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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

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It’s The Avengers (03x17)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 17: Homecoming

SEASON FINALE

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: something mild that you guys have been waiting for

Word Count: my therapist diagnosed me for ADHD and she said that I am on the borderline of the spectrum. In the sense that I have a chance of getting better if I go through proper therapy and bring a change in my thinking. That is good to hear and hopefully I will do better by myself in the near future.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

A whirr followed by a piercing hum of a machine filled the blackness of the recording device. "Oh shit," a whisper was heard from within the dark. "What," another whispered back. "I forgot to pee." "Scott," multiple voices whispered at once, making Scott apologise to everyone in the dark. "All right, everyone," Natasha's composed voice addressed everyone, "we are jumping in five, four-" "Bucky, is that you?" Steve's voice was quite low. "Three-" "Yeah...well, I've never travelled to space so..." the White Wolf was quick to answer his boyfriend. "Two-" "Maybe I should've worn a diaper?" Scott's whisper was an amplitude higher now, the fear quite evident in his voice. "One."

The darkness was replaced by a flash of light flooding the lens before gradually giving way to a desert. The camera moved around to take in the Avengers team all suited up in black and purple scrutinising the area around them. Slowly everyone was opening their suit helmets once the oxygen concentration on this alien planet was confirmed. Scott was taking little jumps with his legs crossed. "Excuse me," he exclaimed quite urgently before running haphazardly behind a blue bush. Steve and Bucky stood there holding hands while their gaze went everywhere to look for any sign of trouble. Natasha tested the comms, the incoming signals from the Compound and the number of people who had arrived with her. "I have taken the attendance and we have arrived intact," she narrated robotically into her comms, "though Scott seems to be suffering from travelling sickness." "I'm okay," he shouted from behind the bush with heavy inhales in between his words, "just my bladder. Everything is a-okay. Nothing weird in the pee-pee." Wanda was already making use of her power to scan the entire planet while standing in one spot, her hands glowing in red plasmic waves while the rest of her body floating in a trance. "Have to say, this place almost looks like earth except for those little weird looking rabbits who were watching me behind the bush," Scott commented, coming back to the group. Natasha made eye contact with the one GoPro fitted on Scott's shoulder.

Natasha: *pushing her pigtails off her shoulder* So Shuri and Tony worked out the Pandora Box's algorithm of teleportation in *smiles* forty-eight hours. Bruce helped with the foundation, of course, I just sent him on vacation when Shuri arrived because the big guy was exhausted. *inhales and looks in the direction of her Space Team* As you can see we volunteered to rescue Y/N and Loki- *Tony's voice cracked through the comms* just Y/N. *camera panned in on Natasha's face going back to a stone-cold b*tch* Natasha: *sighs* Pepper deserves a reward for keeping him on earth Tony's voice: I heard that Natasha: *completely ignores Tony* Wanda is looking for them, Steve is here in case we need more brainpower for rescue. Bucks is our muscle and I am here in case any of them have second thoughts about killing anything that tries to hurt my family. And we are all worried that Scott might die on this trip. *camera zooms in on her* We don't even know what he contributes to this group. *camera slowly turns to record Scott, standing there tongue-tied, right from his shoulder* Scott: *in a low, disappointed tone* I am standing right here.

The camera- or cameras that were embedded in the dangerously fitting space suits- panned in on Wanda's eyes opening with a red glow. "I found them," she announced on a wavelength of confusion. "What's wrong?" Steve asked the question rising in everyone's mind. "Remember the woman who tried to kill Loki and Y/N?" "Aellae," Scott replied in the most derogatory way while making a face. Wanda blinked and tilted her head a bit. "She's alive."

On the Other Side of the alien Planet Coming into focus, a rusty looking fabric came into view, the loose cross stitch giving way to the light of the nearest star to pour in while the fabric flapped in the cool breeze. Panning out from the fabric, the view was shifted to you sitting up from what looking like one really good nap- thanks to that glow on your face and no gravity known by your hair that was everywhere. You wore a brown cotton dress without sleeves- exposing the black thread tied on your right bicep. A bit of air was knocked out from your lungs when Lulu bounced on you to hug and lick you to his satisfaction. The little tent was filled with your giggled and weak persuasion to get him off you. A gust of the cold breeze entered with the figure that came in with the tent. "Grandmamma!" you exclaimed, getting up to go hug Se'tiri, who patted your back. The camera settled down in front of the two of you as you sat down where you had been sleeping. "What are you doing here?" you asked Se'tiri, all smiles till you were hit with a sudden realisation. "Wait-" "You had fallen sick in Jotunheim," Se'tiri explained that sudden rush of questions inside your mind, "so Loki brought you back to me." "Is Loki okay?" was the first question that popped out of you. "You think anything can happen to that mannerless boy?!" she almost cursed him, tapping her cane on the floor. "He left Jotunh-" "Aye," Se'tiri waved your worries away with her hand, "do not worry about useless things. He is mannerless but he thinks ten steps ahead. You worry about yourself. Look at you, huh? You've lost so much weight. Does that boy not feed you? All that beautiful fat has vanished from your body." You were nearly on the edge of tears, hugging Se'tiri with all your might. "I love you, Se'tiri. And I can feed myself. What's that got to do with that 'boy'. It's not like he is going to cry if I lose a couple of pounds. Speaking of which, he isn't even here. Where is he?"

In the Middle of the Desert "I warned you not to follow me." Javier's camera was already panning on Loki's black-clad figure from his right side. The drone flying over them recorded Javier's resolute facial expressions. "I can't let you go to war alone." Loki snickered, barely able to contain his laughter. The drone moved away from them to record an eerie-looking shadow standing on the top of the opposite dune; a shadow with tentacles breaking out in every direction around the figure. Upon focusing, it turned out the figure was Aellae, looking at the figure of Loki laughing on his knees now. Her pale skin was cracked and her lips were dry and chapped. Those eyes were dark and clearly full of unsatisfied rage for the God slithering in the sand on some joke she did not understand. One moment she was standing here, her gaze suddenly locked with the drone; the other moment, she was seen at the foot of the dune before presenting herself right in front of Loki. Loki- all done with the laughter that Javier was clearly not pleased with- cleared his throat, wiped away the tears from the edge of his eyes and stood up to face a very horrid looking Aellae. "'Sup," the God greeting, barely trying to hold his laughter inside him. "You sold me out to those punishers!!!" she stressed the 'P' to nearly spit in his face. "You need to have some value for me to buy you before selling you out, Aellae," he soothingly stressed to the witch. Aellae was already baring her teeth at Loki, her shadow tentacles growing bigger with every passing second. "I guess riling your own kind against you paid me. I don't see your frail human anywhere." Her giggles of content were stopped by a voice from behind her. "Oi!!!" Loki, Aellae and Javier turned in the direction of this extremely familiar yet surprisingly thunderous 'oi'. The cameras panned in on the figure appearing on the other dune, riding a beast- hairy, husky, well built, no eyes, just a mouth with evident fangs and a roar that could be heard for miles- that almost looked like... "Lulu!" Loki shouted, "I told you not to bring her here you slow-witted pile of husk!!" "Oi oi Loki!!" you shouted back with a tsk. "Do not talk to my baby like that!" Lulu roared in agreement. "And you-" you turned towards Aellae- "no one gets to hurt my boys... except for my family! Families are weird." Aellae snarled at you. "Oh, but I will hurt them. But first I will hurt you." Both you and Aellae wore stern faces, neither of you backing down. Loki on the other hand was rolling his eyes and pressing his forehead with his fingers. "Why can this woman not give me a single day of peace?" Javier looked at Loki with a raised brow, about to say something when Loki raised his index at him. "No. Do not." Giving Lulu a pat, you were already mounting off the dune on his back. Aellae too was rushed towards you in horrific teleportation jumps till she came to a halt in the middle. Once, twice, thrice- the witch tried to move but she seemed to have been trapped right there. You came to a halt a few feet away from her, confused as to what just happened. Aellae was really not able to move. "What's wrong?" you seemed confused. Aellae turned to look up at Loki with all the world's animosity in her eyes. Loki, with his hands behind his back- that the drone recorded glowing- looked down at her with a smirk. "Not so fast," he whispered. Looking down at her feet, she noticed the familiar green and golden glow. With a scoff coming out of her lungs, Aellae gathered her shadows in her palms and directed it in your direction with great force. The shadows swirled around her fingers, found a target in you and rushed in your direction at a speed you were not able to comprehend soon enough. But the drone recording this fight could see them stop right before they came within two feet of you, freezing mid-air like icicles made of dazzling black liquid. "Not on my watch," a whisper stronger than the hot breeze in the desert came from behind you. All eyes watched as Wanda emerged from behind the sand dunes, floating over to come by your side. Her palms glowed with her ethereal magic but her poise made it seem like this took no effort at all. Your eyes widened on seeing Wanda right next to you. Inhaling all the alien air in your lungs, you opened your arms, right in time for Wanda to twist her fingers and raise her brow and smirk. "WANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you shrieked. And your shrieks were being directed by the Scarlet witch towards Aellae with no delay, making her lose her footing in no time. Lulu was helping you slide down his back right into Wanda's arms. No one could figure out when your shrieks had turned into wails muffled in Wanda's arms. "It's so good to see you," you bawled in her chest, making your witch laugh. "Aw! I missed you too! Though I have been watching you every day." Both of you were embracing each other in the highest hug possible while moving side to side in a slow down. And all this while, Aellae was throwing her attacks at you, which barely made through Wanda's shield. From where Loki watched this unfold, the futile efforts of the bad witch were just clad in some dark humour. "Everything about this makes me cringe," he groaned. "Stop it Aellae," he shouted in her direction, "you are just embarrassing yourself." Aellae wanted to go all dark, her eyes, her features, all covered in the shadows she carried, evidently preparing for a big bang. And just before she could release it, Green and golden chain made of pure magic were wringing her waist, pulling her away from the two women. They yanked her towards Loki, on the top of the dune where the God stood stoic as ever, his one hand behind his back while the other casually carried out what needed to be done. She was roaring in his face, wanting to burst open from those chains, but Loki was already fetching shackles from his pocket dimension to bind her in their magic. "The boys will take care of you," he announced without putting much effort in his words, seeming quite bored. "Man, I love the boys," another familiar voice came from his side. Javier turned his camera to record Scott sitting on the sand playing with the rocks while looking up and smiling at Loki. "They remind me of someone. Like a boy band, I think." Behind him stood Steve and Bucky, both shielding their eyes from the starlight with shades. Natasha was sitting next to Scott, surprisingly entertaining herself with Scott's pebbles game. "Why did we tag along, again?" Bucky asked his boyfriend. Steve puckered his lips, opening his mouth to say something. "Well, the cameras need the sexy while Wanda and Loki take care of things," Scott mentioned as he swimmingly put on his own shades for Javier's camera. Bucky and Steve seemed satisfied with that explanation before a good amount of blushing.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Javier and his drones pointed themselves in your direction. "They better work." Javier seemed pretty serious. "Shuri will be firing the mechanism in exactly-" Natasha looked at the countdown on her watch- "two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. So, everyone, take positions." "Wait," you begged loudly out of the blue, turning towards someone outside the frame. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, my precious baby," you croaked. Your giant floof came forward to smell you before licking your face. He chirped out loud, rubbing his head with yours. "I love you too," you announced at the edge of breaking into tears, hugging him as gently as possible. Loki blinked a few times before looking away from you. Clearing his throat, he came to stand next to you, taking his sweet time to raise his hand and pet him right where he loved it. "Don't let that witch out," he commanded softly to his pile of husk, to which Lulu replied with a loud burp that carried the cries of Aellae from the oblivion inside him. That earned him more soft pats from the God. "Will you be okay alone?" you had to ask, even though you knew that would just bring up more emotions in your throat. "Of course, he will," Loki acknowledged, pointing you in the direction of the nearest dune. There on the top stood six floofs, both big and small just like Lulu. One of them, the biggest of them all, roared with a pulsating sound. Lulu replied with a roar of his own, giving you one last tug before walking towards his pack.

