#she asked him to spar and kicked him really hard in the mouth and he asked her out while they waited for the paramedics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mama-qwerty · 7 months

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Heart to Heart

This was written WAAAAAAAY back when I first got into Sonic, when Callie was going to be Maria, and Shadow was gonna come in. It references ideas I had for my big Shadow story, which may or may not get written now, but I think you can infer the details from the piece.

It's been rotting away on my hard drive, so I thought I'd toss it up. Not sold on Shadow's character portrayal here, but, as I said, this was really early on in things and I was just playing with a scene in my head.

~~~~~

Shadow sat on the deck steps, listening to the noises coming from the house. Silver’s sobs had quieted, but he could still hear the boy sniffling, his voice trembling as he spoke. Another voice answered him, calmer, soothing. Silver responded, and then there was quiet.

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t intend to hurt Silver, but he had anyway. Something inside him had urged him on. A whisper in the back of his mind. As though someone else had taken control of his body.

Was his chip still active? Those cold, hard thoughts had surfaced as they sparred, identifying Silver as ‘weak’ and ‘pathetic’. Shadow had teleported without thinking, landing a strong kick to the back of Silver’s head, sending the boy to the ground face-first, hard. Images flashed through Shadow’s mind then, of grabbing the back of Silver’s head and smashing it over and over into the hard dirt.

Weakness was not to be tolerated. It was to be eliminated without mercy.

Before Shadow could act on it, Silver had uttered a muffled cry, bringing a hand to his nose. It came away bright red, and Shadow had become himself again. Cold fear flowed into his belly, and he stood shocked at what he had done. Silver sat back on his ankles, lifting his head to the sky and releasing a loud sob, which brought Callie running.

She lifted Silver into her arms, ignoring the blood dripping on her shirt, and had shot Shadow a look the boy couldn’t identify. Anger? Shock? Fear? The one thing he was sure of was its meaning—don’t go anywhere.

He rubbed his hands down his face, uttering a soft moan in the back of his throat. All his life he’d wanted his freedom. To be out of the ARK and doing what normal kids do. To have Ria—Callie, her name was Callie now—with him and together they’d have fun and do things normal people do.

But he wasn’t normal. Tower had done things to him, had made him do things, that were terrible. He still had nightmares. Thoughts he was sure weren’t his. Memories that didn’t belong. There was so much stuff in his head, and he wished so hard he could get rid of most of it.

And that was just one part of his problems. The other was Silver. Callie kept referring to him as Shadow’s brother, which was absolutely not true. They weren’t brothers, Shadow didn’t have to care about him, the boy was simply an intruder in what should have been a nice reunion with Ria. Callie.

Silver was too needy. Too touchy.

Too weak.

Shadow closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to go down that mental road again. Stop it.

The kitchen door opened, and footsteps moved toward him. Callie lowered herself to sit next to him, elbows resting on her knees, her fingers intertwined.

They sat in silence for a minute. He dared a quick glance to his left and found her simply staring at her hands. Her face unreadable.

“How much trouble am I in?” he asked, his voice quiet.

She twisted her mouth and he smiled to himself in spite of the situation. It was something she always did when thinking. Moments like this reminded him that she really was still the person he loved back at the ARK. His Ria.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” she said, turning to him. Her voice was soft, no hint of anger. His smile dropped and he turned away.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“I want you to tell me.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanna hear both sides. So spill.”

He sighed, letting his head fall into his hands again. “I kicked him and he fell on his face.”

“Okay, that I figured out,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Rewind a bit. How did it start? What were you two doing?”

Shadow lifted his head and stared out into the trees. “He wanted to learn to fight. To get better with his powers.”

She gave a short nod. “Probably not a bad idea, actually.”

“That’s what I thought. So I brought him outside to do a little sparring.” He turned to her. “Nothing major, I wasn’t really gonna hurt him or anything. But I was gonna throw some punches so he could practice blocking.” He gave her a pleading look. “I really didn’t want to hurt him. You have to believe me.”

She looked in his eyes for a second before smiling. “I believe you, Fuzzbutt. What happened next?”

He turned back to the trees, brow furrowing. “We did some back and forth for a bit, and he was getting pretty good at blocking and redirecting my punches. I added some kicks and he was doing really well. He managed to knock me down, and it was a pretty good hit. That’s when . . .” His brows drew together.

“When what?” she asked, her voice soft. “What happened, Shadow?”

He shook his head. “I . . . I don’t know. Suddenly it wasn’t fun anymore. I felt like I . . . wasn’t in control. I felt . . . cold. I could see myself getting up, and Silver must have seen something wrong because his face changed. He looked kinda scared. I teleported behind him, and kicked him really hard in the back of the head.” He grabbed his arms to hug himself. “My thoughts were so . . . violent. Like I really wanted to hurt him. Bad.”

Callie sat quiet for a minute. “Then what happened?”

He shrugged. “Then he screamed and I saw the blood and suddenly I felt like myself again. And I was so scared.” He turned to her. “Not of getting in trouble, but because I had done that. Without thinking. I hurt him, and would have kept hurting him if he hadn’t cried.” He released his arms and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t get his voice out of my head.”

“Silver’s?”

Shadow lifted his head to look at Callie, his muzzle pulled into a hateful snarl. “Tower’s. It’s his voice I hear when I have those violent urges. Those horrible images in my head. ‘Strength is power, Shadow. Weakness must be eliminated. To be weak is to be dead.’” He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “He made me this way. Messed me up. I’m not a person anymore. Just some weapon to hurt people. Even when I don’t want to.”

“Hey,” Callie said, taking his hands away from his eyes and holding them in her own. “Look at me.” He opened his eyes and she locked them with hers. “You are not just a weapon. You’re a boy who was put through some horrible things, and you’re dealing with the trauma from that. I wish I could get you the help you need, but I can’t. I’m trying to read everything I can get my hands on about dealing with kids with trauma, but yours is such a unique case I’m not sure any of them could really help.”

She released his hands to cup his face. “Shadow, you’re my boy, and I love you so much. I know you’re hurting and dealing with such hard things. I wish I could take all that on myself. It kills me that I can’t. But I want you to know that I’m here whenever you’re struggling. You find me, and you tell me what you’re feeling. I’ll help you however I can.”

He pulled his face from her hands and turned away. “That doesn’t do any good when these thoughts appear out of nowhere. I was fine, until I wasn’t.” He screwed his eyes closed tightly. “What would have happened if he hadn’t screamed when he did? Would I have . . .”

“Stop it.”

He turned to look at her, brows furrowed.

“Shadow, I can’t pretend to know what happened to you,” she said, her voice quiet. “What they did to you. Tails said there was a lot of code on your chip. He managed to disable it as well as he could, but we didn’t have much time at the lab. It’s possible that some part of it is still active. But it’s also possible that what you’re experiencing is simply . . .” She rolled her hand, as though looking for the right word. “A conditioned response. A kind of muscle memory. You were ‘programmed’ to respond a certain way to certain stimuli. When you sparred with Silver, it’s very possible your training kicked in automatically. When you took that hit, you went into a sort of survival mode and reacted.”

Shadow turned back, his head lowered and looking at his shoes. It made sense. It was possible. “But that doesn’t explain the thoughts I had once he was down. If it was just survival mode, why did I . . . want to keep hurting him?”

“Because that’s what Tower would have wanted,” she said, her mouth twisting at the taste of the man’s name. “And you were programmed to his liking. But,” she said, giving him a half smile, “you didn’t follow through.”

“I thought about it.”

“But you didn’t. I was there from the very beginning, remember? I know how fast your reflexes are. If you really wanted to hurt him more, it wouldn’t have mattered if he cried. You wouldn’t have given him a chance to. Yes, you had those thoughts, but you did not act on them.”

He thought about this. That made sense too.

“Honey, I know you’re hurting. I know you’re having nightmares you don’t tell me about. I hear you at night. Sometimes you cry out in your sleep. And all I can do is sit by your bed and hold your hand.” She smiled at his shocked face. “You didn’t know I did that, did you?” He shook his head. “I sit with you until you calm down and fall into a deeper, more restful sleep.” She leaned closer to kiss his forehead. “I really wish I could scoop out all those bad thoughts of yours and take them on myself. So you could be free.”

He said nothing, but wiped the tears that had started running down his cheeks.

“You need to let me in, baby,” she said softly, running a hand down his spines. “I want to help you, but I feel like you’re intentionally keeping me out. Please, talk to me. Let me know what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling. We can figure this out. We’re stronger together than we are apart. Remember?” He nodded, swiping his arm beneath his nose. “Because we’re a family. You, me, and your brother.”

“He’s not my brother,” Shadow hissed, suddenly angry. He stood and moved to the edge of the deck. “Stop calling him that. He’s just someone who lives in the same house.”

“Shadow.”

Her tone was not one of anger, or of frustration. It was calm, but firm. He turned to her, brows furrowed. “He’s not.”

“And I’m not your mother,” she said, shrugging. “If you really want to argue semantics, I’m not your mother or your sister. I’m just some girl who was tasked with looking after you way back when.”

He crossed his arms, turning away. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

He turned back, muzzle pulled unto an angry snarl. “Because you were mine before you were his!” he hissed, the tears returning. “You were mine and he’s here calling you ‘mom’ and acting like he belongs here and getting all these hugs and kisses and it’s not fair I feel like the odd one out when you were mine first!”

Callie’s eyebrows shot up, as the true understanding of his moods clicked home. Yes, he was dealing with all the crap Tower did to him, but beneath that was the very real, very simple pain of feeling like the person he loved most in the world suddenly didn’t love him as much as she used to. That some other boy had taken his place within her heart. In her life.

“Oh, Shadow,” she said, turning toward him. “Oh honey. Is that what this is about? You think I love Silver more?”

He shrugged, wiping at his cheeks. “He’s not messed up. He’s not dangerous. He’s--”

“A refugee from a post-apocalyptic world,” she finished, her voice soft. Shadow gave her a look of shock, and she nodded. “He’d been on his own since he was five, in a world that was pretty much turned to ash from something that happened before he was born. There was little food or water, and he had to worry about roving groups of bandits finding him and slitting his throat for whatever meager supplies he had.”

He moved closer and sat back next to her on the steps. “I didn’t know that.”

“He was incredibly underweight when he came here. Dehydrated too. And scared, oh the boy was so scared because that’s the only life he knew up to that point. He’s so affectionate with me because he was extremely touch-starved. He’d literally never had a positive experience with physical touch since he lost his family when he was just a little boy. That’s why he’s such a snuggler.”

Shadow lowered his head to look at his shoes. “I guess that makes sense.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Honey, I love Silver. In a lot of ways, he helped me work through your loss when he showed up. But baby, he never replaced you. He was somehow thrown into this world, quite violently actually, and he needed someone to take care of him. And I did. And I love that boy so much.”

She tucked a knuckle under his chin to make him look at her.

“And I love you so much. It’s not a competition. There’s not some set amount of love in my heart, like a pie that needs to be handed out in even slices. I love you both so, so much. You’re both my boys. My sons.” She ran a hand down his spines. “Now, it’s okay if you don’t want to call me Mom. It’s even okay if you don’t want to call Silver your brother. I can respect that. But don’t you dare think I love either one of you more than the other. You’re my Fuzzbutt. He’s my Bug. And there’s more than enough room in my heart for both of you.”

“Mom?” a timid voice from the kitchen door called. The two turned to see Silver standing there, half-in and half-out of the house. “The bleeding stopped.”

“I told you it would,” she said, reaching a hand toward him. “C’mere and lemme see.”

The gray hedgehog walked out, flicking his eyes quickly to Shadow, before moving them back to Callie. He lowered the ice pack he’d been holding to his muzzle. “My nose hurts.”

“Yeah, it’s probably going to be bruised for a few days,” she said, gently inspecting his nose and muzzle. “Just keep holding the ice pack on it for a bit longer. It should help with the swelling.”

“Okay,” he said, lifting the ice pack back up. “Can I have a popsicle?”

“Hmm, why don’t you wait until I come in? I think we’re just about done.”

“’Kay.” The boy turned and walked toward the door. He pulled it open and turned back. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

Another eye flick toward Shadow, and then Silver was gone, back inside the house.

“So how much trouble am I in?” Shadow asked, pulling his shoulders up.

“Well, that depends,” Callie said, resting an elbow on her knee and propping her chin in a hand. “Did you actually listen to what I was saying, or did you just tune me out and nod in the appropriate places?” She bumped his knee with hers. “’Cause I know you do that sometimes.”

He gave a little laugh. “I listened. I didn’t know any of that about Silver.”

“Where did you think he came from?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. The same place Knuckles and Tails did? Or he could have been on Earth for a long time, like Sonic.”

“Nope. He came about a year an a half ago.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Callie sighed. “I don’t want to punish you for something you might not have been able to control. But if I don’t do anything, Silver might think that I don’t think what you did was a big deal.”

He shrugged. “You can go ahead and punish me. I feel bad about what I did. A punishment seems right.”

She looked at him, a small smile on her lips. “You’re a good boy, Shadow.” He shrugged, his muzzle burning pink. “Okay, no video games. You set and clear the table every night, and help me do the dishes. For one week. Does that sound fair?” He nodded. “Do I have to tell you to apologize to your bro—ah, Silver?” He shook his head. “Good. Let’s head inside.”

They walked into the kitchen, and Callie pulled two popsicles out of the freezer. She handed them to Shadow, who walked into the living room, where Silver was watching TV.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding a blue popsicle out to the gray boy.

Silver flicked his eyes between the frozen treat and Shadow, finally reaching forward to take the offered pop after tossing his ice pack on the table in front of them. “Thanks.”

Shadow climbed onto the couch, sucking on his own popsicle. “I’m sorry I hit you like that.” Silver didn’t respond. “I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

They sat in silence for a minute before Silver spoke. “You changed right before you kicked me.”

Shadow turned to him. “What?”

“You changed,” Silver said, licking his popsicle. Blue food coloring was already staining his muzzle. “Your face. It got kinda scary looking. Like you were really mad.” He turned back toward the TV.

“Oh.”

Another few minutes passed. Silver finished his popsicle and now chewed on the stick. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “Do you hate me?”

Shadow jerked his head to the side. “What?”

“You don’t seem to like me very much,” Silver said, turning his golden eyes toward the dark hedgehog. “I’m not sure what I did to make you hate me. Whatever it was, I’m really sorry.”

Shadow chewed the last of his popsicle, considering what the younger boy said. “I don’t hate you, Silver.” He sighed. “I guess I was jealous.”

Silver cocked an eyebrow. “Of me? Why?”

Shadow shrugged. “Because Callie loves you so much.”

“She loves you too. When she found out you were still alive, she got really upset. She nearly beat up that commander guy to try and find you.”

“She did?”

Silver nodded. “It was kinda funny, but kinda scary. I’ve never seen Mom that mad before. And even when Tom got mad at her for not telling all she knew about you, she was still really focused on finding you. She never gave up. Even when you were beating up Sonic and Knuckles. She always wanted to get to you.”

Shadow thoughtfully chewed his popsicle stick. He knew she tried to get him to remember her during that . . . incident, but didn’t know any of the details.

“She really loves you, Shadow,” Silver said, his voice soft. “I know it bothers her that she can’t help you like you need. But she would do anything to keep you safe. You have to know that.”

Shadow nodded. “Yeah. I know.” He looked at the boy next to him. “She really loves you too. She told me about where you came from. How terrible it was. I’m sorry I never asked about it.”

Silver shrugged. “I don’t like to think about it, let alone talk about it,” he said, tossing his stick onto the melting ice pack on the coffee table. “It was . . . bad. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. But being here is so much better. I love it here.” He paused, his cheeks turning pink. “I love Mom. She was so nice, and took care of me right from the beginning. She made me feel safe. That’s . . . that’s something I hadn’t felt since my . . . my family was with me.”

Shadow smiled. “Yeah, she was with me for as far back as I can remember. She sang to me, and taught me, and made the time at the ARK fun. Well, as much fun as we could have, anyway. She was my only friend.” He furrowed his brows. “My only family.”

Silver was watching him, his brow pinched. “Shadow?”

The dark hedgehog looked over. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we could start over? Like, try to be more like friends?”

Shadow stared at the boy next to him for a long moment, before a smile curled his lips. He held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Shadow.”

A wide smile spread on the gray hedgehog’s lips. “I’m Silver,” he said, grabbing the offered hand and shaking it quickly. “Nice to meet you.”

#silver the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #callie macpherson #sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction

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cauldronblssd · 7 months

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Found in the Sunlight - Ch 11

Azriel accidentally punches Elain.

Read on AO3

Excerpt:

Elain felt Nesta and Azriel watching her as punched over and over again, silent as an assassin. Each punched landed into the mats that Cassian held in his hands, creating a soft thudding sound. Her hands had grown stiff and her chest constrticted. Slowly, she calmed her breathing, letting her shoulders relax as she stopped punching into Cassian’s outstretched arms.

She looked back up at Cassian and he grinned. “You’ve been spending too much time with Az. The quiet ones scare me.”

She smiled back weakly, feeling her muscles shaking in the aftermath of her adrenaline rush. “That’s because you have never once kept your mouth shut, Cass.”

Cassian smiled wickedly at her, one she knew well from his verbal jabs with Nesta. “Sounds like you’re asking for another round. Give me thirty kicks.”

She glowered at him, but she doubted it was effective. After facing down her sister every day, Cassian would hardly see her as imposing. “You’re dead to me.”

“Show me you mean it, Elain.”

Without further preamble, Elain began kicking her legs towards the mats, alternating as she had her fists. When she was done, Cassian released her to start her stretches. She bent forward, reaching one hand towards her foot while she lifted her other arm in the air. She felt the stretch along her chest, the satisfying burn after a too long training session with her sadistic sister and brother-in-law. Azriel and Nesta panted as they punched and kicked towards each other, having abandoned their weapons a while ago.

Elain stood back up, stretching her arms overhead, watching her sister and friend fight. Nesta’s eye were focused, every movement strong and sure. She looked every bit the warrior she had trained to be.

Suddenly, she felt a stinging pain flare across her face. The force of it felt like it rattled her brain in her skull, knocking her backwards. Quickly, Cassian had rushed to catch her before she fell to the ground.

“What the fuck!” Someone screamed.

She reached for her cheek, feeling a tender pain along the left side of her face. Her fingers came away wet with her own blood.

“Shit, Elain, are you alright? That was a hard hit.” Cassian looked down at her in concern, his arms bracing her on either side. She felt dizzy, but she nodded.

Cassian her friend had disappeared and the general had taken his place.

“Follow my finger.” He ordered as he waved it in front of her eyes. She must have passed the test, because he nodded. He continued to drill her with questions for several mintues as he checked her over.

She turned, and saw Nesta standing in front of her and Azriel looming behind, almost completely shrouded in shadows. His jaw tightened as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.

“I’m fine, really.” It didn’t sound entirely convincing to her own ears, as her voice cracked. Cassian and Nesta gently led her to sit against the wall.

Azriel crouched on his feet in front of her, his wings held in close behind him. His hazel eyes scanned her over rapidly, his brows pinched in concern. “Elain, I’m so sorry. I could have hurt you. My shadows, I send them away when we spar, Nesta says it’s cheating.”

Elain weakly shook her head. “It’s okay, I wasn’t paying attention. I shouldn’t have been so close.”

Azriel gently grasped her chin, turning her face each direction as he examined her injury. “You’ve got a cut on your cheek and you’ll have one hell of a bruise. I don’t think it’s broken.”

Elain leaned her head back against the wall, struggling to keep her face impassive at the pressure in her head. “I’ve had worse, Az, really, it’s fine. Don’t get broody about it.”

Azriel stared back at her. Brooding.

Elain held her hand out. “Take me to the kitchen and get me cleaned up?”

Azriel very hesitantly took her hand, as if he might crush it. He easily pulled her off the floor with one large hand before slipping his arm around her waist and leading her inside. She leaned into him, letting him guide the way as she struggled to focus on one spot in front of her. Gods, Azriel is strong. He got in one punch and she’s seeing stars.

He gently pulled out a chair at the dining table and guided her into the seat. Satisfied that she wouldn’t topple over, he stepped to the kitchen to run a towel under cold water. He came over and gently head the towel to her cheek. To her own embarrassment, she whimpered. Azriel curled into himself all the more in response.

Trying to lighten the mood, she smiled at him. “I knew you were mad at me, Az, but I thought you’d at least give me a fair fight.”

Azriel looked at her and paused. His voice came out low and cold, as if all the warmth of her friend had curled up inside of him the moment he landed that punch. “I’m not mad at you.”

Elain sighed, feeling both irritated and strangely sentimental as she stared at the beautiful male sitting before her. “Yes, you are. We’re friends, you can just say you’re mad at me.”

He frowned. He still leaned in front of her, examining her as she spoke. “You’re sure you’re lucid?”

She flicked his cheek. “I’m accepting the bond, moving to Autumn, which you hate, and putting myself in danger. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

He sighed, his wings twitching behind him. “I’m not good at this.”

“Try.” Elain put her hand on top of the one Azriel held to her face. He tensed, but didn’t move his hand away.

#elucien fic #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #azriel #cassian

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shining-gem34 · 1 month

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A "Friendly" Spar

A single swing of the swordmaster's blade slices through the air leaving a trail of frost.

When her sword clashes against another, the sparks fly between them. Jingliu's rose-pink eyes meet the arrogant craftsman's steel-purple eyes looking down at her. Neither side is giving in, they hold their swords firmly and their determination to win this match is unyielding. A bead of sweat drips down Yingxing's forehead from the exertion yet he grins.

