria responded with zero hesitation as she reached out to grasp his hands, calloused from years and years of wielding a sword in her name. “There never has been, and there never will be anyone else that I would choose over you.”

“But, surely you would want someone of royal blood-”

“No,” Victoria cut him off sharply, her eyes narrowing with annoyance, “I am not so shallow as to pick a suitor just because they are royalty. No, Leonhardt, you are the most exceptional man that I have ever met. I trust no one like I trust you, and I...love no one like I love you.” When those last three words left her mouth, Leonhardt’s eyes went wide as saucers, and he finally smiled again.

“I...am at a loss for words,” he said as he approached Victoria again, and the radiant smile on his face was one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen, “I never imagined that you would ever love me like I love you.”

“Then we have both been pining fools for far too long, haven’t we?” Victoria said, a sly smirk crossing her face as Leonhardt laughed as he pulled her into a warm, safe embrace.

“I do love you,” Leonhardt whispered into her ear. Victoria smiled against his chest; she would never tire of hearing those words fall from his lips, “I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you too,” she said, pulling away slightly to gaze up at his handsome face. He smiled down at her, before he glanced out of the window at the night sky.

“It is rather late, I should...probably leave you to retire for the evening.” Leonhardt said, a deep frown settling on his face. Victoria could practically see the disappointment oozing out of him, and she shook her head.

“Stay with me tonight, Rempart.” Victoria said softly. He seemed to hesitate for only the slightest moment, before a smile returned to his face as he took her hand in his.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The maids will talk, you know.” he said, and Victoria laughed and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Oh, I know they will. I just don’t give a damn.” It was Leonhardt’s turn to bark out a laugh. When he composed himself, he lifted Victoria’s hand to his face, his eyes never leaving hers as he placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand. It was a simple gesture, and yet it ignited such an intense heat deep within her gut that it surprised her.

“As you wish, my beloved Victoria.” he whispered, and Victoria let herself be engulfed in his warm embrace as their lips met once more in a heated, hungry kiss.

To the outside world, they were Captain Leonhardt and Her Highness the Queen of Britain. But in the privacy of the Queen’s bedchambers, they were Rempart and Victoria, a simple - no, not simple, just...simply complicated - man and woman who had a lot of love to give, especially to each other. They would have to part all-too-soon to resume their essential duties, but right now, they were content with basking in the warm of the other’s embrace for as long as they could.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | Tagged - VanderwoodxOC Cerise | Ch. 2 The Long Road Begins

***It's about to get Hella intense in here, so everybody buckle up. Also, you should totally get your hands on the new Drawl Backstory available to patrons only.

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Why could he never get a full night’s sleep? Vanderwood had of course trained himself to be a light sleeper, so clearly that was why, but it never ceased to annoy him just how often something would wake him at night. This time it was his phone buzzing like crazy. He rolled over to grab it, expecting it to be from boss, only to unlock the screen to find a slurry of texts, screenshots of photos of him, and one with Cerise with him in the background.

His internal dialogue was Fuck. She had been taking photos after all. He’d noticed but had completely forgotten about it again, a huge mistake. The screenshots themselves weren’t the worst of it. There were comments from the unknown sender. ‘She’s got such pretty eyes, pity if I were to pour acid into them?’ ‘Look at those fingers, just begging to be bent back.’ ‘This is what you get for getting attached, Vanderhottie.’

Vanderwood felt sick, but instantly he knew who these messages were from. Drawl. (Get Drawl Backstory by becoming a patron.) He was up and getting changed in mere seconds, running out of the room to grab one of Seven’s keys, not bothering to take the time to ask. If Drawl had Cerise…he didn’t want to think about it, and he certainly didn’t have much time. The guy was a sociopath. From the information the agency had, he’d even murdered his own family just to become an agent for the rival agency. (insert Drawl hidden scene backstory) What was worse, Vanderwood had shot the guy in the shoulder and completely shattered it. Drawl wasn’t exactly known for being forgiving.

He was panicking, speeding down the highway to the address Drawl had screenshotted from Cerise’s geotags. This was all his fault, and he couldn’t let her get hurt. Cerise was just a civilian, one that wasn’t supposed to be involved in this shit at all, but look how the cookies had crumbled. She shouldn’t have been in his life for even a second.

