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miracleonice87 · 4 years

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1,000 Nights

a/n: in honor of Sid’s 1,000th career game. congratulations, SPC. you’ve come a long way, baby. story set in a non-covid-riddled universe.

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: 3.5k+

“I’m sorry I won’t be there tonight,” you sighed into the phone with a frown, tossing a stack of media briefings on your desk. “I just… I feel awful.“

“Baby, please, don’t apologize,” Sidney said softly, but so sincerely, on the other end. “Trust me, I get it. I mean, look, I wasn’t there for the thousandth press release you wrote, eh?”

You chuckled lightly, appreciative of your boyfriend’s efforts to make you feel better about missing the one thousandth game of his NHL career — a milestone that would come only once.

“It’s not quite the same,” you mumbled. “I just hate to miss it. But Kelsey promised me she’d FaceTime me the whole time.”

You heard the smile in Sid’s voice at the mention of his teammate’s wife, one of your closest friends, as he replied, “That’s nice. Listen, I don’t want you feeling bad about this, okay? We’ll celebrate when you come down next weekend.”

You drummed your fingers on your desk, then spotted your boss, Brendan Shanahan, quietly knocking before wincing, realizing he had interrupted your phone call. You shook your head, signaling it was no big deal, and waved him in.

“You got yourself a deal, Crosby,” you said as Brendan sat down in the chair across from you, a grin on his face.

“Alright, baby,” Sidney spoke. “I’ll let you get back to it. I love you, sweetheart.”

A weak smile crossed your face at his words, but you were certain you felt your heart splitting within your chest, the sting of missing him more painful today than most days.

“I love you, too,” you replied softly. “Call me after the game. And, hey, Sid?”

“Yeah?” Sid prompted.

You paused, knowing tears would likely be streaming down your cheeks if not for your friend and colleague seated on the other side of your desk.

“Congratulations,” you said solemnly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your chest swelled at Sidney’s appreciative hum in response.

“Thank you, my love,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight. Bye.”

You said your own goodbye and dropped your phone to the oak desk, tipping your head back, emotionally exhausted.

Brendan gave you a sad smile. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

You heaved a deep breath, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk while rubbing at your temples.

“I guess so,” you began unconvincingly. “Just basically feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world today.”

Brendan offered an understanding nod, pausing before sitting straighter in his chair, sniffing casually. You’d known him for years now, since you started as an entry-level social media team member with the Leafs following your graduation from Pitt, before working your way to communications director three summers ago. The two of you had formed a near-instant bond, and now, you could read him like the back of your hand.

Which is how you knew he was up to something.

You folded your arms in front of you and narrowed your eyes at him.

“What?” was your only question.

Brendan couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips as he cleared his throat and reached into his inside suit jacket pocket for a stack of papers, folded together in thirds. He placed the parcel in front of you and nodded toward it, signaling you to open it.

Your eyes never leaving his, you reached for the papers and pulled them toward you. Your gaze eventually dropped to the stack and swiftly fell to the Air Canada logo printed in the upper corner. The breath left your lungs in a flash.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, looking back toward Brendan, who was now smiling widely.

“I might’ve,” he admitted.

You attempted to restrain your emotions, but your eyes burned with tears as you looked more carefully at the papers, scanning them furiously for more information.

Toronto (YYZ) to Pittsburgh (PIT) - First Class

Saturday, February 20, 2021 - Departs 1:38 p.m. EST

You shook your head repeatedly, blinking back the wetness that now blurred your vision.

“Brendan, I can’t-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warned, pointing sternly at you. “Consider this an executive order. I already told the Pens staff you’d be there, and they’re emailing you over a pass. Family comes first here — you know that. That man is your family. You need to be with him tonight to celebrate.”

Tears fell freely down your cheeks now, and you quickly stood from your chair to round the desk and wrap your arms around Brendan’s neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered simply.

Brendan patted your back affectionately before you stepped back, standing up straight as you dabbed at the fallen tears on your cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” Brendan replied as he stood. “We’ll handle things here tonight, and we’ll see you back here for tomorrow night’s game, eh?”

You nodded furiously, a stupidly big smile on your face as you returned to your desk.

“Absolutely,” you confirmed. “And don’t worry — I’ll finish what I have going now and I’ll brief the interns before I go.”

Brendan nodded once and sent a wink your way as he neared the doorway.

“Please give Sidney my best, and congratulate him on behalf of us all,” Brendan requested. “He’s one hell of a player and one hell of a man. I’m glad I have the opportunity to know him better because of you.”

Overcome by emotion once again, you opened your mouth to respond, but decided against trusting your voice. You closed your mouth and nodded at Brendan one last time before he patted the doorpost and left you to finish your tasks at hand.

_____

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered upon realizing that traffic had stopped completely in the two blocks leading up Center Avenue to the arena.

You’d come through two airports in two countries, but the most vile threat to your seeing Sidney’s recognition ceremony was now two measly city blocks of Pittsburgh traffic.

Your Uber driver groaned. “Sorry, dear,” he said. “Looks like we’re gonna be backed up for a while.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” you assured, glancing at your phone to realize that it was already 6:42, giving you about ten minutes to get inside if you wanted to witness your the pregame festivities honoring your boyfriend.

You had only one option.

“You know what?” you began, unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for your bag. “I’m just gonna run. Thank you so much for your time. I swear I’ll leave you a nice tip. ‘M sorry for leaving you stuck.”

You watched your driver’s eyes widen in the rearview mirror. “Miss, I don’t think that’s a good idea!” he tried to protest.

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I know my way. Again, thank you.”

With that, you jumped out of the car and set off toward the arena, walking briskly up the hill leading to the entrance. Your breath created small white puffs in the frigid air, and you pulled your coat around your waist more tightly, thankful that you had grabbed the woolen scarf hanging on the back of your office door at the last second before departing. You rushed up the sidewalk, burying the bottom half of your face within the warmth of the fabric, and retrieved your phone to pull up the pass that the Penguins’ front office had sent over earlier in the afternoon. You sighed in relief when you found it, and once more checked the time — 6:47.

You just might make it.

As you finally approached the arena doors, you made a beeline directly for the club level entrance, smiling when you saw a familiar face.

“Hi, Manny,” you said to your favorite arena attendant as he pushed the door open and welcomed you in from the cold.

“Well, look who it is!” Manny exclaimed, hugging you briefly. “I didn’t think you’d be here!”

“I didn’t either,” you panted, smiling. “But I made it.”

Manny patted your arm and looked toward his colleague.

“Joey, I’m gonna escort this young lady down to the tunnel so she can get a better view of tonight’s little event,” Manny said with a wink, pressing the button on the elevator in front of you.

“No, no, that’s okay,” you protested, shaking your head as he ushered you into the elevator. “Really, I can just go up to his suite and watch from there. I don’t need to go down to the tunnel.”

Manny laughed and shook his head, nodding to the elevator attendant. “I don’t think so, hun,” he chuckled. “Not on my watch. We’ll get you down there and give you an up-close view.”

You sighed, shrugging off your jacket and scarf and folding them over your arm.

“Thank you, Manny,” you said with a grateful smile. Manny nodded, just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the depths of the arena.

“Come on,” Manny motioned toward himself. “Give me your things, and you go.”

Acutely aware that the clock was really ticking now, you didn’t put up a fight and passed your belongings to Manny, who silently pointed toward the tunnel outside the home locker room, where you caught a glimpse the tail end of the line of Sidney’s teammates, with Geno bringing up the rear as the men made their way to their bench for the presentation.

At that moment, Geno happened to look to his right, spotting you immediately.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed, still walking behind his team. He threw his hands atop his head and laughed in disbelief. “Oh, my god, Sid will be so happy you’re here!”

You smiled at Geno’s excitement, nodding as he pumped his fist once before disappearing from sight.

As you reached the locker room doors, you took a deep breath, knowing that only one player was still behind them.

Sidney stepped out of the room, and you noted that his shoulders sagged slightly, his eyes downcast as he sighed softly, turning in the direction of the ice before pausing as the PA announcer started his introduction, rattling off Sid’s lengthy list of accomplishments.

You took that as your cue.

“Hi,” you uttered quietly.

His head whipping toward you, Sidney’s eyes found yours after the briefest of moments, wide and gleaming. He breathed your name; you only grinned.

In a heartbeat, he was in front of you, gathering your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly.

When he eventually broke the kiss, he hurriedly whispered, “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, resting your hands on his shoulder pads. “Same thing everyone else is doing,” you answered. “Celebrating you.”

Sidney giggled incredulously. “God, I can’t believe you’re-“

“And now, please welcome to the ice, your captain-“

You shoved at Sidney’s chest with a gasp, pushing him toward the ice where the announcer’s voice echoed and the crowd roared.

“Go!” you shouted.

Sidney immediately reached for your hand, pulling you along as he passed the spot where you had planned to stand and watch, hidden from view.

“You’re coming with me,” Sidney said firmly even as you shook your head. He firmly nodded his own.

“Yes. My family’s out there already. Stand by them,” he instructed, eyes glimmering with joy.

Your ears began to ring — not just because of the crowd noise, but because of the intensity of it all. Parading you in front of the entire Penguins organization and 18,000 of his fans was not something Sidney took lightly, and you knew that. You’d been in attendance for milestone games before, sitting in the stands with his family, or with Mario in the suite. And, of course, you were aware that you’d been spotted in public by Sid’s side before — at dinner dates on Mount Washington and at bars on the North Shore — but this incredibly public gesture was something entirely new in your relationship with him. It was overwhelming, but somehow still felt right. And if Sid felt ready, then so did you. You’d do anything to make him smile the way he had when he first saw you tonight in the tunnel — especially on a night that was so sentimental, one that you’d look back on together for a lifetime.

And even if you had been hesitant, it didn’t much matter, because without a second to resist, you were walking out onto the unrolled carpet while Sidney skated alongside you, parallel to your path, as fans applauded. Troy, Trina, and Taylor were visibly stunned as they watched Sidney enter with you at his side. The crowd cheered Sidney louder and louder with each passing moment, and he waved and nodded in acknowledgement, while you reached the end of the carpet and were embraced by each of Sidney’s family members.

“When did you get here?!” Taylor asked through clenched teeth as she tried to remain composed, despite the signature Crosby laughter bubbling from her lips.

“Literally minutes ago,” you answered in the same manner as Trina murmured your name tearfully, shaking her head in astonishment.

Troy smiled warmly down at you, squeezing your shoulder.

“This is gonna mean the world to him,” Troy spoke softly.

You nodded in acknowledgement, incredibly thankful to be able to share in Sidney’s special moment next to the people who raised him.

When the crowd’s volume eventually faded enough for the PA announcer to begin the recognition, you still barely heard the words echoing from the loudspeakers. Instead, you focused on the man standing next to you — the one you’d loved since the day you met; the one who left you in awe each day, not because of his unmatched talent on the ice but because of the resolute goodness of his soul; the one who would, in time, surely be the person you decided to step away from your career for, to settle down beside, and to start a family with. Before him, you were sure that you would never slow down for long enough to get married and have children; after him, you thought about doing so every single day, and you were surprisingly thrilled by that very thought which used to send you into a panic.

This man meant so much to so many — this night was proof of that — but he meant the most to you, and you knew without a doubt that he would be the one with whom you built your forever.

But, for now, on this night, he continued his own building, that of his hockey legacy — a fairy-tale story that started in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia, and continued more than a thousand miles away in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with a thousand chapters so far and much still to be written.

_____

“A little birdie told me you might be here this evening,” a distinct French-Canadian accented voice said softly as his fingers curled around your shoulders.

You snickered, finishing your sip of merlot, and turned to face Mario’s towering figure. You leaned into his chest and were immediately wrapped into a warm hug.

“Was that little birdie named Shanny by any chance?” you asked with a grin. Mario simply shrugged coyly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“In all seriousness, sweetheart, I was so glad when I heard you were coming,” Mario said, his voice even and serious. “He wants to share it all with you, especially the big stuff, like this. I can’t imagine how happy he was when he saw you.”

You smiled, cognizant of the common sentiments coming from the two most influential men in Sidney’s life. You knew how much you meant to your boyfriend, but hearing that Sid let both Troy and Mario know the same brought a warmth deep within your chest.

“It was pretty incredible. I’m just so pleased that it worked out,” you said fondly. “I want to share it all with him, too.”

Mario nodded, squeezing your bicep softly.

“Come on,” he encouraged with a smirk, nodding toward the bar at the back of the suite. “Let’s get another drink and celebrate.”

_____

“What a night,” Sidney murmured warmly into the dim master suite, lighted only by a few candles on the end tables that you’d lit upon returning home, signaling that it was time for your and Sid’s own private celebration in the comfort of his home.

You hummed in acknowledgment, circling your fingertips on his bare chest.

“I’m so glad you were there,” he added, placing a kiss in your hair.

You smiled up at him and reached to peck his lips.

“Me too,” you said. “This day couldn’t have been more perfect.”

An ornery smile tugged at the corner’s of Sidney’s plump lips.

“You don’t think so?” he began, making you furrow your brow in question. Seeing your confusion, he added, “I can think of one thing that would make this day even better.”

Leaving you lying in his bed watching him, propped up on your elbows, Sidney pulled on his sweats at the foot of the bed and crossed the room to his chest of drawers, reaching into the top one, his fingers moving all the way toward the back of it.

And there, even in the darkness, you knew exactly what he’d retrieved.

You sat straight up, pulling the red velvet-shaded sheets around your bare form. Tears already formed in your eyes, and you covered your mouth in utter amazement as Sidney walked toward you with a look of determination and knelt at the side of the bed.

“Sidney,” you whispered, splaying your hand across your chest.

“I was gonna wait until you were here next weekend to do this, but I honestly can’t wait anymore,” Sid began, his serious expression giving way to a joyful one. “This day has been all about me, and don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful to be where I am in my career,” he continued. “But the whole day, knowing you weren’t going to be there, I just felt... empty inside. It felt like a waste. I was just plastering on a smile and saying all the right things, but in my heart, it just felt meaningless if you couldn’t be a part of it. That’s how every day feels when I can’t be beside you.”

You were sobbing unabashedly now, your hand resting on Sidney’s neck as you listened to him.

“And I know you love your work, and I would never dream of asking you to give that up. But someday, in the not-so-distant future, my days of playing hockey are going to come to an end. And the second that happens, I can promise you this — I’m going to come to wherever you are, just to be near you,” he spoke, his voice quivering just slightly as his emotions became evident. “Because someday, whether it’s ten years from now or five years or a month or tomorrow, I wanna marry you, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. So...”

Sidney cleared his throat and lifted the box he held so that you could see it, flipping open the top to reveal the loveliest marquis-cut halo diamond ring you had ever seen. Your breath caught in your throat, and before Sidney could ask the question, you let out a firm “yes!”

Sidney threw his head back in laughter — your favorite song.

“How do you know what I was gonna ask?” he teased, leaning closer to you with one brow quirked.

“Sorry,” you muttered halfheartedly. “Okay, okay. Ask me.”

Sidney beamed. “Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you confirmed the second he finished the sentence, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him urgently. Both of you smiled into the kiss and continued your embrace for several moments, parting only to stare at each other and giggle incredulously.

“I love you,” you whispered. “And trust me, it won’t be ten years or five years from now. I’ll be ready very, very soon. I promise,” you assured.

Sidney’s smile grew even wider, and you knew he was somewhat taken aback by your assertion.

“Really?” he asked, smoothing his hand over your hair. You nodded.

“Give me a season or two,” you replied. “I know I can always go back to it. But this... us... nothing is more important to me, Sid. I want to spend all of my days with you, too.”

With that, Sidney grasped your jaw and kissed you with a fervor that told of not only his passion for you but the relief he felt in hearing your statement.

“I love you,” he panted when he finally pulled his lips from yours. “Can I put the ring on you now?”

With a laugh, you joked, “Well, I suppose so.”

Sidney shook his head in amusement and pulled the ring from the box, sliding it onto your left hand. You wiggled your fingers and admired the perfect fit of the ring, not to mention its exceptional beauty.

“Wow,” you whispered, looking back to Sidney. You held the back of your hand up to him and teased, “A bunch of 1,000 game gifts and a fiancée all in one night. Not bad for you, eh?”

Sidney reached for your hand and left a long kiss on your knuckles.

“Not bad at all,” he answered earnestly.

#1000 for 87 #my writing #sidney crosby #crosby #sidney crosby writing #sidney crosby fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fanficfion #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby one shot #pittsburgh penguins

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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years

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Matching Marks

Leonardo x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: Hey your Soulmate stories are really great! So I wanted to ask you if you could write a soulmate AU with Leo maybe?

Note: I’ve been in a Leo mood for a little while here and I’ve always had a thing for soulmate aus, as you all know.

Warnings: A situation similar to a lockdown, but nothing graphic.

Word Count: 1.8k

Everyone on the planet had a mark in the spot where their soulmate would first touch them. It only made sense that Leo had the most common one: a black mark stretched over the entirety of his palm. This made him cautious to shake anyone’s hand or high-five anyone. Donnie had pointed out that if it really was from shaking someone’s hand, the mark definitely wouldn’t cover his whole palm, and also, the mark would probably wrap around to the top of his hand, but it didn’t.

This left Leo more confused than anything. He supposed he’d just have to wait until he met his soulmate to be able to tell. And yet, thoughts of his destined soulmate were more bittersweet than anything else. After all, he was a giant mutant turtle. That certainly didn’t make meeting people easy. Especially when he couldn’t go out in sunlight unless the world was ending.

“Do not trouble yourself with it, my child.” Splinter advised, sipping from his tea. “Fate will happen when it happens. Chasing after it only makes it run faster.”

“Yes, Master Splinter.” He nodded and got up from the floor. He and the guys were about due for a patrol.

***

Exam week was hell. You were curled up in the library, tucked away in a study room typing away a fifteen page essay that was due in your biology class. You reached for your iced chai, but when you picked it up, the tea was gone, leaving only ice in your cup. Great. According to the clock, it was approaching eleven, but during exam week, the library was open 24/7, which was good for you. You didn’t know what you’d do without it.

So, praising the studying gods that you’d saved up your dining dollars for the end of the year for this very reason, you locked your laptop and got up, leaving the safe haven that was your quiet study room and walking to the elevator. You rode down to the first floor and got in line at the tea shop tucked into the library, a lifesaver if there ever was one. You knew that you wouldn’t make it through the night without some more caffeine.

As you stood there, waiting, you absentmindedly rolled up the sleeves of your cozy knit sweater. This, of course, revealed the dark soulmark that cuffed your forearm.

Your soulmark was curious for a few reasons. The first, and most obvious reason, though, was that it didn’t look…human. Sure you’d heard stories where people had weird marks like yours, met their soulmate, and then everything made sense, but yours looked like it was some sort of hand-print. Kind of. That is, if hands had three massive fingers. Maybe the way your soulmate grabbed your arm would make the print look a little weird, but you weren’t sure.

You looked down at the mark, studying it for a few seconds before pulling your sleeve back down and stepping up to the register to order your tea.

Fate would have to wait, at least until exams were over anyway.

***

It was a pretty normal patrol. It was getting late, approaching midnight, and the guys were doing what they usually did, roaming the city until either A) they found some trouble to take care of or B) they got a call from Rebecca Vincent, telling the about a problem the police couldn’t get to fast enough.

Tonight, it looked like it would be option B.

Vincent had called the turtles because they were closer, and it was a good thing, too, because they’d gotten several calls from worried students inside the library that the Foot Clan was inside, rounding up hostages.

“They must be there looking for Stockman’s research. There’s no other explanation for them to break into that place in the middle of exam week.” Donnie reasoned as they raced across the rooftops.

“Unless they’re just there for scare tactics.” Raph suggested.

“Either way, we’ve gotta get inside and make sure all the students are safe.” Leo said. “Donnie, find where they’re gathering the students. Raph, work on taking out as many of the Foot as you can. Mikey, you and I are gonna sweep the upper floors and look for students. We need to get them to a secure location.”

“Aye-aye captain. I call the fourth floor.”

“I’ve got three.” Leo nodded. As soon as they got into the building, Leo raced up the stairs, not trusting the elevators when so much was on the line.

On his way, he took out a few of the Foot Clan, knocking them out cold and getting to the third floor without much trouble. The fluorescent lights were bright, and the common area, where all the computers and tables were was completely empty. Following his advanced senses, he walked back towards the bathrooms and gently pushed open the door to find a room full of cowering students.

“Hey, guys. Just, um, stay in here. We’ve got things under control, alright?”

A guy wearing a t-shirt with art of Leo and his brothers on it nodded, his face serious. There were a few people like that guy, people who knew about the turtles and trusted them. He knew that if things like this kept happening, there would be more people like that as news of them spread. He hoped that his presence could help these kids feel safe.

Continuing his sweep, he walked back towards the shelves, where there were several more students, a handful of girls, hiding by the books.

“I’ll take you guys to the bathrooms. That’s where everyone else is hiding. Follow me.”

And though they looked hesitant at first, once they realized that he was their best shot, they followed him to the bathrooms and hid with the rest of the students there.

“Leo, I think we’ve got everything under control down here. Donnie found the hostages.” Raph reported. “We’re taking care of the rest of the Foot right now so don’t—” He paused and Leo heard loud noises from downstairs. “Nevermind, there’s more. Finish up there and get down here as fast as you can. The reinforcements just arrived.”

Moving faster now, Leo walked towards the study rooms. All of them were empty except for one, in which there was a table overturned, a girl quivering behind it.

***

You looked up at the big green mutant with wide eyes, shaking. His gaze softened when he saw you, clear blue eyes searching you for damage.

“Are you okay, Miss?” He asked, his voice soft.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the Foot Clan. They want something. But we’re not going to let anything happen, alright? Do you want me to help you get to the bathroom?”

“No, I’m going to stay in here, I think.” You shook your head. “Could you…could you just come find me when it’s all over?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be back soon.” He winked and then closed the door, leaving you in the quiet of your study room with nothing but the butterflies fluttering around your stomach and the memory of his blue, blue eyes.

The next twenty minutes of your life might have been the longest. You’d sent a message to your parents to let them know you were safe and spent the remainder of the time sitting there, sipping on your chai and waiting for whatever friendly (handsome?) mutant to come find you. Every once in a while, you’d hear noises from the lower levels, clashing metal, shouts and screams, and then there was a patch of quiet. A long, unsettling one.

You waited, crouched behind the overturned table, shaking, peeking up at the door every few seconds until finally, it opened and it was the same mutant that had come in before, a gentle smile on his face.

“Coast is clear. We’re evacuating the building.”

“Okay, thank god. Thank you.” You went to stand up, but learned that the way you’d been sitting had caused your leg to fall asleep and you fell back down.

The mutant rushed over and grabbed onto your arm, helping you up and setting you on the table you hadn’t pushed over. Then, he worked to stand the overturned table upright again.

When he turned around to face you again, you were staring at your arm, your sleeve pulled up, exposing a glittering golden mark in the shape of…his hand print? He looked at his hand and his eyes widened as he stared at his palm, which was now glittering and gold instead of the inky black that had covered it his whole life.

Tears welled up in his blue eyes and he smiled, looking at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen in your life. Slowly, he reached out and touched his hand to the mark on your arm, lining them up again as you watched. He was gentle, careful, his touch tentative.

“Wow…” He whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. He reached up to wipe it away, but you beat him to it, your free hand rising to stroke his scaled green cheek and he melted at your touch. “It’s you.”

“You found me.” You whispered, tears welling up in your own eyes and your heart racing, warm with emotions. “I’m Y/N.”

“Leonardo.” He introduced. “I’m sorry…” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m probably not what you expected.”

You giggled, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. “Well, no, I can’t say you’re what I pictured, but…I do have a thing for superheroes, so…” You shrugged. “I think I made out pretty well, all things considered.”

“So you’ve heard of us?”

“I caught a glimpse of you that day when the aliens came. I guess I should have put two and two together, but…” You motioned to the gold mark on your arm and then to his massive three-fingered hand. “Anyway, this is fine. I…well, I think you’re perfect for me. And apparently, so does the universe.”

“I was honestly a little afraid this day would never come. But…now that I’ve found you, I promise to be the best soulmate you could have ever asked for.” Leo wrapped his arms around you, resting his head atop of yours.

You’d never felt so safe in your life, but you knew that as long as you had him, nothing bad would ever happen. You knew he’d protect you.

“We better get you out of here.” Leo said quietly, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s go.”

You stood up carefully and took his hand in yours, slinging your laptop bag over your other shoulder. He gave your hand a squeeze and looked down at you, smiling. Earlier that day he’d had no idea that the evening patrol would bring his destiny right to him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#leo #leonardo #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #leo imagine #leonardo imagine #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt imagine

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grailfinders · 3 years

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Fate and Phantasms #142: Ishtar

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making Best Goddess and, according to @hasishtardoneanythingwrong, a servant who has done absolutely nothing very little wrong, Ishtar!

In this build, Ishtar is a Divine Soul Sorcerer to balance her blasting abilities with her divine nature and a Zeal Cleric to push her explosive capabilities and godhood to the max.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: The second part of the oldest bromance in human history.

Race and Background

Unfortunately WotC hasn’t figured out how to balance literal god PCs yet, but since Ishtar is a demiservant we can still technically call her a Protector Aasimar, giving her +1 Wisdom, +2 Charisma, Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal some hands, and the Light cantrip.