“I’m honored to be taken seriously by the Sword Champion,” Yingxing said sincerely, but anyone outside of their circle would interpret his tone as taunting.

“You’ve improved. Did you finally find time to practice your swordplay between crafting Curios? Or...” Jingliu praises, her gaze shifting to the presence behind her. She can imagine it now: a single leap charging toward her like a deluge.

She overwhelms Yingxing's strength with a hard shove forward. The blade skids along the edge of his sword, gathering the momentum to push him back and make him falter. A gasp escapes the craftsman's mouth, stumbling backward but Jingliu gives him no time to recover. She raises her leg high to deliver a swift kick to his abdomen and push him back even farther away.

Jingliu pays no heed to him, turning around to dodge the incoming spear aiming for her. Briefly, she meets the glowing teal eyes of her second opponent before she swings her sword. Bringing forth a heavy strike, he perfectly blocks her attack with his spear.

“...Did you offer to be his helper, Yinyue Jun? I never knew you had some experience with swords.” Jingliu questions, properly facing the stoic face of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara. “Silent, are we?”

“You know the answer to that, Jinglilu.” Yinyue Jun says instead.

They pull their weapons back.

A pause hangs between them, never looking away from each other as they slip back into position. Yinyue Jun raises his spear, body tensed compared to Jingliu's lax posture and her sword resting behind her. Then the High Elder leaps off his feet and thrusts his spear forward only for Jingliu to parry his attack.

She responds with a swing of her sword, bringing forth a heavy strike at him. Yinyue Jun perfectly blocks her attack again, but his opponent doesn’t give him any rest. A single strike becomes many, forcing the High Elder to take the defense and search for an opening under Jingliu's relentless assault.

“Impressive as usual.” Jing Yuan observes, watching the “friendly” sparring match unfold. He glances at Yingxing sitting up and teases, “How are you feeling, old man?”

“Quiet, Jing Yuan.” Yingxing hisses, rubbing his aching back. He groans and winces, “She really doesn’t hold back.”

“What did you expect, Yingxing?” Baiheng chirps, taking a seat next to Jing Yuan. She places her gourd next to her and reminds him, “Jingliu knows what you’re capable of. That’s why she didn’t go easy on you.”

“Hi, Baiheng. How was your day? Mine was great, thank you for asking.” Yingxing said sarcastically, earning a giggle from Baiheng and a chuckle from Jing Yuan. He looks at the ongoing match.

The tip of the spear rises under to meet the swing of Jingliu sword. Garnet eyes widened by a fraction when she’s pushed back, momentarily stunned by the recoil of their weapons. Then her eyes narrowed, recovering quickly as she propels herself forward.

At the same time, Yinyue Jun twirls his spear and switches it to his dominant hand. Once more, he leaps off his feet with his spear poised and ready to settle the match.

Jingliu, understanding this will be the final strike, tightens her grip on her sword.

Their audience watches with bated breath as the two warriors meet again. A surge of ice and water clashes briefly, making clouds of dust rise around them. The clanging of metal can be heard for a moment until there is silence. The dust returns to the ground, and frozen droplets of water fall to the floor soon to be melted under the sun heat.

What greeted them was the tip of Jingliu sword pressed against the High Elder's throat. Yinyue Jun's spear is inches away from stopping at her abdomen.

“Do you yield, High Elder?” Jingliu asks tauntingly, garnet eyes almost glowing an eerie red.

Yinyue Jun contemplated his options before he sighs in annoyance and nods, “I yield, Jingliu.”

“Match set! Lady Jingliu has won this round!” Baiheng announces cheerfully. She looks at Jing Yuan and holds her hand out expectantly, “Pay up. I won our little bet, Jing Yuan.”

Jing Yuan's smile strains before he groans and hands her the money, “I believed Yinyue Jun would’ve won this round as he did before.”

“Wait, you both made a bet on who won? And none of you betted on me?!” Yingxing exclaims, unsure if he should be offended or not.

“Well, about that…” Baiheng and Jing Yuan said at the same time, laughing as the craftsman's face turned red in indignation.

Shaking her head at her companions' antics, Jingliu pulls her sword away from the High Elder. Once Yinyue Jun was freed, he twisted his spear once before putting it away. He gives a curt bow to her and says, “An excellent match, Jingliu. I believe this is your 999th win against me.”

“Don’t be such a sore loser, Dan Feng. This is clearly my 1000th win.” Jingliu corrects him, sheathing her sword and gives a small bow in return.

“Hmph.” Yinyue Jun simply said, standing up straight and shoving his hand into his sleeves. He walks back to their companions, “Shall we join them? I believe Baiheng mentioned she would bring drinks this time around.”

Jingliu, standing up as well, walks alongside him. A small smile on her face watching Yingxing trying to put Jing Yuan in a headlock while Baiheng cheers them on.

“Yes, let’s.”

Yet the simple days where she laughed and drank with her friends were no more.

Instead, the memories have yellowed out with time and burnt along the edges. What was left of her was a cold husk of her former self living the centuries bordering between maddening light or the comforting darkness.

Now, she burns what little embers she has left in order to deliver a strike that can take down the [Aeons] themselves.

#jade writes (drabbles)#||Something super short for the HCQ #||This was like started shortly before 1.4 and I never finished it #||Until now #||Jingliu-Focused drabble featuring HCQ #Also inspired by the opening scene of the Ichor of Two Dragons Animation where it's implied Yinyue Jun and Yingxing regularly spar with Jin #Jingliu #kind of flopped near the end

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ana-swritings · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022 - Day 11

Day 11 of Kinktober

Kink: Thigh Riding

Fandom: S.W.A.T

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x OFC (Adeline)

Words: 1803

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Something different

He had been sitting in his home office, surfing the internet, while on leave after being shot. David was getting bored and knew that he needed to do something, anything to prevent him from climbing up the walls. He was mostly healed, but still had to pass one final physical exam before returning to work. Until then, he was stuck at home.

Looking up from his laptop, he saw Adeline pull a strand of her brown hair behind her ear as she laid across the couch, reading a book. She had been with the team for six months now, after Hondo decided they needed an extra set of hands on the team. But now, she spent most days with him, making sure he was healing properly and not forcing himself past his own physical limits.

What David didn’t expect was to be attracted to her as much as he was. They would flirt, but neither took the next step. Not that David didn’t want to, he just wasn’t sure if she did, plus they were on the same squad. But something had changed in the last few weeks, he wasn’t sure what it was, he only knew that she seemed more flirty than usual. They would be in the headquarter’s kitchen, for example, and she would brush herself against him. Or they would be sparring, and she would press herself against his body whenever he held her closer, making him as hard as a rock. David was one short moment away from forgetting his manners and just pin her down and do everything he could possibly think of to her.

Adeline must’ve been feeling watched, because she lifted her gaze towards David over her book and there was a flicker of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite put a pin on. David saw her licking her lips and the thought of having her mouth around his cock crossed his mind so fast he almost became lightheaded.

He lowered his eyes back to his own screen, trying to find something to focus on other than all the thoughts that were running through his head. David heard her shuffle on the couch but forced himself to keep his eyes down. He didn’t want her to think he had anything in his mind, other than getting caught up with work.

Adeline walked up to him and he only noticed it because she had asked him something. He was so much in his own head he didn’t even listen.

- “What? I’m sorry, I was focused on something else.” – David said, hoping she wouldn’t notice how unfocused he really was.

- “I was asking if you’re up to date.” – Adeline asked, leaning over and placing a hand on his shoulder.

- “No, not yet.”

- “Let me show you something.” – Adeline quickly pulled him back a bit so she could sit on his thigh.

David hoped she couldn’t feel the effect she was having on him. That simple action, sitting on his thigh with her legs apart on each side, was enough for him to start to harden. He was praying to every god and deity he could think of that she wouldn’t feel it, or this would be embarrassing.

He felt her readjusting on his leg and a breath caught in his throat. If she moved back a few more inches, she would for sure feel just how hard he was. Adeline however didn’t seem bothered with the situation. She kept typing as if it was totally normal for her to be sitting on his thigh like that.

David wanted nothing more than to be able to have her right there over the table, but he knew he would probably get his ass kicked if he did. But the more she moved, the harder it was for him to think straight. So, taking a chance, he placed his hand on her waist, which up until then had been laying flat on the side of his chair.

He expected her to move uncomfortably, but she didn’t even flinch at his touch. If anything, she leaned on it, moving her hip slightly towards his hand. David decided to try something else, to see what her reaction would be. Squeezing her waist slightly, he waited. She pulled herself closer to him in response. When she did that, David was sure she had felt how hard he was, because she adjusted herself, so her thigh was pressing down on his cock.

He gave her another squeeze, waiting to see what she would do now. Adeline moved up and down his thigh once, rubbing herself on it, almost as if testing if he would be okay with it. David caught her reflection on the laptop screen and saw her smirking. It was now clear to him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Squeezing again, this time a bit harder, he hoped she understood what he wanted. She seemed to understand, because she started moving as soon as he let up the squeeze, rubbing herself against his thigh.

Adeline smiled at the squeeze. She could tell that just having her sitting on his thigh was enough to get his blood going and she would be lying if she said that it did nothing to her. She had been having a hard time focusing on her book, simply because she was too turned on to focus on anything other than the man in front of her and how wet she was with all the images that would flash in her mind of all the things they could be doing to each other, instead of just hanging out as friends.

So, when she felt that harder squeeze on her waist, she knew he wanted it as bad as she did. Rubbing herself on his thigh was what she hoped was the beginning of something. She started out slow, half expecting him to stop her and being the gentleman he had always been from the first time they met. But he didn’t and that surprised her. Now she wanted to see how long it would take for him to actually do something.

Adeline stopped typing and grabbed the edge of the table to get a bit more traction. David was taller than her, so sitting on his thigh she was only reaching the floor with her toes, almost as if she were wearing heels. Gaining that much-needed traction was just what was necessary for her to start rubbing herself a little faster.

She could hear the breath hitching in his throat when she picked up the speed and she couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped her lips when she did so. Adeline could feel him tense up his thigh at that and smiled, feeling his cock twitch against her own thigh as well.

The feeling of his thigh rubbing her center was something Adeline had never felt before. She was never this forward when it came to sex, but it felt so good that she knew she would do it again in a heartbeat.

David didn’t know what to do. He knew he wanted her to keep going, no matter how much his cock was hurting from being restrained in his jeans, but at the same time he wanted to fuck her senseless. He decided to wait.

David still had one hand on her waist, now grabbing it tightly to help her keep her rhythm, the other he decided to place it on her thigh, rubbing it up and down following her own movement. Adeline had rested her back against his chest and was moaning so softly that David thought for a moment she had forgotten about him.

That is until she grabbed the hand that was on her thigh and brought it to her breasts, squeezing them with his hand under hers. David realized then that she was giving him permission to touch her and wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

Playing with her breasts, he fondled one while kissing her neck. She moaned his name and he barely held off from throwing her on the table. He wanted to see if she could make herself come simply by riding his thigh.

Sneaking his hand under her shirt, he pulled her bra aside and massaged her nipple, making her moan even more. He took hold of her breast in his hand, massaging, pinching, doing everything he could think of. Meanwhile, Adeline was rubbing herself harder and faster, telling him to keep going.

She let go of the table with one hand and placed it on his cock, pressing down gently. David moaned at the contact, grabbing her breast harshly without really thinking. He heard her hitch a breath before moaning out his name.

The pressure on his cock quickly became a rub and David knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to give him some release before she had her own. David didn’t stop her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long.

She rode his thigh faster, telling him that she was close. The faster she rode his thigh, the faster her hand rubbed his cock. He could feel he was close to and told her.

- “Come for me, Adeline. Come on. Let me see you come.”

- “Fuck David. I’m close, I’m so fucking close.”

- “Adeline, you’re gonna make me come. Come with me, baby girl. Come on.”

Adeline couldn’t answer. She hit her high and screamed his name when she did. He had to admit, hearing that was what made him come as well.

They were both panting, coming down from their collective high together. David smiled, he never thought she would do something like that, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t thoroughly enjoy it. He felt Adeline move and looked down at her. She was looking back at him with a somewhat worried expression in her eyes.

He was sure he knew what was worrying her. Leaning down he kissed her softly, reassuring her that everything was alright and that he enjoyed it. She smiled when they broke the kiss, her cheeks flushed, and stood up.

David didn’t know what she was going to do, if she was just going to leave or what, so when she grabbed his hand, making him stand up, he followed her. They stopped at his room door and she looked back at him waiting for an answer. He nodded and she opened the door, walking inside with him.

They spent the rest of the day in his bed, tracing every inch of each other’s body. It wasn’t until Hondo came knocking on his door, wanting to know how he was, that they broke free from each other and came out from his room. The rest? Well, as they say, the rest is history.

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

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#deacon #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober challenge #S.W.A.T #s.w.a.t #swat #thigh riding #david kay #david kay #deacon kay #david kay x ofc #david kay x ofc #deacon kay x ofc #day 11 #day eleven #ana's writings #ofc

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searchingsomewhere · 2 months

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Simple Seconds

The simple seconds it took for Megumi to fall for her.

Megumi x OC

Masterlist

Just a little short something I had in my head. :)

Megumi first met Daiki officially when they were ten years old. He only saw glimpses of her here and there. She came into Jujutsu society in much the same manner as he did; as an orphan with no where else to go. The dark haired boy had barely looked at her then.

As they got older, however, that changed.

The first time he really saw Daiki, actually got a good look at her, he was dumbstruck.

They were fifteen. She seemed to get along well with that new girl, Kugisaki. The two were coming back from a shopping trip at the same time Megumi and Itadori were sparring outside. Megumi brought up his arm to block Itadori's well timed kick, ducking under his leg.

Laughter rang out from the courtyard. He stopped in his tracks, entranced by the warm sound, and looked around for the source. Daiki's head was thrown back in joy, her hand covering her mouth. For once, she wore her dark hair down from it's usual braids. It hung down in waves past her shoulders. Her brown eyes sparkled as she elbowed Kugisaki, who was hanging off her arm in a fit of giggles.

Megumi's heart thumped once hard. Twice. His eyes widened, taking in the way the sun warmed her complexion. Had she always been that pretty? How had he not noticed before?

"Watch it-" Itadori's warning came a fraction too late. His leg slammed into Megumi's neck, toppling the teen.

"Holy shit, Yuji!" Daiki swore, "Are you trying to kill him?"

Footsteps bounded towards him. Megumi stared up at the sky, head still reeling. Kugisaki was scolding both of them, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. Daiki's brown eyes, warmed into a golden honey color by the setting sun, blocked his view of the watercolor clouds.

"You alright?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.

His voice caught in his throat as he looked up at her. His fingers itched to take her face in his hands. Her lips looked impossibly soft. How had he never seen her like this? Just as his hand started to raise from the ground to cup her face, she sat up.

"I think you broke him," she said to their friends.

Itadori's distressed cry snapped Megumi out of his trance. He groaned and sat up, rubbing the back of his head bashfully.

"I'm fine," he muttered, keeping his gaze low.

He tried to keep from looking over at her the rest of the day.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #megumi x oc #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk oc

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p-artsypants · 2 years

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No, You Go First (7)

Ao3 | FF.net

For anyone wondering and lamenting about the angst and heartbreak coming with this development, I tried to keep it light. :)

And all marriage and wedding stuff is just not going to be historically accurate. They’re helmets aren’t correct, Berk isn’t a real place, so I’m making up the lore for that topic (based on what we see in the third film).

—

A few days into her engagement to Snotlout and Astrid was ready to throw herself off a cliff.

Was that too dramatic? Or perhaps morbid?

Didn’t matter. He was just so…obnoxious.

“And I told the guy, you know what I said to him? I said you mess with the Snotster, you get the horns! That’s what I said!”

“And this was Tuffnut you were fighting with?” She drawled.

“No, that was the last story. This was a totally different guy. A guy you never would have met.”

“Right.” She smirked.

She was trying. The chief had worked so hard to get the ceremony delayed, she figured she ought to at least try to make the time worth it and attempt to fall in love with Snotlout in the meantime.

It wasn’t working, but no one could say she wasn’t trying.

She spent time with him. Time she’d normally spend with Hiccup. That was the hardest part, of course. When separating herself from Hiccup, she also separated herself from Toothless and Stormfly, and at such a critical time in her training too!

She tried not to think about that snowy afternoon in the hayloft with Hiccup either. It was for the best that she forget about him entirely.

That was easier said than done, of course. Especially as he sat at the table across from them.

“Snotlout, Astrid,” he said cordially.

“Hey Cuz! How goes the Dragon Sympathizing?” Snotlout chuckled.

‘How goes the woman stealing?’ “It’s great, thanks for asking,” Hiccup responded, bitterness in his words. He unfurled a large piece of paper in front of them. “Now, since I’m working in the forge, have design experience, and the gods apparently hate me, I’ve been assigned the task of designing your…” he sighed hard. “Your wedding home.”

Wow, the gods really did hate him.

“Oh really?” Snotlout said, with a disgusting curl to his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes. So do you want to give me helpful input, or do you just want me to wing it?” He smoothed the blank paper out. “And don’t worry, I’ve already planned two nice sized beds in different rooms.”

“Haha,” Snotlout stuck out his tongue. He considered all of this, his mouth scrunching up. A very unused thinking face, if there ever was one. “I want a nice big basement. A place to spar and tame these bad boys,” he flexed his arms.

Hiccup didn’t comment on it, just drew a box off to the side to signify the basement landing.

“Oh, and of course, I want a giant metal ‘S’ on the front. For Snotlout!”

“Or for ‘Stupid’.” Hiccup muttered.

“Shouldn’t it be a ‘J’ for Jorgenson?” Asked Astrid.

“Or ‘Jackass’?”

“This is my house, Astrid. Not my dad’s.”

“His name starts with an S too.” She argued back.

“Okay okay,” Hiccup butted in. “Let’s talk about accessories later, once it’s built. Focus on the house.”

“Well,” said Snotlout. “Make sure the bedroom can fit the biggest bed possible.”

Both Hiccup and Astrid scoffed.

“Hey, it’s not what you think! She kicks!” Snotlout pointed at Astrid.

“I do?” She sneered. “How do you know that?”

“Yeah. Remember that camping trip we all went on last summer? Me and Tuff shared a tent, the fish boys shared a tent,” he pointed at Hiccup. “And you and Ruff shared a tent.”

Hiccup did remember the camping trip, because it was the first and last annual trip for his generation. He was supposed to share a tent with Fishlegs, but the boy took up the whole tent by himself so Hiccup had to build a lean to to sleep in. He ended up laying in poison oak and got a horrible swollen rash and got the trip canceled. Of course, that had been another blow to his popularity.

“Ruff said she had bruises for weeks from you kicking her,” Snot explained. “So I want a nice big bed. Preferably one with one of those chastity boards that I can drop if she gets too violent.”

Hiccup started laughing then.

Astrid kicked him under the table.

“Ow! I can see why you’d kick in your sleep! It’s muscle memory!”

She kicked him again.

Hiccup rubbed his sore shin and then lightly drew the main outline of the house while Snotlout and Astrid watched. He drew the area for the loft, and made a note of ‘big bed with board’.

“That’s all I care about,” said Snotlout. “Astrid’s going to be there more often since…” he attempted to whisper, though it was still full volume. “She’s the woman!”

“Thanks, Snotlout.” Astrid droned.

“Anytime. You kids have fun! I got stuff to do!” He waved with a flourish.

So Astrid was left alone with Hiccup to design her marriage home to another man. It started out awkward, but then it became kind of fun.

“Do you enjoy cooking? Would you like a dedicated kitchen area?”

“I think…if I had the space, I might try to cook more often. Mom’s teaching me to make bread, but my loaves are pretty flat.”

“Bread’s not too hard. You must be kneading it too much, or not letting it rise.”

“That’s what mom says! Wait, you know how to cook?”

“Of course! You think my dad has time to make meals with all his chiefing?”

“Hmm. I never thought of it before. I guess it makes sense.”

“Of course, I don’t always cook. We often get food from other people in the village. Mrs. Sorenson makes too much stew, or Fishlegs’ mom brings a small shepherd's pie.”

“Do you do the other chores too?” She asked.

“Like laundry and mending? Sometimes. The other ladies sometimes stop over and pick up our laundry. I assume they think ‘I might as well do theirs while I’m doing laundry’. I do all the mending though. I made this tunic!”

“Not surprising. I saw your leather working on Toothless’ tail.”

“You know, I learned to sew from Snotlout’s mom. She taught him too. Told him a man ought to know how to repair his own clothes if he can’t find a wife.”

Astrid snorted. “Are you saying Mrs. Jorgenson thought Snotlout would be single for a long time?”

“Your words.” He smirked. “How about the bathroom? You want an inside tub?”

Astrid’s eyes widened. “An inside tub? You can do that?”

“I’ll put it under the stairs, and put a grill underneath so you can have warm water.”

“Now you’re spoiling me!”

Hiccup smiled. “You should enjoy something about this marriage.”

“Pft.” She shook her head.

Together they planned out a dream home. It raised Astrid’s mood considerably. If she had to be married to a man she disliked, at least she was living in a cool house.

Astrid looked at Hiccup, a big smile on her face. It was nice to spend time with him again. If she was lucky, Snotlout would let her continue to be friends with him. Then again, jealousy might ruin that.

“I’ll take these prints to Gobber, and we’ll get to work.”