***

Drawl smirked, this was going to be so much fun. Vanderwood deserved it too. It had taken months for Drawl’s shattered shoulder to heal. The lock was easy to pick, nothing to it. Such a nice little apartment Vanderwood’s sweetie had. The girl wasn’t hard to find, sleeping soundly in her bed.

Well, she had been sleeping soundly until Drawl pressed his hand down over her mouth and nose, watching her struggle for air for a while. All Cerise knew was that she could not breathe. She struggled against her attacker, and she so desperately wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He was feeling his pants grow tight from the image. Watching the panic, seeing the life leave a woman’s eyes was always great, oh, it was great. He disappointedly removed his hand from her face to allow her to grab some gasps of air as he pressed a knife against her side to keep her still and under his control.

Cerise wasn’t sure how long she was deprived of air, but it seemed like an eternity. As soon as the hand came off, she gasped for air, breathing heavily. Her blood ran cold, senses coming back to her once she felt the cold touch of the blade against her side. Normally she would fight, but there was nothing she could do with a knife pressed against her. She had only just started breathing again, but she was choked with fear now.

He wasn’t a weak man, far from it. Some likened him to a chimp or an orangutan because of his thick body and square features. Still, it was easier if they didn’t fight him openly, and much more fun to watch them struggle aimlessly. The fear in their eyes was always most intoxicating. It was just unfortunate that he couldn’t feel their soft skin anymore, thanks to the way his acids had burned away the sensations in his fingers. It was well worth it to have acid covered blades to cut with. That always kept them from bleeding out.

His slow and deliberate tone as he bent to mutter in the girl’s ear gave away the reason for his nickname. “Hello, sweetheart, we’re going to play a game.” That voice, even just the sound of her attacker speaking was enough to make her feel nauseous. Drawl took his time in tying her up, Cerise struggling lightly. It wouldn’t do her any good, she was too small to do any real damage to the man.

Right now, the only thing she could do was observe him, as much as even his person was repulsive. His dark black hair was a greasy mess, peppered with gray although he didn’t look old. Even his eyes were black, glinting with an intent that made her entire body feel cold. Now he was sitting on the edge of her couch, playing with the point of his knife against his thumb. Just his clothes were enough to make someone uncomfortable, an oversized puke green jacket, brown pants, and black combat boots clearly meant to make him appear taller. The man’s skin was a dark brown, but his hands were discolored as well as discolored splotches on his wrists.

Drawl’s voice broke her observation, making her whimper. “Do you think your Vanderhottie will come quickly enough to save your pretty little lips? I might just cut them off…and he’d never get to kiss them then, would he?” Who was this guy even talking about Vander…oh. The man from earlier. She started to cry and plead. “No, I really don’t know him, please. My…my parents are rich…is…is it money you want?” Now she was sobbing, her voice broken. Cerise wished that she would have just listened to her parents and stayed in France where it was safe.

He snorted at the girl. She thought money mattered. Although, he was disappointed when she said she really didn’t know Vanderwood. The one good thing was that Vanderwood was the kind of guy who would do anything to protect a civilian, so he’d still come. The revenge wouldn’t be nearly as sweet, but he could always have his way with the girl afterwards. His slow voice held a snide tone as he replied to her desperate pleas. “Money doesn’t matter to me. I have plenty. Revenge, blood, people screaming in fear, that’s what I like. Speaking of…” He took out his phone and snapped a photo, captioning it ‘Hurry.’

***

His phone was buzzing again; he was almost there. It seemed like it was taking far too long to get there, even driving as fast as he was. Vanderwood risked checking his phone and his heart was at his feet, fear like a living thing in his chest. Seeing Cerise like that…This was his fault, and he had to get there in time to keep her from getting hurt. If she’s not already. The thought had him practically pressing the accelerator to the floor.

***

This had to be a dream…These kinds of things just didn’t happen in real life. Only on TV. She was brought back to reality as her attacker approached her, pressing the cool metal of his knife against her throat, a light burning sensation accompanying it. “I think I hear our Vanderhottie friend…” Drawl’s typically slow voice was dragging out even more as his smile spread wide. Cerise didn’t dare to make a noise or even to breathe too hard, fearful for her throat and her life.