Since she protects Uruk in her own special way, we’ll call her a Goddess Alliance Anarch. This gives you Animal Handling and Religion proficiencies, as well as some bonus spells as you level up!

Ability Scores

As the goddess of love and also blowing up mountains, your Charisma needs to be as high as possible. Follow that up with Dexterity, you can literally fly, that’s pretty fast. After that will be Constitution, you can take a lot of abuse, especially if it’s coming from the writers. Your Wisdom has to be next so we can multiclass, keep that in mind if you’re rolling. Your Strength isn’t amazing, but it’s not like you’re using it anyway. Finally, dump Intelligence. Not gonna dwell on that one, let’s just move on.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: Honestly I think “Divine Soul” is kinda selling yourself short, but we’ll work in the framework we’re given. You can cast Spells now, including your Divine Magic from the cleric spell list, using your Charisma. You’re also Favored by the Gods, giving you the option of adding 2d4 to a failed save or attack roll once per short rest.

For cantrips you get Thunderclap and True Strike for offensive options (I mean you do aim. Even if your target’s a mountain, aiming is important.) You also get Minor Illusion and Friends to manipulate people into doing what you want. Finally, your stand against the Three Goddess Alliance grants you the cantrips Fire Bolt and Produce Flame to make the battlefield a little bit spicier.

For first level spells, you get Bless from being a divine soul, as well as Compelled Duel, Speak with Animals, and Thunderwave from being an Anarch. For your actually chosen spells, Mage Armor makes your outfit feasible, and Feather Fall will be very helpful once you start flying.

2. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic, giving you sorcerer points equal to your sorcerer level. Right now you can turn points into spell slots or vice versa, but it’ll get more interesting later.

You can also cast Disguise Self, in case you have to, I don’t know, organize a servant-based wacky races kind of event? Idk, whatever.

3. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get Metamagic, letting you alter your spells to suit your mood by using sorcery points. A Transmuted spell lets you swap out its acid, cold, fire, lightning, poison, or thunder damage for another option on that list. Meanwhile, you can use a Distant spell to double a spell’s range, making your archery much more effective.

You also become a Radiant Soul, spending an action to transform yourself and gaining a flying speed for up to a minute. You can also deal extra radiant damage to a creature you hit with an attack or spell once per turn. You can do this once per long rest. It’s not a long trip, but it’s free.

On top of that, you get second level spells this turn. Distort Value lets you halve or double an object’s apparent value for the duration, perfect for haggling with a certain someone. You also get Beast Sense and Shatter from your Anarch spell list. The former isn’t that in-character, but the latter is a good start to taking down that mountain.

4. Sorcerer 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Constitution and Charisma, giving you more health, better concentration, and stronger spells. What a glow up!

You can also cast the cantrip Resistance to add 1d4 to a creature’s next save, or use Find Traps to make sneaking into Gilgamesh’s many treasure vaults slightly easier. If it works.

5. Sorcerer 5: You’re a god, so you probably shouldn’t be messing up that often. To help with that, Magical Guidance lets you spend a sorcery point to re-roll a failed skill check. Maybe it’ll help.

You can also cast Fly this level, giving you more frequent flying miles at the cost of your concentration. You can also Conjure Animals if you want to show up that gazelle-loving sister of yours. More on-target, however, is your other Anarch spell, Conjure Barrage. Gosh, it’s almost like you’re an archer or something.

6. Cleric 1: This whole flying around exploding things is great, but I think we can put more pizazz on it. Or, as they say down in Amonkhet, let’s add some Zeal. That’s right, we’re stealing from two MTG planes this build! As a Priest of Zeal, you can attack as a bonus action if you attack as an action a number of times per long rest equal to your wisdom modifier. That sounds kind of useless, but as a Zeal Cleric you also get proficiency with martial weapons, meaning that yes, you can use a bow and arrow. The archer class really is made up of archers!

You can also cast and prepare Spells using your Wisdom, but we got the really good ones in your sorcerer list, so don’t worry too much here. You do get some more cantrips, though! Thaumaturgy lets you throw your godly weight around, Light lets you cast light again using a worse casting modifier, and Guidance gives a creature some helpful advice from their favorite goddess, adding 1d4 to their next check.

You also get some domain spells, but they’re both smites and you’re an archer, so...

7. Cleric 2: The real reason we’re dipping is for your Channel Divinity option, which you can use once per short rest. You could use it for Turn Undead, forcing a wisdom save against all undead near you (with a dc of 8 + proficiency + wisdom modifier), but the much more fun option is Consuming Fervor. This turns one fire or thunder damage roll into its maximum instead of rolling. That will be very scary later.

8. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level divine souls get Empowered Healing. You might not have any healing spells, but just being around people makes them feel a bit better. This lets you spend a sorcery point to re-roll any dice being used in a healing roll near you once per turn.

Speaking of healing, we’re still not doing that! You can now Bestow Curses onto people. Serves them right, calling you a “useless goddess”. This is one of those creative spells, so have fun with it!

9. Sorcerer 7: Seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells! Anarchs get Dominate Beast and Stoneskin, and while neither are technically in character the latter could be very useful given your less than stellar AC. Also, literally turning yourself into gemstones is a real power move.

Your spell of choice this level is Ice Storm, letting you pummel a 20′ radius area with plenty of hail (or fiery debris, or just pure force), enough to turn the area into difficult terrain for a round.

10. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to grab the Spell Sniper feat, letting your spells ignore most cover, and spells you cast that require an attack roll have two times their normal range. You also learn Eldritch Blast to further flex on those dumb warlocks. They have to sell their soul and waste an invocation to get 300′ range blasts, and here you are with 480′ range and your soul’s intact! Hah!

You can also exude an Aura of Purity now, preventing disease, weakening poison damage, and granting advantage on a ton of status effect saves.

11. Sorcerer 9: Ninth level sorcerers get fifth level spells, including your final Anarch spell, Destructive Wave. It’s only got a range of thirty feet, but it never hurts to prepare for an ambush. For longer range attacks, Flame Strike will do nicely. We’re still not quite at “blasting a mountain to smithereens” level power, but we’re getting there.

12. Sorcerer 10: Tenth level sorcerers can get the most out of their spells by making them Empowered, letting them re-roll a number of dice on their damage roll, up to their charisma modifier.

You can also cast Dancing Lights for a bit of a dramatic flair, or Creation to make gemstones out of thin air. Heck, you could even make a proper Boat of Heaven with this!

13. Sorcerer 11: Another two levels have passed, that means you get another spell level. Sunbeam gives you a reusable sunlight blast, dealing radiant damage and blinding creatures that fail their constitution save. You can use this attack again as your action each turn for up to a minute. Sadly this isn’t affected by either of your range enhancements, but you’ve still got plenty of airspace to work with.

14. Sorcerer 12: If we’re going to blast a mountain apart we’ve got to get serious. Use this ASI to get the Elemental Adept feat, focusing on Thunder damage. Once you take this feat, all dice on thunder damage rolls coming from spells always count as at least a 2, and they ignore thunder resistances.

15. Sorcerer 13: The first step to launching the literal planet Venus at somebody is actually getting the damn thing, and that means we need to leave the atmosphere at a moment’s notice. The closest we can come to that here is Plane Shift. You can also use this on enemy creatures as a melee attack

16. Sorcerer 14: Fourteenth level Divine Souls get an Angelic Form you can transform into as a bonus action. This gives you a flying speed of 30′ that is basically permanent until you’re incapacitated or you just get rid of them on your own. Have fun with those orbital bombardments!

17. Sorcerer 15: Sunburst sounds like a good pick for your eighth level spell. This one actually does get a range boost, which is good because it deals damage in a 60′ radius. Creatures within that radius get a constitution save, and failing that means a lot of radiant damage and being blind until it makes the save on the end of its turn. Sadly, it’s stuck on radiant damage, but it’s still an effective blasting spell.

18. Sorcerer 16: Use your last ASI to max out your Charisma so that whole “making the save” thing from last level never happens.

19. Sorcerer 17: To make those saves even less likely, our final metamagic option is Heightened Spell, causing one creature’s first save of the spell in question to be made at disadvantage. Basically you’re saying “like you had a choice in the matter”.

Speaking of spells though, we can finally pull Venus through for a charged shot, thanks to the ninth level spell Meteor Swarm. With a max range of 1-2 miles this truly is nuking the planet from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.

Here’s a step by step guide for removing a mountain. 1. Hang out in the Troposphere. 2. Cast Meteor Swarm, swapping out Fire for Thunder damage. 3. Channel Divinity, maxing out the thunder damage for extra fun. 4. Deal 120 Thunder damage that ignores resistances, on top of 20d6 bludgeoning damage. 5. Enjoy your new crater.

20. Sorcerer 18: Your capstone level of sorcerer gives you an Unearthly Recovery. When you’re bloodied, you can spend a bonus action to heal yourself for half your HP, once per long rest. You had enough trouble in the underworld as it is, no point in going back again.

Pros:

As I just mentioned in level 19, you can deal a lot of damage. Like, Sanson level damage, without all the nonsense attached to it. You’ve got big booms, and multiple ways to make those booms hurt even more than they should.

Flying on a spellcaster is just. Really, really good. Especially on one built for range. There’s almost literally nothing they can do to you up here. Like, arrows, maybe, but you can just retaliate with the literal wrath of god. Plus, you’re probably out of counterspell range, so there’s nothing the DM can do to you!

A lot of your spells are focused on damage, but you do still have plenty of variety in your spell list, just in case. And on the off chance you’re fighting someone in a silence bubble, you can just change your thunder spells to acid or something.

Cons:

For most of this build we’re relying on the Flight spell to get off the ground, which eats up your Concentration and has a chance of failure when you take damage. It’s not ideal.

Those Cleric Levels are very useful, but they still push back your spell progression by 2 levels, which means you’ll have even less time with your An Gal Ta Ki Gal Se than you would normally.

You can’t fly everywhere. Caves exist. Buildings exist. I mean you totally can blast holes to get where you need to, just don’t expect to be that popular with whoever owns the building. Also, fighting in cramped areas plays to your biggest weakness: squishiness. Your AC is only 15, and you’ve got barely over 120 HP, which as we just discussed, someone built like you can take out very easily.

#Fate Grand Order #FGO #Ishtar #d&d 5th edition #Fate and Phantasms #Sorcerer #Cleric

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minimitchell · 4 years

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callumhighwayweek day 2 - “I can’t think straight around you.” (ao3 link)

“I should go. Whit will be wondering where I am.”

Ben doubts it. Whitney was surrounded by Chantelle and Lola on either side, doing their umpteenth shot for the night at the bar the last time he’d seen her, right before he followed her fiancé through the heavy, wooden doors of the pub.

The Vic is packed tonight. The party they had going on for whatever reason and the regular Friday evening punters mixing together to fill the place up to the brim and no one even noticed Callum leaning down to whisper the words car lot into Ben’s ear on his way to the gents. He doubts anyone even noticed both of them are missing.

He’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t do this anymore; wouldn’t come running whenever Callum asked, or begged, him to. But it’s almost like he’s powerless when it comes to this, to him. Callum only has to look at him to get him to follow; to meet him somewhere secluded in the dark of the night; to accept the invitation to have him in his bed whenever Whitney is out or away.

He didn’t plan for it to happen again after that first time in the park and it’s obvious Callum hadn’t either. But there was this confrontation between them before the second time, a snide remark from Ben that snowballed into a full-blown argument, and before he could even get his wits about him they were tearing at each other’s clothes, pressing biting kisses onto the other’s lips. The third time started with a text from Callum saying they needed to talk and ended with Ben on his knees in the Arches.

He stopped counting after that.

Ben would love to pretend this is just about his purely selfish want for sex, a quick and easy way to get an orgasm, but it hasn’t been about that for a while now; maybe it never was. There’s nothing easy about this or about the ever-growing want to march into that building in a couple of weeks and beg Callum not to get married.

Ben Mitchell doesn’t get attached anymore and he certainly doesn’t catch feelings - only it seems he does for Callum Highway of all people.

So they meet up. They kiss, they have sex and Ben pretends he doesn’t leave a piece of his already battered heart with Callum every time he leaves him afterwards.

“‘Course. Don’t want her to think you’re playing away.”

He can barely keep the venom out of his voice; the jealousy bleeding into their conversations more and more the longer this affair between them continues. Callum might not want to label this as one, might not want to think too much about what they’re doing at all, but it’s exactly what’s been happening.

They’re sneaking around behind Whitney’s back and Callum might want to refuse to believe it, but he is actively cheating when he fucks into Ben on the couch at the car lot after basically eye fucking him across the pub the entire night at the Vic beforehand.

“Ben, come on.”

Ben masks his eye roll by looking down at the buttons of his shirt he’s still doing up again, fumbling with the little, white buttons and smoothing the fabric down when he’s done. He’s becoming more and more transparent the more they do this, have this kind of conversation with each other, he knows he is but he just can’t help it. He can’t keep pretending this is enough for him.

Callum is standing a feet away from the couch, stepping back into his jeans and flattening his hair back down so it doesn’t look like Ben ran his fingers through it while they were having sex with each other - even though that’s exactly what happened.

Looking at Callum now, Ben knows he’s easily the worst mistake he’s made since coming back to Walford; the one thing he never planned for. Not trying to help Callum find his way to himself, or kissing him that first time, he couldn’t regret that even if he tried. But letting himself go back time and time again; letting Callum touch and kiss and feel him ways he hasn’t let another man do in so long; letting himself fall for him in the process of all this.

“It’s alright. Don’t matter, does it.”

He isn’t really sure whether he’s talking about his own feelings or about Callum going back to Whitney when they both know this will happen again anyway, but it does make Callum pause in front of him, looking up to search Ben’s face for something he doesn’t really know. Ben doesn’t meet his eyes; his shoeless feet prove to be more interesting right now.

Callum takes a step forward, feet aligning with Ben’s on the ground. He’s wearing his black sneakers again already, ready to walk out the door and back to his fiancée, leaving Ben behind in the cold; nothing more than the outsider looking in.

The thought alone makes something in his stomach squeeze and turn.

“I know this is… complicated. And I do love her...”

Callum’s voice sounds strained, pained even, so Ben holds back the snort threatening to come out of his mouth, refraining from pointing out that Callum can’t love her that much if he keeps going back to Ben, keeps telling him he misses him the second they’re back in each other’s arms. If he really loved her as much as he likes to claim in front of Ben, he wouldn’t feel the need to keep texting him in the middle of the night.

He’s getting married to a woman while Ben keeps doing everything to get him to somehow choose him - complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“But with you- it’s like I can’t think straight around you.”

Callum crouches down so he’s on Ben’s eye level, one of his hands darting out to run over Ben’s thigh in front of him. His eyes are bright and sincere, expression so completely open and honest, and this is why he keeps going back. This is the Callum he can’t seem to walk away from.

Because there’s so much potential between them. Ben is sure they could be so good together if given a real chance. They feel like two puzzle pieces to him sometimes, only making sense when put together to create an entire picture.

The knowledge that they’ll never get there is sobering. And too much to think about right now.

“Unfortunate turn of-”

“Ben.”

They huff out a quiet laugh together, heads falling forward before their eyes meet again with quiet smiles. Callum's thumb on his thigh moves back and forth, caressing the skin underneath in soothing motions. His other hand comes up to Ben’s cheek, taking it safely into the palm of his hand, and it takes every ounce of willpower for Ben not to lean into the touch.

“Just- when I’m with you, it’s like my head ain’t even working anymore. Like it doesn’t know what’s good for me. Nothing makes sense until you’re there with me. I can’t make sense of any of this.”

Ben knows that trying to convince Callum that the solution to how he feels is being true to himself and admitting he’s gay is for nought. They had this conversation, sometimes even an argument about it, a million times before and the outcome always remains the same - with Callum storming off insisting he loves Whitney and Ben getting drunk alone in the Albert, rejecting every guy that comes up to him because they aren’t the one he really wants.

It’s hopeless. And the endless cycle of it does neither of them any good.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna figure it out.”

It’s the closest thing he can say to what he wants, that doesn’t make Callum walk away in a huff. But the more he says it, the less he truly believes in it. He’s resigned; almost emotionless when he says it. Because there’s only so many reassuring words he can say when the results just don’t match.

Because while Callum does come back to him again and again to kiss the truth onto his skin, he still goes back to her every time afterwards to plan a wedding that keeps creeping closer and closer.

They are something with an expiration date, a limited lifespan.

And when the time, the ending, finally comes, Callum will be blissful and happily married and Ben will be left with a heart that’s been broken one too many times to ever be complete again.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Ben doesn’t think he could be even if he tried. He’s in way too deep for that.

No matter how disappointed or hurt he is by this push and pull they have going on, he knows Callum isn’t doing any of this intentionally. He knows, from deep personal experience, that his head is in a right state at the moment and he doesn’t want to add to the storm that’s already raging inside of Callum. He wants to make it better for him. If only Callum would let him.

“I’m not. Promise.”

They keep looking at each other for a long moment; no further words shared between them. Ben keeps fiddling with the hem of Callum’s shirt, running his finger along the stitching on the inside. It doesn’t take long for their eyes to drop down to each other’s mouths and when they do, the space between them becomes charged again; heat rising inside their bodies.

Callum leans forward at the same time Ben leans back and so they fall back onto the couch together, Ben pulling Callum back on top of him with hands fisted in his shirt. Their mouths meet again, tongues sliding together and hands back to wandering over each other’s bodies.

There are kisses being pressed along his jaw and down his neck and Ben can’t help but let out a low moan in response to it, his hands coming back around to mess with the buttons on Callum’s checkered shirt again.

He’s about to slip the top button free when there’s a sharp ping coming from Callum’s jacket on the floor beside them, ripping through the tension between them. It’s like a bucket of ice cold water is being dumped on them; the sharp burst of the bubble they keep creating around them.

Because Ben already knows who it is that’s texting Callum right now and it serves as another stark reminder that he’s just the other man; the bit on the side.

Callum leans away from him to unearth his phone from the floor and Ben can immediately tell by the way his face changes that there’s no round two for them right now. Instead, Callum shuffles off of him, pocketing his phone again so he doesn’t have to look Ben in the eye. It’s probably easier for him that way, Ben reckons. He can’t relate.

“It’s Whit.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further. Ben is grateful for that; he doesn’t want to hear it anyway.

“Yeah.”

He watches him while Callum shrugs his jacket back on and runs his hands over his clothes to make himself look presentable again; combing through his hair and straightening his shirt.

When he’s done he turns back to Ben, taking one, two steps to him and leans down to press a soft kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. They never say ‘bye’ or ‘see you later’; still stuck somewhere between insisting to themselves this won’t happen again and knowing they will go back to longing for each other by tomorrow.

Ben knows the moment Callum’s lips leave his cheek, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of his touch, that it’ll always be like this for as long as this thing between them continues.

Callum will text again. And Ben knows he’ll come running each and every time.

No matter how much it hurts him.

#chweek2021 #callumhighwayweek2021 #ballum fic #my writing #bit in love with writing affair fic now tbh

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luca-moreno · 3 years

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operation: asteria

Uh. So this is only the most self-indulgent thing ever but let’s be honest, this is what we’re here for sooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Luca centric/sorta vague to leave room in the sandbox for other pov’s <3

FOLLOWS X

---

It’s a tense walk back to the shuttle.

Gone was the easy humour and levity of their initial foray into the marketplace. Now they push through the crowds with terse expressions, eyes scanning every passing face for a potential threat. Luca feels the weight of the disc on him like an anchor, dragging him down with each step and further troubled by how uneasy Eva and the Captain had seemed.

Whoever this Vance guy was, he was trouble.

Luca knows it’s selfish when there’s something much more vital at stake but a large part of him is still trying to push down the crushing disappointment that he won’t be able to meet his own contact. He would have liked to have tugged on that thread that might one day lead him to his brother.

Maybe, if he had been paying more attention, he might have noticed the shadows behind them before the screaming started.

Eva flares blue instantly, but the heavy lurch of the suddenly panicked crowd knocks Luca out of range of her barrier. He loses sight of her briefly in the crush of frenzied bodies. It’s a struggle to stay on his feet as he’s shoved and jostled by the stampede. Isaac’s voice is curt but calm in his ear and Luca forces himself to focus on the hum of Eva and Ben’s biotics. He almost locates them when an explosive rush of heat and noise hits him like a shockwave and he’s suddenly lifted off his feet and hurled far into the dirt.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence from the force of the impact, then a world of screaming sensation comes rushing back in. He blinks up at the fuzzy stars, ears ringing and filled with static along with the continual frustrating buzzing of his aids. He can't breathe through the smoke and charred dust in the air and he tastes blood in his mouth. He groans as he tries to roll over but his body feels too heavy and slow, like he’s moving under water.

A dark figure looms over him. Luca spies a flash of red along one arm and relief rushes though him despite the wall of flames at the figure’s back - relieved because the N7 stripe and the broad shoulders tell him it's the captain, and if Isaac is there, then Luca knows it’s gonna okay - right up until the front of Luca’s ajax armor is grabbed in a gloved fist and he’s lifted off the dirt.

No. Not the captain.... A face he doesn't recognize and Luca’s brain stutters in confusion but he can’t think through the darkness crowding in around the edges of his vision.

It swallows him whole.

It’s almost peaceful when Luca comes to but the silence gives way to a crackling static, cut off voices and a rhythmic pounding in his head.

He cracks one eye open, greeted by a wide, dark room and a handful of shadowy figures. His hands are bound behind his back and his first thought is the disc.

They had to be after the disc.

He hasn’t been awake for long when one of the figures approaches him.

“Oi, the kid’s awake.”

“Good. Get him up.”

It’s the only warning Luca gets before a rough pair of hands hauls him upright. A barefaced turian looms into his field of vision. He can’t hear the clack of his mandibles, but Luca can make out what he’s trying to say. Barely.

“What?” Luca wheezes, staring blankly at the turian in front of him.

“Where’s the disc?”

“What?” he says again.

The turian snarls something else and Luca tries to gesture to his head. It’s hard with his hands bound behind his back. “Wait, no. I… I can’t hear.”

Another figure approaches, human this time, and ugly as sin. Luca stares up at them from his position on the floor and tries not to let the quiver in his stomach show on his face. Razor squad, he realizes. They have to be. These must be the assholes that had been chasing Viz.

He tries to gesture to his head again, then makes a frustrated sound. “If you can undo… I can can fix... or… sign-”

There’s a long beat while the two mercs debate what to do but it’s a third voice that Luca can barely make out that has one of them reaching for his wrists. Luca uses the opportunity to press his thumb and ring finger together to activate a charge as soon as the merc makes contact. A flash of blue and white fizzles, crackling out from Luca’s gloved wrist and scrambling up the man’s arm. It spreads over his body as the merc gasps once then falls to the ground, convulsing.

The others scramble back with a yelp.

“Shit, be careful!” one of them yells. “Little fucker might have more.”

The turian’s mandibles click in an alien approximation of a human sneer. “Any other surprises for us, kid?”

“Guess you’ll just have to come closer and find out, huh?” Luca flexes his wrist and tries for what he hopes is a cocky smile.

It was that same lesson Kiosho had drummed into him on the wards when they were kids and strengthened by the time Isaac, Eva and even Ben had given him.

Be brave even you’re fucking terrified, because half the time, they won’t be able to tell the difference. And after Yamamotto... well, Luca’s wasn’t going to be caught defenceless again.

Another human, a woman with a jaggered scar down one cheek and one eye milky white, lifts her weapon. Her voice is a sneer as she points it in Luca’s direction. “Or we could just put a bullet in your brain-“

Luca freezes in place.

“Nah, big man would have our heads for that. He wants this one alive. And the disc. Better get him over here.”

They give Luca a wide berth but he’s conscious of the barrels of katanas, scimitars and claymores pointed at him.

A new figure approaches and Luca doesn’t need to skim his eyes over the red stripe to know who he is.

Jackson Vance.

This was the disgraced N7 that had made Eva react the way she had. There was more history there that Luca wasn’t privy to, but he knew Eva. There was more at play than whatever had been on his bastard’s file.

“Some piss poor judgement on the Alliance part here,” Vance says casually, crouching down to Luca’s level and eyeing him with a cold gaze. “A paladin, a fury and a goddamn fucking Cerberus phoenix and they gave the disc to you.”

Vance shakes his head as though bitterly disappointed as he climbs back to his feet. “Not much of a challenge.”

Luca jerks his chin at the man lying comatose on the ground nearby.

“Your friend over there seems to be enjoying his nap. He might be sore in the morning. Although I can’t remember what my charge was set to, maybe he wont wake up, maybe the next one will be-”

The turian ventures closer, and his movement interrupts Luca’s train of thought. His wrist glows orange with the activated omnitool and it only takes a minute for Luca to realise the turian is scanning him.

“He’s only got the one charge,” he informs Vance after a moment.

Vance’s expression doesn’t change. It’s cold like ice. “Then search him.”

“No!”

The remaining mercs descend on Luca without hesitation, plucking at his armor and rummaging through the pouches and compartments of his pockets. He knows they’ll find the disc but he kicks out anyway, fighting and thrashing where he could until the cold barrel of a gun presses against his temple and his blood turns cold.

Vance stares down at him. “I want to keep you alive, kid. But you’re testing my patience.”

“Yeah,” Luca swallows. “You’d be surprised how often I get tha- hey!”

They yank the scarf off from around his neck and throw it to the ground. “I just bought that,” he mutters but it’s not why his inside suddenly turn watery and his heart races. A three clawed hand tucks inside his breast plate and then withdraws the small case.