“Where’s the house going?”

“At the edge of the woods. If you’re lucky, you can sneak out to see Stormfly.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “And there’s space for a stable for her when the time comes.”

“Thank you, Hiccup. That’s so cool.”

He beamed at her. “Anything for you, Milady.”

—-

They were getting away from Berk for a few days. The village thought Hiccup and Stoick were going for a father-son bonding camping trip, but really, they were going on a secret scouting mission on dragon back. The idea had been passed back and forth a few times, that maybe the reason they hadn’t been able to find the dragon’s nest with the boats was because only a dragon could find it. It was Hiccup’s thought, and he had just been able to convince his dad that a two man scouting mission was better than introducing Toothless to the tribe as a compass.

And getting away from Berk for a while would be a good distraction from Astrid.

“Remember dad, keep it light.”

“Aye lad. I was about to say the same thing.” He checked over his pack, as Hiccup peaked over.

“You don’t need the flint.”

“Oh. Right! That will be convenient.” He took it out. “I packed a knife. Are they going to be alright with that?”

“Toothless trusts you now. You can bring your hammer too, if you want.”

Stoick considered it, and decided to take it with him, just in case.

They left early in the morning, before people could see how little they were taking with them.

“You think Astrid will mind that I’m taking Stormfly?” Asked Stoick.

“I asked her, and she’s thrilled that Stormfly gets to go on the trip. The poor Nadder doesn’t get off island a lot these days.”

Stoick nodded. “Astrid’s been rather busy. She brought over some soup two nights ago.”

“She did? Why didn’t I get any?”

“You got dinner with the other men working on the house, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…I guess…was it good?”

Stoick smirked. “You want to know what Astrid’s cooking was like?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Stoick chuckled. “That you did. It tasted a lot like your mother’s cooking.”

“That good?”

“Son, your mother was known for her kind heart and good looks…not her cooking.”

Hiccup snorted.

They reached the cove, and Toothless and Stormfly started dancing around, full of energy and excited to see them.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Stoick said cautiously, petting Stormfly’s snout. “You’ve seen me a few times. I’m no Astrid, but do you think I could fly you for a while?”

Stormfly squawked and lowered herself so he could mount her. Hiccup brought over a saddle. “Here, don’t want to get a sore butt.”

“Thanks son.”

Hiccup helped him strap the saddle on, before climbing on Toothless. “You think you can handle your first solo flight being a long one?”

“Astrid seems to have whipped this Nadder into shape. As long as she cooperates with me, we’ll get along great.”

“Sometimes I think you’ve made great progress accepting the dragons, and then you say things like that.” He took off.

“What? What did I say wrong?” Stoick called back. He gave Stormfly a little pat, like Hiccup had instructed, and she took off into the air.

Once Stoick caught up to Hiccup, they started their journey in earnest.

“So,” said Hiccup. “Where are we going?”

“The raids come from the North. I think that’s where the Nest is. Hopefully as we get close, the dragons will take us right there.”

“And we’re not going to hurt them, right?”

“I’m certainly not taking the nest by myself.”

“I’m here.”

“What are you going to do to a dragon? Let them eat you so they can choke on you?”

“Ouch, but fair.”

“This is a scouting mission, first and foremost.”

Hiccup nodded, trying not to think too much about what was so uncertain. What were they going to find at the nest anyway? It was a nest, after all. Were they storing it all for winter like the Vikings did? Maybe they’d find a bunch of babies. Then he’d feel really bad.

Hiccup wanted to end the raids. But he didn’t know if he wanted to do what it took to end them.

“You’ve been busy lately,” Stoick noted. “Between studying the dragons on the island and forge work, I rarely see you.”

“I’m trying to keep busy. Besides, Snotlout and Astrid’s house isn’t going to build itself.”

“We put up houses overnight. You don’t need to work so hard on it.”

“I want it to be nice for her…and Snotlout.” He added as an afterthought.

“Should I invite some of our allied chiefs with young daughters to come and meet your acquaintance?”

Hiccup frowned. “No. And I don’t really want to talk about my love life anymore.”

“Fair enough.” Stoick gave a respectful nod. Then, after a few moments of silence, he added, “knowing Snotlout, he won’t live to see 20. You can have Astrid when she’s a widow.”

“DAD!”

They flew on and on. Conversation hadn’t been easy for them for many years, but since that fateful night before the snowfall, when Hiccup had just shot Toothless down, their relationship had started to improve. Stoick was still a Viking with years of dragon slaying under his belt. While Hiccup was a boy filled with ideas of things that were—well, not dragon slaying. Bridging the gap between the two was difficult.

So it was no surprise that they flew for an hour without a single word exchanged.

“Hmph,” Stoick grunted eventually.

“You say something, dad?”

“Just thinking,” Stoick peered over Stormfly’s side. “The ice on the sea is pretty thick. I don’t know if we could’ve gotten a ship up here even in the summer.”

“Then if we are close to the nest, it would make sense, right? Go where the ugly pink things with pointy sticks can’t go.”

“Who’re you callin’ ugly?”

“Not you, obviously. I meant all the other vikings.”

Stoick snorted. “A fair theory…if you throw out the idea of them migrating for winter.”

“Maybe they just…hunker down?”

“Perhaps.” Stoick took a compass out from his saddle bag. “We’re still heading north. I would have thought we would have reached the nest by now.”

“Do you think we’re off course?”

“Hard to tell what the right course is in the first place. We’ll go a bit further, and then take a wide loop back.”

“Looks like a bit further is fog.” Hiccup pointed.

Stoick narrowed his eyes. It sort of looked like the fog he encountered at Helheim’s gate. “Maybe we aren’t so off course after all. Let’s see if we can get above it.”

The fog was thick, and it was impossible to see the ocean below it. But it did have a top, and they rode over it like a boat in the water. The fog went on for what looked like forever, to the edge of the world. Hiccup’s heart began to beat faster, as a sense of unease settled over him. Somewhere in this fog, somewhere near, the nest of dragons laid.

Toothless’ ear flaps raised, and he course corrected suddenly, making Hiccup jolt.

“Buddy?”

Stormfly let out a squawk and likewise jolted to the right, focused on something.

“Easy girl,” Stoick said softly, but deadly serious. “I think they’ve got the trail.”

Hiccup swallowed thickly, the anticipation of discovery thundered in his veins. He had a horrible feeling that by time the reached the end of this journey, his life would be irrevocably changed, and he didn’t know if that was exciting or terrifying.

Stoick and Hiccup flew side by side, with maybe one wingspan of space between them.

They watched, with shock and awe as a figure breached the fog in front of them. A human in grotesque, animalistic armor holding a staff, rose in front of them, standing tall, proud, and unafraid.

If they were riding several hundred feet above the sea, what was he standing on?

Several deafening seconds passed before Toothless warbled.

The person swiveled quickly, startled by the sound. Hiccup could not see their face, but they clearly saw him, and tapped the staff twice. The figure sank into the fog, only to emerge quickly on the back of a huge dragon, easily twice the size of Toothless. It was orange and had two sets of wings.

“Toothless, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Hiccup quickly assured his dragon, but more to himself.

The stranger and his dragon flipped backwards and dove back into the fog.

“Wait!” Hiccup called, and urged Toothless after him.

“Hiccup!” Stoick shouted after. “I can’t keep up!”

“Stormfly’s a tracker, you’ll find me!” And he raced off, afraid to lose this stranger.

The appearance of a human filled Hiccup with all sorts of emotions. If there was a person in charge of these raids, then perhaps they could be reasoned with? They could trade instead, and Berk could learn how to train dragons like this person had!

Toothless burst through the wall of fog to find a rocky island, halfway made of giant ice spikes. Distantly, he heard his father yell. “What in the beard of Thor is that!?” Before he and Toothless dove into a cavern.

“Careful, bud!” Hiccup attempted to slow his friend down, but Toothless blasted an echoing roar down the tunnel, and proceeded to nail every twist and turn. “Wow…” Hiccup whispered, delighted to learn something new about his dragon.

How did that other dragon navigate through here?

Toothless landed in a cave. There were a few other dragons resting that perked up when they entered.

“Halt your approach, viking!” A woman’s voice called. “Your kind is not welcomed here!” Hiccup spotted her then, with the dim light shining through the ice. She was crouched up on a ledge, her dragon behind her. “This is a dragon’s sanctuary, not a killer’s playground!”

“I’m not a killer!” Hiccup protested. “I’m a friend to dragons! All I want is to bring peace between vikings and dragons.” He hopped off of Toothless. “See? This is Toothless. He’s my best friend.”

The woman used her staff to lower herself to the ground, as she slinked closer.

“We’re trying to find a way to get the dragons to stop raiding us.” He stood rigidly as the woman crept ever closer. Her movements were like a wild animal. “I just want to talk.”

“You’re so young…just a boy…” She cooed, coming closer still, and reaching a hand out towards him.

“Uh…yeah…well, I’m sixteen. I just look small.” He attempted to chuckle. “Late bloomer.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. “...Hiccup?”

His eyes widened and he blinked several times, stunned.

The woman removed her helmet and tossed it to the side. She stepped into his personal space and caressed his face, her callous fingers trembling as she touched him.

She had vibrant green eyes, auburn hair streaked with gray, and high cheekbones.

“Should…I…know you?” Hiccup asked, extremely uncomfortable.

The woman seemed to fight for words, then eventually said, “...no.”

“You certainly seem to know me…” He desperately tried to joke as she touched his hair.

She had tears in her eyes as she kissed his forehead gently. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Okay!” Hiccup chuckled uneasily as he danced away from her. “That’s…that’s enough of that for me, thank you.”

The woman kept staring at him, a wistful smile on her face. Then her brows drew into a crease. “That man with you…?”

“Oh, that’s my dad.”

“...Stoick?”

“Yeah! He’ll catch up soon.”

She backed up, fear rolling off of her in waves. “I have to go. He can’t see me.”

“Wait wait wait,” Hiccup grabbed her arm. “You can’t leave! We need your knowledge! Dad and I are training the dragons, but the rest of the tribe still hates them. Please, we need your help!”

“Hiccup!” Stoick’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “Add to your notes! Nadder’s don’t have great night vision!” There was a clatter of rocks. “Ow! Watch it missy!”

The woman looked stricken towards the cavern entrance. “Please Hiccup, he mustn’t see me!”

“Why? Dad’s really mellowed out these last few months. I think since we’re so close to peace, he’s finally calmed down. Whatever you’re afraid of, don’t be.”

“Hiccup…” Her jaw trembled.

Hiccup knew he wasn’t that strong. This woman could break free of his hold easily, but she wasn’t trying. Was she afraid of hurting him? Hurting his feelings?

Finally, Stoick and Stormfly all but fell into the cavern, Stormfly tilting so that he fell off.

She squawked angrily at him.

“It wasn’t my idea!” He yelled back. He grumbled as he stood and dusted off his clothes. When his face raised to find his son, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped in shock.

Hiccup got behind the woman and pushed her forward. “Go on. He won’t bite.”

As the woman turned and met Stoick’s gaze, the look on his father’s face changed to something he had never seen before. Awe? Reverence? He looked damn near tears.

“Well, go on!” The woman shouted at him. “Get ta shoutin’!” She stood a little straighter.

Stoick took off his helmet.

“I didn’t come home, afterall. All this time…never said a word about where I was. And now—”

Stoick only stepped closer, eyes riveted on her.

Hiccup watched, goosebumps running up his back. A part of him had a guess at who this was, but the rest of him denied it vehemently. After all, she was dead…

Wasn’t she?

“By the gods, Stoick! Won’t you say somethin’?”

Stoick raised a hand to her face, touching her so tenderly. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

All the fight went out of his woman, and she clutched onto Stoick as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Stoick kissed her then, tenderly. Like someone who hadn’t kissed in so long and wanted to savor it.

“D-dad?” Hiccup whispered, overcome with emotion. “Is…is she…?”

“Aye, lad.”

The tears on Valka’s face doubled as she rushed back to Hiccup and crushed him into a fierce hug. “My baby…my baby boy!”

“M-mom…Mom!” And he hugged her back, coming unraveled at the seams. All these years, and he finally had his mother. She was here. She was alive!

Stoick surrounded them and lifted them off the ground in a hug. He was laughing and weeping, so overwhelmed with emotion, it just spilled out of him.

Hiccup looked at his beautiful mother. “Let’s go home, mom.”

Valka looked much more forlorn and reserved at that. She pulled away from the boys, slowly backing away towards her dragon.

“Val…?”

“I can’t go back,” she breathed.

“Why not, love?” Stoick wasn’t accusing, just concerned.

“Hiccup said so himself, the tribe still hates dragons. I’ve lived alone, among them, for 15 years. I…I couldn’t go back to a society that hates them. And…I don’t know…” she looked at her hands. “Being away from people…it changes you. They’d hate me too.”

Hiccup looked to his dad, pleading.

“We can’t leave you here, Val. I just found you! I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I know, my darling. I don’t want to leave you…but…”

“We’re close!” Interrupted Hiccup. “I’m working on stopping the raids, that’s why we came out here. It won’t be long and then–”

“They won’t understand.” Valka said patiently. “They didn’t back then. If I return before there’s peace…it could endanger your father. He’d be a traitor. They don’t know you’ve befriended dragons, do they?”

Stoick shook his head. “It’s been our secret.”

“The cove!” Hiccup chirped. “The shack in the cove! She can live there until we get everything figured out! And you can bring—um…” He looked at the large dragon that was now examining Toothless with wise old eyes.

“Cloudjumper.”

“Cool.” He smiled. “You can bring Cloudjumper, and come and go as you want, but that way, you’ll be near, and we can see you!”

“Please Val…” Stoick begged. “That’s reasonable, isn’t it?”

Valka was quiet for a bit, mulling it over. It would be a slow start. Like stepping into water up to your knees instead of jumping right in. “Aye. It’s reasonable.”

“Then you’ll come back with us?”

Valka swallowed, and then nodded. “To the cove. For now.”

Stoick grabbed her into a tight hug and kissed her face. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Valka started giggling as she half-heartedly tried to escape. “Alright alright! Let me just pack up a few things.”

The men followed her through the caverns as she led them to her living space. It was like a balcony to an auditorium, and she led them in through the back. She had fur pelts for sleeping, a large clay pot for cooking, and other odds and ends.

The boys didn’t see any of it. In front of them, they had a perfect view of what was inside the giant ice pillar.

One dragon surrounded by hundreds more. This one singular dragon was the size of the mountain the Great Hall was built into. Not the hall itself, the mountain. It was mostly white, and had a great mane of fins from its back. Two huge tusks protruded from its mouth, big enough to wipe out the village with one swipe.

“I didn’t know dragons could get that big.” Stoick said, weakly.

“Every dragon colony has its queen, but this is the king.” Valka said proudly.

“Is this the guy causing the raids?” Hiccup asked, desperately hoping the answer was no.

“No.”

Both Hiccup and Stoick breathed a sigh of relief.

“The Bewilderbeast is a kind and benevolent alpha. But all dragons from a certain distance can hear his call, and come to worship him. It is likely how your dragons found this place.” She picked through her belongings, deciding what was worth taking with her.

“But…something like this…is causing the raids?” Hiccup pried.

“It is likely.” She bagged up some strange looking tools, only the gods knowing what they were for. “The night I was taken…” She paused and looked to the ceiling. “Cloudjumper had landed on our house. I went to protect you, Hiccup. You were just a babe. But what I saw instead…he was watching you with awe. I had expected a horrible sight, but I saw a kind and gentle creature. I don’t know why he took me. Perhaps to fulfill his task? But as we flew from Berk, he broke away from the rest, and continued north. He brought me here, and the alpha graciously let me stay.”

Cloudjumper appeared from the other wall, blocking the sight of the alpha. Toothless appeared next to him, tongue lolling out. He seemed to be having a good time.

“I can only guess that Cloudjumper is loyal to this alpha first, and whatever spell sent him to Berk…he broke from it before he could deliver me.”

Stoick rested his hands on his waist and chastised the great dragon. “You could have at least brought her back, you know!”

Cloudjumper just cocked his head, looking mildly offended.

“It’s in the past now, love.” Valka stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

But was it really? That dragon, that other alpha, was still out there. A great tyrant. Was it the size of this alpha?

Or bigger?

Valka didn’t take much with her. Some things she had made from whatever she could find she would start to pack, and then Stoick reminded her gently, “Love, I can get you actual socks made of wool,” or “darling, Hiccup is a very talented blacksmith, I’m sure he could make you a better hammer than a rock tied to a stick.” In the end, she ended up taking some armor she had made from dragon hide, and a stack of journals she had made herself from homemade parchment and leather. As Hiccup held one for her, he studied it, seeing a few doodles in the margins. It gave him a strange feeling.

He and his father had been polar opposites. He could never see much of his dad in him, besides a few physical traits like his nose.

He took after his mother. Knowing that gave him a sense of belonging. He wasn’t the only one of his kind. He wasn’t the odd one out anymore.

Before leaving, Valka made a point to say goodbye to the alpha. She spoke to him like an equal. She introduced Hiccup and Stoick, letting the beast breathe a wisp of ice onto them. She explained that she was leaving for now, but may come back to visit. Then she kissed his scales and gave him a hug.

As much as one could hug a mountain.

Stoick just stood amazed, enraptured that his wife could speak to such a creature.

Then it was time to leave.

“What’s this?” Valka’s voice came hard as she finally noticed Toothless’ tail. “A wound from the tribe?” She snarled.

“Actually…that was…my doing?” Hiccup tensed up. “It’s kinda…how we met. I knocked him down, and when I went to finish the job…” He patted Toothless’ snout, feeling that old guilt bubble up. “I couldn’t do it. I cut him free, but he couldn’t fly. So I decided to study him. I made him a new tail, and learned how to fly with him. Dad and I made a deal then. I wouldn’t go into dragon training, if I worked in the forge and tried to find a way to end the raids.”

“He did good, for a while,” Stoick rubbed Hiccup’s head. “Figured out the dragons don’t like eels–”

“Aye, reminds them of sea serpents,” Valka added, nodding like it was common knowledge.

Hiccup filed that tidbit away for later.

“So we had vikings waving eels around during raids instead of weapons. Scared the beasts right off!”

Valka laughed. “That’s a funny thought.”

Hiccup’s mouth pulled to a thin line as he admitted. “The eels are gone on migration, so the tribe is going to have to go back to weapons unless I can come up with something else…that’s why we went out. To see if we could find the nest and stop the raids.”

The pieces to the puzzle seemed to click for her then. Where Berk was, what was going on… “how long ago did this happen?”

“Ah…about a month or so before Snoggletog.” Hiccup mused.

Valka looked surprised. “That’s been six months now? It took me three years to get Cloudjumper to let me ride him!”

Hiccup tried not to feel too smug.

“Well of course!” Stoick said, smug on his behalf. “He’s our son. So he’s a genius.”

So they were just having a smug-fest, huh?

Valka smiled at both of them. “Let’s go home, my loves.”

The flight home was fascinating. While Hiccup may have trained the dragons faster, Valka still had several years of flying under her belt. She occasionally stood on Cloudjumper, but most of the time, she was climbing and jumping to sit behind Hiccup or Stoick. Like the height of a 400 foot fall didn’t scare her at all.

Hiccup supposed that it really didn’t. Cloudjumper would catch her, he was certain. Like Toothless would catch him if he fell.

Stormfly might catch Stoick with some prodding, but he didn’t want to test it.

“I never pictured you as a Nadder fan,” said Valka to her husband. “Not that I imagined you liking dragons in the first place. But if you were to appreciate one, I thought it’d be a Monstrous Nightmare.”

“Aye. Those boys are mighty impressive. Too afraid he’d light me on fire though. No, this Nadder is–she belongs to Hiccup’s friend, Astrid. Our one other dragon lover.”

“Astrid…Astrid…the Hofferson babe?”

“Oh she’s a babe, alright. Tell her, Hiccup!” Stoick laughed.

“Not funny dad,” Hiccup droned.

“Where’s the lass now?” Valka asked, missing the resentment in Hiccup’s tone.

“She’s been busy. Her parents have her in cooking and sewing lessons. And this is all a secret, so she couldn’t get away.”

“Oh, I see.” Valka nodded astutely. “You’re sixteen now, Hiccup? That’s marrying age…” She began to tease.

“Yeah, and that’s my least favorite topic. If we could steer clear of it?”

The ride back was much more animated. Hiccup told his mother all about the things he had discovered about the dragons. Valka shared her own insight, her words occasionally being garbled together into nonsense.

It quickly became apparent that she really truly hadn’t had anyone to talk to in years. Once she started talking, she went on and on, admitting things a bit too easily. Neither Stoick nor Hiccup minded, but Hiccup could picture a few judgmental vikings that would give her a hard time if they saw her now.

Eventually, they arrived at the cove.

“Oh, this is darling!” Valka cooed. She looked over the little shack with fondness.

“It’ll be a little cramped, but since the weather is nice, Toothless won’t try to get in there with you.”

“Oh we can share!” She said enthusiastically. She then spoke to Toothless, making nonsensical noises. He responded with a friendly warble, his mouth opening wide. “Retractable teeth!” She chirped, sticking head fully into Toothless’ mouth. “Amazing!” She pet his tongue.

Stoick looked quite ill.

While Valka was making herself at home, Stoick started up a fire to make dinner. “Now, all we need is some fish.”