Vanderwood realized quickly as he parked that his taser would do him no good since Drawl’s weapon of choice was also close range. He reached under the driver’s seat to grab the emergency gun stashed there. Thankfully, there was on in each of Seven’s cars as well as the ones he had on his own body. As soon as he had the weapon, Vanderwood nearly jumped out of the vehicle, kicking her door open, allowing him to keep use of his weapon, quickly scanning the room to point it at Drawl. Cerise desperately wanted to feel relieved as soon as she saw the source of the crashing, but there was still a knife to her throat, making her panic.

That knife against her throat had Vanderwood panicking every bit as much as she was. It was an unfamiliar feeling to him, true panic. He hadn’t felt fear like that in years. It nearly had him doing something rash, but he couldn’t afford to have feelings right now. “Leave her the fuck alone. She’s got nothing to do with me or you.” He was angry, pissed really, wanted to beat Drawl into a bloody pulp, but he had to get his hands on the smiling bastard first. “Didn’t you hear me? Get the fuck away from her. She’s a civilian, you ass.”

Drawl still wasn’t moving. He just kept smiling more and more, watching like he liked to. Vanderwood realized that clearly this wasn’t working. The feelings swirling around inside of him had his muscles taught and tensed, and they weren’t helping his focus. He took a deep breath, shoving them away. Finally, he looped the gun around his thumb, pulling his taser out of his pocket with his other hand to drop it to the floor. “Just step away from her, and you can have me. That’s what you want. You know you can’t touch her without your agency punishing you.”

Now Drawl finally moved, pulling away from Cerise to stand and approach Vanderwood. Cerise felt like she could finally breathe again once the knife was away from her throat, but all she could do now was watch the scene in front of her unfold, unable to move. She felt so useless, she couldn’t even call the authorities. That gave her an idea. She glanced over at her nightstand. Good, her phone was still there. Her attacker was advancing towards Vanderwood as she attempted to wiggle free from the rope binding her.

“I guess you are right…as much as I’d love to scar that pretty little skin.” The man’s voice made her skin crawl as she continued to attempt to reach her phone. Drawl was approaching Vanderwood warily. He was too short to reach the gun looped around Vanderwood’s thumb, so Vanderwood had to lower it for him. Drawl pressed his blade against the lower left side of the taller man’s abdomen, letting it press in just slightly, using his blade again for some leverage. Cerise had looked over from her attempts just in time to see it, causing her to gasp in surprise. Still, Vanderwood seemed to be taking it well enough.

The only reaction Vanderwood gave was a sharp intake of breath as the blade pierced him, acid burning and instantly cauterizing the wound. He knew what he needed to do. Although Vanderwood wasn’t fast, Drawl was even slower, and he was able to grab the man’s wrist, letting the blade press in even farther in favor of grabbing Drawl’s throat, squeezing his wrist until Drawl couldn’t hold on to the knife anymore. It clattered to the floor as Vanderwood applied the same treatment to his neck. Cerise had never seen anything like this, and she watched as he gained the upper hand over her attacker. She wanted to look away, she really did, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the scene. Then the man went limp in Vanderwood’s grasp. Was he dead?

Vanderwood grimaced at Drawl as he dropped him onto the ground. The creep’s smile hadn’t faltered the entire time. He didn’t have much time now, knowing that Drawl had a partner. How had he even been alone here in the first place? It didn’t matter; time was of the essence. Vanderwood moved to untie Cerise, and that was what finally made her able to tear her eyes away from the scene, jumping a little at his voice, even though it was far more welcome than the voice of the other man. “I’m not going to hurt you, alright? But you’re going to have to trust me, because I need to get you out of here.” He was trying to keep his tone as calm and even as possible, even though he was irritated and panicked beyond belief. She wasn’t used to these kinds of experiences, so he had to be gentle. “If Drawl was here, backup isn’t far behind, so we need to leave fast.” Cerise nodded, her voice still shaky. “O-okay…” As soon as she was free from the ropes, she made a grab for her phone, yanking the charger out of the wall.