"So, your powers are back," Steve commented, his thumbs resting in his belt loops as he waited for the clock to take them back home. At the same time, Scott was asking you the most awaited question. "Hey, Y/N, what happened at Jotunheim? After you were taken hostage?" Just as your inhaled a lungful and furrowed your brows at the question, Loki was smirking at the captain, moving a step closer to you to wrap his arm around your waist. Call it a reflex or a reaction built on experience but as soon as his arm was wrapping itself around your waist, your arms were grabbing onto his shoulders with your life force within one-tenth of a second "Let's test it out," the God pondered with no drop of doubt on his face, before disappearing with you. An awkward silence loomed after the golden swoop, leaving the Cap a little bit tongue-tied. "You just had to ask," Bucky rolled his eyes but the camera was zooming in on this one mischievous smirk on Natasha's lips as she took her position in the centre and pointed to the block Javier was supposed to stand on. "I am still curious-" Scott raised his hand in the air as he took his position- "in case anyone is curious."

The Lounge The continuous smacking of the LED screen was heard out of the frame while a very flushed MJ sat on the sofa, never blinking for a minute straight. The camera turned to find Peter still smacking the LED and its router while his little bulging bicep was peeking out from his half-sleeved white t-shirt. "Anything yet?" The soda that had barely reached the eighteen-year old's lips spilt a little as she found herself back in reality. "Huh? Wha-oh! No. Nothing." The flushing embarrassment must have increased tenfold on seeing the camera focused on her for she tried to shift in her seat, trying to face away from the camera. Peter stopped the smacking abruptly to let out a groan. "Come on you dumb machine! Work! We need to find out where my friends are!!!!" The 'machine' started to vibrate; the intensity increasing by the second. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to offend you," Peter was blurting out in one breath. "Peter! What did you do?!" MJ was pulling the boy away from the screen before an intense pressure of air blew them over to the sofa- Peter landing over MJ. In the very next second, you and Loki stood in the middle of the lounge, his arms still wrapped around you. Your eyes closed, your head pressed to his chest, hands clutching the fabric of his long coat as hard as possible, your existence just wanting to stay in this shell even when the people around you started to move. Peter was breathless at the sight. Pointing at you and Loki, no words coming out of his mouth, just that his eyes were getting moist by the second. "Y/N-" Loki's voice was smooth as his hand tried to move your undone hair from your face- "we're home." You made the effort to open your eyes and take a small step away from his chest, but the vertigo of space travel was still playing with your brain, making you lose your balance. Not fast enough for Loki to not catch you in his arms and bring you back to his chest. "Breathe," he ordered in his scruff yet gentle voice. And you obeyed. The camera was frozen on those pale hands holding you tightly to his chest, and that one tick of tension in the brows of the God that seemed to dissolve into a resting cold face as soon as it appeared on the surface. Once your breathing was steady, you tested your balance. "Good now?" You nodded and Loki let you go. The frame captured you slowly parting from him, your gaze stuck on his, relief on both faces, and Peter appearing in the middle with tears streaming down his face, his arms ready to take you both. "I'b soooo habby you're okayyyy," he bawled through his tears and hiccups. MJ pulled him away by his shirt. "Yes, yes, you're really happy now let them breathe first," the sweet girl ordered him in a monotonous tone. You broke into a smile at Peter's overflow of concern and Loki mirrored you all the same. A ruckus could be heard from the lab, specifically Tony asking for you. After two seconds of silence, he was bursting into the lounge breathless to find you standing there, in flesh and blood. Within the breath that you used to wave at him and say, "Hey Mr Sta-ow!" he was already hugging you with the intensity of a thousand suns. "Tony, you need to let her go before she chokes due to lack of air," Pepper pointed out as she stood next in line to hug you. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? The last feed we got was-" "Yes, Loki saved me," you assured your father, cutting him mid-sentence. "You shouldn't be expecting anything less from him by now. Right, dad?" That's it. That word did it for Tony. All the waterworks that he had been saving suddenly started to pour out while he took Loki's support as a shoulder to hide his outburst. The God softly patted the man on his back with gentle but quite awkward 'there, there's.

Two Hours Later "I'm sorry, I swear this is the last test." Bruce was adjusting his glasses on his sweaty nose, trying his best to stay composed under the stress those two dads standing behind him were giving him. Clint was even holding his resting bitch face in place. "It's okay, Mr Banner. Please take your time, as I told you the last five times." You were surprisingly calm. "Are you sure you don't feel anything weird?" Tony had to make sure.

Bruce: *sighs* Seven

"Yes," you were resisting the urge to scold him by biting your lips and closing your eyes as you lay on the table with all the scanners surrounding you, "I am fine. How about you go take a look at Javier and Loki?" "They got over with the tests half an hour ago," Clint mentioned, taking a sip of coffee from his takeaway cup. "So, there are no foreign sensations in your body?" Tony furrowed his brows as if they would have helped you answer his question. You shared a tired look with the camera.

Bruce: *groans* Eight.