On cue, Cloudjumper barfed up a dozen long dead fish. Toothless, wanting to be included, barfed up a half of one on Hiccup’s lap.

“Oh…thanks buddy.” Hiccup patted his nose.

“Good boy, Cloudjumper!” Valka praised, and talked to her dragon in that weird garbled language. Then she scooped up three of the slimy fish and took them over to the lake to wash the dragon saliva off.

Stoick looked even more ill. “You know…I think I have some yak jerky stored in the shed…”

The little family gathered around the fire and for the first time, ate together. Hiccup ended up trying his mother’s fish, which wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t good either, but at least it was cooked.

They sat and talked past sunset, when the cove grew dark and the only light came from the fire and the half moon.

When silence fell, and Toothless laid his head on Hiccup’s lap, Stoick started to whistle.

Hiccup found it odd, as he rarely heard the man do so.

Then he started to sing, and Valka gasped.

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me…”

Valka gazed at him, eyes shimmering with tears.

“No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey!

If you will promise me your heart

And love…” He held the note for a second, hoping that she would finish it.

And she did. “And love me for eternity

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me.” Valka stood, holding her hands out to Stoick, and they began to dance. A dance that Hiccup had seen at weddings before, but never experienced, obviously.

“But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me.”

Hiccup had never heard his father so full of joy. Genuine, down to the core joy. He got goosebumps the moment he realized it was because his wife was taken. His very joy had been snuffed out, and he hadn’t been this truly happy until she was back in his arms.

“I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me.”

Hiccup watched his parents; his long lost mother, and his emotionally distant father, as they danced and batted their eyes at each other like teenagers. Their love had never left. It was always there. After 15 years, it only took a glance, and they were the same as they had been.

“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows and delights

I'll keep your laugh inside me.”

A cold, hollow feeling swept through him. A very sad and lonely thought rattled in his mind, and interrupted the happiness he was feeling.

‘You’ll never have this,’ the traitorous voice said. And it was true. In only a few months, Astrid would be married to Snotlout. Then what? Hope his father found a good match for him? And then be stuck on the same island as her and see her miserable everyday? No. He wanted what his parents had. This intense love that transcended time. He was desperate for it, even. When Hiccup had his worst days, he’d think back to the afternoon in the hayloft, when they kissed and held each other. Sure, the kissing had been amazing, but her touch was addicting. The embrace they shared, that was so much flesh against flesh, he craved it. It was an intimacy he had never had with anyone. A connection that gnawed on his soul.

Much like his connection to Toothless, a friendship that went beyond the ability to speak…if he and Toothless had to separate, there wouldn’t be any other dragon to fill that hole. Likewise, there wouldn’t be another woman to take Astrid’s place.

Maybe in a few years, it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!”

Stoick and Valka laughed in each other’s arms once they finished their song. They giggled and kissed and muttered sweet nothings in warm tones.

Hiccup was content to leave them in their bubble of love until Toothless let out a sad croon.

Valka and Stoick looked at Toothless, and then at Hiccup.

“Son?” Asked Stoick, concerned. “What's wrong?”

“What? Nothing, nothing!”

“You say that, but you got a waterfall on your face.”

Hiccup wiped the slew of tears from his cheeks, hoping they had been invisible in the night.

“Oh, my baby boy!” Valka cried. She rushed to him, and scooped him up to sit sideways in her lap.

Hiccup went from desolate, to confused and embarrassed. Sure he was small, but he was still 16, almost an adult, and she was holding him like a toddler. He looked at his father.

Stoick just gave a half hearted shrug and said, “just let her have this, son.”

Hiccup chose to relax, and Valka took the opportunity to comb her fingers through his hair and kiss his temple. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Momma’s here.”

Hiccup wiped his face again, making sure all those pesky tears were gone. “I’m fine, mom. Really. Just got emotional about you and dad.”

“Ah,” said Stoick with a nod. “I know what this is about.”

“It’s not anything! I was just—“

“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III you are a terrible liar and you know it. This is about Astrid, isn’t it?”

The use of his full name made him shut up. He just gave a little nod.

“What happened?” Asked Valka. “Do I need to talk to her?”

Hiccup sighed. “No. Astrid’s engaged to Snotlout.”

“Snotlout? My nephew Snotlout?”

“Yeah.”

“Well my boy, unrequited love can be hard.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that.” Then he spilled the truth, telling her all about how Astrid was there at the beginning, when everyone thought he was just a screw up. How she had studied the dragons during training, and in turn he had given her pointers to help in the ring. How she had gotten hurt from the Nightmare and everyone had cast her out, except for him. How they rebelled and freed the dragons from the arena.

It was surprisingly easy to talk to her.

“And then…she kissed me. I think she was happy that I did what I could to help her feel better. Ever since then, we had occasionally exchanged kisses in private. We didn’t want to tell anyone right away because we both knew contracts and marriage and babies would be brought up. I don’t know if she had any deep romantic feelings for me, or just…liked me more than the other boys.” He sighed. “But Spitelout and her father bet on her fight against the Nightmare. If she lost, she’d have to marry Snotlout. It’s all been arranged. He even admitted to noticing how close Astrid and I were and decided to act quickly so Snotlout could marry well. She didn’t get a word in.” He didn’t mention anything about the hayloft. That was his little secret with Astrid. Besides, a kiss was a kiss. That’s all that mattered for the sake of the story.

“Well how do you like that!” Valka barked. “Why the little Hobblegrunt! I can’t believe he would pull this stunt! You know, your father and I were married first, even though Spitelout is older. My father kept trying to marry Spitelout off to other ladies but he refused every offer. He threw tantrums and ripped up every contract that was made. When he was 20, he brought Helga home and said he was finally ready to get married.” She shook her head. “He was seeing her the whole time. Dad could have arranged a contract for them, but Spitelout decided not to say anything. We all knew they liked each other too. Helga’s father said she wasn’t interested so dad never bothered.”

“Well, Snotlout likes her. I think that’s about it.” Hiccup shrugged.

Stoick cleared his throat. “You know that’s not it, Hiccup.”

“Dad, you’re not going to tattle, are you?”

“Tattle?” Valka chuckled.

“Oh! I’ll tell the whole sorry truth! That lout brother of yours is doing this to slight us! Apparently, I didn’t protect you, so he’s been holding a grudge for 15 years! He saw a great opportunity to embarrass us, and took it!”

“But I think Snotlout really does like Astrid, shallowly.” Hiccup added. “Two birds, one stone and all that.”

Valka scoffed with a little headshake. “Men can be so petty.”

“So…would you talk to him?” Hiccup asked, hesitating.

“Oh my darling,” she hugged him closer. “I would. For you, I would do anything. But I don’t think it’s wise right now. If I suddenly reappeared, I’d have to explain where I’d been…there would be a lot of accusations of me being a traitor, and your father could get in trouble. Spitelout might even feel more betrayed and double down. No dearest, I can’t help you.”

Hiccup sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“I know!” She perked up, a wicked grin on her face. “You should fight Snotlout! Show who’s the better mate!”

Hiccup chuckled weakly. “Except Snotlout would smear me across the arena floor. I’m the weak one here.”

“Oh. Right…well then you’ll simply need to bed her!”

Stoick choked while Hiccup froze, wide-eyed.

“It’s quite simple! Once your scent is on her, it will deter any other potential mates!”

Stoick started laughing then. “My love, these are young people, not dragons. If Astrid sleeps with Hiccup while under contract, there would be outrage, scandal! Remember? That happened to the Ivarson lass.”

“Oh,” Valka blushed. “Of course. Perhaps I’m not the best person to ask for advice now, hmm?”

“At least it’s entertaining,” Hiccup chuckled, leaning on her shoulder.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack up above, like someone stepping on a stick.

Stormfly perked up and gave a happy little squawk.

Astrid appeared at the entrance, her axe cutting through the air like she had a grudge against breathing. “Stupid barbaric idiot! Who does he think he is, ‘3 foot massages a week’? Gah! Oh I’m massage his feet alright! With a hammer!” She then realized there was a fire going and she wasn’t alone like she thought she’d be. “Oh, you’re back…” But as she took in the sight, she realized Hiccup sat in the lap of a strange woman. “Uhhh…”

“I can explain.”

#no you go first #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #astrid hofferson #hiccstrid

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Something Lucky About This Place

Jason opened the door took in the woman on the other side. He leaned his forearm against the doorframe, easing himself into a casually defensive position between her and his apartment. She had an overly bright smile on her face, probably hoping he would have forgotten the last time they came across each other. He glared at her. “You think you can just come into my place and interfere in my life…”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow at him with a deadpan expression. “Are you going to let me in? These bags are heavy.”

“I don’t know… you don’t have any water balloons, right?”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a playful groan. “If you don’t want to get hit with a water balloon, don’t get into a water fight. Especially against me.”

Jason chuckled and pushed off the doorframe. He shoved the door open, grabbed one of her bags, and walked into the apartment without looking back. “Come on in, Pix. Make yourself at home. Might as well get comfortable if you’re going to be here for a few weeks.”

Marinette dragged her bags into the apartment and closed the door behind her. “Thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it.”

Jason shrugged as he pulled a drink out of the refrigerator. “Whatever. I’ll be on a mission, so I won’t be around anyway and it will shut Roy up during the mission.”

“Well, I appreciate it, regardless,” she sighed collapsing on the stool at the kitchen island. “I was going to stay at a hotel but Roy went all… dad mode, which is ridiculous because we’re almost the same age. Said it ‘wasn’t safe’. Like I can’t protect myself or something.” She took a cookie from the jar Jason offered to her. “I’m about 90% sure that’s some kind of misogynistic bullshit.” She narrowed her eyes at the thought and took an aggressive bite out of the cookie, instantly scrunching her face in disgust and glaring at the store bought cookie in her hand. She pushed it away with an offended scowl. “Next time we spar, I’m going to kick his ass extra hard.”

Jason snickered and took a pointed bite of the same kind of cookie. “Do it outside of the suit and he might just listen.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “You think I can’t?”

Jason looked her up and down sizing her up and shrugged with a teasing grin. “You’re a little… little, Pixie.”

“Kicked your ass a few times,” she grumbled frowning at the counter.

“In the suit,” Jason pointed out. “You’re not always in the suit though, especially when you’re designing.” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth with a smirk. “However, if we were to have a go now…” He shrugged, letting her fill in the rest of the sentence, because she knew as well as he did, that she wouldn’t stand a chance against him without her powers.

She looked up at him with an undecipherable expression, but before he could ask if she was okay, she typed something on her phone and tucked it in her purse. Jason narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously sudden innocent looking expression, but couldn’t figure out her game yet. He whipped his head toward the flash of red before whipping it back to her.

She hadn’t moved so she couldn’t have done anything… yet. He’d have to be careful until he left to protect himself. He picked up his drink again and took a large swig. His eyes bulged and he spit out the drink. “What the fuck?” He looked at his drink then glared at her venomously. She might have even been intimidated by it if she was looking at him, but she was curled into a ball from laughing so hard.

“How the fuck did you do that?” he growled, sounding more exasperated than angry.

Marinette grinned. “Secret for us ‘pixies’,” she singsonged.

He leveled a finger at her. “No magic in my apartment… unless it’s directed at tormenting Bruce.”

Marinette opened her eyes wide in what might have been a convincing facsimile of innocence if he didn’t know her better. “But using magic anywhere in Gotham and especially using it to upset one of his sons would torment Bruce, so…”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I can still kick you out,” he threatened with no heat behind it. “I don’t even let my family in my place usually.”

Marinette waved him off. “Right, and deal with Roy?” She scoffed. “You won’t for the same reason I agreed; it isn’t worth the lecture or him getting Lian involved. Her kitten eyes are worse than mine.”

Jason huffed but nodded in agreement. “Fine, whatever. Your room is the second on the left.”

Marinette’s expression eased. “Thank you again. This is going to be fun. I promise. I’ll even make some actually edible cookies for you when you get back.”

Jason scoffed. “Don’t have too much fun in my apartment without me. I come back to a destroyed apartment…”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to destroy your apartment while you’re gone.” She cringed dramatically and looked up with fear-filled eyes. “When do you come back again… exactly?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s not funny. You better not.”

“Ooohhh, so scary,” she laughed and shook her head. “Does that actually work on other people?”

Jason narrowed his eyes even further and huffed. “Yes. People are rightfully afraid. I’m a bad guy.”

“Yeah sure,” she scoffed. “’Scary’ is not what I think of when I think of Red Hood.”

“Oh, and what do you think of?” he grinned, leaning closer to her, waggling his eyebrows.

Marinette groaned and pushed his face away. Her eyes softened as she continued to look at him. “Something else,” she finally answered. She gave him a gentle smile. “Maybe I’ll even tell you someday.” Marinette took a sip, letting the quiet settle and the moment pass before continuing. “So, you don’t let your family in your apartment?”

Jason continued to stare at her for a few seconds, brows slightly furrowed as he tried to figure out what she meant. He shook his head and took a drink. “My family doesn’t understand boundaries. If I let them in, they’ll never leave.”

“So you just never let them in in the first place,” she nodded in understanding and chuckled lightly as she thought of her family. “Yeah, I can understand that. My parents are like that. No boundaries. I love them but…” she shook her head. “They’re a lot.”

“Yeah, like that, but without the love part,” he scoffed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. Tough guy, cold heart.” She nodded in mock solemnity. “If I didn’t know you… I still wouldn’t believe you.”

“Okay, you know what? I don’t have to take this in my own apartment. I’m leaving,” Jason grumbled trying to sound more annoyed than he felt. He grabbed another handful of cookies and went to the front door to grab his bag.

Marinette watched him leave with an amused smile. “You think you’re not going to get the same on the mission?”

“Yeah, but then I won’t be in my own apartment,” he shrugged. He opened the door and turned to give her a salute and a roguish smile. “See you in a few weeks, Pixie.”

><><><><><><

Jason shuffled out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another in his hands to dry his hair. The mission had gone nothing like he thought it would go. Things went to Hell quick right after they landed, so the two weeks they were supposed to have to get settled and set up some kind of a base and initiate some plays were suddenly compressed into a few hours.

Then they had an entire network collapsing right in front of them. Honestly, like hunting animals on a leash. All they had to do was walk in, grab the head of the network and his officers, and toss them in jail. They didn’t even have to use guns, which was a disappointment, honestly. Nothing hard, but relentless. He hadn’t slept in long enough to make Tim proud and now that he was clean, all he wanted to do was collapse in bed. He may not even put clothes on. Hell, he may not even make it to bed before falling asleep.

A choking noise made him freeze suddenly. He took the towel off his head and looked up, bracing for a fight, but froze instead. He had completely forgotten Marinette, who was now staring at him wide eyed and ruddy cheeked and carrying several bags from the local fabric store, was staying with him. He quickly grabbed the towel around his waist just to be safe, with an awkward smile. “Hey,” he eked out stiffly.

“I thought… um… I thought you were going to be on a mission for another week,” Marinette stuttered out, looking decidedly anywhere but Jason’s direction. She blew away the strands of hair that feel out of her messy bun and into her face, focusing on that task instead of the moisture that was still clinging to his torso.

“Mission ended early,” he answered breathlessly. He cleared his throat quietly and stood up straighter. “Boyfriend found out the Big Bad was cheating on him and started working with us,” he elaborated, his voice finally sounding more confident.

Marinette snuck a glance over to Jason and looked away immediately, her cheeks instantly flushing again. “Sounds deserved.” She glared down at her purse. “And rather fortuitous for you.”

“Guess I owe you a thank you for that,” Jason quipped. He rocked back and forth on his heels, eyes darting around. “Might have to keep you around,” he joked.

Marinette’s eyes suddenly widened. “Did… you weren’t expecting to be here when I was. Did you want me to… I can look for another place to stay,” she offered.

Jason’s eyes widened as well. “What! No. No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “We’ll make it work.” He looked down at his body and chuckled nervously. “I just have to keep in mind I’m not the only one here now. Can’t walk around naked anymore.”

Marinette looked down at his amazingly chiseled, glistening ten pack, the v of muscles just above his hip peeking out from his towel and looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing deeper red than Red Hood’s helmet. “Right, yeah… make it… work…” She looked down at the bags and held them up toward Jason without looking at him. “Well, I better get back to work now,” she glanced at Jason from the corner of her eyes and let out a long breath. “Bye.”

She turned on her heel and scuttled away but paused after a few steps. “Oh! Do you want me to make dinner for you? You must be starving.”

“No, I’m just going to pass out for the next week,” he assured her, “but thanks.”

Marinette nodded, still avoiding looking at him. “Okay. Night then. I’ll try to work quietly.”

Jason waved her off. “Honestly, you could empty an entire magazine right outside my door and I’d probably sleep through it. Go ahead and work as loud as you want. Night.”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She shook her head and looked back at Jason’s closed door. “How am I supposed to work now?” she grumbled

><><><><><><

Jason didn’t emerge from his room until late into the next afternoon. He started walking out to the kitchen in nothing but his boxers, yawning wide and scratching his stomach, not really taking in anything around him, until he heard noises coming from the kitchen. He cursed quietly and quickly ran back into the room to pull on a t-shirt and sweatpants. He really needed to remember Marinette was living with him for a few more weeks and he couldn’t just walk around half naked anymore.

That was not the kind of arrangement Marinette had agreed to when she agreed to stay with him. Not to mention, Roy would never let him hear the end of it if he walked in on Roy’s basically adopted little sister in nothing but his boxers. And if it made Marinette uncomfortable, Roy would never forgive him, not that Jason would either.

He paused at the end of the end of the hallway when he saw Marinette in the kitchen. She was a flurry of movement, dancing around to some music only she could hear. He leaned against the wall corner with a grin as he watched her, twirling and swaying and rocking her hips as she sang along quietly to her song. He laughed out loud when she struck a dramatic pose at what must have been a crescendo moment in the song, before going back to swaying.

Marinette spun around to look at the noise, her cheeks flushing at having gotten caught. She scowled playfully at him and threw the kitchen towel that was thrown over her shoulder at him. He caught it with a playful smile. “Good moves there, Pixie.”

“You’re right they are. You’re lucky to have seen them.” She huffed and turned back to the pot on the stove. “They might not be as impressive as fighting moves,” she said a bit more bitterly than she meant to, but shook her head and gave him a smirk, “but they’re still pretty good.”

He chuckled and made his way to the refrigerator, grabbing a drink before he let her finish whatever she was making. “I hope you like dumplings,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” he asked confused at the non sequitur.

She smiled at him. “Dumplings. I made dumplings for dinner. I hope you like them,” she elaborated slowly.

Jason shook his head. “Making me dinner wasn’t part of the deal, Pixie. I don’t expect you to act like… you don’t owe me for this. I can make my own dinner.”

Marinette scoffed. “I know I don’t have to. I wanted to. I know what it’s like to get back from a tough mission. And I’m probably not going to make dinner again until after the gala so, take advantage now.” She moved swiftly, scooping the dumplings up and sliding them onto a large plate. She poured sauce from the pot on the stove into two little ramekins and held one out for Jason.

Jason shook his head again. He closed his eyes as he took a breath. He was not going to let Marinette think he expected her to serve him. He agreed to let her stay with him so she would have a safe place to work, so she could focus on her commissions, which had to be done in the next two weeks. He wasn’t going to let her waste time on him. “No, I’m…”

His eyes bulged out when he felt something get shoved into his mouth. Marinette was grinning smugly in front of him, licking her fingers. He almost choked at the sight but covered by glaring at her, completely ineffectually, judging by how her grin widened. He chewed the food in his mouth so he could lecture her, but changed his mind as soon as he tasted it. It was actually good, really good. He could tell the instant Marinette knew he liked it. Her eyes lit up even brighter and she twirled away triumphantly, humming to herself.

He couldn’t allow that to continue. He glared at the back of her head. “You can’t just shove things in people’s mouths. That’s just rude,” he chastised as he scooped half the dumplings onto his plate without breaking eye contact with her. “You’re going to get a finger bitten off, and you’re going to deserve it. And then how are you going to do your commissions?” he continued, never moving his glare from her as he grabbed one of the ramekins and took a seat opposite her, his face still contorted in mock anger.

Marinette hummed in acknowledgement, not at all trying to hide her smirk. “You’re right. I can take those off your hands,” she motioned toward his plate and leaned over to take it.

Jason wrapped his arms around his plate and scowled at her. “No, fuck off. These are mine.” Marinette laughed and took a bite of her own dumplings. “These are amazing,” he finally admitted. He eyed her suspiciously. “Are you sure you made them?”

Marinette scoffed. “You sound surprised.”

“Well… yeah. This is better than Alfred’s.” He froze for a second. He looked back at her and leveled a threatening finger at her. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Marinette chuckled and took another bite herself. “I suppose I can do that for you. I think that makes us even though for, you know...” she motioned toward the apartment, “and for insinuating I’m not an amazing baker.”

Jason shook his head with a smile. “I think it might just.”

“So,” Marinette started with a smile, leaning forward as if passing a secret. “Tell me more about this mission. What did the boyfriend do? Did he get appropriate revenge?”

Jason snorted and took another bite, leaning forward conspiratorially as well. “Oh he definitely did. I aspire to be that petty…”

><><><><><><

Marinette was humming. Jason was trying to read peacefully and Marinette was humming, interrupting his peaceful, calming, quiet reading environment. And the most annoying part of it was that it didn’t bother him. In fact, he liked it. He couldn’t focus on his book, one of his favorites, because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her for more than a few minutes at a time. Every time she moved, his eyes moved back to her unbidden. Every sip from her water bottle, every grasp of her fabric, every flip of her sketchbook to compare it to the item in her hand, drew his attention.