Damnit.

“You know they’re gonna find me, right?" Luca glares up at them as the mercs smirk amongst themselves and hold up the case in triumph. “The paladin, the fury… the phoenix. And when they do, you’re all going to be totally fucked.”

Vance leans down, close enough to Luca’s face he can feel his breath on his face. It’s uncomfortably close. “How was the paripo?”

The question throws Luca. “What?”

“The paripo. The local delicacy on a stick you and the fury were enjoying. How was it? I watched you all. Saw the way she looked at you. At him. She was always soft – so easy to manipulate. Doesn’t look like anything has changed. Give her enough rope and she’ll hang herself over and over again.”

“What the…” Luca breathes out before starting to shout. “Shut up! You don’t get to talk about her like that! You’ve got the disc, you got what you wanted so why don’t you just leave her alone-“

“Oh, the kid’s in love, huh? Cute,” one of the mercs chuckles from nearby.

“Shut up!” Luca tries to lunge but they hold him too tightly.

“Come on, Vance,” the turian snaps. “We got the disc, let’s put a round in this kid’s brain and get the fuck out of here. What more do you want?”

“I want the fury. But the phoenix will fetch us a nice bonus too. Not to mention the paladin’s ship currently in orbit.”

“Hey, man. No. What? No, I didn’t sign up for that shit. You’re fucking crazy.”

“Yeah, Vance, the disc is what we agreed to. Come on, let’s just get out of here and-“

It happens so fast Luca wouldn’t have known who fired if it wasn’t for the gun still smoking in Vance’s hand.

The merc’s blood pools on the floor, inching towards Luca’s boots as he tries to scramble back.

“You said she’ll find you?” Vance says mildly to Luca. “I’m counting on it, kid.”

#askldkajsdjad im sorry i really have no excuse for this #operation asteria #eva novakov #isaac cerrillo #scooter roosevelt #luca moreno

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Science Rules!

ShieldShock! 3,000+ words, Rated G, AO3 link under the cut

Bucky was a science nerd. He loved going to Stark Expo back in the day, and he loved walking around the labs and asking the various scientists what they were doing in their respective fields. And where Bucky went, Steve went.

That was how Darcy came to be more acquainted with the two of them when she started working in Stark’s fancy tower with Jane. She was working on her PhD in astrophysics at the time, interning with Jane again. However this time she was a paid intern, her paychecks being signed by the one and only Pepper Potts.

So when Bucky came in for the third time, Darcy asked what his deal was.

“I love science, but I don’t have the brains to do it. So I like to ask about it,” he smiled so genuinely at her that she couldn’t be annoyed anymore about being interrupted. Steve walked in five minutes later and spotted his best friend bent over a duct taped machine being schooled by a tiny brunette about the Einstein-Rosen Bridge.

“Steve, you’ve got to hear this,” Darcy turned at Bucky’s voice towards the door.

“Captain Rogers, what brings you up to the lab floor?” Darcy asked, straightening herself and cocking her head.

“Just looking for this punk,” he smiled at her. “And please, call me Steve.”

“It’s nice to meet you Steve,” Darcy walked over and shook his hand. “I’m Darcy, but in a few weeks I’ll be the proud owner of a doctorate, so I may ask everyone to start calling me Doctor Lewis,” she winked and pulled her hand back.

“Nice to meet you too, almost-Doctor Darcy Lewis,” he replied and followed her over to the rickety machine. “Anything sciencey will draw this one’s attention,” he nodded to Bucky who was eagerly waiting for more information.

“Explaining my work to him is good practice for my school work, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to other than Jane,” Darcy shrugged. “Care to learn a little more about all the gibberish Thor blubbers about all the time?” She smiled at Steve’s raised eyebrows.

“Would I ever!”

It became a habit for Bucky to come up to Jane and Darcy’s lab space. Tony was always playing loud music so Bucky couldn’t ask questions, and Bruce wasn’t a huge fan of visitors while he was in the zone. There were other labs, but they didn’t have the security clearance to deal with the former Winter Soldier and his golden retriever best friend.

“How are you a level six again?” Bucky asked one day while Steve was sitting in a rolling chair at Darcy’s desk munching on some pretzels. Darcy was tinkering on a machine while Bucky occasionally gave her tools. Steve perked up, he was wondering the same thing.

“Well Jane and I were there when Thor first touched down,” Darcy started while she screwed something in with a tiny screwdriver. “I tased him, SHIELD descended on us like harpies, and now I know a lot more than they want me to, so they gave me a high security clearance and a lot of NDAs. I had to do some typical training exercises. I know how to use a gun and basic hand to hand combat,” she held the screwdriver out and Bucky replaced it with a wrench.

“You tased Thor?” Steve sputtered from his seat five feet away and Darcy chuckled.

“Yup! I bested the god of thunder with a tiny lightning machine as he calls it. Now he refers to me as his lightning sister.”

“Ooooh,” Steve drew the word out. “He’s talked about you before but I never put it together.”

“I hope only good things,” she chuckled from under the machine and Steve smiled softly at the swipe of grease on her cheek.

“Like Thor would ever say anything bad about his lightning sister,” Steve scoffed. “He only regales us with glorious tales of the taser, your adventures in New Mexico and in London, and how much you mean to him. It’s actually very sweet.”

“He’s a big softie,” she chuckled but Steve caught the blush on her cheeks.

“Plus I’m technically the Avengers’ manager so I have to have at least the same clearance as y’all,” she shrugged and Bucky cocked his head.

“The Avengers have a manager?”

Darcy nodded, tucking her tools back into their box.

“Who do you think files all of your paperwork and schedules movie night? Y’all need some serious team bonding and it’s my job to make sure you work as a unit. I just do it all from behind the scenes,” she looked up at Steve with a raised eyebrow. “You’re telling me you’ve never seen your paperwork signed off by D. Lewis?” He bit his lip bashfully.

“I just assumed it was being done by someone in PR or in the lower levels. It didn’t occur to me that it needed to be someone with a high security clearance,” but then he frowned and it made Darcy frown questioningly back at him. “How do you juggle being the Avengers’ manager, being Jane’s lab assistant, and getting your degree?”

“A lot of coffee,” Darcy smirked, and when she got closer Steve took note of the dark circles under her eyes, the veins popped next to her irises, her slightly shaking fingers. He frowned. That wasn’t good.

It was three weeks later, and eleven trips to Darcy and Jane’s lab later when Steve actually saw her outside the lab. It was like she lived there. He was heading towards the exit for his morning run at five when he looked into the mess hall and saw a solitary brunette sitting at a table. Darcy.

“What brings you here this early, Darce?” Steve sat down next to her, not taking note of what was in front of her. He was entranced by her beauty, even this early in the morning. This was the first time he’d seen her without her signature red lip, and he was drawn in by her lips’ natural pink hue. The ever-present dark circles were more pronounced, even with her eyes closed, and the fluorescent lights did nothing for her, but he thought she looked radiant.

“We’ve been working for sixty hours. Jane is in the middle of a breakthrough. I need caffeine,” she mumbled before looking over at him. Her bloodshot eyes were startling, but Steve didn’t flinch.

“Coffee then?” He asked, finally looking at what she had in front of her. A large ice cold can of something called ‘Monster,’ and one of the biggest cups of coffee Steve had ever seen. “What’s Monster?” He asked as Darcy pulled a large travel mug out of her tote bag.

“It’s an energy drink. They’re usually fruity and low in calories. They’ll make a normal person bounce off the walls for hours,” she mumbled as she popped the tab on it. She then did something so strange that Steve couldn’t look away. It was like a train wreck.

She kept eye contact with him while she poured the coffee into the travel mug. The prolonged eye contact wasn’t even strange. What was strange was how she then poured the entirety of the energy drink in with the coffee.

“I’m going to die,” she spoke with eyes that had seen some strange things, voice quiet as she stirred the cup with her finger. Steve could only watch in horror as she popped the top of the travel mug on and took a very long swig of her concoction.

“Uh…” He paused as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Come check on me around lunch. I’ll let you know then,” and with that she stood, taking her caffeinated potion with her, and left him alone.

He did go to check on her at noon, but there was a note tacked onto the locked lab door:

Steve and Bucky,

Janey and I have found some strange readings coming from Midtown. We’ll be back later.

-D. Lewis

Steve raised an eyebrow at the scribbled words as Bucky came walking over.

“What’s that?” He asked as he walked up.

“Darcy and Jane are out of office,” Steve relayed and Bucky nodded. “You gonna miss her while she’s gone?” He asked with a smirk and Steve reddened.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled and Bucky let out a laugh.

“You can say you like to follow me all you like, but we both know you’re in the labs to see Darcy,” Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve sputtered and turned around. “Don’t deny it, I know you better than you do,” he called over his shoulder at a frozen Steve. The man with a plan was stuck standing there for another minute before he regained his senses and left for the gym. Sure, Darcy was just… effervescent. She was ethereally beautiful, glowing while she worked. Her lips were always pulled into a red grin. Her hair was shiny under the fluorescent lights. She was so kind to his best friend, even when it would have made sense to be afraid of him. And she had really taken to Steve, she’d gotten used to his presence and engaged with him. But that didn’t mean he was attracted to her.

He shook his head as he made his way to the punching bag. Time to sort out his feelings.

When Steve saw Bucky walking towards the labs the next morning, he joined him.

“You should really seek Darcy out on your own instead of always coming with me,” Bucky stated, looking straight ahead.

“Shut up, punk,” Steve grumbled, but perked up when he saw Jane in the lab. That meant Darcy was back. But the tiny scientist wasn’t working on her usual whiteboard, she was typing slowly at Darcy’s laptop.

“What’s up, Jane?” Bucky sat down in Jane’s usual chair and the woman turned tired eyes on him.

“Typing up my notes.”

“Isn’t that what Darcy usually does?” Steve pondered, looking around for his favorite brunette.

“She’s still in medical,” Jane frowned, the crease between her eyebrows deepening. Steve made concerned eye contact with Bucky.

“Why is she in medical?” Steve asked hesitantly, sort of not wanting to know.

“There was an incident with the equipment. It wasn’t wired well and she got an electric shock from my interdimensional radar sensor,” she muttered distractedly, but Steve was already headed to medical before she could explain what that meant.

Steve became more worried the longer it took him to reach her. A normal electric shock wouldn’t have landed her in medical overnight.

He looked all over medical for her, not finding her. He ran into a doctor coming out of the restricted section.

“Captain Rogers,” the smaller man greeted him, writing notes on a pad.

“Can you help me, Doctor…” He looked at the man’s badge. “McCoy?” At his name, the other man looked over at Steve.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for Miss Darcy Lewis,” he stated, looking nervously at the restricted area.

“You’re lucky, I just came from her room. She’s allowed to have visitors so you can go on in,” and with that, Steve was dismissed. He entered into the sterile hallways of the restricted area and found his way to the first door. Through the window in the door he could see Darcy sleeping peacefully with an IV hooked up to her arm. Well, he had time. He walked in and sat down on the hard plastic chair next to her bed, and he waited.

She awoke half an hour later, looking dazed and confused. “Steve?” She asked, rubbing at her eyes with her free arm and yawning.

“Hey, Darce,” he whispered, not wanting to ruin the calm.

“What’s up?” She blinked over at him and he smiled bashfully.

“I was worried, Jane said you got an electric shock from some… interdimensional thing,” he looked her over. She looked alright. The circles under her eyes were somewhat lessened.

“Yeah, it wasn’t so bad. For a minute I was stuck between realms and I was like a non corporeal ghost, but Jane fixed that pretty quick,” she said the last part quickly when she noticed Steve’s alarmed look. “I’m still here because they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t disappear. I should have gone home last night, but McCoy told me I need sleep and fluids since I’ve been living off of caffeine for two weeks,” she finished and Steve nodded. He was liking Doctor McCoy more and more.

“You shouldn’t replace sleep with coffee,” Steve responded, smirking at her. “It’s like with Voldemort and the unicorn blood. You’d be living a cursed life, a half life,” he smiled when Darcy let out a little chuckle. He liked making her laugh.

“Good to know you showed up for movie night when I had y’all marathon Harry Potter,” she smiled and leaned back with her eyes closed. “God I am so sore and tired. I didn’t realize that I was running on fumes until I had time to sit down and relax.”

Steve frowned, going unnoticed past the veil of Darcy’s eyelids. He wished he could help take care of her, she clearly was so entranced with her work that she found it difficult to do herself.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay. And not a ghost. Even if you’re exhausted,” he replied before leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. When he was panicking on his way over to medical, he came to the abrupt and unnerving realization that he did have feelings for Darcy Lewis. He wasn’t sure what to do about that, but he didn’t want to waste any time.

“Darce?” He asked, and she hummed questioningly, opening her eyes. “I guess I started coming to the lab to hang out more with Buck, but I find myself seeking you out now,” he looked down at his lap, unsure how to continue. “I think you’re real swell,” he smiled up from under his lashes to find Darcy with her mouth slightly parted and a flush high on her cheeks. “And I’d like to take you out on a date after you’re out of medical, if you’d like.”

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts, but her face was suddenly filled with a beaming smile.

“I would love to, Steve,” she whispered, and reached her free hand out to intertwine her fingers with Steve’s. It was nice, they sat there in silence for a while just holding hands.

They didn’t get to go on their date. Because the day Darcy got out of medical, Steve had to go on a mission with the Avengers. He was off the grid for over a week, so she couldn’t even text him. When he got back, bloodied and bruised, but forgoing medical to find his way to the labs to kiss Darcy (nothing like a near-death experience to make you want to make a move on a beautiful dame), there was another note taped to the door.

Steve,

Impossible readings in Manila. Be back in a week or so.

Darcy.

He frowned and ground his teeth together. He would just have to wait to see her.

He only had to wait two and a half weeks before he was notified by the AI that Jane and Darcy were returning via quinjet. Which was alarming in itself because they usually traveled commercial and the quinjet was only for missions and emergencies.

He waited at the door to the landing pad on top of the tower, and emerged when the quinjet touched down and the ramp lowered.

Steve didn’t like being afraid. In the past, he was always scared for himself. Would he die of the influenza? The flu? TB? Would he get beaten to death? Die in the war? He didn’t have to worry about Bucky, the man could take care of himself. But he was scared for Darcy. He didn’t know what was going to come out of the jet.

“We had to pull them out of their lab in Manila,” Tony had crept up behind Steve. “Darcy was mugged at gunpoint and then their lab was ransacked and set on fire. Somebody doesn’t want Jane’s research getting out.” Steve felt a shot of panic erupt in his chest. Robbed at gunpoint?

When the ramp was fully lowered, Jane walked down next to Darcy and Steve scanned the two women from head to toe. Jane looked normal, if a little rumpled and grumpy. Steve would be too if his work went up in flames. He gave Darcy a once-over. Her left arm was in a sling, but otherwise she looked just fine. What was the sling about?

“Steve!” Darcy called and smiled brightly, hurrying over to stand in front of him. “I’m sorry I missed your return,” she panted one she’d arrived in front of him. Tony must have left because she didn’t address the other man.

“It’s alright, Darcy,” Steve looked at her arm again. “What happened there?”

“This guy was trying to rob me but I had sensitive information on me so I tased him, but he shot me first. Hence the sling,” she cocked her head.

“You were shot, and then had the mental wherewithal to incapacitate him?” Steve raised his eyebrows, impressed. He was trying not to be stuck on the part where Darcy was shot and could have died.

“I’m more than meets the eye, Steve Rogers,” she held out her right hand and he took it. “Now, where are we going on this date? It’s all I’ve been thinking about since that day in medical.”

Steve smiled softly and stopped walking, using her hand to tug her in front of him.

“I almost died on my mission,” he stated matter-of-factly, and Darcy’s eyes widened. “And you got shot. Which is pretty close to dying,” he added with raised eyebrows. “I would be a total schmuck if I didn’t kiss you right now after two near-death experiences,” he finished and Darcy’s cheeks heated up.

“I think you’re right,” she smirked and in a moment Steve’s lips were pressing against hers, his hands gently placed on her waist. Hen didn’t want to disturb her bad arm. The kiss was sweet and soft, though when Darcy licked across the seam of his lips, he deepened it. It was everything he’d ever thought it would be, and when they parted, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed, Darcy let out a little huff of a laugh.

“That was nice,” she whispered. “Now you really have to take me on a date. I need more reasons to kiss you.”

“You don’t need a reason. You can kiss me whenever,” he responded and Darcy grinned.

“Good answer, soldier,” she replied and kissed him again.

#shieldshock #darcy x steve #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 author #darcy lewis #steve rogers #captain america x darcy lewis #steve rogers x darcy lewis #bucky barnes #shieldshock!

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twilightprince101 · 3 years

Text

Mafia!Wiggle AU

So yeah, I came up with the idea of Wiggle being a mob boss a few days ago and I succumbed to the brain rot. Wrote an entire fic for this idea, introducing her and what she's like.

I got flustered myself writing the tall crime lady. Enjoy!

Mafia Boss Wiggle

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF’A ME YOU MEATHEADS!!” A lanky, roughed up grumpus struggles in the beefy arms of two well-dressed goons. They grip his arms tight with their paws, dragging his body along behind it like an afterthought. “You have any idea what my family will do when-?!”

“Shut your trap already,” the purple goon groaned. They adjust their ornate mask, brushing the sunset and emerald colored feathers out of their eyes. “Honestly, you’re lucky we caught you before openin’ hours, else we’d have to knock your teeth in to keep you from disturbin’ the patrons.”

“Don’t act like yer better than me!” The red grump kicks over a velvet chair from a nearby table as they pass. It clatters against the polished wood floor, echoing through the well-lit nightclub. A bartender--wearing a similar feathered and jeweled mask to the goons--gets up from polishing glasses to set it right. “Don’t you know who I am?! I’m from the Turnpipe family!! My boys’ll storm this place once they hear what you’se done to me! They’ll roast you all over open flames until every last strand of your fur is singed to the flesh!! You’ll be nothing but a naked mole rat for the rest of your lives!!!”

“Heya Cold-Brew, how was your kid’s party last night?” The blue goon holding Turnpipe’s other paw waves to the bartender as he sets the chair upright.

“Went okay. Park got rained out midway through the picnic, so we went to Slaker’s for ‘shakes.”

“Ah, shame. Need any help after I’m done here?” He gestures to their victim as if it were a sack of potatos. The red grump wiggles and yells while scuffing the floor they’re dragged across.

“Nah, should be good here, thanks ‘Stein. Fifteen until the doors open.” Cold-Brew waves back to the goons as he returns to his station, both wave back and smile.

“I SAID LET ME GO YOU INVERTEBRATES!!!!”

“Ugh, honestly why can’t you all say anything original?” The purple grump shakes their head. “Always just ‘let me go,’ ‘I’m with this family,’ ‘You’ll pay for this,’ if you’re gonna keep yappin’ at least say something interesting.”

“I’LL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!!!”

“Hehey, he tells jokes!”

The nightclub’s attendants laugh together under the neon spotlights as the intruder’s yells fall on uncaring ears. Past the bar lined with high class alcohol and the grand stage lined with spotlights and the band pit, the three grumps make their way to a door labeled “BACKSTAGE: EMPLOYEE’S ONLY.” With a quick knock and faint response from the other side, the two gently push open the door and leave the main area behind.

“Heya boss,” the purple goon speaks, his voice much more formal. “Found this one tryin’ to bash the front lock open with a brick. Got him before any major damage was done, don’t worry.”

Both grumps lift the intruder up by the shoulders, leaving his legs kicking in the air. It takes the Turnpipe a moment to adjust to the dimmer lighting and he coughs from the lingering cigarette smoke in the air.

“Thank ya’ darlings,” a sultry voice speaks, facing away from the three. The grump thinks that the boss is some shade of pink, but poking above the large mass of pink fluff a sort of golden orange pokes out. Despite being held in the air, the orange grumpus sitting at the table in front of them reaches just below the Turnpipe’s height. “Wouldn’t want him making a mess before our loyal customers come in.”

“Are you these goons’ boss?!” The Turnpipe screams, pointing at the grumpus. “You fucked up now! When the Turnpipes hear of this-”

“They’ll tear us limb from limb, yes hun I know.” The boss speaks calmly, comfortably while applying purple eyeliner via pocket mirror. “I could hear you all the way backstage, making me consider sound proofing.”

The red grumpus blinks. Despite the goons disregarding his threats earlier, for some reason his mind expected her to take him seriously. He takes a moment to look around the employee’s area, finding various other grumps of size and stature. Some more fancily-dressed grumps put on makeup and practice vocal exercises in large vanity mirrors, while toned tux-wearing grumps check their suits before walking out to the main club area. All of them are wearing the same mask and haven’t given him so much as a glance.

“Now tell me darling,” the boss angles the pocket mirror to address her intruder. Her ice blue iris gives off a sharp, cold gaze that clashes with the warm and comforting atmosphere before. “Why were you trying to break into our lovely establishment? Just couldn’t wait to have some fun, wanted to steal some of our booze perhaps?”

“Wh-no I’m, I don’t care about your stupid club!!” The Turnpipe yells, finding his fury again. “One’a your meatheads shook down my brother! They were on my family’s turf, and I don’t take these insults lyin’ down!”

“I can see that. So you’d rather take it in the air instead?”

Some of the other staff members chuckle as they check themselves for the third time over.

“Du-buh?!” Did you even hear what I said?!” The turnpipe explodes, his enemy’s eyes narrowing in the mirror. “YOUR goons-”

“I heard you clearly.”

The CLICK of the pocket mirror cuts through the smoky air. She places it on the table alongside the bills, fan letters and knives and begins spinning her chair around. It swivels as she sweeps her long legs along with the momentum, poking out of her dark emerald dress. The dark emerald dress’s frills flutter from the sudden movement, draping the boss from her knees to the straps on her shoulders, hidden under her flowing pink mane. With a CLACK of her deep purple heels on stone she sets her crossed legs down and stops the chair in place. Her previous playful gaze is now replaced with one of annoyance, both her icy and greyed eyes narrowed in contempt.

With her clean scar sweeping across her right eye, the boss of the Gilded Dahlias, Wiggle Wigglebottom, sits up fully and rests a paw on her chin while gazing down at her prey.

“I’m just curious as to how you thought you could barge in here and get revenge against my boys, my gang, even me, all by yourself. You certainly don’t have the physique or firepower to do the job, so my first guess is that you’re either full of yourself, or just plain dumb.”

The performers all “ooooooooh~” between them, like a class of 8th graders hearing their fellow classmate called up to the principal’s office.

“I mean-well, I…” The red grumpus searches the floor for the right words, then balls his fists and puffs out his chest. “I’d assume YOU would pay us with respect! Us Turnpipe’s been around longer than you newbies have, so we outrank you!”

“It’s stupidity folks!!” Wiggle cheers and flicks up a paw to announce the results. A few goons groan and dig into their jacket pockets, handing their smiling associates a fat wad of bills. Turnpipe’s hot air dissipates and he deflates once more.

“Damn, third in a row… I’ll treat you to a drink later Wiggle.” A brown-furred performer in a glittery red dress crosses her arms.

“Maybe a milkshake,” The boss peeks over her shoulder, “I overheard Brew talking about Slakers and my sweet tooth’s been acting up lately! Them icy sweets are ‘Callin my naaaame~’.” She sings in a wide vocal range with complete ease, giving her paw a flourish and leaning back as she hums.

“You… You know, just because you’re new it doesn’t mean you’re better than us! Don’t act like you’re a hotshot just because you did a few successful heists!”

“A few? Oohohoho!!” Wiggle peers back, sitting up straight once again. “Goodness darlin’, you are not helping your case right now. Tell me, how many bank heists has your little family done in the past year?”

“Uh… twenty five?”

A tuxed grumpus snorts as he walks out.

“Oh darling…” Wiggle places a palm against her cheek with a pitiful smile. “That’s not even cute, it’s just... sad.”

“Yeah?! Well, I’d like to see you-”

“Fifty three.” Wiggle interrupts. “In the past three months.”

“...wha-”

“Around… how much was it Abra?” Wiggle calls behind her.

“Passed the million mark just last week!” A green grumpus, wearing more casual clothing, peeks out from around a corner leading to an employee hallway.

“Got so much excess profits that even after giving everyone a bonus, I got to turn the rest to my own personal bed!” She waves a paw in the air. “Certainly wasn’t the comfiest experience, but I at least got to check it off my bucket list!”

“I… I don’t…” The Turnpipe’s words do their best to try and search for any rage or anger to grasp onto, but any attempt to feel above her hasn’t worked, not helped by the fact he’s still being held up by the shoulders like a small child. After around ten seconds of stammering, Wiggle sighs and shakes her head.

“You don’t gotta try and act tough anymore darlin’, I think I get what you’re about now…” The sunset grumpus uncrosses her legs and lets her other heel clack on the floor. The Turnpipe’s gaze goes from eye level to slowly upwards, and upwards, and upwards; the boss’s body obscuring the light from one of the vanities. She wraps one of her paws around the grip of a knife lodged into the table and yanks it out. Her prey freezes up in the arms of her trap.

“You didn’t come here so you could avenge your brother or any sappy nonsense like that.” Wiggle circles around the Turnpipe, her heels echoing their clicks with each step while fiddling with the knife in her paws. “You came here so you could try and make yourself feel big and stwong, flaunting your family name as if it were a gun in of itself.”