"It wouldn't hurt you to trust me, Tony," Bruce finally blurted it out, picking up the syringe to draw a blood sample from you. "Oh, I trust you-" Tony nodded with assurance in Bruce's direction while Clint mimicked that nod- "it's the...other alien I don't trust." Clint shook his head. Your palms legit slapped the slab you were lying on, taking the men by a little surprise, as you got up to face them. "That alien is the reason I am here." The camera panned in on that nasty glare you were giving those two while Bruce stepped back with his needle, trying to look at anything but you. "He is also the reason you froze to death in Jotunheim." Tony was quite assertive with his voice. "Well, I am not dead, am I?" Your voice rose a tempo higher. Clint raised a brow and took small steps to join Bruce on the side. "And if you saw me in Jotunheim, I am pretty sure you damn well know that I am the one solely responsible for me dying in that frost prison because I know you know I did that on purpose!!" Tony was already matching the rage wavelength with you. "And that makes it all the more reason for you to stay away from that man." "I WAS DYING BECAUSE I WANTED TO COME HOME!!" Your outburst came with the waterworks. Your voice shook but that did not stop you from taking the floor and standing in front of your father. "AND I KNEW LOKI WAS THE ONLY CHOICE!!" "You had Carol," Tony was gritting his teeth. "She has a family to look after too, Mr Stark. And last I remember she was the one who trusted me to stay with Loki till she came back because she knew who was trustworthy. And why are we even having this discussion? That GOD literally fought his own kind for getting me and Javier home safe. What more do you want to take from him to finally see that he can be trusted? What are you afraid of? That he will trick you and take over the world? That he is planning some universal scale annihilation? Well, good for him. At least when he is not thinking of world domination he is busy saving your dumbass destructive DAUGHTER EVEN WHEN HE DOES NOT HAVE TO!!!!" The loud sobs did not stop. But Tony definitely did, watching his anger crumble as he embraced you in his arms and lightly patted your head to make you feel better. "I'm sorry," he finally confessed, "I almost felt like dying when I saw you freezing on the screen. I was angry at myself for not being able to save you." "Then why are you blaming him?" you asked in between your sobs, pointing in a general direction away from here. "Because he was close to you and I wasn't. I am so sorry, my baby. I just wanted to give you a normal life. I just wanted you to have normal friends, normal college life, normal stuff like boyfriends who I could threaten when they came to take you out for a date. I never wanted you to just disappear into space out of nowhere." The camera turned towards a very wide-eyed Clint just staring into oblivion.

Clint: Well, I thought the older one with daddy issues would handle it well. But *chuckles* she really is his daughter. *takes a sip of his coffee* *feels the taste on his tongue* *makes a bitter face with his tongue out* Ugh! Why is this thing been tasting so bad for these past few weeks?!

A Few Minutes Later Scott, Peter and Pepper being the most avid listeners of the night, showered Loki with questions about all they witnessed on the recordings. Both boys were wearing rabbit beanies and pink pyjamas to compliment Pepper's fuzzy blue ones. Loki- to the shock and awe of everyone who witnessed this- was unexpectedly patient, answering all their queries. "And they bought it, just like that," Pepper stated with a null expression with curious eyes. Loki shrugged, shifting his arm pillow to Pepper's side. "Their kind takes the female superiority pretty seriously. They practically pray to them. So, it wasn't that hard once Y/N told them she was my wife." Peter and Scott- with their head resting in their palms- let out a stretched 'wow' with dreamy eyes. "They surely are one of a kind." Pepper tilted her head, "Is there some sort of encyclopedia where I can learn about all these creatures? I have been craving new knowledge recently. And Tony keeps all the Discovery channel on child lock so that is not helping. At all." Scott waved a hand at Loki. "And what about the time at the bar? Those beings with long antlers. What are they called?" The camera swivelled to you standing at the entrance of the lounge smiling a glowing smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. You too were on your brown pyjamas, finally looking like a kid amongst all these super adult. Once the camera caught your attention, you nodded at it and walked towards the recording room. "Come on, let's get to it before I fall asleep for seventy-two hours."

You enter the room with a yawn and a stretch, sitting down on the chair and scratching your exposed legs in those fuzzy shorts. Once the signal is given, you look at the camera. You: *sigh* *smile lightly* Well, that was a wild ride. And even saying that is an understatement. All that stuff that we- The door opens and the camera shifts to record Tony apologising before turning to you. "Don't stay up late, okay. You need your sleep," he reminds you in a hush. You nodded and replied with a smile. A pause of three seconds and Tony walks towards you to pat your head and plant a soft kiss in your hair. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," you blow a kiss back at him. Tony walks out with the most precious smile on his face.

You: *inhales* so where were we? Yeah. *laughs* You have seen everything, right? *snickers* and this guy still said he wanted a normal life for me. *laughs some more* This is the normal, father dear. This is how it is! Normal college life? To be honest I am not that disappointed that I missed a couple of assignments. I mean you don't get to say 'I'm sorry I didn't turn in my homework because I was busy being stuck on an alien planet'. *pauses* *presses her lips together to put a stop on the smile* You: Oh! Peter has already used that line. Well, then that makes two of us. And get a boyfriend so he can threaten him? Pfft! What is this some ninety's rom-com high school drama? Someone needs to tell him his daughter hasn't dated in this lifetime. *shakes her head* *stares into oblivion* and with the kind of things, a hundred things, she looks for in one single man guy, she might date in this lifetime... or the next one. *makes a face at her own thoughts* You: *groans* I mean come on! I can't just start dating a guy. You saw how I was when everyone around me was a complete stranger. I barely talked! *looks at the person behind the camera* You: What do I look for in a ma-that's a long list sweety. *shakes head vigorously before giving up* *long sigh* *licks lips* *shrugs* Well, the first thing I want in someone I would consider to be eligible as someone dateable would a person who is my friend.

Recording flips to the small clips of you meeting Loki for the first time, bickering, fighting, laughing together, pranking each other, watching movies together, sharing secrets about the other avengers and reading books together in the library.

A person who *thinks for a moment* gets how important family is to me. And when I say family...well, you know what I mean.

Another clip edit shows the God helping Bucky train in the training room, teaching Natasha about new poisons, blocking all the foreign sounds from the lounge when Pepper was soothing her belly and watching Boys Over Flowers. One time he lifted all the heavy furniture while Tony stress-cleaned the entire place all the while the God read a book. Another time he kept replacing Clint's coffee with a substitute that was good for his heart and tasted better.

I would want to date someone who gives me attention? *tsks* In the sense that they know I am there. I don't know if that makes sense.

Flip to the clips showing Loki moving the side table out of your way- with his magic- when you were busy dancing with your headphones on; him cooling down your tea to bring to a drinkable temperature; him threatening Sam so he doesn't eat your period chocolates; his concerned eyes stuck on you when you were stressed out about your exams at two in the morning in the library before he got you something to drink and offered to go in your place instead; he and Peter playing darts with David's face pasted on the dartboard; him taking the fairy lights from you to place them near the roof where you could not reach, in your room.

Someone who is funny.

The flip is to all the clips where you are either snickering, giggling or cackling with laughter, choking on your drink after Loki said something sarcastic with a straight face.

Someone who respects my space and my decisions

The recording shows Loki smiling while looking at you lecturing the men in the house about mansplaining and how it was an inherent thing for some; the God helping you make sandwiches for the Avenger's donation drive to Stark orphanage; Loki being the first to ask 'want me to help you pack' when you announced to the family you were going to visit a haunted house with your college friends; Loki putting a repel spell on your door when you wanted to be alone; him just sitting in his room by the window reading while you took his entire bed to make zentangles, neither of you talking throughout the time together.

Someone who is not afraid of physical touch. I would really want that.

All the falls that Loki saved you from with his arms, chest and entire body, be it in the Avengers facility or out in space; all the hugs he gave you at your low points; all the pats on your back flash one by one on the screen.

Someone who is *shrugs* *smiles a weak smile* happy for my existence? *brows furrow though the smile is stuck on your face* Someone...who I can get comfortable with. I don't have to put up a facade for them.

Edit flashes of all the moments where Loki gravitates to come and sit next to you, be it in the lounge, the library, the lab, the training room, the spaceship, alien planets. Another edit is of all the moments when you gravitate towards Loki, sometimes a mess in your nightclothes, hair unkempt, burping out loud, sometimes farting without any restrictions, other times groaning and letting your head rest on his shoulder. Other times just plane crying ugly in front of him.

*blinks* *furrows brows further* Someone...who I feel safe with?

This time the shift is to the clips where you are drunk and coming home from the club and Loki is supporting your frame to walk you to your room; another clip shows you watching a horror movie in the lounge late at night and you are burrowing your face behind his shoulder while he sits there with discomfort on his face for whatever movie both of you are watching; there is one where you are not feeling evidently anxious in the crowd of aliens and the camera is zooming in on you fingers lightly holding on to the edge of Loki's coat while you both walk through the market; another one is of you smiling as you look at Loki gush over the simulators in the modified spaceship; then there is one where you are smiling once again despite being surround by lethal frost giants and the reason of you smile being the God who is standing beside you and at the same time standing a step ahead of you to act as a shield for anyone who dares do anything in your direction.

You are evidently surrounded by clouds of confusion and doubt hiding an impending realisation somewhere inside them. Your lips are parted but no sound comes out. Just when you feel like you have it, confusion grows darker on your features. The door clicks open and Loki's face pops in to find you in the room. The surprise on your face does not go unnoticed by either him or the camera. "You do realise you teleported here in terms of light-years," Loki comments. "Huh?" is all you can manage. "Go get some sleep before Clint comes to kill me in my sleep," he orders before turning towards the camera and finally walking out. A good few seconds pass in deafening silence. Your eyes are still stuck on the door. A few blinks later your eyes go wider. Even the camera knows what has happened for it is panning on the unadulterated shock on your face as your lips finally move to express this newfound theory. "...oh fuck."