All of which was a problem, because she was Roy’s self-declared little sister. He needed to stop watching her like he was. He looked away decidedly. He wasn’t going to watch her anymore. It was creepy and it wasn’t going to amount to anything. She was out of the hero world and he wasn’t going to force her back into it through him. He was going to read this book again. He was freaking Red Hood. He could ignore a distraction and focus on the task at hand: watching Marinette… He groaned internally. That was not the task at hand.

He looked over at her again when she harshly grabbed her sketchbook. He couldn’t stop the smile that tugged his lips up when she quirked her lips to the side and scrunched her nose in frustration. He shook his head and looked back at the same page he’d been looking at for the last hour.

“You ever going to turn that page,” Marinette asked without looking up, a small, knowing smirk pulling on her lips.

Jason froze for just a second. “I was distracted,” he answered defensively.

“Oh,” Marinette looked up with a skeptical raised brow. “By?”

“Your humming. It’s hard to read with that going on.” Jason cringed as he said it. It wasn’t a lie, it was distracting, just not in the way he was implying.

Marinette paled. “Oh, sorry. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I’ll try to stop.”

“No, it’s fine. Whatever,” he shrugged in as casual way as he could manage. “I’ll get used to it.”

Marinette frowned at him. “But you shouldn’t have to. This is your home and you’re letting me stay here.”

“Marinette,” Jason groaned. He set down his book to look at her. “It’s fine. You’re here to work. It helps you work. I can handle a few days of reading with an accompaniment.”

“Jason,” she started, shaking her head.

“Marinette,” Jason interrupted. “If you stop, I’m going to turn music on, just to spite you.”

Marinette huffed at him. “You’re a child, you know that?”

Jason grinned at her. “It’s part of my charm.”

“I think there’s a problem with my translation,” she cocked her head to the side in mock innocence. “I didn’t think ‘charm’ meant annoying and immature.” She quirked her lips to the side again. “I guess I need to practice more.”

Jason narrowed his eyes playfully. “Excuse you. I’m charming and debonair. I’m a fucking catch.”

Marinette scoffed, but there was mischievous look in her eye. “Like a disease.”

Jason stared at her for a few seconds before suddenly breaking the silence. “Okay. That’s it.” He moved before Marinette could even register he was moving. He grabbed the pillow behind him and lobbed it directly at her.

Marinette caught it with an offended gasp before it could hit her. Jason grinned at her and raised a challenging eyebrow at her. She grinned back and motioned like she was going to throw the pillow back but kept her grip on it, tossing a pillow with her other hand instead. It hit him directly in his face, bounced off and hit one of his display cases. It swayed back and forth on the wall a few times before it settled, slightly crooked.

“Hey!” He pointed a threatening finger at her. “What did I say about destroying my apartment?”

“That was while you were gone,” Marinette answered calmly. She threw another pillow that smacked him in directly in the face, knocking him down in the chair. “You didn’t say anything about while you were here.”

He looked back at her in surprise, making her grin wider in response. “Oh it’s on now,” he threatened with a smile.

“Big words from someone who can’t even hit his target,” Marinette taunted, backing away from him and grabbing all the pillows she could find as she moved.

He mock glared at her and lobbed it back at her, missing her by centimeters when she ducked out of the way. She just made it past the couch when Jason started lobbing all the pillows he could find at her. She returned the fire with her pillows. Their laughter bouncing off the walls.

><><><><><><

Jason eased up the window and slipped through, keeping an eye out for anyone that might see him slipping in. He finally turned his attention to the room he entered and immediately jumped realizing he had stepped on a swath of fabric on the floor. He tried to jump on an open portion of the floor but there were scraps of fabric everywhere and he was utterly unsure which were offcuts and which were purposeful. He eventually lost his game of fabric hopscotch unable to find a safe place to plant his foot. He hit the floor with a loud thud, waking Marinette who had fallen asleep at the table she was using as a sewing table. She looked around confused and finally zeroed in on Jason. She jumped up to help him. “Jason! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize I was walking into a minefield when I came home today,” he grumbled. Marinette tried to help him up but he stood up without it.

She looked around guiltily. “Yeah, I… I made a path to make sure you would be safe if you came home tonight… but from the door. I didn’t…” she looked over at the window and back to Jason with a sorrowful expression, rubbing her arms in remorse. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” She looked him over, checking for any indication of injury.

Jason groaned internally and reminded himself to bash his head against something when he got back to his room. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. It had just been a long night. He didn’t have the right to take it out on her. “I just spent the night fighting thugs, Pixie,” he assured her softly. “I can withstand a little fall in my own house.”

Marinette looked around guiltily again. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up before I go to bed.”

Jason scoffed, taking note of the bags under her eyes. Not that he needed those as a clue. He lived here. He knew what kind of hours she was keeping. “And when will that be?”

Marinette shrunk away from him, focusing entirely on the fabric in front of her. “Um…”

“How about we both go to bed?” he suggested, his tone making it seem like more of a conclusion than a suggestion. Marinette finally looked at him to stare at him wide eyed. He furrowed his brow trying to figure out her reaction. It only took a second for realization to hit. His cheeks darkened as soon as it did. “To our beds. Our separate beds.”

Marinette looked back at her work. “I just have to finish one more thing before I go to bed.” She looked back up at him with a pleading smile. “And then I’ll clean up and then I’ll go to bed.”

“Right.” He nodded and tossed her over his shoulder in one smooth motion and started walking toward her bedroom.

“Jason!” she screeched. “Jason, what are you doing?”

“Making you go to bed before you run yourself ragged,” he answered conversationally.

“Jason, I don’t have time for this!” she begged. She tried squirming out of his grip, but it was too tight for her to get any leverage.

“You haven’t had more than a few hours of sleep in days,” he responded calmly. He craned his head over his shoulder, trying to look at her as they passed by the kitchen and another thought occurred to him. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Marinette paused her squirming for a second and looked up to meet his eyes guiltily before looking away. “I’ll be fine.”

Jason sighed deeply and shook his head. “It’s like living with Tim. You will be fine,” he nodded in agreement, “once you’ve slept.”

“I’m a grown adult. You do realize that, right?” She huffed when he ignored her, continuing to walk down the hall. She craned her neck to the side, trying hard not to look at his ass as he carried her, because there was no way to do that respectfully. She pulled on his shirt in a futile attempt to straighten up, but her hand slipped and she fell again. This was definitely not working. She needed a different approach.

She suddenly smirked remembering his flushed cheeks from earlier. “And how are you planning on keeping me in bed?” Marinette snarked. “You going to join me? Hold me down in bed? Cuddle me into submission?” Jason continued walking without acknowledging her comment, hardly a falter in his step. Marinette gasped dramatically. “And they were roommates.”

Jason kept moving forward, refusing to let her see how much her words were affecting him, because joining her sounded awfully appealing and his hand on her thighs, holding her from squirming off his shoulder felt awfully nice. He took a few seconds to compose himself before responding. “Not roommates. My room. You’re a guest. And I’m not going to hold you down. I don’t have to, I’ll tell Lian on you.” He smirked at her as he dropped her onto the bed with a thunk, fully aware he’d won the argument.

Marinette gasped in betrayal. “That’s cheating!”

“I think that’s a translation issue. I think you meant to say ruthlessly efficient,” he answered innocently, his smirk deepening.

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest with a pout. “That most definitely is not what I meant.”

Jason laughed as he backed out of the room. “Nope, definitely a translation issue,” he called back over his shoulder. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it with a deep exhale. His dreams were going to be filled with a bed, black hair, soft lips, firm thighs, happy sighs, and cuddling… eventually.

><><><><><><

She’s Roy’s little sister. She’s Roy’s little sister. Jason repeated it to himself over and over again as Marinette’s gentle, deft fingers brushed against his bare chest.

“How does that feel?” Her voice was so light and quiet he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if her lips weren’t so close to his ears already.

Jason froze for a moment, the feel of her breath on his exposed skin, the feeling burning him and cooling him down at the same time. God, why didn’t he walk around the apartment shirtless more often? If this was the reaction he was going to get, he would have to do it every day.

“Jason?” she asked again, concern leaking into voice, her eyes searched his for any indication of a concussion.

Jason blinked and shook himself out of his stupor. “Yeah. No. Yeah. It feels fine. I’ll be fine.”

Marinette eyed him doubtfully. Finally, she moved, smacking him upside the head. “Don’t act tough. I need to know if you’re really okay or if I need more ice packs. You really should have gone to the cave. Alfred has training for this.”

“I trust you,” Jason assured her, his voice as soft as his eyes as he watched her fret over him.

“Well that’s great. I’m glad you’d trust me to take care of one of your books. That doesn’t mean you should trust me to sew up a wound!” she groaned in frustration.

Jason scoffed roughly, turning into a cough. “There’s fewer people I’d trust with one of my books than I would to sew me up.”

Marinette stared at him with furrowed brows before smacking his shoulder. “You really need to work on your priorities.”

Jason caressed his shoulder gently, pouting at her. “Can one of them be not getting beaten up by my roommate?

Marinette glared at him. “Absolutely,” she nodded. “And you know how to avoid that?” She raised an eyebrow at him, and continued before he could respond. “Take care of yourself and admit when you need help. But noooooo, you’ve got to be the big, tough man and prove it by letting yourself wallow in pain... like a man. You overdramatic, extra jackass.”

“I’m fine,” he tried to assure her he was taking this seriously and he understood, but the upturned corners of his lips betrayed him.

“I don’t know if you’re trying to convince me or you with that, but I’m entirely confident you’re convincing neither,” Marinette deadpanned with a huff.

“I can handle it. I barely even notice it.” He tried to shrug but a spike of pain flashed through his shoulder. He tried to swallow his grunt of pain, but Marinette’s expression let him know he hadn’t been entirely effective at it.

Marinette gave him a flat look and threw the bag of ice at him a little harder than necessary He caught it against his shoulder fighting the instinct to flinch, but apparently was just as successful as he had been hiding the grunt of pain, judging by the judgmental smirk that graced Marinette's lips. “You were saying?”

“As long as people aren’t actively hitting it,” he tried petulantly. “You just throw hard.”

Marinette scoffed. “According to you, I’m too little to throw too hard.” Jason rolled his eyes and huffed.

She focused on packing the supplies away in silence for a few moments, missing the slight frown that passed Jason’s face as he watched her avoiding his eyes. He didn’t like it. It didn’t feel right. He wanted the teasing looks back. “I can’t believe you’re lecturing me on self preservation,” he teased, trying to break her out of whatever was causing her to avoid his eyes.

Marinette finally looked up to give him a flat look. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m lecturing you.”

“Wow. I must look really dire,” he grinned playfully.

“Exactly!” Marinette exclaimed, playing along with his act, but dropped her eyes back to her task of packing the first aid supplies. “So… roommate, huh?” she said teasingly, but kept her eyes on the supplies.

Jason looked over at her for just a moment before looking away again. He started to get up with a grunt. “For the next few weeks anyway. Then you’re free of me.”

Marinette furrowed her brow. “I think it’s the other way around. Then you don’t have to deal with my design mess in your pristine apartment or my dirty dishes from baking. You can actually think without my noise and you can walk around…” she paused for just a second but covered it my picking up the first aid kit, “...walk around in just your towel again. You know, get back to being comfortable again.”

Jason stared at her for a second before moving to collapse on the couch. He scoffed as he moved. “If you’re so concerned, I could always start walking around in just a towel again,” he offered, only kind of joking.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed bright red at the thought of Jason walking around half-naked. She turned toward the bathroom so he wouldn’t see it, just in case he turned to look at her, missing the furtive look he sent her way to see her reaction. “I mean… if that’s…” she shook her head. There was no way she’d be able to focus on finishing her commissions for the gala if Jason was walking around the apartment in just a towel. Hell, she might not even be able to breathe. “That’s an option,” she finished weakly. She was definitely going to have very scandalous dreams that night.

><><><><><><

She’s Roy’s little sister. She’s Roy’s little sister. She’s Roy’s little sister. Jason repeated the mantra over and over to himself as he watched Marinette stumble into the living room, hair still dripping from her shower, in his shirt and maybe shorts on underneath. His shirt hung low enough that it was possible she was wearing something under it, but he couldn’t see it. Did he hope she had shots in underneath? Because the idea of Marinette in nothing but one if his shirts, the shirt so large in her it fell off her shoulder exposing her delicate skin and the strap of her bright red bra...

“You’re… that’s my… you’re in my shirt,” he stuttered out. He scrunched his eyes closed. Yes, he did hope she had shorts on under the shirt, because she was Roy’s little sister.

Marinette blinked and looked down as if just noticing the shirt. “What? Oh. Sorry.” She plopped down on the couch next to him. “I thought it was one of Kim’s. It was the first thing I found when I got out of the shower. And it was so soft and comfy.” She hugged the shirt against her body and wiggled in her seat to accentuate getting comfortable with a contented hum. “Did you want it back?”

Jason stared at her in a daze for a seconds, his mind unable to get past the sight of Marinette wriggling around in his shirt, getting his scent all over her, making that sound. He turned away to focus on something else, his mind finally catching up to what she said. He sputtered suddenly, trying desperately not to let the image of Marinette stripping off his shirt in front of him overwhelm him.

“Jason?” She waited for a moment for him to respond, when he didn’t, her eyes widened, suddenly very awake. She started to get up and make her way back to her room. “I’m sorry. That… I shouldn’t have…” she stuttered self-consciously.

“No, no,” Jason interrupted loudly. He lunged for her, capturing her wrist just before she was out of range to pull her back to the couch. “No,” he continued more calmly, “that’s okay. It looks better on you anyway.” He gave her a charming smile. “Any time you want to wear my clothes, feel free.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side, studying him intently as if trying to determine his sincerity. She must have determined he was sincere because she nodded and dropped back down on the couch next to him. She grabbed a handful of his popcorn and wiggled into the seat. He wrapped his arms around his bowl protectively and scowled playfully at her. “So was that a compliment to you or an insult to yourself?” she asked popping some of the popcorn into her mouth.

Jason shrugged. “Why can’t it be both? And if you want food, I’ll make you dinner. It’s probably been too long since you ate a real meal.”

Marinette scoffed and grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Because insulting yourself is going to get you lectured. You’d have to sit there while I tell you all the great things I know about you.” She yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s a long list and I’m tired, but I’ll do it if you make me. Also, eating takes too much effort. I’m just going to sleep.”

Jason studied her for a second and shook his head definitely planning on making three full meals for her the next day. He refocused on the television for a few seconds trying and failing to stop himself from glancing at her every few seconds. “So,” he started with forced ambivalence a few minutes later, “Who’s Kim? Ex-girlfriend? Current girlfriend?”

Marinette blinked at him a few times before chuckling, the laugh turning into a yawn. “I forgot Americans think of Kim as a girl’s name.” She shook her head and looked back at the television. “No, Kim’s one of my friends. We’ve been friends for… ever.” She closed her eyes and snuggled into his arm. “I’m actually going to go see him next month. He’s coming to Virginia for a competition. If he places in the top 5, which he will,” she added confidently, “he’s definitely going to the Olympics.”

Jason fought looking down at her, watching her rest peacefully against his arm, and definitely did not want to focus on the contented expression on her face as she did. He especially didn’t want to enjoy the feel of her warm body against his when she was talking about another friend, an Olympic caliber friend, who’s clothes she stole and still wore.

His heart almost stopped when she opened her eyes again to look up at him sleepily. “I’m going to get to meet his daughter!” she barely got out coherently. She closed her eyes again and laid her head on his shoulder again. “I haven’t seen them since the wedding. Missed the entire pregnancy. Had video calls with them but it’s not the same,” she whined.

Jason couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled up or the fond look in his eyes as he watched her. The laugh seemed to shake Marinette out of her sleep. She opened her eyes and blinked at him blearily. She looked down at their position and jerked away. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” She looked away and shook her head. “That was inappropriate. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jason tried to reassure her with a soft voice. “If I didn’t like it, I would have pushed you off. Dick can attest. I have no issue doing it when I don’t want someone touching me.”

Marinette paused and looked at him curiously for a few seconds. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly and nodded. “Okay. I should probably go to my bed now though. Night.”

Jason nodded. “Right. Sweet dreams.” She continued walking without turning around. Jason fell back against the back of the couch, banging his head slightly on the back and ran his hand over his face. ‘Sweet dreams’ he mouthed to himself incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get it together, Todd.” He opened his eyes as a thought struck him and quickly scrunched his face in disgust. “God, now I sound like Damian.”

><><><><><><

Jason slammed the door open and closed again in quick succession, shaking the walls of the apartment with the force. Marinette looked up from her sewing machine, her eyes wide in shock. Jason laser focused on the refrigerator, throwing his motorcycle helmet on the counter hard enough to crack one of the tiles on the backsplash. He grabbed a cold beer and leaned against the island as he cracked his beer open. He downed the entire can in one drink before crumpling it up and chucking it back toward the sink.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers and before making his way over to the couch and collapsing on it. He finally looked up to acknowledge Marinette, motioning toward the glasses. Marinette shook her head and motioned toward her sewing with a sympathetic smile. He huffed and poured himself a full glass of whiskey.

“Wow,” Marinette commented almost absentmindedly. Whiskey wasn’t her drink, but she was fully confident that was not how it was supposed to be drunk. She set her sewing aside and joined him on the couch. “Must have been a bad night. What happened? Breakout?”

“Patrol was just fucking fine,” he grumbled and downed the entire drink. He hissed as it burned his throat. “It’s always fucking fine. What else would it be? It’s what I do best after all.” He poured himself another drink and downed it immediately as well.

Marinette flinched in sympathetic pain, unsure what happened, but it definitely had something to do with patrol. She opened her mouth but Jason cut in before she could even get a sound out. “If you’re going to comment on my drinking you can haul your judgmental ass somewhere else for the night.”

Marinette blinked in surprise a few times before holding up a remote. “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch something. I’ve found having a movie on helps when I’m drinking to forget.”

Jason stared at her uncertainly for a few seconds, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not. He finally looked away and took another drink to swallow down the guilt for having snapped at her. “Yeah, fine. No superhero shit.” Marinette chuckled and started scrolling through the different options. “I thought you didn’t have time for hanging out. I heard you tell Timmy and Catboy yesterday. Not to mention I haven’t missed you still being awake when I got up the past few mornings.”

“Well,” she started not looking at him as she spoke, “I’m a bit ahead of where I need to be because of those all-nighters, so I have a bit of time to spend watching a movie with my… roommate.” She bit her lower lip, refusing to look at him.

Jason scoffed and took a drink from his glass. That was an utter lie and they both knew it. He didn’t need her avoiding-eye-contact tell to know that. She had a shit ton to do and would be up all night the next few nights again because of this. Marinette looked back at him with an excited grin. “This is it. This is what we’re watching. I don’t even care if you don’t want to. We’re watching this.” Jason noted the movie and grunted in approval.

Marinette tried to watch him from the corner of her eye, without him noticing. If he was acting normally, there’s no way he wouldn’t have noticed, but as it was, he was too preoccupied with his drink and the movie to pay much attention to her. She tried to gauge how best to help him. He seemed like someone who didn’t like being pushed. Who would share when he damn well felt like it, so she sat next to him quietly, making her position open, but not invading his space.

“Every once in a while, I get it in my head that I could do something else, you know?” he commented after a few more glasses of whiskey. “But then… this is all I’m meant to be. I’m a weapon. That’s what I’m good at. It’s who I am.”

She looked at him wide eyed, trying to puzzle out where that came from. Finally, she decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was the sentiment. She could deal with the cause of it later. “Did you want to hear what I think of when I think of Red Hood? The first thing that comes to mind when I think of you?”

He looked up with a smirk, his eyes not quite selling the sentiment. “Is it when I saved your ass?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I think that went both ways.” She turned toward him, fixing him with a serious look. “It was around that time though. After the fight, you know…” she looked down uncomfortably, “that fight.” She took a deep breath and looked back up. “Angelique, my friends’ daughter was so upset and we hadn’t come back yet. You sat there with her, calming her. You spoke so gently with her. You in your full badass, fear-me, assassins-take-tips-from-me getup, talking to her in animated tones about Angelina Ballerina, reassuring her and telling her how brave she was.”

She gave him a soft look that melted his heart. “That’s what I picture when I think about you. When I think of you, I don’t think of you fighting, I don’t think of you acting tough, I think of those moments. I see your heart. You were trained to be a fighter, and you learned that lesson very well. But who you are? Your natural inclination? That’s to help others, especially kids. It’s to nurture and protect. So if you are going by what you’re really good at, what’s most natural for you, I’d say you were meant to do something where you work with kids. Little kids, teenagers, young adults. That’s who you are.”

Jason stared at her hard for a few seconds and finally looked back toward the movie. He sniffled slightly and looked back down at his drink before downing all of it. “I can’t believe you remember that,” he scoffed weakly.

Marinette smiled and returned her focus to the movie, pretending she didn’t see the glassiness in his eyes. “She does too. She still talks about the ‘super cool red bird hero’. She wants to know when she’s going to get to see you again.”

Jason filled his glass again. “I’m not a hero,” he grumbled.

“You are to her,” Marinette said quietly. “And to her parents… and to me.”

Jason scoffed but refused to look at her again, focusing on the movie and his drink. He downed another drink and pushed the glass away, settling back against the couch, leaning slightly toward Marinette. He watched the rest of the movie in silence, until her head fell gently onto his shoulder. He looked down at her sleeping form, smiling to himself. He didn’t know what it was about his shoulder that made her feel so comfortable she could fall asleep so easily, but it was now his favorite part of his body.