“I…” Clack. Clack. Clack. It becomes hard to think as each step feels like a hammer and chisel against his brain. Wiggle looks the red grump up and down, drawing invisible lines up and down his torso.

“Since you came in you’ve been talking about your little gang as if you ran it. ‘My boys,’ ‘My gang,’ ‘My my my my my.’ But all that time, being caught up in your own head? It just made your skull more dense. All you are is just some lowly lackey that probably joined, say…” She plants an elbow on the Turnpipe’s head, checking her makeup one last time in the reflection of her knife. “A month ago? Maybe less?”

The frog in her armrest’s throat nearly leaps out of his mouth. His head shrinking down is the only confirmation Wiggle needs.

“You’ve been so caught up in that little bubble of yours, thinking you’re the hottest grump on the block, just because you’re part of a gang. Think just because you have a name to flaunt around and access to guns it makes you powerful. But I’m gonna let you in on a secret little man.” The Turnpipe’s body clenches as Wiggle stands back up and Clacks her way back to his front, eyeing the knife she paws in her hands as intensely as possible.

“Having a name to flaunt around doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.

“Having guns and knives to hold against people’s throats doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.

“Having enough money to buy out all of Grump Vegas doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.’

“But you know what does?”

Wiggle towers above the Turnpipe, patting her razor-sharp knife in her paw. All different rays of light are obscured by her roaring mane, leaving the grump to cower in the arms of her two goons. She Clacks forward, and her goons take a step back. Not out of fear or trepidation though; a quick glance to both of their faces shows the same devilish smile that their boss wears. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Every single step is like a jolt of ice to his heart, dragging every last little step for an eternity as his entire being trembles in the arms of the two goons. Just the slight bump of the wall on his back knocks out every bit of air in his lungs and he fights to just inhale as his natural predator CLACKS just inches away from him, casting a toothy, ecstatic smile. Her single, silver iris seems to glow in the limited light.

Wiggle grips the knife in a reverse grip in her left hand and begins to raise it. The grumpus tries to close his eyes and look away but she grabs his chin with her other paw and forces his gaze back to her. His attempts to shake his head in a desperate plea are pointless, her paw digging into his fur and keeping him from moving even a centimeter out of place. The glinted metal shines as it finally reaches the zenith of its arc, hungry to tear through red grumpus fur. With nothing left to do all the Turnpipe can do is let tears stream down his face.

With the speed of a bullet and barely giving the Turnpipe a moment to flinch, Wiggle swings down the dagger. Her victim closes his eyes and blurts out a whimper and-

THUNK!!!

…

He’s not dead. His eyes are still fuzed shut but he’s still not dead, he can hear the sounds of the backstage area around him. The Turnpipe forces an eye open to peek at the knife and his skeleton nearly leaps out and books it at the sight. The knife is only a hair’s length away from his cheek embedded into the wood beam he’s pressed against. A sting in his cheek and the running of a warm liquid helps him fill in the gap of what happened. But just a little bit away, the Turnpipe finds something else that makes his body completely shut down

It’s Wigglebottom’s face, just as close to his as the knife.

Her icy and greyed eyes peer into the Turnpipe’s irises, flickering around while high on adrenaline and terror. Her gaze looks past his false-bravado exterior and reaches further, deeper inside him into a dark pit he had tried so desperately to hide. A black, slimy, jittering piece of disgust comes out. Letting the grip on his chin go she traces his chin and speaks in a tone fitting of her now-sultry gaze. Wiggle leans in close, so close that the Turnpipe can smell her rich floral perfume, and whispers into his ear.

“Fear~”

“...”

The Turnpipe’s mind has gone blank. Despite the pounding jackhammer in his chest, the final whisper and breath of hot air from the Gilded Dahlia boss erases his mind, leaving him a whimpering and stuttering mess. A few of the remaining employees from backstage snicker and point at her latest victim, though he isn’t able to process the fact that he’s being mocked. Seeing that the usual routine has worked yet again, Wiggle leaves the knife implanted in the wall and pulls back with a satisfied smile.

“Boys,” she snaps a finger in the air, her tone returning to the playful nature it was before, “drop our newest employee. He won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, should be good to leave him back here for the day.”

Both goons do as they’re told without question, letting the grumpus slump to the floor, his knees having completely given out. He continues to stare at the ground and shake his head, crying as he trembles from the terror just inflicted.

“So what’re you gonna make this one boss?” The purple grumpus asks with a playful smile. “Waiter? Bartender?”

“Nah.” She shrugs with little effort. “He doesn’t really have the looks for either of those. Probably’ll make him our new janitor, been needing a new one after our last one squealed. Feel free to give him the old guy’s uniform, I feel it should fit pretty well.”

The purple goon nods and takes out a sketchpad, writing “Find old janitor’s uniform” at the bottom of the list as they walk past and out towards the main area.

“Alright everyone, hopefully this little show of mine was able to help you get fired up! We got five minutes ‘till the doors open, get those finishing touches done!” The boss claps her hands in the air to her employees, resuming business as usual. “If we’re able to double our profits today I’ll treat everyone to Slakers at the end of our shift tonight! Let’s make tonight a good one darlin’s!”

The warm and familiar chatter of the backstage area continues once more. As every last well-dressed employee strolls out to prepare for the afternoon they pass by their new coworker, neither giving the other a glance. As the front door opens and the excited clamoring of a new audience begins to fill the club, Wiggle peers down at her latest victim, slumped up the hole-ridden wood post on his back. She smirks and gives a content sigh.

“Maybe one day you’ll all surprise me… but until then, I suppose this is just as fun~”

Wiggle ruffles the head of the former Turnpipe like an affectionate puppy, and then walks back to her main office, her heels Clacking and echoing throughout backstage and the red grumpus’s empty mind.

#Bugsnax #wiggle wigglebottom #bugsnax wiggle #young horses #bugsnax AU #my writing #my writings #twi talks #Mafia!Wiggle #Mafia!Wiggle AU #((I... have a thing for tall and intimidating crime lady's #So yeah #*voice crack* eNJoY!!!))

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bnha-free-writing · 4 years

Text

Uncertain

Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this fluff piece! Special thanks to @shoutodoki and @burnedbyshoto for allowing me to tag them in this piece! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy your works!

Pairing: Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Fluff ahead! (Some angst too...)

Word Count: 5.3k

Rated: E for Everyone (Like Shouto's hands)

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

Key:

(Y/N) - Reader’s name

(L/N) - Reader’s last name

(s/t) - Skin tone

(h/l) - Hair length

(h/t) - Hair texture/type

(h/c) - Hair color

(e/c) - Eye color

(Y/H/N) - Reader’s Hero Name

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

When Shoto Todoroki first began his education at U.A., he never thought that he would make any friends. His goal had been simply to become the best hero. There was absolutely no plan of making friends. And he definitely wasn’t looking to find love.

But apparently, fate had other things in mind. In his three years at U.A., he met so many people, made some close friends, but none closer than (Y/N) (L/N). The girl that kept him anchored to the ground when things got rough. When his father was involved in a tough battle on TV, (Y/N) had held him in a reassuring hug until the fight ended. When training led to injury, she was the first to help him to Recovery Girl.

It hadn’t been an immediate friendship. She had started out their first year by making friends with Ochako Uraraka and Tsuyu Asui. He was so wrapped up in his goals that it took over a week before he finally noticed her. But then, one day in class, he got a paper cut. He had winced and out of the corner of his hetero-chromatic eyes, he watched as a bandage was slid onto the edge of his desk. He looked over at the (h/c) girl in confusion. She had been sitting right beside him and all she did was offer a soft smile before returning to taking notes.

After that, she would occasionally sit across from him at lunch. He was sitting alone at the time, curious as to why she would abandon her friends twice a week to start up small talk with him. But she was persistent and eventually, he had gotten used to her presence.

“Why are you here,” he had finally asked aloud.

“I want to be a hero, silly,” she had replied, confusion clear on her features.

“No, I mean why are you sitting here with me.”

“You looked lonely and I think you need a friend. It’s that simple,” she beamed.

After that, their lunch for that day fell into silence. He didn’t understand.

At the Sports Festival, she put up a hell of a fight. Her quirk might not have been the strongest, but she fought hard to earn her place. With that, she had earned his respect.

After that, their conversations became more frequent. Then, it was him joining her at Uraraka and Midoriya’s table. No longer was she abandoning her friend group, because slowly but surely he became a part of it.

By second year, there were frequent movie nights, the girl showing him her favorite movies, a kind of enjoyment his father never would have allowed. They would sit on the edge of her bed sharing laughter and (though he would never admit it) occasional tears. She introduced him to kinds of joy that he never thought possible.

Some days, it was enough to just sit on opposite sides of the room in comfortable silence. She would be curled up on her bean bag chair, sketching, while he would sit on her bed, working his way through her personal library. Other days it was laughter and talking as she taught him how to cook. She would joke that it was ironic because, despite having a fire quirk, he was a bit clueless in the kitchen.

She was a relaxing figure in his life, one of the kindest people he had ever met. Despite the fact that he could be rather cold and socially oblivious, she understood him. She was his best friend. But about halfway through their third year at U.A., something changed. It was a slow change, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad one.

It started with a moment, just a moment, where he saw her sitting at the foot of the stairs outside of Heights Alliance, waiting for him to come back from shopping for the supplies for the dorm. She was reading a book, the sun shining on her (s/t) skin, the wind blowing through her (h/l), (h/t) (h/c) locks, her soft, (e/c) orbs focused on the page in front of her. He found himself stopping, admiring the way she bit her bottom lip and her eyebrows knitted together as she focused. For that one moment, he found his mind going blank.

The only thought his mind could process was, ‘She’s beautiful.’

And as suddenly as it started, it drifted away the second she noticed his arrival and called his name.

After that, it was downhill from there. When she would grab his wrist to drag him to lunch like she did every day, his heart would race and his cheeks would warm. She was suddenly in his dreams, her radiant smile filling his thoughts. He found himself getting lost in thought every time their eyes would meet.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wrap his head around why he felt this way. They had been friends long enough that he couldn’t think of why he was feeling this way. He tried to Google these feelings, but heart racing and sweaty palms only brought up the results of ‘cancer.’

He was pretty sure that he was not dying, yet he was still unsure of what was wrong. For weeks, these feelings had been taunting him, her smile invading his thoughts, his dreams, everything. At one point, he had a dream about her that made his quirk activate in his sleep. He wound up waking up in the middle of the night to the sprinklers going off, aggravating his classmates. While the rest were angry, she had been hell-bent on ensuring that he was okay.

It wasn’t until they were watching a movie with the rest of the class (even Bakugo) in the common area that he finally got a clue. She was squished between himself and Bakugo, when about halfway through the movie he felt a sudden weight on his left shoulder. He looked down to see her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing even as she slept peacefully. He smiled softly, resting his own head against hers.

“Awww,” he heard the soft coo of Uraraka, followed by soft whispers.

He attempted to drown out their voices when he heard Ashido whisper, “They’re so cute together. When are Todoroki and (L/N) gonna finally admit that they’re in loooove?”

His hetero-chromatic eyes shot open as Ashido’s words processed in his brain. The pinkette had never been very good at being quiet, but for once he was grateful.

He thought, ‘Is that what this is?’ as his heart beat became nearly deafening in his ears.

Shortly after the movie finished, Todoroki lifted (Y/N) into his arms, taking her to her dorm room. Her eyes fluttered as she slept peacefully in his arms. Once he got her to her dorm, he laid her on the bed, carefully covering her with a blanket. It took all of his self control to leave, rather than holding her in his arms through the night.

The next day was no better. Now that he knew what this feeling was, her very existence made him flustered, though he hid it quite well. He was constantly fighting to keep his eyes off of her.

The more time that went by, the more Todoroki was terrified that it would get to the point that he would miss out on any chance he had with her. As a third year student, she had plenty of exposure as a hero in training. She already had several fan sites, seeing as she worked under the Pro Hero, Edgeshot. He wasn’t oblivious to her popularity and unlike himself, she was very good with her fans.

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

It was a rare event to have Endeavor and Edgeshot’s agencies team up, yet Todoroki found himself fighting back to back with (Y/N) against a large group of thugs. Their mentors had delegated the two of them to the low level goons while the two of them raced ahead to take on the main boss, Terminator. While their opponents’ fighting was erratic, the two of them fought nearly completely synchronized. Within minutes, they were down to a few opponents.

Once they were done with the low level thugs, the two of them were quick to join their mentors against the big boss. The man had a powerful quirk, and had four higher ranking members of his crew to play guard. It wasn’t an easy fight, but the second (Y/N) had taken down two of the higher ranking members, the boss had slightly nodded his head in her direction.

Nobody saw it coming, as a fifth underling had been hiding in the rafters, awaiting for when she was signaled for. As (Y/N) turned to help Todoroki, the fifth underling dropped down behind her, undetected until she slammed (Y/N) into a wall, knocking her unconscious as her head smacked against the scarlet brick wall.

The vibrations of the impact drew the attention of Todoroki and the two Pro Heroes. Todoroki’s hetero-chromatic orbs widened, and before either of his opponents could register what was going on, he had them frozen solid from the neck down.

He immediately turned his focus solely upon the woman that had caused (Y/N)’s injury. The woman had a quirk that allowed her to be as strong as five men, and she was fast on her own. The woman charged at Todoroki, but he was quick to use his ice to slip away, simultaneously knocking the woman off balance. As she slipped around on the ice, struggling to regain her footing, he used this time to his advantage, freezing her much like he had done with her cohorts.

As soon as he was done with her, he turned his attention to Endeavor and Edgeshot, who were restraining the boss.

“Shoto! Go check on (Y/H/N),” Edgeshot shouted.

Todoroki quickly moved to (Y/N)’s side, her body still as he checked her pulse. It was faint and he knew he couldn’t move her without the possibility of causing more damage. Blood was dripping from the back of her head, her body looked paler, and all he could do was stare in shock.

He could barely process a thing as the paramedics arrived, moving her onto a gurney. Edgeshot rode along in the ambulance while Todoroki and Endeavor stayed behind and answered questions for the police.

Once they were cleared, Todoroki made his way to the hospital, immediately finding himself in the waiting room.

“She’s in surgery. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Edgeshot promised.

“Thank you, sir.”

The two of them sat for hours, their eyes completely trained on the operating room door. There were no words between them. Simply (Y/N)’s mentor and best friend, each sitting with a heavy feeling in the air between them.

With each passing hour without word on her condition, Todoroki steadily grew more anxious. Eventually, he even found himself pacing and that’s when Edgeshot stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Shoto, she is going to be alright. She’s a tough kid. I know she’s your friend. You’re all she talks about when we get the chance to talk. You guys are close. You of all people should know that she’s tougher than this. She’ll get through it, kid.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know what I can do.”

“You can’t change it. All you can do is be there for her.”

It was then that the doctor walked up to them, pulling Edgeshot aside. Once he returned to Todoroki’s side, he was quick to fill Todoroki in.

“So, there was mild head injury, which is what knocked her unconscious. They put her in surgery because one of her ribs broke and they needed to set it properly before they could call in Recovery Girl to speed up the healing process. However she wasn’t able to heal her completely. She’s going to stay here under observation for the rest of the week.”

“When can we see her,” Todoroki asked.

“She’s still asleep. Between the surgery and Recovery Girl’s treatment, she’s exhausted. They said one of us could sit with her, so long as we don’t disturb her rest. I’ll let you sit with her first.”

Todoroki simply nodded before heading over to the nurse so he could be escorted to her room. Once he arrived at her room, he quietly pulled up a chair to her bedside.

Her eyelids fluttered as she slept and he found himself letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He laid his head on the edge of her bed, allowing himself to truly relax for the first time in hours. His eyelids grew heavy as he drifted off to sleep, having found solace by her side.

Todoroki woke to the morning sunlight peeking through the window. His eyes opened and he found himself looking up at (Y/N)’s resting face. Her eyelids fluttered as she slept, still in the same state she had been when he had drifted off.

Why the doctors hadn’t woken him was beyond him, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. It almost felt wrong to be sitting there, watching her sleep. Yet that was the least of his concerns. He wondered if she had woken yet at any point.

“You’re awake,” he heard from a voice behind him. He turned to see Edgeshot leaning against the door frame. “She hasn’t woken up yet. But I told them to let you stay.”

“Have the doctors said anything?”

“Apparently her heart monitor has been steady, no complications.”

“That’s good,” Todoroki replied, letting out a sigh of relief.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments before a light groan broke through the air.

“(Y/N),” Todoroki called softly, hoping to hear her sweet voice reply.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” (Y/N)’s voice croaks out.

The second he heard her voice, Todoroki whipped around, his hetero-chromatic orbs meeting her (e/c) ones.

He had never thought he would be that happy to hear someone’s voice, yet there he was. To his ears, her voice was that of an angel calling him to heaven. There was nothing short of amazement in his eyes as he looked at her as though her body was made of gold and her (e/c) orbs were made of the rarest gems. This woman was his everything.

His thoughts were broken as her scratchy voice pierced the air once more. “Sh-Shoto… Is there any way I could get a glass of water?”

“Of course, give me just a moment,” he replied before turning to the sink in her room and quickly pouring her a glass, his hands shaking.

“Good to see you’re awake, kid. I’ll let Todoroki here talk you through what happened. I’ll call your parents to let them know you’re awake,” Edgeshot replied before leaving the room.

Todoroki watched as (Y/N) carefully drank her water and he waited for her to finish drinking before he began to speak. “So what’s the last thing you remember?”

Her voice was soft as she replied, “I remember we were going into the main compound building and we got caught up fighting some higher level goons. I beat the two I was dealing with and then… I turned to help you. But I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Well, that’s good. You aren’t missing much time. Basically, there was another high level goon up in the rafters. She'd been hiding there, waiting for a signal. Detectives figured out that she was Terminator’s right hand. He must have given her a signal because she jumped down and tossed you into a wall… Apparently you were knocked unconscious on impact.”

“Your injuries weren’t too bad. Recovery Girl came in and healed you after they did surgery to set your broken rib. They just want to keep you under observation until Friday night to make sure that you are okay.”

(Y/N) simply nodded before she spoke, “Are you okay, Shoto?”

“You’re the one in a hospital bed and you’re asking me if I’m okay,” Todoroki replied, confusion clear on his features.

“Todoroki… You look like you haven’t slept.”

He sat down in the chair beside her bed, looking down at his hands as a blush grew on his cheeks. “I… I actually slept right here. I never left here last night.”

Todoroki glanced up as he felt a light pressure applied to his head. (Y/N) had softly placed her hand on his head, lightly ruffling his hair. Their eyes met for only a second before she pulled her hand away and they both darted their eyes to their laps.

“Hey guys, I figured you’d be hungry, so I brought some breakfast… And… Why do you two look like tomatoes,” Edgeshot spoke as he entered the room once more.

Neither of the teens dared to speak a word as the Pro Hero rolled his eyes.

Todoroki thought that spending the week without (Y/N) being in class would be difficult. But if anything, her absence made concentrating easier. He was writing down notes non-stop, making sure to cover every lesson in as much detail as possible, even comparing notes with Midoriya and Yaoyorozu during lunch to ensure that he hadn’t missed anything.

“Why do you need to take such detailed notes all of a sudden,” Midoriya asked that Monday after school.

His friends all looked at him expectantly as he admitted, “I don’t want (Y/N) to fall behind. So I’m going back to the hospital after school to help her with what she’s missing during class.”

“Awwww, that’s really sweet,” Uraraka cooed. “Can I ask you something, Todoroki?”

“Sure.”

“Todoroki, do you… Do you like (Y/N)? Whatever your answer, it’ll stay between the three of us. I just had to ask seeing as this is the only time I can really ask you without risking her popping up.”

Todoroki looked at Midoriya and Uraraka for a single moment, taking a deep breath before shakily replying, “I… I guess.”

“Todoroki, it’s nothing to be ashamed of! She makes you happy!”

“You should tell her, Todoroki,” Midoriya advises.

“Yes,” Uraraka cheers.

“Well, right now, I have to leave to get these notes to her,” he spoke as he looked at his watch. “I don’t want to miss the train.”

“Bye Todoroki,” Uraraka and Midoriya chorus.

He found himself practically racing to the hospital. When he finally got there, he was surprised to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out the window.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Todoroki spoke slowly, hoping to not startle her.

She turned around slowly, a grin on her face as she spoke, “Shoto! You came! I’m glad. I was worried you wouldn’t have time.”

Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, he knew if it meant seeing her, he would have blown off any assignment. “I told you I’d be here,” he retorted, as he sat down beside her.

“I know,” she replied as she wrapped her arms around him.

As soon as she pulled away from the hug, he pulled out the notes he had worked so hard on all day.

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

After a particularly long training session on Friday afternoon, the only thing Todoroki wanted was a shower. He wasn’t to go visit (Y/N) that day because she was to be released and picked up by Edgeshot that evening. So he had spent his few free hours after school training hard with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Iida.

But when the doors to Heights Alliance opened up, his eyes immediately fell on a figure with (h/c) locks surrounded by her friends. She was dressed in her favorite sweatpants and an All Might T-shirt, looking as stunning as ever. Her (e/c) eyes shined with joy as Uraraka filled her in on what she’s missed throughout the week.

“I missed being here so much,” (Y/N confessed, a pout on her lips.

“Ribbit. We missed you too,” Asui croaked. “Hey, it’s Todoroki.”

(Y/N) looked up from her group of friends and gave him a beaming grin before greeting, “Hey Shoto! Surprise! I got out a couple of hours early! I told Edgeshot if I didn’t get out soon, I’d lose it! So he talked it over with the doctor and they let me out like an hour before classes let out!”

Todoroki couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her antics.

“Hey, I got tickets for a movie and I got permission for eight of us to go,” Yaoyorozu offered as she approached, a skip in her step.

“That’s great,” Todoroki commented.

“So, I was thinking Todoroki, (Y/N), Uraraka, Midoriya, Tsu, Iida, Kyoka, and myself. We can go tomorrow night, assuming you’re all willing to go! Iida, Midoriya, and Kyoka have already agreed, so...”

“I’ll definitely go,” Uraraka chimed.

“I’d love to! Thanks, Momo,” (Y/N) added, nodding exuberantly.

“Sounds like fun,” Tsu croaks, a smile on her features.

Todoroki found the rest of them looking at him expectantly, waiting for his response. He finally nodded, a small smile on his features.

The next night came quickly and he found himself in awe as Uraraka practically pushed a nearly shy (Y/N) out of the elevator. Her soft, (h/c) locks were pinned back out of her face, her big (e/c) eyes were framed with light makeup and her lips lightly glossed. Her frame was covered by a plain, light blue sundress, a pair of simple flats on her feet.

Uraraka led (Y/N) to his side, practically skipping as she cheered out, “Todoroki! (Y/N) looks super cute, right?”

Todoroki’s eyes widened, not expecting the sudden question. He had literally just been stuck on thinking about how beautiful she looked, yet when it comes down to vocalizing, he finds himself at a loss.

“Ochako, leave him alone,” (Y/N) whispers, her eyes glued to her shoes.

Todoroki felt his heart drop at the sight of the crestfallen expression on her face. He felt as though he was choking on his words, despite a part of him wanting to scream from the rooftops, announcing her beauty to the world. Yet there he stood, his mouth opening and closing in a fish-like fashion, feeling like a fool.

Finally after what felt like hours, he managed to mutter out, “You… You look cute, (Y/N).”

Her head shot up, her (e/c) orbs wide with surprise, a flush on her cheeks, and a small smile on her face.

Finally, Iida comes speeding in, “The movie starts in twenty-five minutes! We should leave immediately to ensure that we are not tardy! It would be unbecoming of esteemed U.A. students to be late!”

Soon enough, the group arrived at the theater, each of them having time to grab their drinks and popcorn. Yaoyorozu was the first to be seated, followed by Jiro, Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Tsu, (Y/N), and finally Todoroki at the end.

The title screen seemed innocent enough until the blood started dripping from the words on the screen. It was a horror movie and with every jump-scare, Todoroki watched as (Y/N) jumped and shook more and more. Her hands were tightly clutching the sides of the seat, the white of her knuckles showing through.

Finally, as tears started to prick at her eyes, Todoroki couldn’t watch her like that anymore. He carefully placed one of his hands on her own, immediately gaining her attention as she jerked her head to face him. In that moment, her eyes widened and she threw herself into his arms, crying. At first he was surprised, but as soon as she clutched his shirt, he pulled her into his lap, lightly stroking her (h/c) locks as she shook in his arms. He rested his head atop her own and the hand that wasn’t stroking her hair began to rub slow, calming circles on her back until she fell asleep in his arms.

Once the movie was over, he found himself stirring (Y/N) from her sleep. As he led her sleepy form out of the theater, his arm sling around her protectively, she stayed groggily clung to his shirt. Even on the loud, crowded subway, she didn’t move out from under his arm.

Once the group made their way to the dorms, they were met by the few members of their class that were still awake. Shoto looked down at her, to see her eyes still half open.

Mina was the first to address the pair, “Awww she looks so tired!”

“I forgot to tell everyone that it was a horror movie. (Y/N) didn’t take it well,” Yaoyorozu admitted, nervously twiddling her thumbs. Turning to (Y/N) she pleads, “I really hope you’re not upset with me.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep,” (Y/N) sleepily mumbles, before attempting to take a step on her own. When the girl practically fell over, Todoroki was quick to catch her and resume their previous stance.

“I’m going to take her up,” he muttered, carefully leading her towards the elevator.