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speechlessxx · 5 years ago

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Bring Him Light - Prologue (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The Princess of York is to be sent away to marry the Brooken King.

Warnings: Steve’s not in this chapter. Patriarchy. Tony’s not winning father of the year. Possible Dark Themes (in the future).

Word Count: 1.8k

This was gonna be longer, but I wanted y’alls opinion before I went ahead and made this a series.

Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what y’all think.

Bring Him Light Masterlist

(The gif isn’t mine and it’s kinkier than i wanted it to be sorry... no bondage in this one)

Next Part ->

The coarse ropes dug into your skin as you twisted and turned your wrists in hopes to loosen the knot. You were sure they’d leave marks. You bit your lip to suppress the pained whimper that threatened to escape but paid no attention to the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It wasn’t as if your captor would’ve seen. The burlap sack over your head made sure of that.

Every time the cart jostled due to the uneven roads, you felt the crops – your travel companions as it seemed – roll around, often smacking against you. You tried to reach backwards with your bound wrists, searching for an arrow in your quiver. But it seemed as if your captor had rid you of them.

You felt the dirt on your skin. It was all over your legs and feet – you had forgone your shoes, the heels would’ve made your escape twice as difficult. The earth had settled itself into your pores and between your toes, leaving an uncomfortable feeling that made you cringe.

As the ride became smoother, you knew you were closer to the castle. You stopped fumbling with your bound wrists and rested your head against the back of the cart in defeat. There was no use in trying to escape. You lost your chance. No one would let you go now.

Soon the cart had stopped altogether and the rider – your captor – had retrieved you, carrying you in his arms. You were exhausted. All the fight in you had been extinguished in your attempt to flee. It had been at least two days since you’ve last eaten. You couldn’t even remember if you gave yourself an opportunity to fall asleep.

“Your majesty!” The man carrying you bellowed out as you heard doors open. “I’ve brought you a gift.” The man had put you down and though you couldn’t find the strength to stand, you tried your best to steady yourself. The bag had been removed from your head – you were sure your hair was a mess – but you kept your glare as you stood your ground. The man handed the king a broken piece of wood and you felt your stomach drop in realization. “I’ve broken her bow. My apologies.”

“Thank you, Thor,” the king nodded. His face was expressionless as he stared you down. “I’ll be sure to pay you well, huntsman, for bringing back my daughter.”

The huntsman grunted in response before he bowed. He left the throne room without another word. The councilmen stood beside your father, whispering to one another as they all took in your state.

Dirt pressed into your skin. The dress you wore was days old and torn from your tussle with the huntsman. Your hair – which was normally so clean and plaited elegantly – was in shambles and stood up in various spots. Your wrists were bound together, and a skinny strand of blood trickled down your arms due to the tight knot. If the men didn’t know any better, you looked like a common peasant – not a princess.

Your face was flushed as your rage boiled inside you. Your father quipped up an eyebrow as if expecting you to scream – to shout and curse at him – but all you did was glare in silence. And if looks could kill, he’d be dead three times over.

“You,” your father finally said as he narrowed his eyes, “sent the castle into a frenzy looking for you.” He walked towards you, disappointment and exhaustion written on his face. “That was incredibly reckless.”

“Little girls tend to be so, your grace,” one of the councilmen chided. The others at his side chuckled. “Which is why they become pretty accessories, not rulers.”

“They say men who are well endowed give their wives sons. I wonder, my lord, why you and your wife only have daughters,” you snapped. The chuckling immediately stopped.

The noble glared at you. He pointed his finger at you and yelled, “you little – “before being interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“My love, is it true–“ the throne room doors opened and you carefully turned to see your mother. Her smile quickly faded the moment she saw your condition – the tattered dress, dirty feet, messy hair, arms bound. A frown settled on her beautiful face before she dismissed her ladies. “Leave us,” she ordered. Her ladies rushed away, but the councilmen stayed. Your mother scowled at the men. “I said leave us.”

“Your grace,” they murmured. “Your highness,” they bowed to you. The man you insulted moments ago gave you one last glare before following the others.

“My sweet girl,” your mother sighed, rushing towards you. She cupped your face in her hands and wiped some of the grime from your cheeks. She tutted before grabbing your wrists. She winced when she saw the blood and the reddening skin underneath the tight knot. “I thought you told Thor to be gentle, Anthony.”

“I told him to do whatever was necessary,” your father shrugged, “to ensure our daughter’s safe return.”

Your mother scoffed as she tried to unravel the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “She is a princess, and you paraded her in front of the nobles as if she’s some prisoner, tied up like an animal.”

“If she only acted like a princess, then none of this would be necessary,” your father rebutted.

“If you hadn’t sold me like a broodmare, then I wouldn’t have run!” You shot back. You pulled you away from your mother to walk towards your father, pointing a finger at him with your wrists still bound together. “I won’t go through with this. I swear it! I will not marry him!”

Your father curled his lip and he slapped your hand away from him. “You will because it is your duty!” he snapped. “A marriage alliance will unite the two great nations of the north! No one will ever dare go to war on the northern kingdoms – not when we stand together.”

“You were at war with him nearly three years ago!” You argued. “If you want an alliance, draw up a treaty! Better yet, ask the Brooken king to meet you for supper!” You felt tears prick in your eyes. You were frustrated and angry. You didn’t like to argue with your father. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then we will have another war.”

“At the cost of my life!”

“Tony, stop it,” your mother chirped. Her hands found your shoulders as she tried to calm your anger.

“Tell him no, mother, please.” If anyone could get through to your stubborn father and talk some sense into him, it would be your mother. You prayed that she’d be on your side – that she wouldn’t send off her eldest daughter to another kingdom just to be an accessory to a prideful king. She averted her eyes from you to look back at your father. “This isn’t a lesson you’re sending me off to. This is the rest of my life. I’ll be some man’s breeder. I’ll be his whore by law and if I try to run, he can kill me.”

“Then, don’t run,” your father sighed. He walked over to you and pulled a blade from his cloak. Your mother gave him a startled look and he responded with a shrug as if to say you never know when you need it. He carefully sawed through the knot, releasing you from your bindings. “This is for your own good. This is for the good of the two kingdoms.”

“if you need a treaty so badly, then send a bloody diplomat!” You screamed and rubbed at the wounded skin. “Why send a bride?”

“He needs a queen he can trust,” your father said.

“You’re condemning me to a loveless marriage!”

“That is not written in stone,” your mother reasoned. She reached for your father and he took her hand. You watched as their fingers intertwined.

“Your bond is different. He’s a different man than father.”

“If York falls, Brooken follows… But not if we stand together. Do you not understand the threat we are all under?” Your father frowned. “The Mad King Thanos is overthrowing monarch after monarch. His empire steadily grows and I’m afraid if we do not unite the north, then we will all perish. Think of your little brother, Harvey. If I die at the hands of Thanos, he’s too young to lead a kingdom – to lead our men into war and win it. Think of baby Morgan. Your little sister brought into the world only months ago. If Thanos comes tomorrow, do you think he’ll have mercy on her? I can assure you that he won’t. He’s killed men, women, and children alike. He’ll kill her without hesitation.

“Please, my daughter, my eldest. If you will not do this for me – for your country, do it for them.”

“If I die, my blood is not on his hands. It will be on yours.” You spat. “How will you live knowing that you’ve condemned your eldest child to her death?”

Your father sighed. There was no use in arguing anymore. You got your stubbornness from the Stark blood that flowed through your veins.

“Your things have been packed and loaded into a carriage. Your ladies have already begun their journey. You leave at nightfall.” Your father nodded with clenched teeth. He gave you one last look. “King Steven is eager to meet you.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

King Steven was said to love art. They say he often painted in the courtyard or in the gardens. He collected paintings and sculptures. He’s fond of decorations, they tell you. His favorite decorum was said to be the corpses of his enemies, strung up along the castle walls. A reminder to those who wished for his demise and those who plotted against him that he was and would always be victorious.

He was said to be cruel. You heard stories that he was a ruthless killer on the battlefield – that he wouldn’t stop slashing at his foe until his sword and armor were coated in their blood. You were told he never smiled and from the portraits you’ve seen of the man, it seemed to be true. He was handsome in the pictures you’ve seen. Short blonde hair, strong jaw, blue eyes. But looks could only compensate for so much.

He was married twice before. Queen Margaret and Queen Sharon. Both from the now extinct House Carter. Both queens died before they could give King Steven a child – a son.

You didn’t know the circumstances of their deaths, but some say the king was cursed. How unfortunate and unlucky does a man have to be to lose both his wives? But others have told you a different story. A story that was far more twisted and frightening.

Others claim that King Steven killed his queens.

The servants couldn’t blame you when you snuck away, bow and quiver full of arrows in hand. They even covered for you when you left through the kitchen’s exit.

But they were just rumors… How true could they be?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #king steve #king steve rogers #dad tony stark #king tony stark #avengers medieval #medieval au #imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #bring him light

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frogsmulder · 4 years ago

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Maybe There’s Hope: chpt 7 Together Towards Entropy

Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth, Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugatives. When they finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again. A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?