When the movie finished, Jason took a few more beats to watch her before easing his arm around her shoulders and another under her knees, trying to move as smoothly as possible so he didn’t wake her up. As soon as he stood up, she snuggled into his chest, causing his breath to falter. He froze for a moment to make sure she didn’t wake up before continuing to her bedroom and laying her down gently.

He reached out to brush some hair from her face but stopped before he made contact. That was entirely too intimate. He curled his hands into fists so tightly, his knuckles were turning white, in order to keep him from reaching out again. She was Roy’s little sister. He couldn’t do that to Roy. He knew how protective Roy was of the family he chose. There was no way he would approve and he’d never forgive Jason.

He sighed and shook his hands out. He took a few breaths to calm down his heart and remind himself what their relationship was. His eyes naturally found their way to her, the moonlight illuminating her face and making her hair shine and her face glow. God, she looked ethereal and far, far too good and innocent for him. He needed to leave the room because he desperately wanted to run his fingers along her cheek, but that was not okay. She wasn’t his. It physically hurt to be reminded of that, but it was true, she wasn’t, and she was never going to be.

><><><><><><

Jason watched Marinette dance with Catboy, a frown etched in his face. He was holding her tight, but respectfully, making it clear they were closer than an acquaintance but not quite dating… yet. They were both grinning brightly, eyes only for each other. They moved in sync as if able to anticipate the other’s next move and adapt accordingly. It was graceful and elegant and everything Jason was not. They looked like they were made for each other.

He huffed and took a long drink from his glass as he watched her. The gala’s decorations seemed to have been designed specifically to flatter Marinette. Every time she spun, her dress flared out, catching the light and drawing everyone's attention to her. He could see the faces turning toward her and Adrien seemed to realize it too, getting a gleam in his eye and spinning her out again, much to Marinette’s delight.

“You hold that glass any tighter, you’re going to break it,” Roy teased coming up next to Jason. He followed his line of sight and chuckled. “Just ask her out you big coward.”

“She seems happy enough where she is,” he grumbled into his glass.

“With Adrien? Nah, they’re not like that.” Jason looked at them dancing pointedly and looked back at Roy flatly. Roy looked over at Cass and Dick dancing just as closely, smiles just as wide, pointedly and back to Jason flatly. “They’re more like siblings than she is with me. Stop looking for excuses, man.”

Jason groaned and finally turned away from Marinette’s direction. “I’m not going to hit on your sister. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Wouldn’t do that to…” Roy stared at him, a flabbergasted expression on his face. He continued to stare at Jason for a few more seconds, hoping the pieces would fall into place and he could understand what Jason was talking about, but no matter how long he stared, they didn’t. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m not going to try to date someone you think of as your sister. I know how protective you are and you want her out of the whole hero thing. I’m leaving her alone,” he said resolutely. He turned away from the gala and started to walk away.

Roy stared at him incredulously. “Jason…” he huffed out a laugh and stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Of all the things I thought I’d have to…” He shook his head and looked Jason in the eye. “Jason. Why do you think I set her up in your place?”

Jason stared at him for a few seconds. He opened his mouth to answer but Roy cut him off with a smirk. “I could have asked Tim or even Bruce, which, let’s be honest would have been a safer choice, especially considering you weren’t supposed to be in town for most of the time she was going to be there.” He took a step closer, his smirk widened. “I set her up in your apartment so you would realize what the rest of us already knew; you two are fucking perfect for each other.”

Jason shook his head. His face scrunched in confusion, because what Roy was saying didn’t make any sense. It was the exact opposite of everything he knew. “You wanted her out of all this,” he answered slowly.

Roy sighed and slumped slightly. He looked away before looking back at Jason with a serious look. “She’s never going to be completely free of it. She’s in charge of… well, I’ll let her tell you that, but she can’t ever really escape it, not without serious repercussions. And if she has to be involved, at least peripherally, she might as well have someone who can protect her.”

“You…” he started slowly trying to let the information set in.

“Approve,” he stated factually. “Yes, yes I do. So does Lian. Vehemently so,” he nodded. “And I’m not going to be the one to tell her you wimped out and that’s why Aunt Mari isn’t with Uncle Jay. So,” he clapped Jason on the back. “Stop being a dumbass and go get her.” He shoved Jason onto the dancefloor toward Marinette.

Jason looked back to glare at him, but he was already walking away. Jason swallowed heavily and worked his way over to Marinette, arriving just as the song ended. She and Adrien turned to him. Marinette gave him a questioning but kind look, but it was Adrien’s look that annoyed Jason. He was looking at Jason with a knowing, meaningful look. No wonder he got along so well with Dick.

He extended his hand to Marinette. “Dance?” He mentally face palmed at his lack of eloquence. What was it about her that made his brain freeze?

Marinette didn’t seem to mind at all, nodding and taking his hand with a warm squeeze. Adrien grinned at them and bowed. “Have fun you two.”

Jason glared at him as he walked away, but his expression softened when he looked back at Marinette. She was looking up at him with a bright smile on her face. “Well, you certainly look charming.” She grinned at her own joke.

Jason rolled his eyes but grinned anyway. “Thank you. And you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Marinette blushed deeply, looking down to try to hide it. “Thank you,” she whispered. She nearly jumped when she felt Jason’s hand rest on her exposed lower back, but shook it off quickly, resting her hand on his bicep and taking his other hand. She looked up at him with a smile, her blush not completely gone, but reduced.

They danced silently for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of the other’s hand against their body. Subconsciously, they moved incrementally closer to each other as they danced until Marinette’s body was flush against Jason’s, now close enough to establish she was closer than an acquaintance… and possibly dating.

“So,” Marinette finally spoke up. She was looking up at him shyly. “You excited to finally get your apartment back to yourself?”

Jason pulled her closer unconsciously at the thought of her leaving. “I forgot you were going to be leaving now. The apartment is going to feel pretty empty with you gone.”

Marinette chuckled. “Just the way you like it, right?”

Jason quirked his head to the side as he contemplated her words. That was true, or it would have been a few weeks ago. He lived alone and he liked it that way. But, he meant what he had said, without her there, it was going to feel empty, cold. That wasn’t what he wanted anymore. “What if I’d miss it?” he offered softly.

“What?” Marinette looked up at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t mean that. She knew how much it all frustrated him, the noise, the mess, stealing his clothes, all of it.

“What if I’d miss the mess and the chaos and the noise?” he pressed.

Marinette shook her head trying not to let her sadness show. It wasn’t her he would miss. He might have decided he liked having another body around, as much as Jason liked to pretend he wasn’t, Jason was a social person. He craved interaction and family. He didn’t need her for that. “Sounds like you want a roommate.”

“What if I want a girlfriend?” he suggested instead.

“What?” She blinked blankly at him.

“I’d miss it because it’s you. I associate it with you, fabric everywhere, songs hummed while it’s quiet, someone to watch movies with. I… it’s only appealing because it’s you. You’re the only one other than me I want to see wearing my clothes. I’d miss you.”

“But... but I’m not your type… like at all. You said so, repeatedly,” she insisted.

Jason shook his head in confusion, trying to make the words right. “What are you talking about? I’ve never in my life said you weren’t my type. I might have said you’re too good for me, but not… what?”

“You like badass women. Women that can kick your ass.” Jason stared at her blankly. “Look at your dating history. All women who could beat you to a pulp. And you’ve said repeatedly you don’t think of me like that, that all my strength comes from my suit,” she elaborated.

Jason furrowed his brow and kept staring at her in confusion. He shook his head. “The only reason I haven’t made a move on you already and tried to romance your socks off is I thought you were trying to escape the hero community and I wasn’t going to drag you back into it.” He cupped her face with one hand and splayed his other hand against her lower back, bringing her closer to him.

“Marinette, you are one of the toughest people I know, and one of the bravest, and I know the entire justice league. You're the most compassionate and caring and definitely, without a doubt far too good for me.”

Marinette’s eyes turned glassy and she offered him a watery smile. “Did you just insult yourself? Because I'm not tired anymore. I can and will list off all your amazing attributes, starting with...”

“No,” Jason interrupted. “I... can I kiss you?”

Marinette grinned brightly and nodded, rising up on her toes to get closer. Jason grinned back and closed the gap. He slid his hand from her face to behind her head, pulling her closer. Marinette snaked her arms around his neck, pulling her body even more against his body. Their lips slid against each other’s in firm but gentle movements. They pulled away from each other just far enough to look into each other’s eyes, sappy grins on both their faces. “And they were roommates,” Marinette whispered with a teasing grin. Jason groaned and shook his head, capturing her lips again to stop her from saying anything else.

#maribat #jasonette #and they were roommates #platonic roynette

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kunimikat · 4 years

Text

How they act after you break up with them.

(I made sure to check but there might be small grammar errors, and this is a long one so strap in 🙇, but hope you enjoy angst+fluff here) but not me actually feeling bad for them after-

Is more out of it then usual.

The reason you broke up with him is because you felt like it wasn’t a real relationship. And more like you sometimes got to talk during class, and sometimes out of school.

He writes in his a separate notebook of ways he could’ve done better

Starts comparing himself to other guys more often

Leaves earlier then everyone else to got to dorms.

Mumbles even more then usual, and sometimes the only person that can snap him out of it is Aizawa.

Sometimes takes it out on his friends

“Hey Deku!-“

“Not right now Uraraka.”

“Oi, Deku nerd, the-“

“Can you not right now Kacchan?”

“HAAH?-“

“Midoryia! Would you like to study?”

“Maybe later Iida...”

Todoroki offered him soba but it resulted in Midoriya slowly slurping up soba as he looked into the void of people

He shut everyone one out and didn’t talk barely most of the week.

He’d take out a lot of his anger during training.

It somehow finally clicks into place how bad you feel and how much you miss him when All Might pull you aside and asks. “Uhhh...Is Young Midoriya ok? I’m getting real worried....ITS NOT LIKE I DONT WORRY ABOUT MY OTHER STUDENTS HAHAHA! HOW’S-

There’s 15 minutes of your life awkwardly telling All Might how all your classmates are doing.

Which made you want to jump off the top of UA at the moment.

You decide to head to his dorm and ask him about it, cause you feel like it’s your fault.

You walk in on him crying, clutching the shirt you bought for him on his birthday.

You almost dropped to your knees in guilt at the sight

You rushed over and sat by him, comforting him, though it wasn’t much as you started crying too.

Basically a crying festival for an hour.

“Please....Please Y/N I love you so much, I promise I’ll make it work, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you, just please...PLEASE don’t leave me.” You kiss him on the lips and then his hand, “Babe it’s not all on you, I promise I’ll do better this time too, I’m so sorry for being selfish, I love you, ok?” Another crying fest.

After you start dating again:

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, and checks into your dorm before he starts a study session.

Helps you with your work before his. ( Though you insist he doesn’t as he’s gotten points off multiple times for turning in his work late.)

Goes on dates every time you have some free space in your schedules. Somehow ends up in an All Might merch shop 80% of the time.

!!CUDDLE SESSIONS AFTER HERO TRAINING AT ALL TIMES!! Even in Recovery Girl’s office, though many times she bops you both on the head and tells you to get out.

(If you both like All Might) You both geek out over new All Might stuff, and his old interviews while wearing an All Might onesies.

(If you like a different hero) You could spend hours bickering on who’s best hero, pulling up recordings and articles on the. With you holding your favorite hero plushie and him wearing All Might pajamas.

And waking up early just to take a long route to school together.

Makes sure to say ‘I love you’ at every small moment, and compliments you, though he can’t take compliments himself-

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“I...I understand, but why?”

Tears well up in his eyes and he for once he keeps eye contact with you, without looking away

It takes everything in you to not breakdown

“I’m sorry Izuku, I just don’t think it’ll work out in the end.” He grabs your hand and holds it both of his. He puts it to his forehead, nearly on his knees at this point. You try not to cry with him, but you knew it wasn’t going to end up a happily ever after in the end. And you wanted to break it off before that could happen.

“Izuku, I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I wish it couldn’t end like this-“

“Then don’t let it. Please Y/N don’t let this end.”

You eyes welled up as you put a hand over your mouth while repeating ‘I’m sorry, so sorry Izuku’. You looked away from him as you slipped your hand out of his, you close your eyes painfully, the tears finally running down your face. You couldn’t help but look back one more time, and almost wanted to run to where he was and take it all back. He sat on his knees, his head in his hands as painful sobs wracked his body. You quickly leave the room, shutting the door behind you.

You both were pretty quiet and emotionless the whole week.

Midoriya was even worse then before,

It got to the point where sometimes he didn’t eat or sleep

He barely responded to anything anyone said

Hell, even Bakugo was worried at some point

Midoriya would always go back to his dorm and cuddle with the gifts you gave him while you were dating.

It took a long time for him to get over it, and even when he thought it did, he still gets emotional over it

Even after highschool it pains him to see your off doing your own thing without you at his side the whole time

Quieter then usual

Is so deep in thought, sometimes forgets he’s in class or what he’s doing

During tests, or while working on assignments he’d be so deep in thought he didn’t realize he broke his pencil, or used his quirk on his desk

Instead of having his usual outburst on people he’d just walk off, or click his tounge and walk off

Even during Hero Lessons he’d be less calculated, and not as pumped up

When anyone tried to ask he’d just say “Fuck off, I’m fine.”

His grades slightly dropped

He had bags under his eyes, and had even worse posture then usual

When it came time to leave, he’d be the first one out, and no one could find out where he’d go

A permanent frown was on his face at all times (basically him most of time but with a deeper frown)

No one knew what to do at this point

It didn’t click with you until one day during Hero Lessons

He was sparring with Kirishima and all of a sudden he fainted

Everyone was surprised to say the most

You rushed with Kirishima to Recover Girls office

You both almost busted the door off it’s hinges

She wacked you both on the head but quickly tended to Bakugo, surprising you both as she checked on him

“Oh....I wouldn’t have expected this from Bakugo.” You and Kirishima had confused looks on your faces. “Well he passed out from exhaustion, which I usually see with that foolish Midoriya boy. This one usually keeps up with himself, something must’ve happened.” She cut herself off as she saw the look on your face that said it all. She beckons Kirishima to follow her out, as he still wasn’t getting what was happening.

You finally got a good look at him, and saw just how exhausted he looked. The bags under his eyes, his bruised body, and how pained he looked in his sleep. You hugged the non-bruised part of his arm, and finally let the tears you held let go. “I’m sorry Katsuki...I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Before you realized he woke up, he placed his free hand on your head, rubbing small and soothing circles on your head. “S’okay, let’s make this work.” You knew you didn’t have to say anything else as you both stayed like that until Recovery Girl came in to kick you both out.

After you start dating again:

Comes to your dorm everyday to get you up knowing you’d oversleep if he didn’t (also wants to see your sleeping face...not in a weird way)

Cooks you breakfast in bed on off days,

You guys cook something together when you have a movie night

Instead of yelling most times, he just makes sure he understands your side of everything before jumping to conclusions

Makes sure he isn’t too rough with you verbally (lol not sure physically)

Brings you to his parents house during some free time since you get along with his mom and dad well

Won’t admit it but adores the fact that his parents love you

Whispers ‘I love you’ when he’s made sure your ‘sleeping’ (you’re not, you just wanna hear him say it all shy like)

You guys go on training dates, where you both train together, then have a picnic where you just trained

Him being more open with PDA, like holding your hand, or laying his head on your shoulder, etc. just small stuff

He loves playing with your hair and twisting it around his fingers while cuddling or studying

You both cheer on your favorite hero during a fight on TV, or you pick a random channel on TV and you just listen to him rant how stupid something is while you lean onto his shoulder at 2am (somehow got him to stay up this late)

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“No...no...you can’t, you can’t be serious”

He sounded so broken. His fists clutched so hard you thought his bones would pop out

Anger was evident in his face, and he honestly scared you with the face he was making

“Y/N....are you joking?” You frown and step back a little, did he really think everything you said was a joke? “No Bakugo, I just think this isnt gonna work out in the end.” You heard him click his tongue, then just look at you in shock, then anger. He looked down, his bangs covering his expression. “So you’re just gonna end it like that? No working anything out, just break up? It was one fucking mistake Y/N.”

“Yeah one big mistake, you don’t suck faces with some other person on accident, Bakugo.” The venom in your voice slicing through the tension filled air. “Can you just fucking forgive me? I won’t do it again.”

“You said that last time, Katsuki, then you go and clown off again-“

Before you could get anything else out Bakugo already had his quirk going in one hand, and the other holding your shoulder down. You both looked surprised, even as he backed away. “No..nononono fuck Y/N baby I’m sorry-” you smacked the hand that reached out for you. You started packing everything, Bakugo’s eyes widened as he just stood in shock. Before he knew it you were leaving already.

“N...NO NO Y/N PLEASE, I’M SORRY-“ he grabbed you by the arm that reached for the door knob. You quickly shrugged him out of his grasp, and opened the door. “Goodbye Bakugo, I hope well for the next person with you.” And you slammed it in his face. He stood there, it’s like the emotions he felt before were completely wiped when you slammed the door on him. It was 8:03pm, he should start getting ready for bed anyway.

For a few weeks he was unresponsive, and only talked when he needed to

His movements were sluggish and he’d often stare at nothing

Bakugo didn’t even glare, or really do anything when Midoriya tried talking him

Or shittyhair, dunce face, raccoon eyes, or soy sauce face

They were all the same, and just molded into one voice every time someone tried talking to him

After a while he got over it, but he still regrets what he did

You helped him through so much yet he went off and did stupid shit

Even after highschool, he’d still keep up on you frequently through social media

Basically stalking you on there, guessing he never truly got over it once he felt tears subconsciously stream down his face as he saw you with someone else, happier.

He felt like he didn’t do anything wrong, and he was confused at the throb in his heart every time you looked away from him or ignored him.

So he did ask you, and all you did was look at him like he just hit you.

Why did you look so hurt?

Todoroki shrugged it off, thinking you’d come back like you did after every fight you guys had

But you didn’t, and that’s what took an actual toll on him

More emotional

A permanent frown on his pretty features most of the time

All he mostly eats is soba

He didn’t know how to handle this in all honesty

Sometimes he’d just stare at you, and even when you looked back he’d just stare...

Sometimes he’s so out of it he doesn’t realize he’s either froze the entire classroom or was a living breathing radiator, or both (rip Momo, Satou, and Tokoyami)

He’d ask Midoryia for help but it came out as a fumbled mess most of the time:

“Midoryia...how do you hurt....them, a lot...without...? Can you help?

Midoryia is just like:

(Sorry I had to add that in I was cackling sm from it)

“I think you should just talk to them Todoroki.”

That was harder to do then he expected, you mangaged to avoid him pretty well,

One day he was just fed up and as soon as the bell rang he took your hand and left the class

He takes you to an empty classroom, his left side nearly giving you frostbite

You were about to yell at him before you saw his broken expression

“What...what did I do for it to be like this?” You we’re now quiet as you saw the confused and hurt expression on his face. Him barely being able to control either of his quirks, he was shaking, yet still held a confused expression. It just clicked with you, Todoroki wasn’t used to the sudden emotions or feelings, and when one of the people he’d usually go to to talk about it wasn’t there, he started to crumble.

You hugged him tightly , not caring if his quirks messed up your uniform. “I’m sorry Y/N....I’m sorry I’m not enough, but-“ You cover his mouth as tears fell from your eyes and onto the ground or his uniform. “I- I-I’m so sorry Todo...it’s just you never gave me affection and I was being so selfish and petty about it, I just- I didn’t realize that you went through your own experience for it to turn out like this. It’s not your fault, and I love you the way you are Shoto.” Todoroki didn’t even notice the tears come down his face as you kissed him over and over again. A small ‘I’m sorry’ from you every time. His quirks calmed down and now you were holding each other in a random classroom. You’re heart nearly stopped as you looked up at him and saw a small, teary eyed smile.

After you start Dating again:

Todoroki was much more observant

He’d stay up late readings articles saying “How to understand emotions” or “Is there other good food then Cold Soba” wait-

Regularly gets you gifts, even though most of the time you make him return the stuff since he’s been getting so much with his dads card

Endeavor ended up yelling at you both in a 7/11 while you were stuffing your faces with a soba flavored chips

You both figured out a way to get Todoroki to express himself without words

He’d slightly activate his left side if he wanted any sort of attention, and his right side was if he was feeling stressed or upset

He subconsciously goes to your dorm now to check up on you to make sure you’ve had a glass of water, dinner or anything really (He just wanted a reason to go to your dorm)

You played with his hair once, and he’s never going back

When cuddling he’d lay his head in the crook of your neck, hoping to feel you playing with his hair

You push him to start taking therapy sessions to understand what emotions he’s feeling and how to express them

Takes you in your free time to an empty field just to hear you talk, and learn more about you

And he’d always wake up early and made sure to get a few snacks for you before you woke up and brought them to your dorm room (Last time he tried to cook he almost burned the kitchen down)

Overall Todoroki just loves giving you small head pats now, you don’t know where it came from but you didn’t complain

Poor bby stuttered so hard the first time he said ‘I love you’ you giggled

Ended up making him feel embarrassed and like he did something wrong, but you quickly kissed him/praised him

He can’t stop saying it now, one time you picked up his pencil, before you could hand it to him just a sudden “I love you Y/N” the entire class looked at you both in shock

“STOP SUCKING FACES OVER THERE!”