Irritation was very much his enemy at the moment as he snorted at that damn phone of hers. He was going to have to take it from her later, but now he needed to get them out of there. “The black car outside, get in.” His tone was brusque because it had to be. Drawl needed to be dealt with permanently, and it was always his disgusting job to take care of that. Vanderwood grabbed the gun and taser before returning to look down at Drawl’s limp body.

She did as she was told, not wanting to stick around and tempt fate. Cerise shivered as she felt the nighttime winter air hit her skin, making her way to the black car and quickly hopping in. Her bare feet felt like ice cubes. Was she really going to let this stranger take her away from her apartment? He had just saved her life, even if it sounded like he’d been somewhat the reason she was in trouble anyway, but she trusted him. She had to…and there was just something about him that she couldn’t quite shake.

Vanderwood was bending down to finish the job when he heard it, the sound of another vehicle’s brakes grinding the car to a halt. Damn it. He was out of time. Vanderwood ran out of the house to see Jessica on the way out of her car. He flipped her off before hopping into his, putting pedal to the metal. “Hang on, Cerise.” There wasn’t even time to put his seatbelt on before they were peeling off away from the scene.

Cerise held on to the ceiling handle tightly as soon as he’d gotten into the car, although she hadn’t managed to put her seatbelt on either. He was driving like a bat out of Hell, but she couldn’t really complain. She just wanted away from the man that had attacked her, silently staring out of the window and trying to make sense of everything in her head.

He was focused on getting away and to Seven’s garage, running through an action plan as he went. They would need to switch cars and head out of town to lie low somewhere. She was in far more danger than any civilian ever should be, and there was a lot of guilt there, but he didn’t have time for it right now. Thankfully, his go bag was already in the red car, so they could switch over pretty quickly. His eyes searched the rearview mirror to see that no one was tailing them, allowing him to slow down and drive far more legally.

She was quiet, reflective even, as he watched her from the corner of his eyes. This was probably the biggest shock of her life, and he had done this to her. Cerise was thinking, why her? What luck was this? Her phone made her jump when she felt it vibrate in her lap. Vanderwood watched as she put in her pass code and immersed herself in the world of what he assumed was social media. Her fingers were tapping at her phone’s screen at an alarming speed. She was clearly freaked out, it was only too obvious. On one side, he wanted to destroy her phone since it and his stupidity had gotten them into this mess, but on the other, it seemed to be helping her, somewhat of an escape, which he only understood all too well.

He sighed and bit his tongue before he began to speak, feeling like the words needed to be said, like he was compelled to comfort her. “I’m sorry…I got you into this. But I’ll keep you safe, I swear to God, I will.” He felt like complete shit for doing this to her, and although he didn’t trust any God, he would swear to all of them just to make the point to her that he was going to protect her. She was under his protection now, even though she shouldn’t have had to be.

Cerise looked up when Vanderwood spoke, not really knowing how to respond. Keep her safe? Were there more of those creeps…? “Are they…will they just leave you…us alone?” He had to shake his head at her question, as much as he wished he could just drop her off back at home and she would be fine, it simply wasn’t the case. “We’re going to have to go on the run until I can backtrack them or they find us, and I terminate them. Undoubtedly, Drawl’s got a hit out on me now…the guy that attacked you. I didn’t have time to take care of him before his partner showed up.”

Take care of him? So, the guy wasn’t dead, but Vanderwood had intended to kill him. The thought made her shiver more than the cool air did. Vanderwood thought that all of that was probably terrifying enough to listen to, and he didn’t want her to be afraid of him, but it felt wrong not to be honest. She had her eyes trained on him, listening intently as he talked. “I’m a secret agent. They’re from a rival agency. They found pictures of you and me on the internet and used the geotags to find you. So…until they’re dead, I’m going to take care of you.” It wasn’t up for debate, not that he thought she was going to argue.

Vanderwood pulled into Seven’s garage. It only made sense that Cerise was terrified, and he was going to need to be a little gentler than his usual to make her able to trust him, so he did his best not to sound gruff, as much as he was tense and frustrated. “Stay in this car until I say to move, alright?”