3.6k words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic; read on ao3

With the last box packed, Margaret Scully locked the door to her daughter's apartment for the final time and handed the key over to the landlord, who mumbled his appreciation and ambled back down the hall. Maggie was left there, standing by the shut door like it was the final page turned and the chapter ending. She shook the thought from her head, knowing it was a silly one. It was never over: God has his way of bringing people back together.

Back in her own home, Maggie put the final boxes into the guest room all of their things safe under her roof. All of the furniture had been sold-- that was mostly inconsequential-- but everything else was here. Taking a final look at the room, she hummed. It was like she could feel the physical presence of Dana in everything she had loved, cherished, and lived with.

Closing the door, she padded down the stairs and into the living room where the glow from the fishtank illuminated the room. She checked the temperature of the tank water, watching the mollies swim around in the bag that floated on top. She could tell they were eager to return. To their familiar surroundings, but the water wasn't warm enough just yet, but soon.

----------

Scully quietly mused the breakfast menu, feeling calm and content sat in the booth of a Mexican restaurant. Mulder was sat on the other side of the table looking out of the window to the sun-speckled bay. His hand had been grasping hers under the table the entire time; his thumb traversing the mountain range of her knuckles repetitively.

"You seem happy," she commented, turning the page of the menu awkwardly with one hand.

"I am." He turned his attention to her, his smile fading slightly as his mind began to race ahead with implications. "Are you not?"

"No, I am," she sighed, continuing to puzzle over some of the dish names. Mulder lowered his head to try and get under her fixed gaze and her eyes flicked up to meet him. "What? I am happy."

Mulder sat back and nodded, smirking to himself.

Scully looked up from the menu, bringing their hands to rest on top of the table. "Have you had any more hallucinations?"

"No, I haven't actually." His head had been surprisingly clear since that night on the beach like his words had freed him when he'd finally shared them. He hoped it was the case.

A refreshing smile turned the corner of her mouth upwards and she subconsciously held his hand slightly tighter. "That's good."

"Hmm," he agreed, lost in her smile. Her hand was soft under his thumb, sparking gentle memories of her surrounding him and the bed sheets the last few days they had given in and spent every night in a motel, comfort of waking with her head laid against his chest a luxury beyond compare. It made a difference to the cold sweats she used to wake in, lurching from her position to escape the night terrors. On restless nights he had witnessed it, when only his arms could wrap around her and anchor her to this world as she gasped to gain control.

But not the last few days. She had woken as peacefully as he had slept, usually with a tiny speck of drool decorating his bare chest, which he didn't dare tease her about.

"And you've not had your nightmares for a while...Unless?"

She had rushed to the bathroom again this morning, although she had told him it was nothing to worry about.

"No, I haven't," she reassured him.

"Maybe we're finally getting it right then."

Scully laughed and shook her head. "I used to think we'd never get it right."

The past few months she'd forgotten what right felt like until she saw the familiar glimmer on the horizon that meant the sea and she'd persuaded Mulder to make a stop-off. That night, with the water at her feet, she felt something click, like the reassuring words of her father existed in the sea spray, telling her that she was loved and trusted. Being close to him had put her soul at ease. She still worried for her child in the world, for Mulder, for her mother so far away but that anxiety had eroded into a constant ebb of care for all of them.

"I saw a little place down the road that does postcards, I thought we could pick one up later. We could start a collection. Maybe even do a scrapbook."

She licked her lip and bit back a smile. Of course, Mulder had found the one she had taken. It was impossible to keep secrets from him, especially given their current circumstances.

"Yes, that would be nice."

Giving the menu one final look over she handed it to Mulder as she stood up and moved out of the booth.

"Can't find anything?"

He looked up at her and she stroked his hair affectionately as she walked past, making him grin.

"Just order for me whatever you're having. I'm going to the restroom."

Taking her hand, he kissed her palm, and gently let her go.

"Okay."

Scully moved through the bar to the back, pushing against the door to the restroom. It was quiet inside, a welcoming contrast to the constant hum of conversation. She brushed her hair out of her face, holding her palm to her forehead, trying to quieten the loud ache that resided there. Standing in front of the mirror, she considered herself and smiled. Once again, she could recognise the person in the mirror, despite the unfamiliarity still of her longer blonde hair. The dark rings from under her eyes had disappeared and there was a warmth to her cheeks again underneath her dusting of freckles. She shook her head, foolish thoughts of happiness flooding her mind. But they were good. She was good.

And then she felt the clenching in her gut again, not as powerful as this morning, but enough to make her lurch. Splashing some cold water to her face, she refreshed herself, sweeping other thoughts under the carpet. She cupped her hands under the water and brought it to her mouth to drink, tempering her queasiness and headache.

By the time she got back, Mulder had already ordered and a glass of orange juice was waiting for her on the table.

"I chose the huevos rancheros. It's the specialty dish and I thought you deserve a treat for putting up with me this last couple of months." He smirked mischievously and then he turned sombre. "I know I haven't always been there for you when you needed, Dana, and you're still here for me–"

She brought his hand to hold it against her cheek.

"Of course, I am," she interrupted, which made his smile reappear.

They waited in companionable silence for their brunch, never deciding whether to gaze out at the bay or at each other. When the food came, Scully made her way through the large portion of fried eggs, which Mulder raised his eyebrows at but didn't question.

----------

Midday and they were back on the road driving to nowhere, an appetising silence filling the space. Mulder's hand rested on her leg and Scully had her fingers twined through his. He kept stealing frequent glances at her, smiling every time he caught a glimpse of the freckles that dusted her rosy cheeks, or the curl of her lips, or her red roots showing through her blonde hair-- the Scully he loved reappearing from behind the cracks in her walls.

"Do you ever think about him? Our son?" She broke his spell of reverie and looked at him inquisitively. "What he might be doing at this very moment whilst we are miles away?"

He sighed and gently squeezed her hand. "Dana, you know the answer to that."

"I know... I wanted to hear it from someone else."

She continued to look at him with a softness that almost broke him and he paused for a moment, remembering holding his tiny baby. It seemed so long ago and wished there was more to remember, but he held them with fondness, the phantom feeling of his tiny fingers wrapped around his little one, never letting him forget. Those fingers would be bigger now, stronger, but he could still feel them. He clenched his fists on the steering wheel reflexively.

"Not a day goes by when I don't think of how well he'll be doing and how proud I am of him."

"Not a day goes by where I don't think the same." She looked out towards the glistening of the sea with a frown knitted into her brow. "It... It's strange... learning to love someone from afar... Accepting... that we only a small part of his life now takes some getting used to."

Mulder swallowed apprehensively, his heart clenching around her words pinning precisely how he had felt out in the desert and now.

"Dana?" His voice was pricked with worry. "What's brought this on?"

"I don't know," she sighed.

Pressing the cool flesh of her fingers to her forehead, she sucked in a breath. Every lump in the road seemed amplified with the motion of the car. The churning of the tires over asphalt mimicked the churning in her stomach.

"Stop the car. I need to get out," she whispered.

"Scully?"

She gulped a breath and managed to raise her voice a little. "Stop the car!"

As soon as Mulder had pulled over to the side of the road, Scully was out of the car and doubled over, the contents of her brunch returning. Initially, shock had caught him like a deer in headlights, but Mulder rushed to her side and swept the hair from her face, anxiously clenching his jaw.

"Jeez Scully," he breathed, rubbing her back.

Coughing, she stood up and brushed away his hand.

"It's okay, Mulder. I'm fine."

He cupped her cheeks, wiping some spittle from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and gazed into her welling, blue eyes. Back-dropped by the ocean, they glistened surrendering to something solemn deep inside. He sighed and pulled her into his chest.

"You forget I know what 'I'm fine' means."

She let his words hang in the air, trying to avoid them but only hurtling towards inevitable admittance. With her head cradled between his hand and chest, she let the tiniest tear form and fall.

He stood still for her like that, absorbing her sniffs, stroking her hair, never questioning her need to let go and have control over herself. She tried to stay rigid and unmoving and he feared that she was drawing into herself again, hiding from him to protect herself again. That their rhythm was out of sync again after things felt like they were falling into place. In reality, he knew it had only been a couple of months since they had started this journey: no time at all. He couldn't expect deep wounds to heal with one plaster of good fortune. But it had already felt like years of waiting, and he was tired, exhausted from the grief, wanting to move on. Maybe they weren't ready to move on yet.

"I feel fine, Mulder." She pressed the words muffled into his chest. "Better than I have in a while but... I-- I don't think I am... fine."

"What do you mean?"

She lifted her head from his chest but still couldn't look him in the eye, ashamed that she might have kept something so important from him. "I think I might be ill. From either stress or a virus, I don't know. But I've had migraines and nausea for some time now."

She watched as his eyes softened with compassion, and she felt more guilty for ever thinking he shouldn't know.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

He brought his hands to her face more gently this time as if he were holding delicate china, his thumbs soothing over the pattern of her cheeks. Scully placed her hands on his arms, pulling them away.