The rest of their class bode them good night as the two disappeared into the elevator, the (h/c) girl still nuzzled into Todoroki’s side.

“Sh-Shoto,” her voice stuttered out, so faintly that he almost missed it.

Luckily he hadn’t, because the second he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. She had the cutest expression on her face, her lips slightly parted, her tired eyes looking up at him through her lashes, and a faint pink to her cheeks.

He didn’t know what to expect as she hesitantly raised her hand to cup his face. He was too shocked to move, allowing her to lightly run her thumb over his cheek, just below his scar. Her other hand was still clutched to the back of his shirt, her cheeks darkening as their eyes refused to break contact.

She was too close. He could smell her skin, he could see flecks in her (e/c) orbs, he could practically count her eyelashes. His heart was pounding in his ears, his body unable to move in fear of losing control of himself.

She was exhausted. He shouldn’t be letting this happen, he thought. But a small, selfish part of him wanted to stay like this forever. Her body pressed against him, their eyes locked on one another, and the soft touch of her hand on his face.

She was the first to break eye contact, a sad smile taking its place on her features as the elevator opened.

His eyes widened as she removed her hand from his face and they walked to her room in silence, as though nothing had happened. She unlocked the door and he walked her to her bed.

It was then that he got a good look at her face. The moonlight shone through her window, highlighting the silent tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying,” he whispered.

“I shouldn’t have done that… In the elevator… I’m sorry, Shoto,” she spoke softly, her sentence broken up by soft sobs. “I don’t want you to hate me… I… I just…”

Her voice broke into nothing but soft sobs.

He took a seat on the edge of her bed, sitting beside her as he pulled her into his arms.

“I… I could never hate you,” he whispered.

For the second time that night, he held her as she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

He didn’t know what to do. He had never been good at expressing his emotions, but, damn, this was a new low for him. He didn’t know why she was sorry for what was just about the best moment of his life. He was just glad that it was a Saturday night, because at this rate he wasn’t sleeping.

He wasn’t sure of anything.

Was she sorry because he froze and she thought he didn’t like it?

Or was she sorry because she knew how he felt and she used that moment to decide that she didn’t feel the same?

But for right now, he was holding her in his arms and, even if this would be the last time it happened, it was enough for him. With his arms still wrapped tightly around her, he laid back, resting his head on the pillow behind them.

When Todoroki woke in the morning, he found himself looking down at (Y/N)’s sleeping form once more. Her eyes were red and puffy from her tears she had shed the night before but what surprised him most was that it appeared that at some point, she had gotten up and changed into pajamas, yet climbed back into bed beside him.

As she laid there, snuggled into his chest, he brushed a lock of hair from her face. It was another one of those moments where all he desired was to freeze time.

But as the light filtered through the window, her eyes scrunched together and she began to stir.

Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at him almost immediately. She smiled softly for a moment, before her eyes widened.

“Shoto, what are you doing here,” she asked slowly, as though she wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer.

“You had a rough night last night. I got you safely to your room and you started crying. So I guess I fell asleep comforting you.”

“I was really hoping that the part that made me cry was a bad dream,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay, Shoto.”

“Why are you sorry,” he inquired, not moving from his spot.

“I… I tried to make a move on you? You didn’t like it,” she admitted, looking down at her hands.

“(Y/N), look at me please,” he requested.

When she peeked up at him through her eyelashes, he took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger bringing her up to face him properly. His other hand gently brushed over her cheek, much like she had done to him the night before.

“I tried to tell you last night. I could never hate you. I liked it... I was surprised. And you weren’t in the right condition for me to give in, even if I was sure that you’d meant it,” he admitted softly.

There was a moment of silence between them before she let out a giggle.

“I was so scared. I was terrified that you didn’t like me back,” she confessed. “I’m an idiot!”

“We were both scared,” he corrected, feeling his cheeks grow warmer. “I thought that when you got injured… I’d never get the chance to tell you.”

“Shoto,” she whispered as she placed her hand over the one that was still absentmindedly stroking the side of her face. “Please, just kiss me.”

His heart jumped into his throat as he carefully moved closer, half expecting to wake up, finding this to be yet another dream. Yet, she closed the small space between them for a soft, hesitant kiss.

His heart was pounding, every cell of his body felt like it was on fire, yet his mind had never been so at ease. When they finally pulled apart, their faces were flushed, a small, dopey grin on each of their faces.

He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss before pulling her into his chest, muttering, “I’m not ready to get out of bed yet.”

With a small yawn, she nuzzled into his chest, pulling a blanket over the two of them as she replied with a light giggle, “You read my mind.”

#bnha shoto #bnha #bnha oneshots #oblivious cinnamon roll boi #shoto todoroki #bnha shouto #todoroki fluff #todoroki shouto #you have no idea how long it took for me to figure out how to do the 'keep reading' thing!

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 37 Pt 1

She woke to Gustaf tangled with her, his ridiculously long legs wrapped around hers, arms cradling her body against his like she was the most precious thing in the world. His face mirrored the peace he’d found in sleep with her last night. She knew what she had to do today, the restraining orders wouldn’t take much, but it would drag up toxic emotions for him and shove it firmly down his throat. Her only hope was that she could lessen the blow, offer him some level of protection. One day she thought as he trailed a finger down his jaw before fanning her fingers out over his chest, one day you’ll be free of her.

Her kiss, soft and tender, brought him to the surface, that curvy body entwined with his. “Mine.” He growled sleepily, his hold on her tightening, her quiet chuckle against his lips making him smirk. “All mine.” He breathed as he deepened the kiss, she was his kryptonite.

“I need to pee.” She chuckled. “And make some calls.” She didn’t want to elaborate and drag Ana into their bed, but she needed to get the ball rolling.

“Come back to bed after?” He mumbled into her hair still half asleep, the scent of her intoxicating as he nuzzled her neck.

“I’ll bring food.” She murmured.

“As long as you come with the food, I don’t care. I want you in bed with me all day.” His knuckles brushed her cheek and those eyes of glacial blue locked onto his. “I love you.” He said softly, his tone carried all the love he had for her.

“I know you do. I love you too, but I have to pee or it’s gonna get messy in here in a very unpleasant way.” She chuckled, kissing him chastely as he untangled his limbs from around her.

He’d drifted back to sleep by the time she’d donned her robe and walked out to the kitchen. Dragging her laptop from her office to sit on the kitchen island she started to organize her thoughts as the kettle boiled. Tea and notes, then phone calls.

She paced as she spoke to the police, seethed as they told her their investigation had stalled.

“You’ll have the paperwork to formally press charges by this afternoon.” She snapped. “You’re damn right we intend to. Now do your damn job and find her.”

He woke with a start at her tone, that ice cold fury unleashed on some unsuspecting soul. On any other day he’d revel in the lawyer surfacing, today it made his gut plummet. “Fucking Ana.” He sighed and punched the pillow. He could hear the anguish in her voice, the fear that the kids were in danger.

“I’m also serving her with a restraining order, several in fact, and accompanying injunctions. I have four children detective, I’m not giving her the chance to come after one of them, because if that happens from your departments lack of action, believe me when I tell you, this conversation will feel like I’ve congratulated you on the happiest day of your life.”

He couldn’t help the smirk, damn she was sexy as fuck when the lawyer came out to play. “Though she’s not playing this time around.” He murmured and continued to listen to her set the detective straight about how this was all going to happen.

“Put detective Leon Holmberg on the phone, right now.” She snapped, on her last fucking nerve. “I’ll wait.” She added sternly while he finished up whatever call he was on.

“Asshole.” She spat as the call was transferred. He wasn’t really, she was just pissed and emotional. Sure he was doing his job and she was emotionally invested in this, but stonewalling her wasn’t going to fly on any case, especially a personal one.

“Sildie? Sorry for the wait.” Leon’s gruff voice sounded as she sent an email off.

“It’s fine Leon, I just don’t appreciate the bullshit from your associate.” Her and Leon had crossed paths a few time in court with various cases, they were both straight shooters and got along well.

“He’s green, oh so green.” He chuckled. “Though your tongue lashing might have knocked some of that off him. He’ll learn. God were we ever that young?”

“Maybe twenty years ago.” She snorted. “And he’ll learn that stonewalling me isn’t in his best interest. Even when I’m not working.” She sniped. “Can you give me an update?”

“Sure. We visited her apartment last night once we were done at your door, she wasn’t home, so we visited her boyfriends apartment. He was there, she wasn’t. He was high and there was also a large quantity of drugs on his table in plain sight which he denies purchasing, they’re at the lab for forensics. If her prints are on it we’ll pick her up again.” She focused on what he was saying and added it all to her notes, fingers flying over the keyboard. “As for the tagging of your doors, we can charge them both as I said last night to Gustaf, nothing much will come of it, maybe a fine, but it’ll be documented.”

“Charge them both.” She said bluntly, no fucks given at how pissed she sounded at this point. “It’ll be enough to slap her with restraining orders and injunctions. I need to keep her away from Gustaf and away from our kids.”

He choked up a little, she was protecting him, fighting for him, for them. Our kids, Gustaf’s grin bloomed, he liked the sound of that, our kids, not hers, ours.

“I’ll send you over the police report, any findings. Are you filing yourself?”

“I’ll probably get Elsa to file on our behalf, she knows the kids and history which makes it easier. I’m too close to this to keep a level head. Gustaf has his own team of lawyers so I’ll talk to him and see what he wants to do.” She sighed.

“I’m going to head back to her place and try to track her down later today, I’ll up the urgency as much as I can. It’ll help once the orders and injunctions are in place, send me a copy as soon as they’re filed. I might be able to sit someone on her for a few days. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can get her on at the moment.”

“Give it time.” She muttered. “She’ll come at me again I’m sure.”

“People like that usually don’t stop or change.” He said softly. “Just be careful.”

“Plan on it. Thanks for the update and keep me in the loop?” She asked.

“Of course. I’ll email the reports over in about twenty.”

“Sounds good. Thanks Leon. I appreciate everything you can do.” She hung up and sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. Taking a few deep breaths she got her thoughts down, and started making breakfast. As she put the bacon in the oven she called Elsa. Dana’s partner picked up on the third ring with a cautious hello.

“Elsa, hey it’s Sildie.”

“Everything ok?”

“Sort of, the kids are fine, but we had an incident at Gustaf’s apartment, and mine.”

“What’s going on?”

He could hear her on the phone, laying out the entire situation from the office Christmas party, to Lucas’s visit, to the tagging of their front doors. Who was she speaking to now, he wondered?

“Can I make a suggestion?” Elsa asked, all business.

“Anything at this point. Just tell me I’m not overreacting.” She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose near her eyes to relieve the headache she could feel brewing.

“File the restraining orders, the injunctions, they probably won’t do much to deter her, but at least it’ll go on her record if she confronts you. I suggest Gustaf do the same, I’ll draw it up for him to save time. Have him send me his lawyers contact info and I’ll keep them in the loop. Once yours is filed I’ll file for the kids. I’m with you on that Sildie, let’s get them protected just in case.”

“Can you have them to me by today?” She chewed on her bottom lip, the anxiety building. “I know it’s the holidays but...”

“Give me a couple of hours and I’ll email it over. Once you’re both happy with them I’ll file it electronically and they can serve her with them this afternoon.” Elsa cut in. “It’s no issue Sildie.”

“I just got off the phone with the detective, they’ll need a copy too.” She said softly and relayed her conversation to get Elsa up to speed. “I’m so fucking angry. We’ve worked hard to get the kids settled, moved in together, fought hard to get through all her shit, he doesn’t need this Elsa, none of them do.”

“I don’t blame you, I’d be pissed too and you don’t need this either Sildie. You’ve gone through enough shit in the past year yourself. I’d call Lindstrom, and Lucas. I don’t think this will help his case, but it could add weight if the drugs have her prints and especially if the drugs are the same chemical signature as the ones Lucas found in his apartment.” Elsa let the silence linger giving Sildie a moment to think.

“He’s my next call. I’ll send you over a cease and desist and let’s add that to the injunction.” She chewed on her bottom lips and let the case fall into place in her mind. “It’ll need to include Gustaf’s family as well, mother, father, all his siblings. I need them all covered. Eija and Alex are in this mess as well if she goes that far.”

“Done, we can file it all together, cake walk.” Elsa said taking more notes as Sildie rattled off the full names of each sibling and their addresses.

He lay there thinking over what he’d just heard. His goddess protecting everything and everyone he loved, those that was dear to him. “What did I do to deserve you lovely lady?” He mumbled, in awe of the woman he’d fallen so hard for.

“I want to hit her with it all, I’m not fucking around and I want it made perfectly clear I will not put up with her shit.” She growled, her mind was made up, all or nothing, she had a family to protect and a sweet man that had worked too damn hard for a measure of peace.

He knew that tone and quietly got up, pulling some sweats on before shuffling out to the kitchen. She was riding on fury, the seething anger fueling her determination to stitch this up tight, the underlying emotion ready to tear her apart when she was done.

“Give me until one Sildie and I’ll call you once I’ve sent it over.”

“Thanks Elsa, sorry to ruin your new year so quickly.” Her eyes flicked to Gustaf and away again as she paced the room. So angry, he thought, this was nothing like the night she’d ripped into him in his workout room, or when she got drunk outside her apartment, this was a whole other level of supremely fucked off.

“There nothing I won’t do to protect Dana’s kids, or you. We’ll keep them safe.”

“I owe you one.”

“Girls night out sometime, I miss that.” Elsa chuckled.

“Done. Thanks again.” Her smile lightened his concern a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Anytime Sildie, and I mean that. You could have called last night and I would have answered.”

Sildie chuckled. “I was still processing it. Bye for now.” She knew he’d been there for the last part of the conversation and she sighed out the tension as his arms wrapped around her.

“Everything ok?”

“It will be. I have paperwork in process and I need your lawyers information.” She turned to kiss him. “Elsa will do up a restraining order and injunction for you and your family and have your team look over it before filing.”

“Looking after me?” He said gently.

“Damn right I’m looking after you.” She muttered as his mouth claimed that one spot on her neck.

“I like it when you look after me, get all feisty.” She could feel the smirk against her skin, he was trying to get her to relax, take her mind off it.

“And what are you doing out of bed? I told you to stay there so I could bring you food.” She flicked his nose before kissing him with a slight smile. Her attempt at hiding the anger was a good effort, but he saw it for what it was, she was scared.

“I heard your tone change.” He said gently. “I wanted to make sure you’re ok.” He could hear the stress and anxiety in her voice and knew she’d need to release it and soon before the anxiety pushed her into a panic attack.

“I’ll be better when I have shit in place that clearly states. Don’t fuck with me and mine.” She tapped his arm as the timer went off to pull the bacon out of the oven. “I have to call Lindstrom and Lucas in a bit too. I don’t know if this will help his case any, but they need to know.” She turned the pan on to make scrambled eggs and let the task calm her.

He let her talk, the more she was talking about it the less she was holding in, they were a team and even though they were still finding their feet as a couple, this was what built trust and dependability, they were there for each other tackling shit together.

“So because it’s an isolated incident they may not be able to use it?” He asked trying to understand how it all worked.

“Exactly. It has nothing to do with Lucas, but, if the drugs in the dudes apartment have her prints, same chemical makeup, it could help their case. It’s a pattern.”

“It was a stupid move on her part.” He muttered. “Letting herself be seen.”

“It was, but I don’t think she knew we had cameras installed.” Sildie said honestly.

“And I don’t think she knows what she’s up against with you love. Most people back down and can’t be bothered with the hassle of going to the police, so she gets away with it. I’m guilty of doing exactly that, I just kicked her out I didn’t call the police on her. Not you though, you’re like a fucking pitt bull.” He chuckled.

“I can’t watch her fuck with you again.” She said quietly, her tone quivering. “And she sure as shit doesn’t get to fuck with our kids.” She spat.

“No, she doesn’t. Is there anything I can do? Need to do to help this along? Anything?” He said tenderly, fingers stroking her cheek.

She shook her head. “No, just your lawyers info and let me handle her.” She busied plating the eggs and stacked the bacon beside it. “If they establish a pattern with her purchasing drugs it could drag you into it.” She said quietly and felt like she’d kicked a puppy when she looked at him.

“Shit.” He felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath him.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t know if that’s her plan, but it’s a possibility and I don’t want it to blindside you.” She kissed him tenderly. “Talk to your lawyers.” She said bluntly. “I’m absolutely serious.” She added when he snorted. “I’m talking to Lindstrom here in a bit and I’ll be asking him to represent you if things go pear shaped.”

“You seriously think it could go that far?” He asked, a touch of fear edging his voice.

“If, and that’s a big if, if they establish pattern they can charge her with more. It becomes trafficking which is a heftier charge. I’d have to look it up, but it adds weight against her case and in favor for Lucas’s. If they establish pattern and look deeper they could look at your relationship with her, same pattern. You found drugs she’d purchased and kicked her out. What about the person before you, and before them? Same deal I suspect. Just be prepared ok?”

“I didn’t even think of that.” He said slightly stunned.

“I don’t know what her end game is love. I can only give you plausible worst case scenarios with evidence that may not be viable. I don’t know whether it’s to bring you down, smear you across the media, or to get back at me for calling her out on her shit at the Christmas party, but I’m not going to see you dragged into a fight blindly.” She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled, her mind chewing over everything, the fury still rolling off her in waves. “And you sure as shit aren’t facing her on your own.”

“I’m sorry love.” He murmured and kissed her temple drawing her close.

”No, you don’t get to apologize for her either. This is shitty, but I’m not going to stand by and watch her try to destroy you again. She picked the wrong bitch to fuck with this time.” She was so angry, more out of fear for Gustaf and the kids than herself. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snarl and snipe at you, I’m just so fucking livid.”

“I know.” He kissed her brow again. “Let it go now.” He murmured. “Together love.” He said softly, his fingers toying with her wisps of hair at her cheek. “Let it go.”

“I know.” She sighed and felt the fight drain from her as he kissed her brow and lingered. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Fuck this blows.” She huffed.

“Yeah, but you were right with what you said last night. We can’t let her get between us or let her win, she’s a blip. We deal with the blip and move on with what we’re doing, our life. Together.” He put the kettle on to boil as they stood and ate the rest of their meal at the kitchen counter, she was too agitated to sit still. Once the tea was made and she’d eaten half of her plate he pulled her to him. “Do what you need to do, then let it be for the day, because then I want to take you back to bed and finish what we started last night.” He growled as he nuzzled her neck.

Her giggle lightened his heart. “You’re right.” She kissed him sinfully, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let me make some calls and then we can let it go for the day.”

“That’s my girl.” He purred, mouth savaging hers. She left the comfort of his arms to walk toward her office, the nibble of her bottom lip more out of being lost in thought of her upcoming conversation than teasing, the smack to her ass however was firm enough to sting. “Don’t push your luck kitten.” He growled. She sent him a wicked smirk and her thoughts seemed to change mid stride.

She was sure he was going to spank her last night but didn’t, understandibly, would he do it today? “Fuck I hope so.” She sighed to herself as she sat at her desk and turned her computer on. She could do with some borderline pleasurable pain to get over whatever this was she was feeling. Anger, resentment, fury, rage, guilt, grief, jealousy, all of the above, she thought. It was the jealousy that unnerved her, such an ugly emotion and she was better than that.

She made her own notes, her own case file, documenting everything that happened and the steps she’d taken to protect her family. Her family, she thought and her fingers stopped over the keys as she looked at the digital photo frame of the six of them, the only family she had left. She would protect them the only way she knew how, with the law. She’d fought for the kids before and she’d fight for Gustaf and his family too.

He left her to work knowing that if he interrupted her now he’d get the lawyer land stare. She had a process, and a need to make this right, to protect him, to protect the kids in her own way. Pulling the gloves on he worked the bag, his own need to process his thoughts, he needed the physical exertion. Letting the events of last night play in his mind he dealt with the anger and frustration that came with it, pounding the bag mercilessly until his muscles begged him to stop. He felt better for it once he sat for meditation, the calm washing over him and filling him much quicker and easier now he’d put it in its place. The process had become easier since Sildie, the calm he found with her. She was right, he’d come too far to let minor shit with Ana get in his head and fuck with him. And this was minor shit, an inconvenience, a blip.

She could hear him in his workout room as she put the kettle on to boil and decided to leave him be. The door was open and he wasn’t shutting her out, he was processing last night just as she had been doing as she worked. He’d come to her when he was done and knew his mindset would be better for it. Taking the fresh pot of tea to her office she sat and called Lucas.

“Sildie? Hi, happy new year.” Lucas said brightly, but she could hear the uncertainty in his voice, probably wondering why she was calling him.

“Hey, happy new year.” She tried to sound cheerful and failed.

“Everything ok?”

“Not really, no. You got a minute to chat?” She chewed on her lip.

“Of course, what’s going on?” His tone became instantly concerned.

She relayed the events of last night, the paperwork she’d already filed and scrubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know where that leaves you, or how it affects you, but I wanted you to know.”

“Shit.” He sighed out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, you’re not responsible for her actions.” She said a little too harshly and was sure he’d flinched at her tone. “Sorry, I’m a little pissy.” She added hearing her abrasive tone and took a breath.

“I know, I just... you know what I mean. I’m surprised you haven’t hit nuclear yet.” He said huffing a chuckle.

“I’m working on it.” She snorted.

“Definitely call Lindstrom. I’ll catch him up on most of it tomorrow when we discuss charges of my own against her for the funds she stole, but he’ll want to hear it from you.” Lucas added.

“I need to talk to him about another matter too.” She said and told him her theory and possible pattern of behavior landing Gustaf in the hot seat. “I’ll copy you on our case, in the event it helps yours.”

“Shit Sildie, I didn’t even think of that. What are you guys going to do?” He asked.

“Let it play out for now. I want Lindstrom in our corner if it goes south. If she comes for me again we’re protected, law wise, other than that there’s not much more I can do.”

“Good plan. How did she get into the building, I thought they had it locked down?” He asked as she poured her tea.

“Her newest squeeze lives downstairs.” She told him of her conversation with Leon. “I know it’s petty but she’s due for some fucking karma.” She sighed out sipping her tea. “I just want her gone from our lives.”

“God yes, you and me both. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll keep it active.” She could hear the honesty in his voice.

“You holding up ok?” She asked sipping her tea.

“Yeah. It looks as though they’re not going to charge me. She tried to cover her tracks, but didn’t do a very good job of it. I’m about to have it out with the bank. It just adds more weight, you know how it is. Slow and methodical, build the case.”

“Good luck with the bank. Knowing her she had a whole cocked up sob story to get her whatever her little black heart desired.” Sildie snarked, god she was in such a pissy mood as she heard her tone.

“No doubt.”

“Anyway, I gotta run.” She said as Gustaf appeared in the doorway, empty cup in hand searching for the teapot. “I just wanted you to know what she was up to.”

“I appreciate it Sildie. Call Lindstrom he’ll want to know.”

“Sounds good, take care.”

“You too.”

She hung up and blew a breath out, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Fuck me I want to hunt that bitch down and end her myself right the fuck now.” She huffed and let it go, she had to or it would eat her alive. Too fucking late she thought, she was irritable and on edge, and it made her twitchy. She hated twitchy.

“She’ll get what she’s owed love, in spades.” He said softly as he placed his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned in to kiss her sweetly. He hated seeing her like this. “You’ll end her your own way, with the law behind you.” He kissed her again. “What else is bothering you love?”

“I don’t know.” She said quickly, a little too quickly, but she was telling the truth, she didn’t know what was up today. Was it Ana, last night with his family, remnants of the move, Christmas, she wondered? It was like someone had shaken up a hornets nest and made her swallow it whole.

“I don’t like seeing you on edge like this.” He said gently.

“I don’t like being on edge, but I am, and I don’t know why.” Her voice cracked as a surge of unwelcome emotion threatened to consume her.

He kissed her tenderly. “Are you done for the day?” He asked, lips ghosting hers. He wanted to take care of her, soothe her and help her to find the release she needed to deal with whatever this emotion was that had her so worked up. That was the one thing he could give her, the sex that set her free, that allowed her to let go of the control and rid herself of whatever it was smothering her, suffocating her.

“I just have to wait for Elsa to call me back at one and I need to email Lindstrom. There’s not much he can do today that can’t wait until he’s back in the office, but I want it there in his inbox first thing when Lucas talks to him.” She murmured relaxing back and letting him slowly devour her mouth. Her phone rang and she smirked against his lips. “It must be one.”

“Must be. Come back to bed when you’re done love.” He said, the hint of demand lacing his words, it wasn’t a request. He would set her free on another level, and she needed it, he thought.

“Hi Elsa.” She said answering the call and watching him as he walked to the door. She bit her bottom lip as he turned to look at her, the heated desire in his glare spoke volumes.

That look from under her lashes and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth was enough to send his arousal into the stratosphere. With a deep rumbling snarl he stalked to the bedroom and set his plan in motion.

“Thanks Elsa. I’ll sign these and get them straight back to you.” She said with a steady breath.

“I’ll have them served this afternoon.”

“You’re the best.” She breathed a sigh of relief, she’d done all she could today to make sure they were safe yet she felt it wasn’t enough.

“I’ve sent a copy to Gustaf’s team, but his isn’t as urgent as yours and the kids. Yours will cover his apartment because that’s where you’re living. I’ve covered all the bases with the injunction and your cease and desist is perfect, I can have that cover Gustaf and his family as well, I’ll modify it to fit.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’ll call you next week, I have to run.” Elsa chuckled when her four year old screamed from the other room.