Cerise couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as she thought over what he’d said, staying in the car as he’d instructed and fiddling with her phone to pass the time. The pictures…this was her fault. It’s not like she knew that he was a secret agent, though, that wasn’t something that came up in real life…being tied up by a psycho, running into secret agents. Did that mean…she had to be on the run for a while? With him? In any normal circumstance, she’d be all for a road trip…and with a cute guy, no less. This wasn’t that situation, though.

He tried not to take too long as he went inside to exchange keys, grabbing the ones for the red car. Vanderwood harshly woke Seven and explained the situation, getting the kid to begrudgingly agree to loan him the red car mostly because they didn’t have much time to figure out anything else. Then Vanderwood returned to the garage, opening the door for her. “Alright, we’re moving to the red car.” He offered his hand to help her out. It was hurting him so badly that this was happening. She was just a normal person; she wasn’t a part of this, and he’d made her a part of it.  

She hesitated before taking his hand, letting him help her out of the car. As soon as her bare feet hit the cold concrete she remembered again that she hadn’t grabbed shoes…or clothes for that matter. Clutching her phone, she looked down. Yep. Still in her pajamas. In the wintertime. Good job, Cerise! She wanted to slap herself for not thinking to at least grab her coat by the door.

Vanderwood finally took stock of her clothes when he saw her react to the cold concrete floor and heat instantly went up into his face. She wasn’t even his ‘type’ and yet his heart was doing gymnastics as he looked at her. Her ‘pajamas’ were just a pink flowy tank top and shorts combination, the top not quite fully covering her midriff. His face turned bright red as he took off his jacket and draped It over her shoulders gently. “Wear this until the car heats up…” The red-faced agent opened the passenger side of the red vehicle for her. “I’ll get you some new clothes to wear once we get to the next town.” He’d also need to take care of her damn phone, sooner rather than later.

His jacket was huge on her, as well as heavy. It might as well have been a blanket, but she was grateful for it either way. She wrapped it around herself as she got into the other car. “Thanks.” The promise of new clothes was another thing she was grateful for. Cerise definitely didn’t want to be seen in public with just her pajamas on…even if she did look amazingly cute in them. Still not something she should be seen in public in.

Once he’d helped her into the car, Vanderwood got in and started it up, letting it get going on warming up. They didn’t have a lot of time before he was certain the rival agency would have people watching traffic cam footage and potentially trailing them, but the geotags on her social media needed to be turned off before she had the chance to post again. She needed a new ip address too. “I need you to hand me your phone.” Vanderwood was gentle and matter of fact about it as he held out his hand expectantly.

“My phone…?” She stared at him blankly. He wanted her phone? That wasn’t going to happen. Her phone was a part of her, and she wasn’t about to hand it over to someone she barely knew. “You mean this?” Cerise kept eye contact with him as she pulled her phone into his eyesight, letting him get a good look at it before defiantly shoving the phone into her shorts, beneath the strap of her panties. If he wanted her phone, he was going to have to work for it.

Holy Jesus his face was red, and he felt like a complete mess. There was no way he could put his hand down her shorts. Hell, he wasn’t even sure with as irritated as he was that he could control himself right now. That defiance was…sexy…coming from this cute little lady, and he had to shut down his brain. Vanderwood coughed softly, shaking his head to clear it of any dirty thoughts before he could explain, trying to reason with her. “I need to give you a new one, and in order to move all your information to the new one, I’m going to need the old one. Need to turn off your geotags too. So, you give me the phone, or they find us. Every second we wait, the more danger we’re in.” Hopefully that would be enough to get through to her on some level.

“I don’t want a new one. Find another way.” Cerise huffed and turned her head away from him, crossing her arms. She knew that judging by how red he had turned, he wasn’t about to reach into her shorts to grab her phone. If he was that serious about it, he would find another way around it, because there was no way in Hell she was giving anyone her phone. She may be in danger, but her phone was her life.  

Vanderwood internally groaned. Cerise was going to test his patience during this whole situation, he had a feeling. She looked cute, but she was definitely a lot more than that. “And I don’t want to die.” He had to think fast on how he could get her to agree willingly. Her phone seemed pretty new, but hadn’t a new model just come out? He seemed to remember Seven going on about the new capabilities of some smart phone. “How about, I buy you any model phone you want, with whatever accessories?” That would probably peak her interest.