"I didn't want you to worry, especially with your own condition. And I thought it would pass."

"Scully, you need to let me worry." He wanted to cup her cheeks again, to feel the reassuring weight of her press against his skin. He looked down at where their hands slowly swung like a cradle between them, all their worry turned to motion as it tried to escape. "What do you need?"

"Some ginger ale and some painkillers for the symptoms." Her tone took on a cold and measured value, detached from feeling and from herself as doctor Scully took over.

"For the cause?"

"I should probably see a doctor."

He nodded solemnly. "Okay. Let's get you some ginger ale and pain killers first."

Mulder guided her back to the car, his hand like it always had been, a rudder at her back. She didn't shy away from his touch and even gave him a smile from one corner of her mouth. She sat down clumsily in the passenger seat, grasping onto Mulder's arm to steady herself.

"We'll get through this." Scully looked up at him earnestly. "Us both."

"I should be the one saying that to you, Scully."

She gave him an honest smile, letting him know that what she had said was true: she did feel fine. Even better than that, she felt good-- great-- until another wave of nausea hit, but it never lasted long. She was more worried about him than she was herself.

Time seemed to drag along with each steady revolution of the wheels. Mulder was driving extra slowly, conscious of Scully who had the window wound down and the fresh air blowing in to keep her nausea at bay. She looked radiant even though she was struggling to keep the rest of her breakfast down. The sun danced through her golden hair and over her skin, lighting little kisses of freckles across the flush of her cheeks.

He felt her small hand reach across and squeeze his knee, and although he was focusing on the road, he could tell she was smiling, gazing at the city they were driving through. Her index finger was probably over her lips, her arm resting on the door like she did whenever she was quietly happy. Mulder kissed the back of her hand before pulling into a grocery store parking lot.

"You coming?" she asked as she got out of the car, hope sprung in her voice.

He grinned. "I wouldn't dream of leaving."

Inside, the ginger ale and tablets were easy enough to find, but it was something else in the health aisle that had made Mulder stop. He felt like his heart had stopped and the air had stopped moving in his lungs. The only thing that hadn't stopped was his mind whirring at a million miles an hour, escaping down a rabbit hole without him and he was left to chase after the implications.

"Mulder? Are you okay?" She tugged on his arm.

"Yeah. I'm good..." He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Have you thought..."

Scully stepped in front of his gaze,

"Have I thought what?"

She turned around and followed his line of sight like a red piece of string held in the air, connected to him stretched out beyond her. It was almost tangible the way he was focused so intensely like she could trail it with her fingers. She too stopped when she caught sight of what held his attention, the breath knocked out of her.

"Mulder don't be ridiculous. You and I both know it's impossible," she breathed.

He reached for the innocuous box, holding it tentatively.

"When was the last time you got your period? You haven't used any of the tampons we bought. It's been almost two months."

Anger broiled in her gut, wanting so desperately for him not to be correct. She hadn't thought about the tampons, why hadn't she thought about the tampons? She pushed aside all rationality in denial, feeding that fire that she might not recognise the pain.

"Mulder, just because I missed my period does not mean I am pregnant." Her voice was shaky with restrained emotion. "It's normal to miss a month once in a while, and with the stress of our current situa--"

"Just, please. And then we can rule it out for definite."

He looked mellowly at her, eyes soft with a mix of affection and concern, and she felt her resolve puddle.

"Fine," she sighed, half snatching the kit from him in her frustration.

He felt her rip at his heart as she grabbed it and he wanted to take it back, wish he never thought of it himself. She was frightened, he could tell in the way she projected her strength. But her strength only pushed him away from where he wanted to be most. He blamed himself for bringing this upon her, that he couldn't help her without harming her. He gently took her hand back and she looked at him, holding back tears that threatened to fall, holding back a heaviness in her breathing like cries threatening to spill. It made him queasy seeing the look that had haunted him the last couple of months return. Like a ghost, he saw her desperately cling onto everything familiar whilst inside she was starting to strip herself empty, using numbness as a defence. He wanted to give her back the smile that she had had earlier, fill her back up with laughter and love. He looked at the box.

Scully turned, slipping out of his hands to find the checkout. "You coming?"

Yeah, he thought.

Scully was silent in an all too familiar, daunting way. She stood in front of him, strong but rigid, confident but scared as she paid for the ginger ale, the paracetamol... the pregnancy test. He winced as she reached her hand back to touch his, felt the tremours brush through her fingertips as she stayed rigid.

She reached her hand back to ground herself in him, control the dizzying, drunk feeling of floating in a void of uncertainty. She was burning up from the inside with an injustice she tried to ignore, and the feel of his skin was cool enough to douse her and keep her anchored. Whatever happened she wanted him there, and she wanted him to know that. Whatever happened it was for both of them. She only hoped to god it wouldn't be true.

----------

Her fate was already sealed, she knew that, but if she prayed hard enough she felt like she could twist reality in her favour. Mulder was waiting outside the restroom and she was alone inside, holding the test between her fingers. The cap clicked loudly as she removed it from the tip of the test. Suddenly, her heart started to thump in her throat and her stomach tried to work its way up to meet it. Taking deep breaths, she did her best to push that anxious part of herself down. Her fate was sealed, and she wanted to trust God, whatever he had decided for her, but she wasn't sure she could. She wasn't sure he was still there for her. The only thing she could do was take the test.

----------

Mulder heard the toilet flush and, tipping his head back against the wall, he held his breath. He was leaning against the wall that separated him from Scully, waiting for the verdict. He didn't know what he wanted, except for Scully to be okay. He held onto that idea lest he start thinking of futures that could never be.

The restroom door opened and he stood up, watching Scully as she quietly walked out.

"Do we know yet?"

"No, we'll have to wait a few minutes."

She kept her head hung low, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you want to go and wait in the car?"

He touched her cheek and she startled, offering a weak smile when she saw his.

"Umm, yeah."

Mulder held the test level as they walked out, Scully clutching his other hand. She took a sip of the ginger ale, but it did nothing to quell the nerves brewing in her. Her walk was unsteady as she tried to ignore the other people around her. There was only her and Mulder in the world, but the loud intrusions of other people talking, of traffic, tested her to her limits.

Mulder leaned down to whisper in her ear, "It's okay: no one is watching us." and Scully smiled, reassured that his uncanny ability to read her was still strong. She leaned into his arm. Us, she thought, together in spite of the outcome.

They both sat in an itchy silence waiting for the time to pass, Scully stock still and Mulder fidgeting with his fingers. It was only a few minutes but it felt like hours, constantly checking the radio clock. The illuminated digits didn't change quick enough, every time they looked back at them they were the same as if time was standing still. Or at least time was going slower, edging towards entropy, the final moments before the answer closer and incrementally closer like Schrodinger's cat finally getting a diagnosis. Until she reached to turn the test over.

Scully looked at the stick and sat back, putting it back face down on the dashboard.

Mulder picked it up and a sudden surge of joy infected him, a grin spreading across his features. Two lines. Until he looked at Scully, whose eyebrows were pinched together as she stared up at the sunroof. Slowly she closed her eyes and let a single tear fall.

#maybe there's hope #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #on the run #Okay all caught up now 😊#xf fanfic

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bonsaiiiiiii · 4 years ago

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FabFiveFeb 2021 - Virgil week (2)

prompts: a question, “I don’t understand”

ok, here we are with part 2 of this lil ficlet! thanks to all the people that supported the first part, that you can find here. a special thank you to all the people that supported it recently, such as @nourelle-tracy, @louthestarspeaker, @gumnut-logic, @weirdburketeer, @janetm74, @lenna-z, @cg29 and many more that liked my fic! here’s the part 2 you’ve been waiting for!

^naturally, please read below^

Virgil woke up, massaging his forehead and eyes. There was a lot of light in there. He looked at the white above him, noting that that was definitely not the Tracy Island glass ceiling. He couldn’t even hear the voices of his brothers.

He tried to sit down, but the moment he touched the floor retracted his hand as if he had burned himself. It was cold, and...soft, and...white. He looked around, noticing an endless expanse of snow. A white sky and a snowy ground. He sat down, looking better around, and was able to see snowy trees, a cabin.. and an avalanche raging in his direction.

Frightened, he covered his head with his arms, his eyes shut and his breath unsteady, waiting for the impact. Nothing. He listened, and only at that moment he realized that there was no noise. That deafening noise of snow that he remembered well...all too well. He first opened an eye, then closed it, then opened them both, looking in the direction of the avalanche that was suspended in the air, still, motionless, with his hands still on his head. It looked like a tsunami wave, and the snow making dust all around looked like clouds. He took his arms off his head, holding them in front of him, then he stood up. Strangely it was all familiar to him.

"It won’t hurt you." a sweet, harmonious, but still faint voice, reached the ears of Virgil, who turned his head immediately in the direction of its source.

"Mom?" He stopped to look at that figure standing there, as if she had never died. She wore a white dress, looked like a cloud, or perhaps a Greek goddess, and a veil, attached to the woman’s ring fingers, fluttered all around that angelic figure, her black hair voluminous. She didn’t even look real to him.