“SHUT UP BAKUGO”

“HAAAH?”

Todoroki is the happiest he’s been.

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“Over? What do you mean we’re over?”

You felt so horrible by the the pure confusion on his face

But the rude things he said to you, over powering your want to get back with him

Lately Todoroki has been more protective, and rude. Insulting everything you do, belittling you slightly. It just added up and you were tired of it

Todoroki tilted his head to the side, deep in thought.

“Y/N your being on the dumber side again, are you hanging out with them too much?” You were taken aback by how nonchalantly he insulted you and your friends. “Excuse me? Todoroki did I hear you right?” You stepped foward leaning your head toward him. “Of course you can, or did Bakugo’s yelling make you not hear so well?” The fact he said it with no emotion, or nothing to it was making you clench your fist. “The hell has gotten into you Todoroki?” You shove his shoulder a bit. He frowned at you heavily making you flinch. “Well if you didn’t go and ignore me most of this week maybe I wouldn’t be like this. I usually hold my tongue but you’ve been rude this entire week.”

You stood there speechless. “Well Ex-fucking-cuse me Shoto. Maybe if you didn’t insult me all the damn time I wouldn’t ignore you, or wait for an decent apology.”

You drag out the last words as you glared at him, Todoroki giving one back. “I’m only telling the truth so you don’t look dumb. I’m helping you out Y/N, I thought you’d understand.” You scoff in utter shock, you couldn’t help the sudden urge to slap some sense into him. Now he stood speechless, the force in that slap causing his hair to look messy, and a red mark on his cheek. Tears were in your eyes as you clenched your fist, biting your lip from cussing him out on the spot. “Your lucky I don’t beat your sorry ass, just...just the the fuck out Todoroki!” You pushed him toward the door. He looked at you with no emotion in his face as he saw you start to bawl your eyes out. “Just...just get the hell out Todoroki, it’s over, we’re over.” He felt a pang in his heart, but choose to ignore it and just left.

It only actually came to him during the night as he was about to walk to your dorm after a nightmare, when he realized the entire conversation

He tried knocking on your door but you didn’t answer, even though he could hear your music

He went back to his dorm, sat on his bed and just had a full mental breakdown

Realizing his main emotional support that helped him through mostly everything was gone

He felt he said stuff his father said to you already which made it even worse

He tried texting and calling you but you had him blocked on everything

He repeated the entire conversation in his head, just now coming to how disgusting he really did sound

Todoroki for that whole week was an emotional wreck

During hero training if he was thinking about you or what he did he doesn’t notice poor Satou trying to get out of his wall of Ice.

Is always with Midoryia at some given time,

He kind of clinged onto people in his circle that gave him attention of some sort

When he some time passed he eventually got over it

After Highschool you both kept in touch, but it pained him when he saw you engaged and happy with another person

But he was happy if you were happy.

Heyyy so this is probably the longest thing I’ve written since like my last Wattpad fanfics I used to do(yikes). But hope you enjoy, and don’t be afraid to request! I’m taking them now so go wild.

Sorry that they were all confusing it’s my first hcs+scenario thingy, but I have a few other things in the works so... 💃🕺

2K notes · View notes

ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

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eternallytoph · 3 years

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7 SECOND RULE

Summary: A regular day at the compound turns out really great.

Warnings: Fluff, A little tension, Steve in his white shirt

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 3k

“Steve! Stop it! You’re stronger than I am!” you giggle uncontrollably while Steve has you pinned down on the mat as a result of your last sparring session. “Oh really? You sure do like to talk a lot about how much you could kick my ass. Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is sweetheart?” He chuckles back, poking at your sides and tickling you. Steve loses his stance and you push him off of you, he flops over, laying beside you.

“I feel so out of shape whenever I train with you.” You chuckle breathlessly while pushing yourself off the ground. Steve pushes himself up and laughs. “You’re doing great, you’re putting the work in and that’s the most important part.” He smiles sweetly.

Steve was always a sweetheart. Half of the time it felt like there wasn’t a bad bone in his muscular body. He had the sweetest smiles and those perfect blue eyes to top it all off. He really was like a golden retriever but as a man.

“Mind if we use the mat? I would enjoy kicking Sam’s ass.” Wanda speaks up, her accent spiking through each one of her words. “Let’s not get too cocky now. You’re what? 5’5?” Sam chuckles back as Wanda glares at him.

“We’re done here anyway, go right ahead” Steve smiles before walking side by side with you, out of Sam and Wanda’s way. You both sit on the bench, drinking your water and catching your breath. “Who are you betting on?” you ask with a smirk. “Oh, so it’s a competition?” Steve replies in an intrigued tone. “I put $20 on Wanda.” you smile confidently. “You’re on,” Steve replies before sternly shaking your hand.

You both watch as Sam and Wanda position themselves. Wanda makes the first move but Sam quickly grabs her arm, twisting it behind her back. Wanda chuckles and loosens her posture like she had given up. Steve chuckles beside you and holds his hand out. You smirk and shake your head at him. He gives you a confused look before looking back at the two on the mat. Sam releases Wanda and chuckles. “I tol-“

Before Sam could even try to finish that sentence, Wanda kicks out his legs and pins him down on the mat. “Yes!” you cheer. She looks up at you with a smile. “That actually works? Men are so stupid sometimes.” She chuckles, her accent coating her words.

“Woah Woah, what was that?” Steve asks in pure confusion. “I would also like to know what the hell that was,” Sam replies, lying lifeless on the mat. “It’s just something I taught Wanda a little while ago, nothing crazy. It doesn’t work every time but it’s very effective when it does,” you reply before taking another drink of water.

“What did you call it again?” Wanda smiles. “3 Second Rule.” you smile back. Sam breathlessly chuckles while getting up off the mat. “So what? You just pretend to give up?” Sam asks. “That's what it looked like.” Steve chimes in.

“Want me to show you?” you ask Steve. He pauses in confusion before shrugging his shoulders and walking back up to the mat. You follow behind him, Wanda giving you a smile on the way. “Let’s do this,” Steve smiles.

“Okay, so let’s put ourselves in Wanda and Sam’s position, just for an example” you state. Steve lightly grabs your arm and holds it behind your back, pressing his chest against your back. You can feel his breath on your neck, tickling your skin.

“Like this?” he asks softly. “Yes.. yeah. Just like this” you stutter. “It has to feel real though, grip my wrist a little tighter. You have to act as if we’re really fighting” you instruct. Steve tightens his grip on your wrist and pulls you closer as you tense up and begin to try and free yourself. “Is that as hard as you can go? Come on Steve, imagine I was trying to kill you, or even someone you love. His grip tightens even more and you’re secure in his grasp.

You smirk at Wanda as she watches you and Steve from the bench. “You’re hurting me... I take it back, I can’t” you whine. Steve’s posture drops and he lets go of your wrist. You swiftly turn around, kicking his legs from under him and pressing your forearm against his neck once he hits the ground.

Sam and Wanda die of laughter on the bench as you smirk at Steve. He looks at you in pure confusion. You remove your forearm from his neck and he lets out a deep breath. “It’s proven that men hardly perceive a woman as a threat compared to a man. So when I become all innocent and act like I’ve given up, you gave in and let your guard down”

You help Steve off the mat as he looks at you in awe. “Once you let your guard down, it’s also proven that it would take you an additional seven seconds to again perceive me as a threat just because I’m a woman” you chuckle at his look of confusion.

“I didn’t believe it when she told me, but it really works” Wanda chimes in. Steve just breathlessly laughs and shakes his head. “It hit you like a truck too, didn’t it?” Sam asks with a chuckle. Steve just nods as he grabs his water bottle from Sam. “Women amaze me more and more every day,” Sam admits. You and Wanda chuckle before you decide it’s getting late.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna officially call it a night. I’ll be in my room if you guys need me” you smile before grabbing your stuff and heading out of the gym. The only thing you can think of is how amazing a shower is gonna feel after all of that, your muscles were already beginning to ache from all the work.

***

You loved living in the compound, it was spacious and everyone had their own little space. Each room was built like it was a personal apartment minus the kitchen. A comfy bed, decent closet, space for personal items, a bathroom with a good amount of counter space (which was always important). You enjoyed having your own space to decorate and call your own, it felt really warm and welcoming.

You quickly place your stuff down on your bed and head into the bathroom, starting the shower before peeling off your sweaty workout clothes. You pushed them in a pile on the floor before jumping in with a sigh. The cold water eased your aching muscles and felt refreshing.

You took some time to wash and condition your hair before scrubbing your body down and rinsing off. Once you turned the water off, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. When you exited your bathroom you immediately glanced at the clock on your wall. 11:18 pm

You dried yourself off, hanging the towel up before quickly picking out your clothes. You opted for your most comfortable pair of pyjamas before heading back into the bathroom to brush your hair. You combed through it, applying a few products so it didn’t go crazy when it dried. Before picking up your toothbrush you decided you wanted to eat something before going to bed. Late-night snacks were always better when there was no one around and the entire compound was quiet.

You quietly shut your door behind you before turning and walking down to the kitchen. Everyone was usually in bed around this time so it was the perfect opportunity. You smiled to yourself as you headed to the kitchen. Once you reached the kitchen, you were surprised to see a very tired-looking Steve leaning against the counter. He was holding a Stark Tablet in his hand, reading over what must be a recent mission report. His hair was messy, still a bit damp from the shower he must’ve had beforehand.

He wore a white t-shirt that was obviously too small for him, but then again nobody was complaining about the view. You cleared your throat and he looked up at you, smiling once your eyes met his. “Evening stranger,” he says softly. “Stranger? You don’t remember me kicking your ass not that long ago?” you reply, keeping your voice low in fear of waking anyone up. He just chuckles as he pushes himself up from leaning against the counter, turning off the device in his hand.

“What’re you still doing up?” he questions. “Well I was about to brush my teeth and go to bed, then decided I wanted a snack” you smile softly before walking up and opening the fridge. The fridge light is bright, filling the room completely. You pull out the washed bowl of grapes that you had put in there this morning, surprised that no one had eaten them.

“Your snack of choice is those grapes?” he chuckles slightly in disgust. “Woah there, what do you have against these grapes” you reply, pretending to be hurt at his tone. “I’ve just never really liked those ones. I hated them as a kid” he replies before reopening the fridge and pulling out a water bottle.

“You're telling me that you haven’t tried them since you were a kid? How do you know if your taste buds have changed or not?” you ask in disbelief. “That’s how bad they were! I hate just looking at them now” he chuckles. You quirk your eyebrows before giving him a smirk.

He looks at you in confusion before realizing what you’re thinking. “Nope. Not in a million years. Stay away from me” he protests. “Just one! If you don’t like it then you can hold it against me forever” you chuckle before handing him a single grape. He looks up and down, switching between your puppy dog eyes and the small grape in your hand.

“Fine. Just one” he groans. You drop it in his hand and he looks at it in disgust before putting it in his mouth and hesitantly chewing. His tense expression drops once he gets a taste of the grape. “I knew it” you smile at him. He is unable to hold back his smile before shaking his head in defeat.

You place the bowl of grapes back in the fridge and Steve leaves the kitchen with you. “Can I walk you to your room?” he asks softly. You nod with a smile. The walk is silent for the first few seconds before you decide to break that silence. “How was your day?” you internally cringe at your attempt at small talk but he smiles at the gesture.

“It was good. Early morning run, hung around until lunch, ate lunch, hung around again until you and I went for training” he replies in detail with a smile spread across his face. “And how was your day?” he continues.

“Good. I didn’t work out much, just kind of watched movies, read, worked on some files. The boring stuff” you smile. Steve was such a productive person, he woke up at 5 am every day for his run, he didn’t spend too much time on the couch or in his room. He liked to interact and move around. In that way, you were opposites.

You finally reached your bedroom and Steve shot you a sweet smile before turning around to head back. “Steve?” you ask, your voice projecting a little louder than you thought. He turns around and smiles “Yeah?” he asks, his tone a lot softer than yours. “Are you tired?” you ask.

He tilts his head and smiles at you before replying. “No, not really” he chimed. With that, you open your door wildly, motioning for him to come in. He hesitantly enters your room and you follow in behind him. You settle in while he stands there, looking around and admiring how you had filled and decorated the room.

“Have I never had you in here before?” you question. He shakes his head as he continues to look around. “I've been in here but it’s only been for seconds at a time” he admits. “Well, this is it” you beam while holding your arms out, motioning to all the things around you.

He chuckles as he turns and his eyes settle on you. You pat the spot beside you on the bed and he obeys, settling in the spot beside you. “You wanna watch a movie?” you ask cheerfully. He nods and you pick up the remote in excitement.

Steve hadn’t seen many movies outside the ones from his time. He had seen some of the classics but only because they were strongly recommended to him. “What do you wanna watch?” you ask while clicking through the choices. “Well, what ones are your favourite?” he asks in a genuine tone.

“I really like classic horror if I’m being honest. Have you seen Scream?” you ask with a big smile. “I haven’t seen that one, sounds interesting” he replies with an equally big smile. You search for the movie and hand Steve the remote. He presses play and you quickly run up out of the bed to turn off the lights, bolting back into bed once they’re off. When you jump back into bed you crash into Steve’s side.

His laugh is low and deep. “Why were you in such a hurry?” He laughs. “I didn’t wanna miss anything” you admit before giving your full attention to the movie. “I thought you said you’ve seen it before” he questions. “I have, I just like it a lot” you admit once again. The darkness of the room hides a lot, including the big smile that comes across Steve’s face as he watches you. Your eyes are filled with enjoyment and you look so happy, he liked that look on you.

As you watched the movie, Steve inched closer and closer hoping you wouldn’t notice and question him on it. When a jump scare came up, he would move slightly closer. Another jump scare came and Steve moved closer, you felt his arm brush against yours and you look over at him only to see he was already looking at you in complete worry. Your expression softened and it eased his worries.

You gently lifted his arm, placing it around your shoulder as you cuddled into his side. Steve’s heart began to beat fast and his skin felt hot. In the light, anyone would be able to see his face all beat red, paired with an uncontrollable smile. Your skin against his felt cool, it eased him and made him feel much better the longer you laid there.

Once the movie came to an end he looked down at you only to see you looking back up at him in anticipation. He furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled nervously. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asked. “I wanna know if you liked it or not,” you ask genuinely. His heart basically melts then and there as he sees the excitement on your face. “I liked it a lot. It was really good” he admits, enjoying watching the smile grow on your face.

***

Now that the movie was over, Steve wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He wasn’t sure if the sudden cuddling meant that you wanted him to stay or if it was just in the moment. He shuffled a little underneath you and you looked back up at him, a tired look plastered on your face.

“Do you want to stay here tonight? Like this?” you ask softly, a yawn creeping up behind your question. “I would like that” he replies, pulling you closer into him. You make yourself comfortable and place your hand on his chest lightly. You feel Steve’s breath hitch and you look up to check if he’s okay.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to give you some space?” you ask worriedly. He shakes his head frantically and quickly. “I’m just a little nervous I guess” he admits, trying to avoid eye contact. You smile and a soft blush warms your face. The Steve Rogers was nervous around you.

You gently push yourself up to his level before placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. He sighs in relief at the contact. He searches your eyes before slightly parting his lips to speak. He leans in a little closer before softly whispering to you. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks, anything quieter and you might not have heard him.

You nod and he closes the gap, interlocking his lips with yours. The kiss is sweet and genuine, his touch is soft and delicate. It was easy to tell that right now, Steve only had the purest intentions. Once you part, Steve lets out another sigh of relief. “Your lips taste so sweet” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You smirk and let out a small chuckle. “Must’ve been those grapes” you admit. He laughs along with you before pulling you back into his side, holding you as close as he possibly can. His body feels so nice against yours, it’s almost like his physique is all an illusion, Steve Rogers may be 200 lbs of basically all muscle but to you, he’s the softest, sweetest and most comfortable person in the entire world.

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sokkascroptop · 3 years

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traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 26

part 1 | part 25

a/n: no matter how long you have been here, just know i'm extremely grateful for anyone who's read this fic. now here's the latest chapter.

Sometimes it felt like the days dragged on. Each and every hour was laid out just like the day before–the week before. It made time seem endless, even though Y/N knew it definitely was not. Sozin’s Comet was getting closer and closer each day. Y/N didn’t know if it was the anticipation for that long fated day or if it was some buried fire bender gene in her body, warning her of something to come. She could feel it deep within her bones. She woke up earlier and earlier each day, no matter how late her night ended up. And each day the sun greeted her with warm yellow light that made the air a little easier to breathe.

As they moved further south and into Fire Nation territory, Zuko made mention of Ember Island as a place to hide out. The island–or chain of islands, really–were close enough to Caldera City that it would be a good place for them to lay low and wait, as well as uninhabited by enough people that they could lay low.

Y/N thought it was a little risky to be living in the Fire Lord’s Ember Island house, but Zuko was probably right, this was going to be the last place anyone would look for them. Maybe Y/N was just unsettled about being back, so close to Caldera City, or maybe it was being back on Ember Island for the first time since she was 9.

Somewhere between the temple and the beach house, Y/N tired of training. It just added to the monotony, and so she just…stopped. Instead, she spent her days on the beach, sometimes alone–often with the others though–playing in the tide pools and skim-boarding on the sand. And sometimes, if she felt like she didn’t have enough time on her own to recharge, she’d leave in the night, either through her window or the front door to take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Only to come back and wake up a few hours later, ready for sunrise.

Today was no different, though the sun was already peeking over the horizon and into her room when her eyes peeled open.

The wooden floors creaked under Y/N’s feet as she crept out of her room silently.

Each board was smooth under her bare toes, not well-worn by many little feet running across them year after year but made that way before they were even built into the house, for no doubt a hefty fee. The beach house was… cold, to say the least. It just felt like each pore of the house seeped something uninviting, reminding them that they shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t just Y/N who felt it, they all spent as little time as possible in the house.

She padded into the kitchen and struck their flint to start a fire under the stove–mostly unneeded since Zuko had joined their group–but wholly necessary when he wasn’t around to be their fire-starter. Y/N didn’t mind doing it this way, it felt nice being able to do something with her own hands for once instead of relying on the others to make clean water or heat up the food. She boiled just enough water for one cup of tea before heading out to the courtyard where she knew at least two of her friends would be awake.

Y/N didn’t like feeling optimistic. It was a terrifying feeling. There was so much riding on their success; she didn’t want to spend so much energy on hoping only to have it all dashed away if things didn’t go their way. It would be too heartbreaking. But watching Aang, she could. They weren’t even sparring and she could see the power behind every blast of fire. And she had hope for their future. She had to; she wasn’t going to lose her friends.

“You’re doing that one wrong,” Y/N said from the shadows on the porch. She held her warm cup to her chest, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was keeping the courtyard chilly until the sun could rise high enough to heat the island.

Aang didn’t seem too surprised to hear her voice. “Doing what wrong?” He asked, confused.

Zuko frowned up at Y/N from his seat on the steps but nodded to Aang. “She’s right, you have to dip further down so when you come up the fire creates more of an arc.”

Aang pushed through a few more poses before Zuko stood up and joined him. Y/N stole his seat and pulled her legs up to cross them. She watched as they moved in tandem, working though the most basic of firebending forms all the way up to a few advanced ones. Memories flooded Y/N’s head so fast it made her dizzy. She remembered sitting just like she was now, watching her two brothers work through their forms when she was younger. On chilly mornings, much like today, she would wrap herself in a blanket nest and sip on tea that was much too sweet as they worked well into mid morning. In a sudden rush of affection she realized she was doing much of the same thing, just years and years later.

Aang had learned fast. That was good. She set down her empty cup as the two boys headed back to her, both sweaty from their training. “Good job, Aang! You’re doing great!”

Aang beamed with pride. “Thanks, Y/N!

“Don’t be so encouraging, he’s still got a lot to learn,” Zuko grumbled, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

Y/N pouted. “He needs encouragement. That’s how he learns.” Y/N learned that from watching the differences between Katara teaching styles and Toph’s teaching styles.

“Speaking of firebending,” Aang kicked his feet against the edge of the steps and looked around like he was avoiding something. “How did you know about the firebending forms?”

Zuko leaned back on his hands. “I’d like to know that too.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I watched my brothers for years, religiously learning all the forms and practicing them on my own. I wanted to be just like them. I guess I still remember them.”

Aang frowned. “It’s not like you couldn’t bend on purpose.”

Y/N was surprised to see Aang look so sad. “I know.” She shrugged and looked away feeling her cheeks redden with both boys staring at her. “I just wanted to be normal so people would stop paying attention to me for the wrong reasons.” She mumbled.

“It made you a better sword fighter,” Zuko said suddenly.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The discipline and movements. You do the same when you’re fighting.”

“I’ve never noticed, but you’re right, Zuko!” Aang exclaimed.

The thought made Y/N smile. “That was nice of you.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but let the smallest hint of a smile grace his lips.

She looked back to Aang, who still looked a bit hesitant. “Don’t worry about me. How about we go swimming? Before the others wake up!”

Aang perked up immediately. “That sounds great! Let’s go, Zuko!”

Y/N and Aang stood, both looking down at Zuko, who just stared at the ground between his feet. She could already hear him saying no, telling them that he needed to train more or meditate and didn’t have time to run off and play games.

Y/N opened her mouth to tell Aang that the two of them could still go but Zuko spoke up before her. “Yeah, okay.”

Sometimes even on those long, dragging days, it was the little things that made everything better; like playing in the surf with two of your friends.

---

That evening though, Y/N was back where she had started the day, and had decided that everyone in her group of friends, save for maybe Zuko, talked way too much. She craved those moments alone where she just had her thoughts to occupy her. Especially when she had a lot on her mind.