He was right. That caught her attention, and she whipped her head back to him. “…any model?” If he really meant that…she was going to go for the newer model of her phone that had just come out a few days prior. Cerise wasn’t able to get it due to budgeting, and she wanted to show her parents that she could be responsible with her money. Well…not that she’d have to worry about that now since her purse was still at her apartment. She pulled her phone back out and handed it to him, lingering for a moment before she left her most prized possession with a total stranger. This must be what mothers feel like when they leave their child in a daycare…”You win…but you better make good on that promise.” She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms again as though making a point.

That whole time he’d had to sit patiently and wait for her to deliberate while her phone was right there for the taking. It wasn’t like him to be bashful with women, and he was anxious to get moving, but he just couldn’t do that with her. He rationalized to himself that it was because he knew he needed her trust. Finally, she handed it over. “I will, right after we get you some different clothes, we’ll get you a phone.”

As soon as he took her phone from her, his face grew red again. Even through his leather gloves, he could feel that her phone was warm from having been in her shorts. He coughed softly and got to work, grabbing a throw away from the glove compartment, easy enough to do when one’s arms were as long as his were. She was short enough that opening the compartment didn’t threaten her knees too, thankfully. After hooking the phones up to each other, he transferred everything before going through her apps, turning all of the geotags off. She had a shit ton of them, it was insane. Then he handed the throw away phone to her. “You can use this until we can get your new one. This one…” He wiggled her old phone. “Is getting thrown out the window on the way out of town. Buckle up.”

Cerise grimaced at the plain phone he had given her. It was so…ugly and undecorated. “This isn’t cute at all…” She complained as she held it at arm’s length, examining it. When he mentioned throwing her phone out of the window, she winced, but it was for the better if she wanted a brand-new phone. Cerise would just have to deal with it, not think about it. She could do this. She could. Cerise buckled her seat belt and waited for them to leave. The car was getting warmer, which she was thankful for, and his jacket certainly helped.

Vanderwood mumbled what was meant to be an internal thought, thankful that it was hopefully quiet enough that she didn’t overhear. “Nowhere near as cute as you.” What the Hell was he doing flirting with her? He pulled out of Seven’s garage, heading on the way out of town. As he drove, he watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Cerise frowned at his mumbling. If he had something to say, he should say it, but she didn’t bother to say what she was thinking either, too worn out to care.

After a little while, Vanderwood deigned to speak, not sure why he wanted to. Small talk wasn’t exactly something he was very good at or used to. “I’m sorry if the jacket smells.” He’d been smoking so long that he was used to his own smell, but she probably wasn’t. Although he was very careful to keep his jacket clean and cared for, it probably had at least some residual scent of cigarettes. Cerise just shook her head before resting it against the window. “It’s not bad…” Her answer ended with a yawn. His jacket did smell a little like cigarette smoke, but she could tell that he took care of it.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, him watching her and her too tired to even check the phone or any of her social medias. Vanderwood was thinking just how incredibly beautiful she was…and how incredibly stupid it was for him to be thinking about that. This was going to be difficult for him. She made him feel way different than any other woman, and that might not bode well for staying unattached, even if he was convinced that it was just part of his sex addiction not having been assuaged for a while. At any rate, his job wouldn’t allow attachment, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten her in enough trouble already, so Vanderwood was going to do his best to have as little contact with her as he could manage. Just enough to keep her safe. He also couldn’t report that he was with her at all. No, he was alone.

Cerise was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and this man went through all of that to rescue her, so she had no reason to believe he was of any threat, allowing her to relax for the time being. By now the car was toasty, and she pulled her legs up in the seat so she could cover herself completely in his jacket before she let sleep finally claim her.

She looked so small and peaceful sleeping curled up like that. He felt a strange tightness in his chest looking at her wrapped up in his jacket. Vanderwood realized that he should focus on the road, essentially giving himself tunnel vision other than checking the rearview mirrors for anyone potentially tailing them. Once they were about halfway to the next town, he tossed her phone out of the window and onto the side of the road. It wouldn’t be terribly long before they made it to the next town, but it felt like he had a long road ahead of him, at least figuratively.

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