"You shouldn’t be here." she said in a hurry, her serious expression, the pain visible behind her turquoise eyes.

"But..." Virgil approached slowly, step by step. "...what is this place?" Without noticing he was already in front of the woman.

"This is the place where you will wait."

"Wait for what? I don’t understand!" Virgil asked, and then he was silenced by a sudden sound. He instinctively watched the avalanche, which continued to remain suspended in the air.

'Entering...fibrillation...' Virgil heard a distant voice, a male voice. He could not connect it to any of his brothers. Then a monitor, like those in the hospital, made a horrible noise. The noise of a heart without a heartbeat. Then a deep bang. 'Again...' the voice again. Again the bang.

"You shouldn’t be here!" Lucille repeated. "You have to go back."

In a moment Virgil understood the situation. But..." No."

"But the others need you. Your brothers..."

"I’m sure Scott and John will get away with it. I want to be here with you."

"And your dad?"

"Dad will be the first one to get away without me. He’s building a space station with Brains." Still that empty noise, still that male voice. "I want to stay with you. You left too soon..."

"I know...but it’s not what you think, Virgil." Lucille gently placed her hands on his shoulder. Wait, was he ever that small? "Please, do it for me. I know you don’t want to, but come back, baby. Live your life for me too."

"But I’m only 15 years old. What great life can I live without you? You just left!" Virgil sobbed, trying to dry his face with his black sweatshirt.

"Don’t think about that. Just think about my voice. Close your eyes and listen to me, baby. Think about coming back to life. Promise me."

Virgil looked at her, her face clouded with tears. She smiled at him, nodding her head. He sighed, and then nodded in turn. "I promise. I will miss you..."

"I know...but don’t think about how I died anymore. Just think about the good memories we all had together." Lucille held her son in a long embrace. Her mother was so warm...it seemed that she had never died...

Virgil closed his eyes, and Lucille began to sing a sweet melody, her voice as beautiful as the notes of the piano he occasionally played after school.

The deafening noise disappeared, but the melody remained etched in his mind, as if his mother was still singing it. Now, instead of that fixed, empty noise, there was a sound...of beats. That meant he was alive, wasn’t it? So, if he had opened his eyes now...

And in fact he opened them, seeing only darkness before him. Then was this the world out there? So ugly and empty? He wanted to see beyond, but he realized he was being held by something. His mother’s voice was still echoing in his mind... He tried to wiggle himself out, almost immediately succeeding and noticing that what obscured his sight was nothing more than a female chest. The melody stopped being heard.

Virgil looked up, over him...and realized that his mother was looking back at him, the eyes of both widened in surprise.

"Mom...? You told me I was going back..." Virgil whispered, confused.

"Well..." Lucille was speechless. She expected his son to return safely to his body. She thought for a second, coming to the conclusion that... "If you’re here it means you’re not out of danger yet, but you’re alive! Your heart beats!" her hand shifted from his shoulder to his chest, raised in feeling her baby’s heartbeat. "Do you feel it?" She took his hand, making him carry it on his chest. She was moved.

Virgil smiled. "I feel it, Mom! But shouldn’t I have gone back?"

"Yes. It means you still have to wait a little while before you go home. But what matters is that you’re alive."

"Oh..."

"I’m sorry..." she said, removing a lock of hair from his forehead. The hair he inherited from her.

"Mom...I’m a little tired now..." Virgil found himself rubbing his eyes with one hand, and in Lucille’s eyes he still looked like a child. For her, even if the Virgil in front of her was that of his now 27 years old instead of his 15 years old self she would still see him as a child. Even if he was 80. If only she didn’t die so soon...

"Rest here, on my lap." Lucille said, sitting on the ground and lightly patting her knees. Virgil didn't want her to repeat it twice, lying down immediately, the snow that wet his pants even if he didn't really mind, as long as he was with his mother. He closed his eyes immediately...

...and reopened them shortly thereafter. Now, in that white sky that he expected to find once he opened his eyes, there was some ray of sun that seeped through the clouds and sparkled the snowflakes, as if it were raining glitter. He liked it. He was still in his mother’s lap, but she looked far...in the direction of the avalanche which was now sure to have been the cause of her death.

"I didn’t get too much sleep, did I?" he mumbled, his voice small.

Lucille turned her attention away from what she was looking at, looking down at her son. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, before smiling at him affectionately. "Nah...you only slept 10 years."

"Eh?" he exclaimed, leaping to the perch.

Lucille also stood up, patting away the snow from her dress. "I have to admit, that shirt doesn’t look bad on you." She added, and then took a step forward and took a flap of his shirt, inspecting the red-check lumberjack style and traveling with her eyes from the collar to the last button. She then took his shoulder, making him turn and looking better.

Virgil found himself blushing and stumbling on his own feet, embarrassed. He didn’t say anything, though, because when would something like that ever happen to him again? Sure, Grandma used to do that with all five of them every time one of them bought a new shirt, but if that gesture that came from his mother it meant something else entirely.

Lucille made him turn again so she could find his red face looking at hers. She gestured for him to lower himself, and he obeyed timidly. "Ah, I used to do your hair that way!" she exclaimed happily, removing some rebellious lock from his forehead and marveling at how much gel was on his head. "When you went to bed..." then she stopped.

"Continue..." Virgil implied, a silent pleading.

"When you were younger you always had your hair ruffled. You have so much of it, and yours is also very thick. When we used to take you to the barber, the cut he made only lasted as long as you got out of there. Look, bring some firewood to light the fireplace in, will you? You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out here in the snow..." She diverted the speech, pointing to the wooden pile next to the cabin. That cabin that used to be their mountain house, and then got sold as soon as possible once they got back to the Ranch with one less person.

Virgil nodded, though he did not feel any cold. Lucille briefly entered the house, a small strip of smoke emerging from the chimney after a few minutes, a sign that the fire was lit. She came out shortly after. "I lit the sticks and bark; do not take too big wood, now is not needed. Anyway, I used to say that because of your thick hair no hairstyle fit you, and then I really liked seeing you with your hair on one side, like you do now." She continued to tell, raising her voice a little while Virgil picked out some thin sticks to carry inside. "You, on the other hand, had a time when you liked all of Scott’s hairstyles and copied them."

He chuckled in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, yes! When Jeff took you to the family barber, you always wanted what Scott did too. You were 4, more or less. I remember one time when Scott had his hair dyed blue..."

He turned, wood in his hand. "Uhm?" Then he brought it in, while Lucille followed him closing the door behind him.

"You know those colored hair gels? The ones you wash off with a wash? Even if it wasn’t enough...we were damned to remove the blue spots that formed on your brother’s linings!" Lucille was very talkative, and she always had the gift of finding a topic to talk about; this feature was passed on to Gordon, but Alan was also a bit like her. Scott and John instead took after their father: less chatter, more actions. And Virgil...was a mixture of both.

"Yeah, I remember...he was seven or eight at the time." Virgil responded, carefully inserting the wood into the large stone fireplace to revive the fire.

"That’s it. Well, he did this once, and you liked his hair so much that you wanted to do it yourself, naturally green. So you and Jeff went to the barber, only that..." she stopped to smile, a very pleasant memory.

Virgil sat down to look at her, waiting for her to continue and trying to remember at the same time.

"When you came home, you were in tears. You clung to me crying and screaming that your hair wasn’t like mine anymore, and since that day, you haven’t listened to what Scott was doing, following your personal tastes a bit." Lucille sat down in front of the chimney, telling Virgil to approach her.

"I understand." he replied, crouching next to her, the wood crackling in the chimney. "Listen...I have a question."

"Only one?" she giggled.

"Well...no." He admitted smiling, to then get back serious.

"What do you want to know?"

"I really want to tell you so much..."

"From the start, baby."

"Do you miss Dad? Do you miss us?"

Lucille wasted no time answering. "Always." Then she sensed what Virgil wanted to ask her again. "I don’t regret having planned the holiday here."

Virgil looked at her, surprised but in a negative way. "No?"

"No. Never. I was glad to see you all having fun together. I’m just sorry things had to go this way." she stopped talking. "But you know what they say, don’t you? Historia magistra vitae. If it happened, it means it had to be this way."

Virgil nodded, not too convinced. "Anyway, I’m starting to remember...Dad isn’t there anymore either. He’s gone." His eyes got sadder and sadder.

Lucille remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I have to help my brothers. They're on their own, and without me...Scott might lose control."

"You saw that, too, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. He can’t do anything without me, the stupid. Not even to calm down."

Lucille smiled sweetly. "Maybe...but as long as you love him. You love them."

"How do I get back?"

"I don’t know how to answer that." Both were interrupted by a rather familiar voice.

"Speak of the devil..." Virgil said, listening to Scott’s voice, as silent as whenever one of his brothers got hurt. He was praying for Virgil.

(lol imagine not ending the chapter on a cliffhanger, can’t relate eheh. but worry not, here’s the 3 letters you were expecting!)