Y/N didn’t want to admit she felt stuck inside with Aang and Katara while everyone else was outside enjoying the evening, but she also felt guilty in turning down their request to help make dinner to just wander around on the beach until sunset. She didn’t help out much with making meals, and she felt obligated to help when she could.

So she was there, sitting on the dinner table, lotus style with a knife and a cutting board and a basket of carrots in need of chopping at her side.

“What else can I do, Katara?” Aang dumped some of the vegetables he was cutting into the stew Katara was currently stirring over the stove.

“Hmm, can you go out and get some more water to make the rice?” Aang grinned and nodded, before running out of the house towards the side of the house where there was a small barrel of collected water.

Y/N smiled to herself at the interaction and continued cutting carrots for Katara, trying not to let her mind wander, but it was hard with the monotonous work and the bad spot she was sitting in.

Just in front of her was the window where she had watched Zuko and Aang train while she made tea that morning, now it showed Zuko and Sokka doing their own training.

Y/N was struggling with more than just feeling like she didn’t belong on the Island. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Sokka, or if she was even going to say anything about her feelings at all. Without the constant traveling and the safety of a hideout, she was able to just stop and let those feelings and thoughts she had been holding back with a dam of fear wash over her.

It was all really confusing for Y/N. And hard to admit.

She didn’t want to face the awkward conversation of asking whether he could always be there for her. She didn’t want to beg him to never leave because she was so insecure. She was so afraid of losing everything and everyone that she was going to do just that because she was afraid of opening up.

What would happen if she never told Sokka she loved him back? Did she even love him back? What did love feel like?

Love with Azula felt like fire, sometimes it burned painfully, but in the good times it filled her with a warmth like never before. Zuko’s friendship felt the same, but it was less like sitting too close to the fire and more like sitting just in the right place where it didn’t dry out your eyes but didn’t make goosebumps grow on your arms. Sokka always felt like a cool breeze, one where you lift your face up to the sky and smile because it always feels like relief. But that’s not what Y/N is used to. How does she know if it’s love if it doesn’t hurt a little bit? How does she know that it's real if she doesn’t have to give all of herself until she is worn to nothing to make it work?

It wasn’t that she was afraid to care for him, she had made it clear that she did. It was just easier on her heart to keep him at a distance for now until she figured they were inevitably part ways. That’s how Y/N saw this all ending. Separated across oceans, back to where they came from, whatever the outcome of the war. Y/N wanted to dream of the possibilities and opportunities where they could be together in the long run, but those were just that, dreams for another lifetime. People from the Water Tribe didn’t marry people from the Fire Nation.

Everything that she learned over the last few months was that nothing was ever set in stone, so why should she and Sokka be.

Y/N stared out the window, pondering when it would all fall apart and sliced downwards on a carrot, but met nothing but the cutting board. She looked down where the knife was closer to her finger than to the carrots. She let out a little inward gasp.

“What?” Katara turned around and asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Nothing.” She motioned to the cutting board. “Do you want these smaller?”

Katara eyed Y/N and then looked to the cutting board. “They’re fine. But pay more attention, I don’t know how to reattach fingers yet.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden cutting board and her fingers until the others came bustling into the kitchen, all talking at once.

Y/N for the most part ignored everyone, until Sokka reached over and snatched one of the slices of carrots.

Y/N nudged his arm. “Can you wait?! I thought you didn’t like vegetables!”

“Aang got me to like carrots!” Sokka retorted, before quickly reaching around Y/N to grab another and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would you be sitting on the table that we have to eat off of?” Suki wrinkled her nose.

“Uh! Katara said I could!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

Katara whipped around, hands on her hips. “I never said you could, I just didn’t say you couldn’t.” Katara turned back to stirring the stew before muttering under her breath, “Not like telling you no would have made a difference anyways.”

“Hey!” Y/N picked up a carrot and launched it at the back of Katara’s head.

Aang walked back inside carrying a bucket of water, to a kitchen full of chaos. Vegetables were being thrown across the room at one another, as laughter rang out. Sokka, Zuko and Y/N were sprawled on one side of the kitchen behind and under the table; with Suki, Katara and Toph only edging from behind the safety of the kitchen doorway to throw something.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N could hear the exasperation of a 112 year old monk in Aang’s usually cheerful voice.“Uh, guys, what are we supposed to eat for dinner now?”

---

Y/N was dozing against the headboard of her bed that night, when she heard the knock at her door. At first she thought she imagined it, that is until she heard a voice on the other side of the doorway. “Y/N, are you awake?”

Y/N slid out of bed and cracked open the door. She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, a familiar feeling in her chest.

“Are you afraid that there are ghosts here too?”

Sokka grinned and nodded. “In this house? Absolutely. But I’m not here for that.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Come outside with me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Why?”

“Please, just come on. No questions.”

Y/N sighed and reached for an old silk robe she found in one of the closets, but her smile never left her face.

To be fair to Sokka, there wasn’t much to surprise Y/N with on an island she grew up on. But that night, the sky momentarily took her breath away.

Sometimes the simplest things were the most beautiful.

“I thought we could come out here; look at the stars a bit. I used to like doing that at home. Though it’s different. The constellations aren’t the same where I’m from.”

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you some.”

Together they laid side by side on the roof, and Y/N pointed out her favorites. The dragon, the jack-rabbit...

After Y/N had told Sokka the story of the Red Queen, some ancient fable of a powerful Fire Lady that was always one of Y/N’s favorites, they both grew quiet, Y/N asked the question that had been brewing on her mind. She worried that whatever she said would mess up the peaceful night they had been having. It felt like she was intruding on a secret that she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Hey, Sokka,” Y/N asked.

“Hmmm,” She looked over and Sokka looked about half asleep already. Maybe this would be good timing.

“Who’s Yue?”

Sokka’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. “What?”

Y/N could feel her face flush. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yue.” The word sounded flat and foreign on her tongue. Maybe that wasn’t how you actually pronounced it? Some of the Water Tribe names and words were hard for Y/N’s mouth to form. If she could, she flushed deeper. “I heard you talking about them when I was hurt. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember much, but I remember the name.”

Sokka suddenly looked very sad. Which was… odd because Y/N just thought that Yue was a Water Tribe spirit much like the Fire Nation had Agni.

“She’s the moon spirit,” Sokka whispered, his eyes cast down on his wringing hands.

Y/N eyes were wide. Why was he acting like this? “Oh. I figured she was a spirit or something. It sounded like you were praying to her, or something.”

“Yeah,” Sokka choked out. “Something like that.”

That’s when Y/N noticed there were drips of water on Sokka’s hands. Tears.

“Sokka?” Y/N said softly. She reached forward and–yup those were tears, dripping on their hands.

“She was a girl I met at the Northern Water Tribe when we first started traveling.”

“I thought she was…”

“She is.” For the first time, Sokka looked up. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. “But she was still a girl when I met her.”

Sokka launched into a story that sounded more fantasy than real, but the look on his face, the sadness in his features, Y/N knew he was telling the truth.

“She was blessed by the moon spirit when she was born, it was the only reason she was alive. But when we were in the Northern Water Tribe—Zhao, a Fire Nation commander killed the moon spirit and all the water benders lost their bending, forever.” Sokka shivered. “It was scary, the moon was gone in the sky and we were helpless to fight the Fire Nation. It would have changed the tide of the war.

But she was selfless. She knew that she was the only hope for her tribe—for the world—and she sacrificed herself to save all of us. So now she’s the moon spirit…I guess. I don’t know, she’ll always be Yue to me.” Sokka’s voice trailed off with a sniffle. Y/N didn’t know how to respond.

Sokka sent a longing glance upward. The moon was just past full, waning in the far distance but still bright and round in the sky. “I think–I think she heard me that night. And she knew how much you meant to me, even then. And she saved you because…” Now it was Sokka’s turn to flush. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

Those words made Y/N’s chest burn. Her arms and legs tingled in relief as if all the tension in her body began to melt away. Y/N reached out, wiping a stray tear off of Sokka’s cheek. “Me either,” she replied instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“’m not. Sad, really. I miss her, but it’s easier to always know where she is. She didn’t have a lot of choice in her life, but this was something she had control over. If she hadn’t become the moon spirit, the war would have ended right there. So her sacrifice meant that, you know, Zuko is our friend now and Aang has a chance at beating the Firelord and you have a place in all our lives. She made all of this possible.”

“Sounds like we have a lot more to be thankful to her for than just saving little old me then, huh?”

“You would have liked her.”

Y/N nodded and peered at the moon above them. “I do like her.”

No one else needed to know that after the two of them went inside and off to bed, that Y/N hung halfway out her window to get one last look at the moon. Y/N swore as her eyes closed and sleep overtook her that the moon shone a little brighter. Maybe that’s how the moon said thank you. Y/N’d never tell anyone that she whispered a small thank you too, to the girl who lived among the stars.

a/n: don't be shy, come talk to me in my askbox and tell me if you liked it

taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @creation-magician @lunariasilver @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @solarsuki @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @izzieserra @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103 @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella @sugamonster22 @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @justamessandahalf @perfectlyfadingmusic @atlafanforlife @iris-suoh @chilifrylizard2

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silkenstarlight · 3 years

Text

body is a temple

Summary: Bucky and reader are training when she finds him staring at her ass. She tries to rile him up, but quickly learns that he doesn’t tolerate teasing.

Pairing: Personal trainer!Bucky x reader

Warning/s (18+ only, minors dni): enemies to lovers, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms

Word count: 2.8k

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Author’s note: i wrote this while wine-drunk, so if it’s extra horny, you know why

“Fuck!”

You tumbled onto the mat, back slamming against cool polyethylene. The breath whooshed from your body in a dramatic, crushing exhale, your lungs desperately trying to pull in air but failing beyond shallow, raspy puffs. Bucky looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the gym feathering behind his head in a blinding halo, smirking as he drank in the image of you sprawled on the mat below him, completely at his mercy. He let you lie there for one, two, three seconds, before holding out his hand for you to grab onto. It was a kind gesture, something that completely contrasted with his previous rough treatment. You squinted and firmly grasped his hand, feeling your back leave the mat as he propped you upright again.

“Is that the best that you can do, (Y/N)?” He stepped back, walking to the edge of the mat and retrieving your water bottle for you.

You huffed, raspy breathing slowly returning to normal. “Is this really necessary?”

He handed you your water bottle, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary.”

“I was told that you would be my personal trainer. Nowhere in the program description did it say that you were going to beat my ass all day,” you shook your head, slightly incredulous, and took a few grateful gulps from the water bottle. You felt more comfortable talking back to him because you were the last ones left in the gym today, with no one but him to overhear your complaining. You had expected some light cardio, maybe some weight training, when you had signed up for individual sessions with a personal trainer at your new gym. You didn’t think you would be paired right away with Bucky, who seemed to exclusively work with experienced heavy lifters, and you definitely didn’t think he would take it upon himself to teach you self-defense, a skill which he was surprisingly extremely well-versed in. Every day for the past week, you had ended up in a similar supine position on the mat, beaten and scrambling for air, accumulating a mottled collection of nasty bruises and scrapes on your knees and elbows. The most frustrating part was that he remained unscathed through it all. Every time, it was you on your ass, and him helping you up. It made you want to scream.

Well, that actually wasn’t the only thing about this whole situation that made you want to scream. He was incredibly good-looking, exactly your type, all brooding looks and dark eyes. You actually had to pick your jaw up off of the floor when he walked in to your first session last week. But, the worst part was, he was a cocky bastard. He had to know the effect he had on you, and yet, he chose to do nothing about it.

“Well, you’ll just have to do better if you want me to stop crushin’ you every time.” He dabbed at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and even though he frustrated you to no end, it took everything you had in you not to let your eyes drift down to look at his toned stomach.

“Now I think you’re just trying to make me mad.” You huffed, walking to the edge of the mat and returning your water bottle to its perch, preparing for another round.

“Well, if I’m pissing you off, why don’t you use that anger? Beat me. Just once,” he smirked, as if firmly believing that you couldn’t, that you didn’t have it in you. But, you were just stubborn enough to take the challenge.

“Fine.” You cocked your head and gritted your teeth, digging your heels into the mat and crouching in a ready position.

“3… 2… 1… start.” The ghost of a smirk still graced his face, but he was concentrating on your movements now, eyes darting as you approached.

Jab, cross, jab. Knee, high kick, and--

“Damn you, Barnes.”

One quick sweep, and he had you pinned. You wanted to scream, to thrash in frustration, but his body pressing against your back limited any movement on your part. Wonder if he likes having me pinned like this. You tried not to let that thought develop further, lest the heat you had worked up from sparring travelled up your neck for him to see, or worse, somewhere farther south--

“Why are you still panting, (Y/N)?” You could feel a puff of hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

Fuck. “My, uh… my asthma must be acting up again.”

“Didn’t think you had asthma.” He flipped off of you, arching a brow as you slowly stood.

“Forgot to tell you, then,” you fibbed, trying at all costs to avoid spilling the truth, that your panting was the effect of an illicit fantasy that you had thought about in bed, alone, on more than one occasion.

“Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced. You both got into a ready position again.

“3… 2… 1… start.”

This time, you took more of a defensive strategy, evaluating him before striking. Maybe, if you weren’t so focused on completing the flourishing movements, on hitting with perfect precision and strength, you could anticipate his attack instead. You circled around each other like sharks, his eyes glinting almost hungrily, but doing nothing to bely his next move. It was like trying to size up a brick wall.

Suddenly, he darted forward with a speed that no man his size should have, and he swept your legs from under you, flipping you with ease. You fell ungracefully in a prone position, cheek smacking the mat, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. You groaned, aching muscles begging for you to stop and rest instead of getting up and accepting his challenge. You pressed your forehead into the mat, weighing whether it was worth the hassle of asking him to cut your session short today, when you noticed that he was completely silent.

You furrowed your brows, eyes flying open. Every time he had defeated you in previous rounds, he had uttered some sarcastic, infuriating quip, trying to rub in his victory even more. But he hadn’t said anything yet.

You pushed your chest up off the mat, craning your neck to look back at him. He was obviously looking at your body, eyes transfixed on your lower half, but when he sensed your sudden movement, he broke out of his trance. He quickly got up from his kneeling position, clearing his throat and walking to the water jug on the far wall. A smile slowly grew on your face as you realized that he had been staring at your ass.

You stood up, slowly walking toward him, assessing him with a sly expression on your face. “Were-- were you doing what I think you were doing just then?”

His back was to you as he filled a little paper cup with water. “If you mean pummelling your sorry ass into the mat yet again, then yes.” His voice still carried its usual snarky tone, but it shook slightly, as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Not exactly what I meant.” You stepped closer until a foot separated you, and he turned around to face you.

“Then what do you mean, doll?” He smiled smugly, but you noticed the pink blush that was creeping its way up his neck.

You hummed a laugh. “What I mean, Barnes,” you cocked your head, relishing how your sudden onset confidence wiped the smirk from his face, “is that you were enjoying the view back there. Isn’t that right?”

Now it was his turn to huff a laugh. “Well, what can I say? You’ve got a nice ass. Gotta get something out of these sparring sessions.”

You scoffed. “Fucking pervert.”

“Call me that again.” His tone was more serious, suddenly bereft of the saccharine sarcasm you were so used to.

You paused, weighing his tone against the risqué direction the conversation was heading, and you smirked, deciding to provoke him further. “You’re a fucking pervert. Beatin’ girls up, just so you have a chance to get a good, long look at their bodies. What the fuck is up with that? Can’t get some like a normal person, can you?”

He let that sink in, head dipped, eyebrows raised. But then, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a wicked smile crept onto his face. He looked at you with hooded eyes, and your stomach flipped, unsure if you were extremely turned on by your sudden proximity to him, or if you were preparing to balk.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” His voice was low, rasping with something you’ve never heard from him. Your mind was telling you to back up, to leave this encounter before it got messy, but your feet stayed rooted in position as he bridged the gap between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around before pinning you roughly against the wall.

“You know,” he said, breath hot against your ear, “you really shouldn’t be calling me a perv, when I know exactly what goes on in that head of yours during our training.”

“Wh- what do you mean?” You decided to play dumb, hoping that he wasn’t astute enough to deduce your secret, licentious desires.

“Oh, you know. Whenever I pin you, you’re always blushing.” He laughed mockingly. “It’s cute. It’s like you secretly want to be dominated.”

You huffed a breath as his hands traveled down your waist, before settling gently on your hips. His lips dragged across the shell of your ear and down your neck, pressing against your pulse point. You arched your back, grinding against the hard bulge that was forming in his shorts.

“Is that right, (Y/N)? You want me to pin you down and fuck you dumb?” He mumbled against your neck.

A wanton moan tumbled from your lips in response, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, p-please.” You hated how breathy your voice was, but you were too overtaken by desire to care whether he was just doing this to get a reaction from you.

“Please what?” You could feel his mouth curl into a smile as he reattached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.

“Please, please, please, fuck me, Bucky.” Another moan slipped from your mouth.

“That’s better, baby.” His fingers relaxed against your hips, tracing upwards to the hem of your leggings. He tugged them down with your underwear so that they settled just below your ass, and he pulled back slightly to look at your bare backside.

“Goddamn,” he said, voice gravelly and low. He squeezed one cheek with his hand, kneading it slightly before letting it go and slapping it. “Been dreaming of this ass. It’s just as good as I imagined.”

You gasped, giggling. “So, I was right.”

“Right about what?” He asked, pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock before pressing it against your backside, hot length already dripping with precum.

“You’re a fucking perv, Bucky Barnes.” You smiled coquettishly.

He stilled behind you, and you could feel his glare burning a hole through the back of your neck. You kept smiling anyways-- this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.

He guided the tip of his member down to your slit, dragging it from your perineum to your clit and back again to gather your wetness, before completely sheathing himself inside of you in one motion. You moaned loudly in response to the harsh intrusion, body struggling to accommodate his size.

“Thought you learned not to call me that,” he said, voice level, unbothered by the fact that you were throbbing around him.

“Guess I n-never learn.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he began to move, slowly thrusting to allow your body a chance to adapt to the thrilling ache of being so completely full. It was a harsh sensation, but it felt good, each stroke dragging pleasantly against your tight walls.

“Oh, you’ll learn.” His left hand travelled up your body, drawing under your shirt and flipping the band of your sports bra up. Your breasts bounced free, full and heavy. “Let’s see those pretty little tits, huh?”

He pinched one nipple, rolling its rosy, peaked bud between his cool metal fingers and making you squeal in delight. You ground back against him, encouraging him to move faster inside of you.

“You like that?” He switched to the other nipple, kneading your breast gently in his hand, and you arched into the motion. “That feel good?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to swallow your moans, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart so quickly and completely at his hands. “N-no.”

“You know,” he said, driving into you harder and harder with each thrust, but remaining frustratingly unperturbed and casual, “you don’t have to lie to me. I feel how drenched you are. You can admit how good it feels, baby.” His feigned affectionate tone, paired with the way that the tip of his cock was starting to brush against your g-spot, made you cry out. His permission to let go just made you want to disobey him even more, but the pleasure was slowly overtaking your body, overriding your sense of shame. You rocked on your heels, trying to take back some semblance of control, but when his left hand dragged from your breast to your neck, squeezing slightly, you were a goner. You shattered around him, your muscles fluttering around him and coaxing a gruff moan from his throat. But, he kept his focus, fucking you through your orgasm and watching your face as he did, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips dropped open in a soft “o.” He let go of your throat and you gasped.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, he refused to slow down, his unrelenting pace repeatedly hitting your deepest point. You could feel him grinning stupidly at you, proud that he had already coaxed an orgasm out of you despite not cumming yet himself.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, your body limp against his. Though your first orgasm had abated, you quickly felt tension building again inside of you.

“Not so cocky now, are you, (Y/N)?” He said between heavy breaths. You knew he was close, just by the sound, but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave this room without teasing another orgasm from your body. “So docile once I put my dick in you.” He panted, laughing at the way you mewled and gasped around him.

His hand drifted down to where your bodies met, finding your clit in the slippery mess of your combined arousal. He pressed his fingers against it in erratic little circles, your body keening for him, completely at his mercy.

“Look at that, makin’ you gush around me again,” he said, almost to himself, reveling in your neediness. “Looks like I win at this, too.” And, with that, you were done for.

Your muscles squeezed around him in a sweet, warm vice, and he groaned at the sensation of you cumming around him a second time. You mewled pathetically, body spent with unabashed pleasure. He followed closely behind you, losing himself inside of you and spilling his arousal in hot, vulgar stripes. His head was thrown back, claiming your body as his in sweet, silent throes. Once his hips finally stilled, his body slumped against yours, completely and utterly spent. You stayed like that for a moment, leaning up against the wall, the battle between you clearly over. And then, he grasped your hips, his cock slipping out of you with a vulgar sucking sound.

You bent down, pulling up your pants, when you heard him clear his throat. You looked back, reaching underneath your shirt to pull your sports bra back down over your tits, when he chuckled. You arched a brow, but he just shook his head slightly. “That was… much more fun than beating you up.”

You frowned slightly, but when you saw his goofy smile and suddenly relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Does that mean that we get to do that, instead of my training?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said sternly, crossing his arms but smiling slyly nonetheless. “But, we can do it outside of training. As long as I get to take you to dinner first,” he added quickly, his voice almost shy as he averted your gaze.

You smiled, laughing, and he looked up, expression nervous. Now, you shook your head. “Considering how good you just fucked me, I should be the one buying you dinner.”

He smirked, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.”

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