“No problem and thanks again Elsa.”

“You bet.”

She read and signed each order and emailed it back to Elsa, the weight lifting from her shoulders the moment she hit send. “I’ve done all I can do.” She breathed out shakily. “Now we let it be.” She huffed a breath out. “Yeah... right.” Yes she’d taken it as far as she could legally take it by protecting Gustaf’s family, but there was always the what if. She thought of Eija and Alex in particular and knew she now had to give them a heads up. “It never fucking ends.” She growled and scrubbed a hand over her face.

She took the teapot to the kitchen and rinsed it out.

“Hey can you text me the phone numbers for Eija and Alex?” She asked Gustaf as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sure, everything ok?” He asked as he’d come into the kitchen to talk to her about the kids and was completely thrown off by her request.

“Yeah, or it will be. I had the restraining orders against Ana include your family. They all need to know if Ana contacts them in any way they need to call the police and file a complaint.”

“Well shit.” He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass, but this is how you build a case. Every time she contacts someone with a restraining order it goes in her file and won’t look so good with those sorts of violations on her record when she goes to court.”

He hastily texted her the numbers she requested and added Sam, and Valter. “Text them all, it’ll be better coming from you, I’ll only fuck up the wording.” He snorted, it was the truth.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. This is your realm love not mine, but I’ll back you up all the way.” He kissed her tenderly. “Dad and Megan texted, which is why I came out here. They’re taking the kids to a movie and bowling.” He said as he turned her in his arms to nibble her neck. “And they’re keeping the kids tonight as well.” His father had offered once Gustaf had told him of their welcome home present last night. They both needed another night and the kids were happy spending time with grandpa.

“Oh, they... ok.” She stammered, she felt her gut sink suddenly, that jealousy churning inside her. Would they be ok was her first thought and then scolded herself for being so silly. Of course they’ll be ok, she snapped at herself silently. The jealousy was another matter, it sat heavy inside her like a greasy taint.

“You’re not ok with it?” He shook his head, he should have cleared it with her first. I’m an idiot, he swore silently, such an idiot.

“No, I’m fine with it, just wasn’t expecting... never mind.” She shook her head, she couldn’t let her emotions cloud the fact the kids now had a family that cared, to give them what she missed out on. That wasn’t fair on them and she wouldn’t be that person. “It’s a good thing.” She had to give a little here, Gustaf should make decisions for them as well, she knew he had their best interests at heart. It was all just happening at an alarming rate and she wasn’t sure she was handling it all very well. Let’s be real, she scoffed internally, you’re not handling any of this well.

“As long as you’re fine with it. I’ll ask next time.” He mentally kicked himself again for not asking in the first place.

“No it’s ok, I trust you with them love, I just need to relinquish control and I’m just... pissy.” She snarked at herself. “I’m trying, but you know me, control freak extraordinaire.” She snapped.

“I know you’re trying love. He offered and I thought it would be nice for them and for us.” He wanted to make her feel less of the stress she was currently burdened with. This was so much more than Ana, more than Quinn.

“I’m sorry, I’m on edge and irritated at everything. I need to text your family.” Her tone was abrasive as she pulled away from him to go do exactly what she’d said.

He knew her mood wasn’t because of him, but it stung, it hurt to see her wrestling something he couldn’t see, couldn’t fix, and her not being able to voice it made it that much worse. Was it last night, he wondered, the jealousy she’d felt? It was a deeper emotion, something that had surged forward along with everything else. “My love.” He muttered as she stomped away. “How do I help you?” His text tone chimed and he read it as she wandered back into the kitchen. He gave her room, some space to digest events, her own emotions.

Hi Everyone

Her text read.

Gustaf and I will chat with you all later in the week to give you the details, but so you are aware, due to an incident at our home last night we have a restraining order out against Ana. The order lists all of you, so if she contacts you in any way please contact the police and file a report. Please have them attach it to the following: Restraining Order #936358-ND-65. Attention: Detective Leon Holmberg. If she contacts you say nothing other than “you are violating your restraining order, I can’t talk to you” and walk away or hang up, do not engage her in conversation in any manner even if she continues to follow you, talk, or harass you. The order is for your protection, please use it. I’ll email you copies and further instruction once the paperwork is served on her this afternoon. Please keep that in mind the more she contacts you the worse it is for her providing you file the report and don’t retaliate.

His phone rang a moment later and he smirked as Eija’s number came on the screen.

“What’s up nugget?” He said cheerily and saw the quick smile on Sildie’s face at his endearment.

“What’s up? Really Goose? Your girlfriend sends me a text saying all hell broke loose last night and you ask me what’s up? You fucker, why didn’t you call me?” Her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You guys ok?”

“Were fine.” He said gently as he watched Sildie pace, it was eating at her.

“Put me on speaker.” He did as she asked and pulled Sildie to him, anything to calm the raging storm under her skin.

“Hi Eija.” Sildie said softly.

“Hi back. What the fuck happened?” Sildie appreciated Eija, blunt and to the point much like she was. Gustaf relayed the events of the evening sensing Sildie was over talking to people about this for the day, it was his family after all and he needed to pick up the slack.

“Sildie you need anything from me you call ok?” Eija said fiercely. “I don’t give a fuck about what time it is or what I’m in the middle of, where you or the kids are, you need me, you fucking call.”

“Thanks Eija.” She smiled, the feeling of being accepted by his family choking her up. How did she deserve this, deserve them? Family pulls together when something happens, protects each other, this was so new for her. Hadn’t Stellan said the exact same thing to her last night?

Gustaf fielded calls from all his siblings and finally his mother as Sildie sipped her tea and zoned out. He’d only heard his mother get angry a few times in her life, but she was beyond livid, not at Sildie, or at him, angry at the situation and the potential harm it could do to her kids, her family. He promised to call her later in the week, to come over for lunch.

“Your dad texted me back letting me know the kids are safe and will continue to be.” She said softly still staring at her phone. How did she process such love from a family that barely knew her, a family that accepted her so openly and unconditionally?

“He’ll keep them safe love.” He murmured, bundling her into his arms. “My dad is a force to be reckoned with when he’s angry, especially if it involves his kids, or in this case, his grand kids.” He kissed her gently and looked at her slightly perplexed when she pulled away to pace. She was agitated, still on edge and he was at a loss as to why. He watched her take her laptop back to her office and disappear.

“My love, how do I help you when you push me away?” He sighed and went to the bedroom, knowing she was compartmentalizing to get through this shit storm before falling apart. She had the email to write to Lindstrom and once that was done he’d see to it that she relaxed and decompressed.

She typed furiously as the letter to Lindstrom flowed easily. Laying out their case, the possibility of pattern behavior, Gustaf, Lucas, her kids. She choked and sucked a shuddered breath in. Her limit of holding back her anxiety had almost reach critical mass for the day and knew once the letter was sent her system was going to freak the fuck out and own her ass. After sending the email to Lindstrom, she sent emails to Oliver, Daisy, the school, and daycare, hockey, soccer, covered all bases. She knew she was being overly cautious. “Better than the alternative.” She muttered.

Gustaf was nowhere to be found in the main living area when she eventually emerged from her office, her laptop now closed, paperwork neatly stacked. Coming into the bedroom she could hear water running from the en-suite and figured he was taking a shower. He must be so upset with me, she thought. Her behavior wasn’t exactly pleasant today, she’d snapped and spat at him all day like some deranged cat, anger and rage mixed with jealousy. She didn’t like herself when she got like this.

“Good timing.” He said as he stepped into the room to find her standing at the window staring out at the snowfall.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, her eyes fixed on the fat snowflakes tumbling to the ground.

“For what love?” He came to stand beside her, the urge to touch her strong, but he sensed she needed to come to him, her system frazzled.

“For the way I spoke to you earlier, I’ve been in a pisser of a mood since I woke up and I’ve been taking it out on you. That’s not who I am and you deserve better from me.” She choked.

“It’s ok.” His tone tender.

“No, Gustaf it’s not.” She said turning to face him, the tell tale wheeze of her anxiety prevalent. “I don’t like being this person, the one that’s so fucking terrified that she bites your head off every chance she gets.” She struggled to suck in a breath and he was in front of her a heart beat later.

“Breathe.” He commanded softly, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to do as he asked. “And again love.” He murmured, as she managed a small one. He talked to her, helping her focus on one breath after another until she took a deep breath and let it shudder out.

“I’m sorry.” She choked. “I don’t like who I am right now.”

He kissed her, full on wrapped her face in his gigantic hands and devoured every inch of that gorgeous mouth. It wasn’t seductive, it was to shut her up and shock her into silence, it worked. “It’s ok. Sometimes you have to get in the mood to get shit done, to kick some ass and take some names, you’ve done that. All day you’ve done that. Now it’s time to let it be.” He murmured and kissed her tenderly.

“I’m scared.” She admitted quietly. “And this jealousy I have no fucking right to feel just bubbles out of nowhere.” Her tone was so lost, he thought. It hadn’t been that way for a while.

“I know you’re scared love.” He took a chance and slowly bundled her into his arms. “I’m not feeling particularly great about it all either. But as you keep reminding me, we can’t let her win.” Her snort made him smirk.

“God you’re so fucking right.” She sighed. “And here I am letting her do exactly that.” She was such an idiot.

“At least you channeled it into something useful.” He chuckled taking a dig at himself. “I’ll remind you if you remind me?” He said gently as he kissed her brow.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I should have got my lazy ass up and helped.” He scoffed at himself.

“There wasn’t anything for you to help with really.”

“I could have made breakfast.” He smiled at her chuckle, she was coming back to him. “So, to make up for that faux pas, come with me a moment.” He took her by the hand and led her to the bathroom where the tub was full, bubbles and the soft candlelight almost instantly calming her. “In you get. I’m going to make tea and come and join you.”

“I love you.” She said softly, her voice quavering, he was so good to her.

“I love you too.” He kissed her tenderly as he slipped the silk robe from her shoulders, hands roaming her body with a need to soothe, to nurture, to give. “Get in the tub love. Let it be done for today and relax.” He murmured, his lips ghosting hers before he kissed her slowly and pulled away to go and make tea.

Her moan was delirious as she slipped into the blistering hot water, he knew how she liked it. Letting the thoughts of the day melt from her brain she started to drift, the anxiety falling away to finally allow her to relax. She’d done all she could to keep those she loved safe, to help start building a case against Ana if it came to that. Her thoughts went to the kids, the ten day vacation in the snow that Gustaf had booked, and smiled. That would be some good bonding time for all of them. How could she be jealous of that? “Stupid.” She huffed. “You’re just being a selfish stupid woman.”

The clink of china on the tile roused her from the warm and sleepy state she’d fallen into while he’d been gone, the thoughts of children of their own again drifting through her consciousness every now and then.

“You’re all soft and sleepy.” He said quietly, the arousal of her in such a state edging his tone. Bending down to kiss her his hand slipped beneath the water to touch her, fingers teasing as his mouth claimed hers. “Can I join you?”

“Mmmm.” She sighed dreamily. Moving forward Gustaf climbed in behind her and stretched out, bundling her into his lap.

“Now this is much better.” He purred, the water easing the stress from his body in an instant. “I brought snacks, I figured you wouldn’t want a huge meal.”

“It’s perfect.” She relaxed back against that massive chest, his arms curling around her protectively, the tenderness of his touch reassuring her that they would be ok. They talked softly, sipping their tea, snacking, the lazy strokes of his fingers making her entire body turn to goo. He smirked against the nape of her neck as a shiver skittered over her skin as his lips tended a favorite spot.

“I’m falling asleep I’m so relaxed.” She chuckled, his mouth seductively toying with her earlobe.

“I love it when you’re all soft and warm and sleepy.” He dipped his head down to gently bite her shoulder.

“I know you do.” She sighed as his hands cupped her breasts. Turning the jets on he continued to caress her body, arouse her, seduce her, determined to see her fully relaxed and sated before sleep claimed her.

When she was almost a complete mess he helped her out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her, pulling her close. He had a need to take care of her today, after all the upheaval of the last twenty four hours he needed it as much as she did.

Walking her back to the bed his mouth claimed hers, lazy, tender, yet demanding. Fingers removed the towel and he kissed her as she climbed on to the bed. Rolling her to her side he wrapped her top leg around him and slipped into that glorious wet heat. He made love to her, pulling each soft cry and whimper from her with heartbreaking tenderness.

“Gustaf.” Her voice choked, he could hear the sob waiting ready to fall as soon as she came.

“I know love, let it take you.” He murmured, the slow, deep thrusts caressing that one spot inside her that would be her undoing. His finger stroked over her clit, the sensation tipping her over the edge. She came hard, the soft cry of his name tumbling from her lips peaking his own release. Quickening his pace slightly he rode out their bliss, coming hard.

Her body shook as he slowed and gently pulled out to lay beside her, the tears came next. He was expecting them after the stress of the morning, the anger that still simmered beneath the surface, her inner turmoil. “Come here love.” He murmured, curling her into him. “Let it go.” He kissed her hair, the scent of her soothing him.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed.

“It’s fine. Let it go.” He soothed as his fingers gently raked through her hair. She calmed eventually, the sobs giving way to just tears, Gustaf didn’t know what was worse really, he hated it when she cried but knew that sometimes she was better for it. “Too much today and last night.” He said softly.

“Overload.” She sniffed, as she burrowed into his chest, his scent soothing the rough edges of her distress and the strength she found with him.

“Sleep now love.” He kissed her brow and pulled the covers over them both.

“Boring for you.” She scoffed, her tone telling him she was already drifting.

“I have you in my arms love, nothing boring about that. I think we could both use the rest.” She craned her head back to look at him.

“I love you and I’m sorry.” She said gently, her fingers brushing his lips.

“I love you and I’m sorry too.” He smiled and nipped her fingers. “That tickles.” He chuckled and her smile loosened the tight feeling in his chest. “Close you eyes and sleep, or just drift, switch that wicked smart brain of yours off for a few hours. We have nowhere to be or to do anything else today.” He soothed, his fingers coasting up and down the length of her side. “A nap will be good for both of us.”

“I’m scared.” She whispered, as if voicing it would bring down a world of hurt on them both.

“I know you are love, I am too.” He snuggled her in tighter. “But we stick together, you and me.” Her nod made him smile. “We’ll have a week and change with the kids in the snow, far away from her and all this shit. We’ll take a breath, recharge, and then hit her with everything we have.” He kissed her hair. “I’m not going to let her destroy what we have Sildie.” He vowed, and her head came up off his chest and her kiss was fierce.

“I love you sweet man.”

“She doesn’t get to fuck with this family.” He growled. She kissed him, that tender kiss that rocked him to his core.

“You’re so much stronger than her.”

“Because I have you. You make me a better man Sildie, a better person, and she doesn’t get to fuck with that.”

“I’m worried about the kids, when they go back to school.” She was still processing, struggling to switch it off.

“I know love. Hopefully this will be done by then. And if it isn’t...” He tangled his fingers in that copper halo he adored and devoured her mouth slowly. “If it isn’t, we’ll deal with it, together, you and me.” He smiled at her. “Though I don’t think you’d have any problem kicking her ass seven ways to Sunday on your own regardless.” He gave her lips a quick peck in jest. “But you’re not alone love, I’ll help take her down anyway I can.” He kissed her tenderly. “Sleep a bit now ok?” Shut it down for a few hours and recharge.”

“Will you stay?” She breathed out as he felt her entire body relax into him, the need to know he would be here when she woke overwhelming.

“I’m not going anywhere love.” He kissed her hair as he felt her plummet into sleep at his words.

His thoughts drifted, there was nothing else either of them could do about the current situation. They had exhausted all options apart from committing homicide to rid the world of Ana’s existence. Sildie had busted ass today to keep everyone he loved safe, not just him and the kids, but his entire family. A family that she’d only just become a part of, a family that she was still getting a feel for, so new, so daunting, yet she’d defended them, protected them without hesitation. “How do I deserve someone as wonderful as you my love?” He whispered, breathing her in. The warmth of her against him pulling him into sleep, those soft curves pressed to him in all the right places.

He was woken by soft, lazy kisses from a woman just waking up herself. Half asleep he deepened it. “My Sildie.” He murmured, the rasp in his voice causing her to moan, her lips searching for more of him, more from him.

“I love waking up to you.” She breathed, those Viking blue eyes fluttering open to look at her. His hands were already moving along her body, a touch so gentle, so loving. It was a time for them to reconnect, the lazy seduction and sloppy kisses exactly what they needed. He’d never had this with any other woman, the spontaneity, the relaxed love making to soothe more than just the act of fucking each other.

“Roll over.” He murmured against her mouth, fingers enticing her to move onto her side. “Mmmmm. Much better.” He purred as he spooned her, hands tenderly cupping her breasts, thumbs exciting her nipples to hardened buds. His movements were unhurried, carefree but not careless, her own equally arousing.

She could feel his hardening length against her thigh, the lazy thrusts as he flexed his hips, grinding against her. Relaxing back into him she gave herself over to his talented fingers dancing along her skin, the arousal pooling at her entrance.

“Scoot your leg forward.” He murmured, and guided it to where he wanted it, mouth sucking on a tender spot below her ear.

“Spoony sex.” She giggled.

“Mmmm, never done this one?” He asked softly as his fingers drifted over her navel and inched toward her clit.

“No.” She sighed.

“Spoon sex is lazy.” He kissed a trail down her neck. “Slow.” His tongue darted out to flick the pulse at her neck before he sucked on it gently. “Erotic, unhurried, and with the right partner, beautiful. Just like you.” He kissed her as her head turned to look at him. “I love you Sildie.” His fingers trailed her jaw as he studied her face, he could never get enough of her.

“I love you too.” Her hand cupped the side of his face as she claimed his mouth, tongue dancing with his.

“Relax.” He breathed and went back to completely destroying her system. Those clever fingers stoked her arousal, eventually slipping between her folds and over her clit where he circled it slowly. “Feel good?” He whispered as her breath hitched and that soft whimper fell from her lips.

“Yes.”

Taking his cock in his hand he stroked the engorged tip through her juices, her heat making his own breath catch. Pausing at her entrance he continued to torment her clit. His pace was devilishly slow, pulling out every sensation her body had to offer her and setting fire to it. With a gentle flex of his hips he inched the tip inside her, the stretch to her opening causing that moan to tumble out. “You like that.”

“God yes. So big.” She gasped as he started thrusting, slow and shallow. “Gustaf.” He was so thick with her legs like this she almost thought he wouldn’t fit. Her belly and pussy fluttered, the muscles eager to feel him, every glorious inch of him.

“Let it take you love.” He purred, lips teasing the shell of her ear as his fingers kept the same torturous rhythm. “Let me feel you.” Her arm reached back and held him behind his head as she tensed, her body poised to shatter.

“I can’t.” She choked.

“Breathe and come for me.” He murmured tenderly and gently sucked the pulse at her neck. It was enough to tip her over, that gorgeous cry of his name as she came, her pussy clamping down around him. “Feels good.” He growled. “So good.” He continued to take her apart, the steady rhythm building each orgasm and letting it crash over her again and again.

“Come with me.” She gasped as another built, the need to feel him find release, find his own pleasure, to feel him pulse inside her.

He shifted slightly and thrust deeper, her cry one of surprise it could feel that good and total euphoria at being filled. “You’re so tight like this.” His breathing not as steady as before. They took each other, slow and deep, drawing out the intense pleasure. “Sildie.” His tone that deep timbre she loved, one he only used for her. He bit down on her shoulder gently as she peaked, the struggle to keep in control until she came almost painful.

He felt her fall over the edge, the savage grip of her pussy as she came making her that much tighter. Keeping the same rhythm he held her tightly to him as he tensed, his release thundering through him, the soft groan as he found his pleasure making her smile. Slowing to a stop they lay there sated, loose, and relaxed.

“I think you liked that.” He grinned against her hair as her quiet chuckle filled the room.

“There is nothing about our sex life I don’t like.” She half turned in his arms to look at him. “I like lazy, spoony sex.” Her kiss was smoldering.

“That’s illegal.” He breathed. “Yet so fucking good.” His growl made her chuckle.

“Food? I have no idea what the time is, but I’m hungry.”

“It’s only seven.” He said glancing at his phone. He kissed her and deepened it when her tongue teased his. “Plenty of time for food and more of you.” The smirk at her lips wasn’t lost on him.

“I like the sound of more of you.” She purred and nipped his jaw. “Food first.” They untangled themselves and headed to the kitchen, Sildie quite happy to wander the apartment naked.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #shattered lives #gustaf skarsgård fanfiction

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lo-55 · 4 years

Text

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 13

End of an Era

Ichigo was going to kiss Yoruichi for teaching him how to move so damn fast.

Or maybe just buy her a bunch of over priced cat food.

Yeah, that sounded better.

Something to show her that he appreciated what she’d done when she had drilled him between bouts with Zangetsu when he was learning his new skills and techniques. It was more or less like a second ascension, this Bankai he’d learned to use.

(One day, all in all, and he had shattered so many swords even EMIYA would have been hard pressed to keep pace with him, before he finally found the right ones. He had to. After the show they'd put on Rukia was scheduled to die in just one day, barely enough time to prepare a scaffold.)

If she hadn’t shown him how to use reitsu to launch himself off the ground and really move faster, he would have never gotten there in time. He would have never arrived in time to see Gin, the man who had attacked him at the Shiba house, half covered in ice and a man next to him completely coated while Rukia stood over a bleeding Renji.

Ichigo had barely noticed she’d been pulling on his powers again. Yet there she stood, a perfect white blade held in steady hands, and determination pinching her brows.

He came just in time to see Kyo shatter her zanpakuto into snow flakes with his bare hands and hit her with the roughest kido Ichigo had seen yet before grabbing her by the horrible red collar that was still stuck around her throat.

“Hey!” Ichigo shouted, levelling his sword point at him. “Drop her.”

Frantically, he searched Kyo’s eyes for that flash of recognition from before. There was nothing. Just calm, flat brown eyes. It was just like when they’d first met, only this time Kyo is a much better liar. He looks docile, even though he’s holding Rukia by the neck. Mild and kind.

Ichigo isn’t fooled. He hasn’t been fooled by Kyo for a long, long time.

“Ichigo Kurosaki. You’re quite the interesting one. Sad to say you’ll have to tell Kisuke that your mission ended in failure.” Kyo waves his hand and chants a spell and light smashes into Ichigo from all sides. It’s the same spell Byakuya had used in the human world, just a billion times stronger. Kyo rips the ribbon off of Rukia’s wrist and Ichigo’s power fades from her, leaving her in the simple white kimono.

Ichigo paused, frowning. He is loath to attack Kyo without knowing more about what he’s doing here, or where he’s been. Is he the captain that had ‘died’? It sounds like something he would do. He’s smart enough to fake his own death.

“What does he have to do with this?” Just because he opened a gate for them?

Kyo smiles, a smug phantom, and Ichigo realizes suddenly that he’s been chasing on thread on a tapestry the entire time.

He’s completely missed a bigger picture.

“Did you not wonder why Gin came to visit you? Or knew where you were? It was because I knew you would arrive in western rukongai. I even had him waiting at the gate for you, in case you charged in. You see, I knew you would have to use the Shiba canon. With such a dramatic entrance-”

“It left you free to move around without anyone noticing,” Ichigo cut in. He narrowed his eyes. “You used us as a distraction. Was it you who brought Rukia back, to lure us in? Why the west?”

“In part,” Kyo tilted his head, the smile still in place. “And the west was simple. That is where Urahara Kisuke’s referencial residence is, you know… oh.”

Ichigo grit his teeth. His temper was starting to flare, and with it so was his reitsu. Urahara had been using them for something. Kyo was using them for something. He wasn’t a damn puppet!

“I was under the impression that you were his subordinate. That you came here on his orders. I see now. So he told you nothing at all about what was happening here, or who I am or what I might be doing. I bet he didn’t even tell you about what he needed Rukia here for.”

Ichigo listened with half an ear as Kyo explained about the limits of shinigami powers, and the only way to break through them. The only way that Kisuke had ever found to break through them.

Hollow hybrids. White masks. Holes in the chest. Still shinigami. Rukia was just a container, and a hiding place.

Ichigo grips Zangetsu tighter. He stands somewhere between the present and the past. America and seireitei blur together and he struggles to piece apart the Kyo he knows and the man who stands before him, cold smiles and distant dreams. He is insubstantial and untouchable.

The bindings on his arms tighten.

Without warning the world explodes under a massive sword stroke from-

A werewolf?

A day before the execution, after they have been freed by a wanna be porcupine,Uryu wonders if he’s ever admired so or been so afraid of a girl that chases butterflies before.

Orhihime had changed somehow during the fight they’d had with Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Before that she had skittered around fights, even when they’d first been attacked. Uryu had vowed to protect her, but somewhere between the explosion at the start and the wall of gold that signalled the end of the fight she had changed.

Oh, she was still kind. Still gentle. She treated their former enemies with care and healed them back up to their fullest potential. She greeted their strange, rambunctious new allies with smiles and delight.

But when it came time to fight she didn’t hesitate anymore. She picked her target and put them on the ground, missing limbs most of the time. She hadn’t killed anyone since the Mayuri, no one else had deserved he guessed. At least not in her mind.

But she was vicious and determined when she had to be.

She was also, apparently, a frightening hand to hand fighter.

Uryu watched with muted horror as she and the little pink terror cleared the way for the rest of them to march up the hill, where Ichigo was.

“Geez,” Ganju scrubbed his hand over his head. “Why are women so damn scary all the time?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Uryu winced in pity when Orihime slammed someone into a wall with enough force to crack it.

She turned to them with a bubbling smile. “Let’s go! We need to hurry everyone!”

“Yeah,” Yachiru bounced at her side, blood on her tiny knuckles. “Let’s go lets go! Maki Maki let’s gooooo~”

Aramaki gave a long suffering sigh. “It’s not the worst nickname she’s given me… Okay, it’s a le-”

“To the right!” Yachiru declared.

“...we’re gonna be late.”

* *

The werewolf lasts a total of twelve seconds before Kyo goes right back to monologuing. Ichigo almost pities him.

“Of course, once you were here,” he said with only a small under current of smugness, “I assassinated the entire Central 46.”

Ichigo stares at him, and starts laughing.

He can’t help it.

After everything Kyo had told him before about the way this place was run, he’d finally offed them.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told him to ask Robin how to commit a coup?

He can’t help feeling it's partially his own fault, and entirely justified. If no one even questioned the orders sent out they were clearly just as power hungry and arbitrary as Kyo had described, all those years ago.

“Sorry, sorry,” he waves his hand as best as he can, feeling hysterical and worn out in all the worst ways. Somewhere under the betrayal is the twisting need to understand everything. This hogyoku, trapped inside of Rukia, was some kind of super powerful object. He’s getting sick of those.

“Sorry,” he says a third time and finally manages to get himself under control. “Okay, so your grand plan failed. Give me Rukia and we’ll all go our separate ways. Or, no,” he holds up a hand to stop Kyo from speaking. His mind turns. He still knows Kyo. He still knows how he thinks, even if Kyo doesn’t know him anymore. “You’ll have a back up plan.”

Kyo looked mildly miffed at being interrupted.

“You’re impertinent.”

“You know that old man said something like that when I told him to grow a brain, too.”

“...My point stands. All the same, you’re right. There’s another way. Another method developed by Kisuke Urahara. “ Kyo held up a small cylinder and tapped it on Rukia’s chest. A hole opened up.

Ichigo twisted and thrashed. A burst of energy shattered the bindings at last, but by the time Kyo had already pulled out something from Rukia’s chest. Small, faintly glowing and blue.

The energy hit him suddenly. Unshielded, unfettered energy.

The curl of fog. Electricity along his skin. Children lost in the river. Sorrow. A desperate wish for change.

Kyo pulled his fist back to strike Rukia. Ichigo lifted his left hand, pouring power into it. He’d done it a million times before. He’d never done it alone. He’d never done it as a ghost.

“ Gandr! ”

Kyo freezes. Ichigo darts forwards, his hands outstretched. He gets knocked off course at the last second by Gin’s zanpakuto. He ends up stumbling, and wasting precious few seconds while the spell holds. He doesn’t have time to think of the how or the why, only that it works, but now he only has time for one.

Rukia or the Hogyoku.

Rukia or the _______

It’s not even a question. He snatches her off the ground and rolls to protect her body.

He comes to a stop hovering above her, Zangetsu raised in defense.

Kyo twitches back to life a heartbeat after and looks at him with new eyes.

“An interesting kido, I’ve never seen it before,” he says idly. “You really should have taken the Hogyoku. It’s much more valuable than one girls life. Even a noble one.”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that. Kings or rebels, gods or demons, the only part I care about is if they’re my friends. You should know that!”

“Should I?”

The words bite harder than anything else. Ichigo actually flinches.

He opens his mouth to say something before a blur shoots out of nowhere. Yoruichi lands with a knife to Kyo’s throat.

No, he’s not Kyo anymore, is he?

* * *

Kisuke hated having to make the call. He really, really did.

He wanted to have faith in Ichigo, but he was no fool. He knew he needed to be prepared for the worst case scenario. He knew that Ichigo, as bewildering of a child as he was, could still fail against Aizen.

Probably would fail.

But he needed Ichigo for other reasons. He needed him stronger. He needed him more motivated. He needed him to see first hand just what he was up against, and how desperately they needed to put a stop to it.

Ichigo wouldn’t forgive him for his trickery. Another sin Kisuke could live with.

He did have to wonder what was going to happen to Ichigo now. He’s already lost faith with his father. If he hadn’t already he soon will lose faith in Kisuke, and Yoruichi too.

What will happen to an already isolated boy when he’s further pushed away?

“It’s heavy,” Ichigo says, his brown eyes dark and distant. The brilliance he’d displayed during their spars is gone. The vicious gleam and the near recklessness on him is gone, tempered and stamped down.

“Heavy?” Kisuke repeats, eying this boy. Perhaps not as much of a boy as Kisuke had thought. He’s seen eyes like these before.

“The weight of their lives.

So he makes the call and he gathers the army, scant as it is.

* * * *

Kon likes this guy, and the lady too.

She’s terrifying, and she nearly killed him the first (and only) time he tried to cop a feel, but the second she met the girls she basically adopted them. Kon would have left them in the spare house, but neither of them was letting him go anywhere without at least one of them.

They have a trick where they go invisible, it makes it easier for every day life.

The guy is fun. He’s agreeable and gentle, and he doesn’t mind people watching with Kon. Even if he would rather go fishing most days. He’s kinda weird, too, and he insists that Kon practice fighting regularly. Ichigo’s body knows what he’s doing, if nothing else.

They wile away the summer days while waiting for Ichigo to return.

* * * * *

They’re surrounded by people. Enemies and allies, all of them focused the man Ichigo had once called friend. A man he would have trusted with his life. Had , trusted with his life.

Blades gleam in the sunlight and fury weighs heavy across the battlefield. Rukia lies beneath him, her strength vanished, and one man comes to stand between them. His hands are red and raw and his hair is faintly damp but Byakuya puts himself between the pair of them and the traitor.

“He’s surrounded. It’s over now,” Byakuya says surely.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ichigo cuts in. He raises to his knees, then his feet. “He wouldn't come this far without a back up plan.”

The sky splits open. Ichigo hates it when he’s right.

Beams of light encompass the three traitors and throw everyone else aside. They’re untouchable inside of them, and menos grande hover at the mouth of the tear, floating through it. Dragging them up and out of reach.

There’s a buzzing in his ears. Fury roaring under his skin.

“No one starts at the top.”

“I was born in the-”

“From the very start, no one has stood upon the heavens. Not you, not I, nor even gods. However, that intolerable vacuum has come to an end. Henceforth...I shall stand upon the heavens.”

All Ichigo can think as he watches (Kyo) Sousuke get swallowed by a hoard of menos and darkness is just what the fuck happened in the last two hundred years?

“Farewell shinigami, and Ryoka. You were… interesting.”

Brown eyes watch Ichigo, and Ichigo alone as the darkness closes in around him.

* * * * *

#bleach fanfiction #Ichigo Kurosaki #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #gin ichimaru #sosuke aizen #rukia kuchiki #urahara kisuke #uryu ishida

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candy-and-writing · 5 years

Text

Fresh Mountain Air For A Not So Fresh Beginning

Summary: After a mission went horribly wrong, and resulted in you getting hurt and suffering from major PTSD and anxiety, your boys move you to the mountains to heal

Warnings: 18+, implied rape, past rape, PTSD, anxiety attacks, PTSD attacks, smut, oral, minor angst

Taglist: @imsonick @forever-a-cynical @captainn-americaa @natdrunk @patzammit @stupendousshepherdloverpony @thereluctantlady @bangtan-serendipity

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Steve sat on the balcony, hot mug of coffee in hand as he watched Bucky raise the axe and bring it down, chopping the wood into two. The weather was supposed to get bad this week, so he made sure everyone was doing their chores now in case they lost power. You were sitting on the couch, humming along to the radio as you finished folding the laundry. Steve had gone into town for groceries earlier this morning and did the dishes, and Bucky was chopping firewood. You were pretty high up in the mountains, so the forecast wasn't clear on exactly how bad it was supposed to be. If you had to go a few days without running the dishwasher, it would be alright.

Steve came back inside, shutting the screen door behind him. He set his coffee down on the dining table before taking his coat off, moving to hang it up by the door.

"Hey," you said, folding one of Bucky's shirts in your lap. "Buck almost done?"

"He should be, he's got enough wood to keep us warm all winter."

You stopped, a pair of boxers in hand as you looked out the window. "If he doesn't come in soon, you might have to go get him. It looks like the wind's starting to pick up."

Steve nodded, setting his mug in the sink. He'd wait for Bucky to get in and have his coffee before he washed it.

The door that led to the garage opened, Bucky bumping it closed with his backside. He struggled to toe off his shoes, a string of curses leaving his mouth. His arms were full of chopped firewood, his nose and cheeks rosy from the cold. His recent haircut was hidden underneath a woven cap, keeping his ears warm. He was wearing the heavy wool flannel jacket you liked to steal from time to time when you were cold.

"Hey, doll," he greeted, piling the wood on the rack by the fireplace. Steve was right, he chopped enough wood to keep you warm all winter. "How's laundry goin'?"

"I'm almost done," you replied, a warm smile on your face. "If you want me to wash those, though—" you gestured to his clothing, "—you should change. I think I could manage to scrape together another load with the clothes from last night and this morning."

Bucky shrugged. "They're fine, sweetheart, don't worry about it."

Steve asked where Bucky had put the rest of the firewood, he responded with, "out in the garage. Figured it'd stay dry there."

You finished folding the laundry as Bucky warmed up with a cup of coffee, talking to Steve about the impending storm. When he finished his coffee, black with a little bit of sugar, Bucky and Steve met you in the bedroom to help put the clothes away. Bucky put things in drawers, and Steve handed you clothing to hang on hangers. That was what you always did, it was your routine. It worked. And when Buck was done putting the folded clothing away, he helped between handing Steve empty hangers and handing you the hangers that had clothes on them.

It was moments like these that made you forget the reason you moved up here. That made Steve retire early and made Bucky available only for short and sweet missions. The reason you had nightmares and woke up screaming each night, and your boys would struggle to comfort you because you were so stuck in your own head it became difficult to tell what was real.

It would be six months tomorrow, if the calendar was correct. It wasn't marked or anything, but it was easy enough to count down the days, the weeks, when they've been so blatantly haunting you. Like Steve said, one day at a time, and you counted every single day, waiting for it not to hurt anymore.

You had been on a mission with Bucky. Steve was with Sam in a small Siberian town while you two were in Turkey. It was hot and bright and it was sweaty. It's one of the reasons you moved to the mountains, to avoid the heat.

You had been checking out some old HYDRA intel. Bucky thought it was probably nothing, but you needed to be safe rather than sorry. It wasn't a big deal.

It wasn't supposed to be a big deal.

You and Bucky had split up. He took the upper levels and you took the lower ones. You had made it to the basement, so far finding nothing but empty file cabinets, too large of spiders, and outdated technology. Bucky had been sure to tell you to make sure and check that none of the computers worked.

You remembered calling Bucky through your comms. He said he hadn't found anything, and you were about to say the same. You had barely taken two steps into the room when you heard something shift behind you. Before you could turn around there was a sharp pinch in your neck and you winced, stumbling. Your vision became cloudy and your head spinny and you fell over before you even realized it.

When you awoke, Bucky was chained to the wall. You were chained down in the middle of the floor, your uniform gone. You—

"Y/n? Sweetie, you with us?" Bucky's voice dragged you from your thoughts. Steve was looking at you, a hand reached out and eyes full of worry. Bucky wore the same expression.

"Yeah," you smiled. "Sorry, I just blanked for a second. What were you saying?"

Steve continued to look at you with his worrying gaze. You just smiled at him, hopefully convincing him you were fine.

"I'm trying to convince Steve we need a dog," Bucky said. "We talked about it, but Steve still has a stick up his ass."

"I don't have a stick up my ass," Steve argued. You huffed out a laugh. "If we get a dog, we'll have to build a fence. And in moments like this when the weather is bad, we'll have a hard time taking care of it. We've had this discussion, Buck."

"So we invest in a therapy dog, those are a thing, right? It'd be trained, and we can have it to help Y/n. Or myself, Lord knows I need a dog sometimes."

Steve sighed. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Bucky smiled. "I'd be willing to negotiate a cat?"

Steve looked over to you. You just smiled and shrugged. You both knew he wasn't winning this argument.

"We'll look into it after the storm," Steve sighed, defeated.

A smile broke onto your face, Bucky following. "Maybe Pepper can find some shelters?" you suggested.

"Yeah, I'll talk to her."

You kissed his cheek. Bucky pulled him in for a kiss, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into them. He kissed your head, Steve hugging you.

"I want a golden retriever," Steve demanded. You laughed.

"Deal."

••••

You lost power by eight o'clock that night. The wind was howling outside your windows, the blizzard knocking against the glass. You were eating ice cream and drinking the bottle of wine Steve had bought for date night when the TV shut down and the lights turned off all at once.

Steve had lit as many candles as he could while Bucky gathered your collection of many blankets. You sat on the floor, wine in hand and wrapped in a knitted blue throw while playing a game of Monopoly.

"That's bullshit!" Bucky shouted, throwing his hands up. "That's the fourth time I've landed on this stupid thing. Y/n, baby, please, you gotta help me out here."

You giggled. "I'm not trading this property with you, Buck. Not unless you give me an offer."

"Come on," Bucky whined, "work with me, baby."

Your eyes widened as your mind flashed back to that night, back to the basement. Come on, baby, work with me. You felt his hands on you, his fingers creeping up your skin. Bucky watched the color drain from your face, tears prickling at your eyes.

"Doll?" When you didn't respond, Steve realized what was happening.

"Shit, Buck, she's having a flashback." Steve stood, swiftly tucking his arm under your knees and picking you up.

It'll feel real nice, baby, just relax.

"I'll put her playlist on, can I do anything else?"

Steve was careful to set you on the bed, still cradling you and wiping the tears from your cheeks. Even in the dim lighting of the candles, he could see the fear in your eyes. "Warm a kettle over the fire, we can make her some hot chocolate."

Bucky nodded before rushing out of the room. You were shaking now, struggling to catch your breath.

"It's alright, baby, it's okay," Steve cooed. "You're safe, you're home. No one can hurt you, you're safe." He gave you a quick squeeze, his arms tightening around you.

He went through the list your therapist gave them back at the compound. Soft music, check. Dark room, check. Tight hug or pressure from Steve or Bucky, check. The weighted blanket was under the bed, he could have Bucky grab it if you wanted it.

Get her to open up, don't let her close herself off.

"Sweetie, I need you to talk to me," Steve uttered. "I can help get you through this, you just need to talk to me, to us."

You took a couple shaky breaths, opening your mouth before closing it again.

"The. . . the basement—I—and. . . and Bucky—"

"Buck is just fine, sweetheart," Steve answered, smiling slightly. "He's making you some hot chocolate."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and watery. "He is?"

"Yeah, he should be in any minute."

You mouthed a silent 'oh' and curled back into Steve's chest. Bucky stepped in the bedroom quietly, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. He handed the black and gold star-spangled mug to Steve—it was your favorite, you claimed it reminded you of both your boys. Your hands shook as you took the mug from Steve, your grip lax and careful as you took a small sip. You mumbled a small thank you and looked at Bucky, who gave you a sad, small smile.

"Keep talking, sweetheart," Steve whispered into your hair. "Can you tell me five things you see around you?"

He heard you swallow, gathering your voice, and you started looking at the room around you.

"I, um—I see Bucky," you said, your voice unsure. "I can see your shirt. . . the painting you made for me for my birthday, the wall, and the lamp."

"Good," Steve praised, "that's good. Tell me four things you can touch around you?"

You took another sip of the hot chocolate, the hint of cinnamon leaving a ghost of a smile on your face. "I'm touching my favorite mug, the one Bucky got me for Christmas last year. I'm touching the bedsheets. . . I'm touching you and your shirt by leaning on you, and if I reached I could touch Bucky."

Bucky reached out and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the skin below your knuckles. You sighed, relishing in his touch. He asked you to name three things you could hear, Steve kissing your temples.

"I can hear your voice, I can hear Steve's heartbeat, and. . . and I can hear the wind outside."

"You're doing so good, doll, we're almost done. Name two things you can smell?"

You thought for a moment, inhaling to smell your surroundings. "I can smell. . . the hot chocolate you made me, with the cinnamon in it. And. . . I can smell Steve's cologne."

"One thing you can taste?"

The hot chocolate, you replied. Steve smiled and kissed your forehead, hugging you as Bucky squeezed your hand.

"How do you feel?"

"Better," you sighed. You clenched and unclenched your hand, your nerves tightening after the anxiety started to fall. Your head ached, your brain pounding at your temples. "I'm sorry I. . . freaked out."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, sweetheart," Bucky said. "We just want to make sure you're alright." You nodded, closing your eyes as you focused on Steve's heartbeat jumping steadily through his sweater.

"Can you tell us what caused this?" Steve asked. You were silent for a long moment, thinking back. You weren't quite sure yourself—one second you were drinking wine in the living room with Bucky and Steve, and the next you were in bed, clutching onto Steve because you couldn't breathe.

"I think—I think Bucky said something," you said. "Something that. . . that he had said and it just—it made me spiral."

"I'm so sorry, doll," Bucky said, kissing your knuckles as he looked at you apologetically.

"What did he say?" Steve asked.

You shook your head. "I don't know." You pushed your mug into Steve's hands, and he set in on the nightstand by the side of the bed. Your hands covered your face as you stifled a sob.

"Come here, sweetheart." Steve's heart broke as he hugged you closer to his chest. Bucky crawled over to the empty space on the bed next to you and rested his hand on your stomach, kissing your head. "Talk to us."

"I thought I could get past this," you told them, crying. "I—I can still feel him, I can still feel his hands on me and I don't know how to get it to stop!"

Steve looked over to Bucky, who looked back at him sadly. It was hard, seeing their best girl like this, and they were never quite sure how to help you. You didn't like them touching you a certain way after you were attacked, but maybe—just maybe—that was what you needed.

"How 'bout Stevie and I try something different tonight?" Bucky said, running his hand up and down your arm.

"Like what?" you sniffled.

"We know you haven't wanted us to touch you since. . . you know, but do you think that would help?" Steve asked, looking down at you. "You keep feeling him on you, maybe we can help wipe him away? We're willing to wait as long as you need us to, baby, we just want to help you."

"I—I don't know."

"Are you willing to try?" Bucky whispered against your temple. "If you don't like it, tell us and we'll stop. Is that okay?"

You thought for a moment, nodding carefully. Steve placed a chaste kiss on your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Are you sure? We don't want to pressure you—if you don't feel comfortable doing this, we won't."

You shook your head. "I want to try. I want to see if I can do it. . . please."

More than anything, you wanted to please your boys. You wanted them to be happy and proud of you, you craved their appraisal like an addict craved pills. You weren't sure this was going to work, but you wanted to try, you'd try anything just to be able to feel Steve and Bucky touch you again.

Steve placed his hands under your arms, lifting you and shifting you so you sat in between his legs. Bucky crawled so he kneeled over you, and suddenly you were trapped. But that was okay, you were safe. You were with the two people you trusted the most, and you trusted they'd take care of you.

Bucky cupped your cheek with his hand, bringing you in for a soft kiss. Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned into his touch, Steve trailing kisses down your neck. You hesitantly moved your lips against Bucky's, placing your hands on his face and bringing him closer to you. You let out a whimper as Bucky licked your lips, asking for access. You allowed it, opening your mouth and letting his tongue roam with yours. He pushed you against Steve's chest, your back collided with solid muscle, Steve's hands trailing up under your sweater. You shuddered at the warmth, at the ghost-like touches he left in his wake as Bucky buried his hands through your hair.

It was almost too much, their touches, the way they were everywhere all at once. Their touch burned, but in a good way, almost. You didn't want them to stop. If they stopped now, you were certain you'd combust.

"Can I take this off?" Steve husked against your ear, tugging at your sweater. You nodded, and he was quick to pull it over your head, leaving you in your push-up bra.

Steve bit back a groan, nibbling on your ear as Bucky trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw. You whined out a moan, Steve grabbing at your breasts. A spark of panic shot through you and your eyes shot open. You pulled away from Steve, pushing Bucky away.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart," Steve cooed, reaching out to grab your arm. "It's okay. You're okay, baby. It's just me."

Your chest fell and rose heavily. Bucky cupped your cheek, kissing your nose. "It's just us, doll. You're safe. . . . Do we need to stop?"

You looked up at him. You didn't want to stop, you wanted to enjoy them, you wanted to make then feel good. But this damn sense of panic wasn't going away.

"I want to keep going," you told them, eyes watery. "I want to make you feel good, I want to feel good. I just. . . can't stop this."

"Just relax, baby," Bucky muttered. "Focus on us. On our touch. Know that it's us and just focus on how good we'll make you feel."

You nodded, leaning back against Steve's chest. You told him he could touch you again, guiding his hands to your chest. He added the slightest pressure and squeezed, your breasts in his hands as you shuddered out a breath.

"Oh."

"That feel good, baby?" Steve asked, kissing your neck as Bucky attacked the other side. You nodded, sighing as you melted into his touch. "I bet it does, sweetheart. I can't imagine how you feel, not being able to let us make you feel good. We're here now, we're gonna take real good care of you."

"I love you," you sighed, digging your nails into Bucky's hair. "Both of you."

"We love you too, doll." Bucky kissed down your collar bone, his lips at the edge of your bra. Steve reached and unclipped your bra, letting it slide down your shoulders. Bucky was quick to dispose of it, throwing it to the floor. "You're so beautiful, baby."

You cried out Bucky's name as his lips latched onto your nipple, Steve rolling the other one between his fingertips. You focused on your boys, on the sensation of Bucky—of his tongue swirling against your hardened bud, of his hand cupping your cheek, of his hand in your hair. You focused on Steve—on his hands, on the solid muscle behind your back, of the feeling of his hair in your fingers.

Bucky's hand fell to your pants. "Can I take these off, baby?"

You nodded, afraid to use your voice. He unbuckled your jeans, slowly sliding them down your legs, off your feet. You had on cheeky lace underwear. Suddenly, you thought back to when you used to wear much less conservative underwear. Steve and Bucky always liked those—your decorative thongs, your favorite pair used to be lace with flowers. You got rid of them after you were attacked, but maybe you could get some new, less casual ones.

Bucky licked his lips, staring at your clothed core. Steve's hands kneaded at your breasts, thumb brushing over your nipple as he kissed a line on your shoulder. Bucky was quick to pull at your underwear, leaving you completely exposed.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Steve asked quietly. You nodded, keeping eyes on Bucky.

Bucky looked up at you, eyes dark. The flickering flame casted a reflection upon his face, giving him a goldish glow. The wind howled outside, ice hitting the window. Normally, that sound would've had you jumping three feet into the air in terror, but now you couldn't care less—too caught up in the way Bucky's eyes darkened as he asked for permission. When you nodded, he slid down, laying on his stomach, and dove in.

You had almost forgotten what it felt like to have Bucky's tongue wrapped around your clit. You moaned as he licked up in a broad swipe, focusing the tip of his tongue on your bud. Steve massaged your chest, tweaking your nipples and running over them with the pads of his fingers.

"Oh, God. . ." you whined. "Keep going, please. Don't—don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, princess," Steve moaned.

Bucky continued to work his mouth on you until you were burning, writhing and struggling in both his and Steve's grasps. You were sure you were going to explode. When Bucky entered a finger into you, you cried out. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"How's that feel, baby?" Steve cooed, hands focusing on your breasts. "Buck doin' good?"

You nodded frantically. Steve chuckled in your ear, voice gravelly and low.

"Buck here almost couldn't wait any longer, all we wanted to do was get his mouth on you, sweetheart. It's what he dreamed about when he touched himself, when he sucked me off. He's been waiting for this."

Bucky hummed into your flesh, sending vibrations up through your clit. He was careful as he pushed a second finger into you, looking for the spot inside you that could shatter you. That coil inside you was tight, threatening to explode and send you over the edge. You began to babble, endless pleas of 'don't stop,' and 'Bucky, please.'

He pushed the pads of his fingers up, still teasing your bundle of nerves and that was all it took. You cried out, the coil snapping like a taught rubber band and you grinded back into Steve as you tried to pull away, overstimulated. Steve shushed you, whispering in your ear as Bucky rode you from your high until it was simply too much. You whined, your voice cracking, and Bucky seemed to get the message. He pulled away, his chin slick with your juices. Still blissed out, he hooked his finger under your chin, bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, salty and tangy.

You didn't realize you were crying until Bucky wiped away a tear. "You okay, doll?"

You nodded. "Yeah. . . yeah, I just—I hadn't realized how much I missed this. I'm sorry I made you wait on me."

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart," Steve said, kissing your cheek. "We'd wait as long as you needed us to."

You sat up, turning so you straddled Steve's lap. You hung your arms over his shoulders, brushing your noses together.

"Can you do something for me?" you asked, your voice low and sultry in post-orgasmic bliss.

"Anything," Steve answered, ask too quickly.

"I want you to fuck me. I want you to erase any memory of that man inside of me. Can you do that?"

"Happily."

He kissed you then, loving and dominant and so incredibly Steve. Bucky kissed up your neck, sucking a deep red spot next to the many Steve had left. You whimpered into Steve's lips, dragging your hands up his shirt. He pulled away for a second, discarding his shirt and sitting up on his knees, shimmying off his pants. He turned you around before settling back down, having you straddle his thighs.

"You sure you're up for this, baby?" Bucky asked, kissing behind your ear as his fingers danced around your nipples.

You nodded, whining. "I—I can do it."

Steve hummed, feeling himself brush against your folds. Bucky gave you his signature dorky smile, which you returned as best you could. Steve eased into you slowly, both men watching for any sign of discomfort. You were wet enough, but you were still awfully tight. Tighter than usual. Even after your orgasm, Steve was having a hard time fitting himself inside you.

The three of you haven't had sex since before the attack. Bucky and Steve had quick shower sex in the morning sometimes after a run, when they were sure you were still asleep, but they didn't like doing it without you. You were apart of them, doing such an intimate act without you didn't feel right.

Steve groaned at the feeling, the silky heat of you clutching him like a vice. He grunted, wrapping an arm around your front and hugging you close to his chest, carefully rocking his hips up. His thrusts start out slow and deep, until you're writhing and mewling for more.

Bucky crawls up and straddles both you and Steve, his tongue curling around your nipple. He wraps his tongue around your bud, sucking lightly. You let out a whimper, moaning as Steve speeds his pace up, pounding into you in the most delicious way. Bucky guides your hand and wraps it around his cock, moving it up and down in long, slow strokes. You withdrew your hand like he had burned you, your eyes wide. Steve stills inside you, watching your back muscles tense.

"It's okay, doll, it's just me. . . . Do we need to stop?"

You blinked. "No, no—I'm okay. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "Please, I want to keep going, I can do this." You reached out and grabbed for his length, your nimble fingers wrapping around him.

It's just Bucky, he won't hurt you. You're safe here.

Quickly, you fall into the rhythm Steve has set, your other hand moving to clutch Bucky's shoulder as he fucks into your hand.

It's easy, the three of you moving in tandem. You don't know how long it's been, how long either of them have touched you like this, or when you last touched them. You feel guilty now, forgetting something that made you feel so good.

"Steve," you moan. "Bucky, please."

"You're doing so good, baby," Bucky praised. "You—ah, fuck—you feel so good."

You whined, Steve picking up his pace. You weren't going to last much longer, not with Steve pounding into you the way he is, not with him groaning in your ear and not with Bucky using your hand to get himself off.

"Can I come inside, baby?" Steve moans. "Fill you up, wash out every memory of that day. Fuck—we're gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, all you have to do is let us."

"Yes," you nodded frantically. "Yes, please, please. I need you. Come inside, please, Stevie."

Bucky reached down and rubbed at your clit, sending you over the edge. You screamed, seizing up and convulsing around Steve's cock. Steve cursed, feeling you pulsate around him. He came with a grunt, coating your walls with his cum. Bucky finished soon after, covering your stomach with his cum.

You released Bucky, falling back against Steve in exhaustion. When you opened your eyes again, Steve was petting your hair while Bucky cleaned up his mess with a wet washcloth. Steve whispered sweet nothings in your ear, running his fingers through your sweat soaked locks.

I'm so proud of you.

You did so good.

So perfect for us.

We love you.

After Bucky tossed the cloth in the wicker laundry basket, he laid down in the space next to you, hugging you close to his chest. Your hand rested across Steve's pecs, your head above his heartbeat.

"You did so well, sweetheart," Bucky purred, tracing circles along your back. "How do you feel?"

"Good," you hummed, snuggling closer to Steve's warmth. "Real good."

"That's amazing, baby," Steve murmured. "Did it help any?"

You nodded. It helped a lot, actually. The throbbing between your legs was welcoming, euphoria coursing through veins. You hated yourself for connecting your boys with the kind of hate you experienced, for making them wait so long.

"Let's go to sleep, doll." Bucky kissed your shoulder. "We can talk more in the morning, if we have power I'll make some waffles."

You hummed in content, sleep overtaking you. Bucky wrapped an arm around your middle, with Steve wrapping his arm behind you both.

"I love you."

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

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One In A Million - Chpt.6

Summary: Rose spends an idyllic holiday season with the guys before tragedy strikes, threatening to disrupt the timeline that Rose is trying so hard to keep on course.

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We’re in full swing relationship mode now and I just adore the whole “stucky x reader” set up. Prepare yourself for sweet fluff and a pinch of angst before even sweeter fluff. Because ya’ll should know by now that’s my jam lol. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Six

Dating the guys turns out to be very similar to what you had been doing up until that point. They come over every other day, sometimes every day if your schedules align. In public Steve is your boyfriend and you happily chit chat with the girls at the office who all are curious about how smitten you are with the tiny, shy, artist. There’s always that ache in your chest though, when you want to share something about Bucky but can’t. He’s your boyfriend’s best friend and while you can tell the occasional story about the three of you hanging out, there’s so much you can’t share. The truth is, Bucky is actually the sweeter of the two. He’s desperately affectionate and tactile with you and Steve. While Steve will spend an afternoon drawing something in his sketch pad, Bucky isn’t happy unless he’s tangled around you like an octopus. You indulge him often, surprised by how easy it is to be close with him. Steve jokes that it’s nice having someone else for Bucky to throw himself on for a change. Not that Steve isn’t affectionate, but he’s more like a cat; coming to you in infrequent bursts when the mood strikes him.

The holidays come and go quietly. Bucky and Steve head up to visit Bucky’s family for a few days and you stay home eagerly awaiting their return. You made them promise not to get anything but they both show up on your doorstep with gifts in hand when they get back. Steve gives you a sketch of the three of you sprawled out on the sofa together. It’s beautifully done and you promise to keep it on your bedside table. Bucky gives you a pair of the thick woolly socks you steal from him whenever you spend time at their place. They’re your favorite and you’re touched knowing he put a lot of thought into your gift. You grumble about them spending money on you but they ignore it, doing the same when they unwrap their packages.

You had wanted to get them things they wouldn’t have bought for themselves. Steve has to stop halfway through thanking you for his new art supplies, choking up with emotion until he finally just pulls you in his arms for a hug that lasts for what feels like forever. Bucky actually is rendered speechless by his coat and gloves. He showers you with kisses when his brain finally catches up and you know he’s appreciative of the gift. He had gone without a new coat for a few years now, his getting more worn and threadbare each season. Bucky always claimed getting a warm coat for Steve was the priority, letting his own wait even when it really couldn’t. The gloves were likewise necessary. His hands were always chapped from the bitter cold and dampness down at the docks and they couldn’t afford good leather gloves that would keep his hands dry.

The three of you spend the whole weekend in your apartment, snuggled safely away from the world. The guys are both gentlemen through and through, volunteering to take the sofa and the floor to sleep on. You know girls aren’t supposed to be so free in the ‘40s but you can’t possibly let them sleep uncomfortably when you have a bed big enough for the three of you to sleep in. Bucky caves first, pointing out that Steve has enough health problems without him sleeping badly and aggravating his back. You lead them both down the hall to your bed where they slip in next to you like they belong there. Bucky claims the middle, the prime cuddling spot, or so he claims, leaving you and Steve to trade amused grins over him.

New Years Eve and Day are spent at their apartment, Steve claiming it’s only fair since they celebrated Christmas at yours. He cooks up a small hunk of corned beef, simmering it slowly all day with cabbage, potatoes, and other root vegetables he was able to get on sale. It’s quite different than the pork and sauerkraut you’re used to but you go along with their traditions without complaint. You sit around dreaming up plans for 1942 together, places to go and things to do. Bucky mentions the rink at Rockefeller center, everyone has been talking about it since it opened a few years ago and it’s supposed to be quite an experience. Steve agrees it would be a good time and tells Bucky they should start saving now so they can take you before spring comes. You shake your head, “Why wait?” you ask them, “It’s probably still decorated from Christmas. What better time to go than when it’s at it’s best? We can go tomorrow.”

Steve sighs, a tight smile on his face. “We’re just dreamin’, doll. As much as we want to take you, that place is for those fancy Manhattan folks. Last I heard, it was a dollar a skate and then we have the subway cost to get there and back.”

“So I’ll pay for it, I don’t care. I want to take you two out and do something fun. Start the new year off right.”

The pinched look on Steve’s face deepens, “We don’t need your charity…”

“My what!?” you bark at him. Bucky has inched back, wisely staying out of the escalating argument. He has enough sisters to know that Steve is not winning this one.

“I know this isn’t the most traditional relationship but you gotta let us take care of you, doll. Like a man should.”

“Steven. Grant. Rogers.” you grit out in outrage, “If I want to take you out I damn well will. Don’t start with that antiquated, patriarchal, misogynistic bullshit!”

Steve flushes, his cheeks burning brightly, and he stands up from his seat on the sofa to storm off to his bedroom where he slams the door behind him.

Bucky shoots you a raised eyebrow, making sure he isn’t in trouble by association. You shake your head and sit back heavily, worried you ruined New Years Day.

“He’ll be okay, just give him a minute to calm down.” Buck assures you, “You and I both know Stevie supports the women’s rights movement but it’s still a hard habit to break, wanting to take care of our best gal.”

You climb into Bucky’s arms, wanting the comfort it brings you, “I’m sorry for ruining the holiday.”

“You didn’t ruin a thing. Just give him a few more minutes and then go talk to him. You have to understand, we didn’t grow up with money. I know you did so it’s not something you worry about, but that’s hard for us to adjust to.”

You snuggle in against him, letting the minutes slip by until you can go to Steve and make things right.

When you do finally go to him, Steve is staring out the window, brow furrowed under the weight of his thoughts. You apologize, and so does he. You both know your hearts were in the right place even if it doesn’t always come out that way.

The next day you take your guys ice skating at Rockefeller Center just like you had wanted to. They insist on buying lunch and you let them, a quiet compromise to keep everyone happy. You skate for hours until your legs are weak and your fingertips and noses are frozen from the cold. Bucky fusses over both of you the whole way home, worried you’ll catch your death. It was the best day you can remember having in years, and one you’ll cherish the memory of forever. It was also the last good day you had together before it all went to hell.

xxXxx

Bucky’s concern over Steve or you getting sick turns out to be legitimate. Two days after your trip Steve is coughing deep and rough, his asthmatic lungs not faring well against the illness he’s caught. By the third day he’s in bed with a fever that climbs faster than the medicine can work. Bucky can’t take the time off work, not if he wants to keep a roof over their heads, and so you call out from the SSR office, letting them know your boyfriend is not well.

Seeing Steve suffering is a new level of hell. He’s sweaty from the fever, shaking from chills, and the cough in his chest could wake the dead. It’s amazing his body doesn’t just shatter apart from the force of it. You stay by his side, giving him sips of warm broth and tea when he can manage and reading to him from his favorite books. After a week he looks like a skeleton, shrunken on himself and devoid of the liveliness he normally radiates with. Bucky calls the doctor then, scared of the cost but more afraid of losing the love of his life.

You can’t help but blame yourself. You knew Steve was prone to getting sick but you had pushed to go skating with them. It was selfish, so selfish, and now Steve was paying the price. Bucky tries to soothe your fears and guilt, reminding you Steve caught pneumonia just by stepping outside most years. You put on your bravest face and smile so Bucky will have one less thing to worry about, but it doesn’t alleviate your guilt in the least. There’s also the undercurrent of fear that you’ve messed up the timelines now and ruined everything. He has to pull through. He has to, so he can go be Captain America and save the world, you tell yourself.

Bucky won’t let you pay for the doctor who comes or the medicine he prescribes. You argue over it briefly but Bucky insists he saves for things like this and they’ll be fine. Steve comes out of it a few days later, the new medicine doing its job at last.

“Hey,” Steve croaks, his voice rough from disuse.

Your eyes fly up from the book you’re reading to meet bright blue eyes that are focusing on you for the first time in ten days. “Steve.” you squeak out through the tightness in your throat. You can’t contain your relief. “Oh honey, I thought we were gonna lose you.” you sob.

Steve reaches out with a painfully thin hand, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“God, I was so scared.”

“Come on, get in here with me if you can stand the smell.” he jokes weakly.

You carefully climb into bed with him, pulling him close until you’re lying flush against one another. You stroke the sweat sticky hair from his face, running your fingers over the sharp bones of his cheeks. Steve is too worn out to protest as you sprinkle kisses across his face.

“If this is the treatment for whatever I had, sign me up for another round.”

You frown at him fiercely. “Don’t even joke. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry.”

“I’ve done nothing else for ten days. I can’t lose you, I love you.” Tears are still falling from your eyes but you catch the change in Steve’s expression. You hadn’t even realized you said I love you out loud, having repeated it so often in your head while at his bedside that it feels natural now.

“You love me, huh?” his eyes shine with amazement, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” you admit, not wanting to take it back now that the truth is out.

“I love you too, Rose. Does Bucky know yet?”

“I haven’t said it to him yet. I will though, tonight.”

“Make sure I’m there when you do. I’m sure he’ll react much better than when I said it to him the first time.” he huffs out a weak laugh and you reach back to get him a cup of tea from the side table. Steve sips slowly, letting his body adjust. “Do you wanna guess what that jerk said to me when I told him I was in love with him?”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“I was fifteen and he was sixteen. It was summer and we were flush after he got his first paycheck from helping sweep up at the docks where his dad worked. We spent the day at Coney Island eating hot dogs and riding the ferris wheel until they kicked us off. We were sitting down on the beach watching the waves as the moon came up, everyone else had left by then, and I realized it was the moment I’d been waiting for. I looked over at him and said ‘I love you, Buck’ to which the idiot said ‘love you too, pal.” easy as could be. So I told him ‘I’m in love with you.” and the great buffoon shoved at me and said “You do not!”. So then I shoved at him back and we ended up rolling around scrapping on the beach until finally, one of us let up. It wasn’t until we’d gotten home to my place that said he was in love with me too.”

“That’s terrible and wonderful. I love it.” you tell him.

“I never thought we’d find someone like you. I can’t believe I got this lucky twice.”

You blush at his words, unable to believe his love for you could be even remotely close to his feelings for Bucky.

“What time is it?” Steve asks squinting at the clock.

“Quarter after four.” you reach to the nightstand for his glasses so he can see for himself too.

“I hate to ask this of you, but could you help me to the bathroom? I could really use a shower.”

“Honey, it’s okay. Bucky and I have been taking turns caring for you so it’s no big deal.”

“Great. Not exactly the first impression I’d like to leave when you see me naked the first time.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” you scold him as you let him support himself on you to stand, “If you think for one minute I’m going to see something I don’t like when I look at you, you’re crazy.”

Steve grumbles but decides he wants to be clean more than he wants to act tough. You half help, half carry Steve into the bathtub, setting him down carefully inside it while you get the water nice and warm. He tries to wash himself but his arms are shaking after a minute and you take over washing his hair for him, getting it nice and clean for the first time in over a week. The bath exhausts Steve and he naps while you make dinner, barely keeping his eyes open to dry off.

Bucky is ecstatic when you tell him Steve was awake and talking earlier. He barely stops to give you a kiss before he’s barging into the bedroom to see Steve. You join them a little while later, eating dinner in bed on trays so that Steve can rest but still be included. He’s sleeping again before he even finishes his soup, his tray whisked away to let him rest peacefully between you and Bucky. You talk quietly over him, catching up on your days and sharing in your relief that he’s finally improved.

“Thank you for helping me care for him. It got really bad this time. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Bucky says again, grateful for all your help over the past week.

“It was no problem. I love him, of course I wanted to take care of him when he’s sick.”

Bucky looks over, surprised. “You love him, huh?”

“I do.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s easy to love.” Bucky looks down at Steve with such sweetness it’s hard for you not to jump over Steve and kiss him.

“Hey Buck.” you catch his attention again.

“Hmm?” he finally looks over at you.

“I love you too.”

Bucky smiles wide and warm like the sun. “You do, huh?”

“Yep.” you chew on your lip, waiting for his next move.

“It’s a good thing then. ‘Cause I love you too.” Bucky gets up, coming around to your side of the bed where he can pull you up into his arms.

“I love you.” you whisper between kisses.

“I love you, so much doll.” he replies, burying his face into the curve of your neck.

“Ah shit. Steve wanted to be awake for that.” you groan.

“What? Why?” Bucky asks with a chuckle.

“He wanted to make sure you didn’t shove me after I said it.”

“Oh no, he told you the story!” Bucky is cringing, embarrassed by the memory.

“It’s sweet.” you assure him.

Bucky starts trailing kisses up your throat again and you sink into his embrace, letting yourself enjoy the contact after a week of tense worry.

Steve really will be okay, you’re sure of that now. The timeline is intact despite all of your involvement in their lives and you just have to get through the next four months without disrupting anything else. Though how you are going to walk away from the two of them is getting more and more complicated.

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz

#one in a million #steve rogers #bucky barnes #reader insert #named reader #captain america #stucky #stucky fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #time travel #1940s setting #marvel #marvel fanfic #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

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supposed2bfunny · 4 years

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Yoo it’s me & you got me thinking. So 2D,spoiled only child,not real thoughtful(prob didn’t realize his mum did his laundry til he moved out and his laundry wasn’t magically clean anymore) & Murdoc leaves little candies and things in his pockets/around the house for him. Phase 5, Murdoc’s in jail. Suddenly there’s no candy around for him all the time. He’s confused about this until Noodle is like “who do you think did all that stuff for you?” What do you think that realization is like for him?

Uhhhh this may have expanded beyond anything I had in mind when you sent this ask hours ago, nips. Short ficlet under the cut!

It’s the second or third day after Ace moves in and the band moves forward with the new album that 2D finds the last vestige of Murdoc lurking on his things like a smelly miasma. He pulls on a worn sports jacket, a gift from FILA from 2013 or 2014, slips his hands into the pockets, and finds something heavy and metallic lurking in the right-side pocket.

Pulling it out, he beholds a silver ring bearing a skull, the sort of thing Marilyn Manson would have pulled off well in the 90s, that gothic bulkiness in which Murdoc has always aspired to look cool in and has never quite succeeded.

After a moment’s inspection, 2D does the logical thing: he hurls the ring down the staircase of the Spirit House, grinning with satisfaction at the sound of it bouncing off the wooden floors below and rolling away to be forgotten amongst debris and clutter and apathy.

“Tosser,” he mutters to himself.

The weeks wear on. Recording goes well, the band gets on just fine, and 2D does not think about Murdoc.

However, he does suffer a few completely unrelated hang-ups that put the faintest damper on his otherwise now-near-perfect and tosser-free existence.

Primarily in the loss of surprise candy.

He wonders for the first time where all the sweets have gone.

And this leads him down the rabbit hole of wondering where they came from for the first time. For as long as he can remember, 2D has always been pleasantly surprised by hard candies, lemon sherbets, blue-raspberry lollies, Jelly Babies, even the rare Cadbury Creme Egg in the pockets of his jackets, or in his jeans, sometimes tucked into his beanies or even shoved into his pillowcases. Sort of like a tooth fairy has graced him at random times, leaving behind his preferred snacks. Good omens, if ever there was such a thing.

It’s always reminded him of the way his mum used to leave Flake bars on his pillow after doing her weekly shopping, even when his dad went through his health kicks and tried to ban sweets from the house.

He doesn’t exactly notice the loss until he’s standing in line at the market one day, purchasing several boxes of his preferred frozen chana masala dinners, when he impulsively grabs a few chocolate bars on his way to check out.

It’s only then that it occurs to him he hasn’t found any mystery goodies lying around for him in several weeks. Where had they come from in the first place, he muses. Noodle? Maybe Russel?

It doesn’t seem likely that Russel was giving them out, since he prefers to cook whole meals himself to serve the band. That leaves Noodle. And why wouldn’t she be sharing candy with him these days? Are they having a row?

As he makes his way home, he ponders what he could have done wrong to upset Noodle. She’d seemed perfectly fine the other day when they went out for bubble tea. She’d even laughed when he’d sucked the boba through the thick straw by sticking it between the gap between his front teeth. Things had seen positively chilly between them!

Being the brave, no-nonsense man that he is, and the de facto leader of the band now that the tosser is locked up for lord-knew-what, he figures he ought to confront her about it straightaway.

So he gives it a couple of days, in case she needs to blow off steam or cool down. Then a few more days, figuring she can approach him first to apologize, he should really be the bigger man. Then he gives it yet a few more days, just to be sure they are in fact having a row. Because rehearsals seem normal. Noodle’s spirits seem as high as ever, her Instagram posts emoji-saturated, her smiles genuine, her laughter nonstop as she develops a close bond with Ace and the two become inseparable.

Finally, he bumps into her one night: they’re nothing reaching for their preferred coconutmilk ice cream sometime past two in the morning.

“Great minds think alike,” she smiles. “I’ll grab the bowls.”

“Hey, Noods,” he says, leaning back against the counter casually and popping the carton open. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s up, Dee?”

“Are you...aw, it’s gonna sound so silly! You ready to laugh? You’re not cross with me, are you?”

She hands him a bowl and spoon and gets scooping. “Cross with you? Not at all--” he nearly drops his bowl in relief--”why do you ask?”

“Nah, forget it. What’s Ace say? Fuggeddaboutit?”

She pulls a face. “That was a really shitty accent.”

“Aint that the point?”

“I guess,” she concedes. “Anyway, I want to know why you thought I was cross with you: just tell me!”

“Well...I guess I kind of miss the candy you always shared with me.”

Noodle pops her spoon into her mouth, sits on the kitchen table and crosses one leg over the other. “Huh? What candy?”

“I mean, you’re the sweet tooth queen, Noods! You always have candies on you, and you used to share ‘em with me. And I guess I miss it a little bit.”

“When did I last share candy with you?” she asks. “It’s been like, a million years since I placed one of those bulk orders of the good stuff from Japan that I like.”

“No, no, not any Japanese candy. I just mean like, Jelly Babies and stuff. You used to leave ‘em in my coat pockets, or sitting out on my keyboards to surprise me. Like, rewind a month or so ago, you’d do it all the time.”

“No I wouldn’t,” she answers, looking thoroughly perplexed.

“But...” he frowns down at his ice cream. It’s too cold still, hasn’t begun to get all good and melty the way he likes it. Just a lump of chill and ice. “Then who did?”

“You mean the little presents Murdoc always used to leave out for you? 2D, that was all Murdoc.”

There’s a pause as 2D continues to leer down at his bowl, almost forgetting that he’s not alone in the room. He remembers the skull ring he’d found and thrown. He remembers the candies sitting on the bench by his piano in the basement, the comic books rolled up and jammed into the case of his acoustic guitar, the comic books he has no memory of purchasing though they feature his favorite heroes. He remembers the fidget cube he’d found one day in his sock drawer, and the Cadbury Creme Eggs next to his condoms by the bedside.

“Hey,” Noodle’s voice draws him back out. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Everything’s fine, luv.”

She arches a brow at him; she knows he only calls her that when he's unfocused. “It’s okay to miss him, you know,” she says gently. “Sometimes I do too. He was pretty indulgent towards you, when he wanted to be. Can’t blame you for missing that.”

“Yeah right,” he forces a chuckle. “Think we’re all doing better with that sod out of the band for a bit. I’m having a nice time stretching my legs, so to speak. Really, I’m much happier these days, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Okay,” she responds, and she sounds patronizing, but maybe it’s just his imagination. “I’m gonna go finish the movie I started,” she hops off the counter, leaving him to his thoughts. “G’night.”

“’Kay, night!” He sits down at the table properly, intending to finish his dessert. But while it melts, he figures he has time for a smoke. He pats his pants pockets, realizes he doesn’t have any cigarettes on him. Murdoc always had ciggies with him, no matter where he was, no matter what level of dress or undress he was in. These days, 2D often finds himself with smokes but no lighter, or playing with a lighter but lacking in smokes.

Not in the mood to get up to find some, he instead sits there, fiddles with his spoon. It seems wrong to qualify Murdoc’s behavior as kindness, given that the word is so contradictory to his entire persona. Murdoc is not kind. Never has been. Murdoc is a tosser, a criminal, an impulsive crackhead with a tendency to make decisions that hurt those around him.

A selfish prick...whose arbitrary actions have unwittingly brought him joy for months, years, shit, he can’t remember when he first started noticing these little treats and presents left out for him, like a corvid collecting bottle caps for a preferred human companion.

He hates Murdoc then, not for his cruelty and nasty behavior, but for his capacity to defy his own constructed persona.

Sometime deep into these thoughts, he realizes that his ice cream has melted beyond the point of being softened and melty: it’s just a puddle of coconutmilk soup with a caramel swirl. It’s also lukewarm. It’s also approaching four in the morning.

Joints cracking as he stands, 2D brings his bowl to the sink, then approaches the bottom of the staircase. He pulls up the flashlight on his cellphone, casts it around the foyer and the living room, peaks under unpacked boxes of records and ottomans collecting dust and many, many, many pairs of shoes.

He doesn’t find that ring he’d thrown. Eventually, he gives up looking and heads to bed.

For the first time since he’d received a phone call from the local police station, he dreams of Murdoc, wakes up with crusty eyes and tight lungs and stares at the ceiling for a long time. He feels less like the leader of the band then, and more like a wayward child. A runaway. A vagabond. Directionless.

Eventually, he reaches out an arm, fumbles blindly till he finds the notebook he’s been writing lyrics in. With a sigh, he hoists himself up into a sitting position, rolls his shoulders; a joint cracks somewhere in his neck.

His pen scratches dryly a bit against the blank page at first, reluctant to share its ink with him. The hiss of nub against paper, friction. Then, the ink floods out, all at once.

#anon asks #nip anon #2doc #2doc asks for beck #2doc fanfiction #niccalpot #AYYY I'VE WRITTEN RILLAZ FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE JANUARY!#YAY!

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