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #FabFiveFeb2021 #fabfivefeb #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Lucille Tracy #Jeff Tracy #part 2 whoooooooooooooooooo #and a possible part 3 too #maybe...#in the future...#okay enough keeping y'all on the edge #see you next time!

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cosmic-hearts · 4 years ago

Text

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | three

lee donghyuck x female reader

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; none

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after.

<< previous chapter | next chapter >>

Over the next couple of dates, it’s like a switch has been flicked in your relationship with Donghyuck. You could finally say with confidence that he’s a friend, and you’re grateful for this time with him; it feels like you’re both catching up on all the lost years.

Sure, he made fun of you constantly for that obnoxious heart-shaped Prada Odette Heart Bag you always carried around with you for casual dates, and for wearing Dior sneakers on the rare days you weren’t in heels. God, that bag looks like it’s for a twelve-year old. And who the hell wears Dior sneakers? I didn’t even know freaking Dior sold sneakers. You tried explaining to him that it was an AF1xDior collaboration special but that didn’t soften his judgement in any way, so you settled for calling him an uncultured jerk. And there was the time he got gravy on your prized pink bag and you nearly stabbed him with your butter knife.

But there were sweeter times too. When he was feeling generous and perhaps more than a little sentimental, he sang you songs as you two sat on the hood of his car, soaking up the moonlight. These days were rare and therefore exceedingly precious, and though you’d never tell him, you cherished them deeply. His voice whisked you away from this sublunary world, to a place filled with the breath of angels and flights of fancy, a place where you could build castles in the air and wonder what it would be like if what you had with Donghyuck was real.

You love every second with him.

That said, you’re already regretting your decision to go with Donghyuck to his senior high prom. Even your coveted Sadek Majed Summer Spring Couture gown (literally woven with all the blessings of spring) isn’t enough to keep anxiety from clawing its way through the perfectly fitted waistline. It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never actually been to a prom before.

It doesn’t get any better when you step into his school and all eyes are on you. Perhaps it’s your gown; you had a feeling you’d overdone it this time. You knew it from the moment you got into Donghyuck’s car and his jaw literally dropped. When you asked him what was wrong, he looked away, cleared his throat and gripped the steering wheel unnecessarily hard without bothering to reply. You knew maybe you’d taken it a little too far, but you didn’t think you looked that bad.

Donghyuck brings you to the auditorium, then promptly abandons you in search of Jaemin. You’d expected as much—Lee Donghyuck may have the voice of an angel, but he most certainly isn’t one.

You sip your glass of punch, and when you set it down you see someone’s come to sit opposite you.

“Hi,” she says, eyes curving into crescents, “I think we’ve met before.”

You take a good look at the girl; she’s dressed in a baby blue rafaela dress, obsidian locks tumbling across her shoulders, a sharp contrast to her alabaster complexion.

“Oh, that’s right,” you say, eyes widening in recognition, “Sohui, right? Donghyuck’s girlfriend?”

“Yup,” she says, “I just wanted to say thank you for that day. When you spoke up for me… I really appreciated it.”

You smile. “It’s no problem. Don’t worry about it.”

Sohui scoots over to sit next to you. “I absolutely love your dress. It’s so pretty.”

“Thanks. I really like yours too.”

Silence ensues for a moment, then she says, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what is it?” “It’s about Donghyuck.”

Your grip on your glass tightens just the slightest. Of course it would be about Donghyuck.

“I just wanted to ask, when will this whole fake dating thing end? I know I might seem like a really jealous girlfriend right now, but… I’m actually asking for Donghyuck.”

For Donghyuck? “I’m not sure,” you reply truthfully, “but I can try to speed things up. I’m sorry about having to hog him like this; I know it’s not easy for you both.”

Her perfect face almost melts with relief. “Thank you,” she says, “that would be great. Donghyuck’s just been really stressed lately and I’m worried about him.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why has he been stressed? Did he say something?”

Sohui sighs, her shoulders falling into a slump. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay then. I don’t know how to put this any other way, but… it might be because of you.”

And then she tells you. She finally tells you the reason why Donghyuck had spent the majority of his life hating you.

Your expression never once falters, not even a bit. Not even when Donghyuck returns and you witness his face light up at the sight of his real girlfriend.

You will not falter.

—

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, his voice filling the silence that had been permeating the car all the way back. “You’re being unusually quiet today.”

You fiddle with the embroidered flowers sewn into your dress, iridescent in the shaft of moonlight streaming through the car window. Tonight, even the beautiful artistry of fashion fails to make you smile.

“I’m just tired.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I didn’t ever think you could run out of energy at events like these. You always looked so perfectly put together at every single social function. Unlike me. God, I always found it all so tiring. I could never understand how you did it.”

You didn’t know me, you bite back the urge to say, just like how I still don’t know you.

It seems like years pass before he reaches your house, and for once, you can’t wait to bolt out of the car, to run as far away from him as possible.

“By the way, I wanted to tell you something.”

You respond with a questioning glance. Donghyuck’s gaze darts away from you and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“When I first saw you just now… I didn’t think you looked bad at all. Really.”

Your heart stills for a moment.

“I thought you looked... really pretty. I mean, you still look… really pretty, of course.”

You give him a polite smile, say thank you and goodnight, step out of the car and walk away until you hear the sound of the engine revving.

It is then that you finally fall apart.

“His hatred for you… it’s because he feels that you’re tying him down. Holding him back from all the things he wants to achieve. He told me that he hated you because he was made to marry you from the start and he viewed this marriage as a prison. He feels that you’re taking his freedom away from him.”

Your head spins.

“So you can probably see… having to spend all this time with you… it’s taking a toll on him. I think for his sake, you should end it soon.”

You let out a bitter chuckle at your own hypocrisy—you wanted to help him reach for the stars, but you’re the one who’s chaining him to the ground.

Your house stands before you like a castle gleaming in the starlight. You sigh, a soft sound that escapes immediately into the darkness.

All this time, you were merely building castles in the air. How naive of you to believe that what you and Donghyuck had could ever be real.

But you’re strong and you don’t need anyone, you tell yourself. You close your eyes, imagining the moonlight washing away the pain, the starlight making you new and whole again. You’ll be ready to make things right; it’s the least you can do for Donghyuck.

And you? You’ll be okay. You always are.

—

“Darling, you look absolutely fabulous.”

You won’t demur or say otherwise, not when you actually do think you look ready to rule the goddamn universe tonight.

You decided on a dress from POEM Couture’s autumn-winter collection, and you really do think you look like a dream, ethereal almost. Your hair is put up in a low tendril twist bun with curled wisps escaping from the knot, framing the sides of your face.

You’re about to head downstairs to check in on the decorations when your phone screen lights up with a message.

From: hyuck

happy birthday, see u later ;) mayhaps i got u a present

Jaw tightening, you put your phone facedown on your desk.

Don’t ruin your makeup, you say sternly to yourself, swallowing harshly to get rid of the sudden thickness in your throat.

You just need to get through this night and everything will be okay again.

—

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for being here to celebrate my daughter’s 18th birthday with us today.”

Donghyuck looks out at the sea of people in stiff suits and designer dresses, and pulls uncomfortably at his necktie. How many of these people do you actually know, he wonders? They’re probably your parents’ colleagues, friends, rivals, people they wanted to show you off to. They’re milling about at your birthday celebration, making polite, small talk and pretending like they actually want to be here.

“Y/N has always been the most perfect child,” your mother coos into the mic, “and we’re so lucky to have her as our daughter. Today is a very special day; our daughter has grown up into a beautiful young lady, with a beautiful mind of her own. And I’m so happy that she has finally found the one for her to blossom through her eighteenth year with.” She sends a wink in Donghyuck’s direction, and he offers back a weak smile while his own parents look proudly on.

He wonders where you are, and why you haven’t replied to his text. Then again, he imagines that you must be absolutely swamped with preparations for today. He makes a mental note to go find you later so he can pass you your present in private.

“All right, I won’t delay this anymore. After all, this is my daughter’s night, not mine. Everyone, I present to you, Y/N!”

Like magic, you appear from the shadows of the upper wing and all goes quiet.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen.

He doesn’t know much about fashion, but it doesn’t take much to realize that you’re dressed to kill tonight. The midnight purple bodice of your gown fades out into a lush pink in a glorious ombre, like twilight melding with a rosy sunrise. Your hair is delicately tied in a low bun, curly wisps gently kissing the sides of your face. Under the luminous light of the chandelier above, your skin is aglow with radiance, eyes aflame with a sparkle that takes his breath away.

As you descend the grand staircase, a hand on the gold rail, a regal aura is composed around you and time seems to stop. Donghyuck swears he can hear several sharp intakes of breath.

You look just like a princess.

You look like you have the blood of a royal running through your veins. If Donghyuck has the ability to command and captivate with his voice, you too have that same ability, but with your mere presence.

“Oh, my darling daughter,” your mother gushes, arms extended towards you. She raises a hand towards Donghyuck, signalling him to come over.

“I’m so glad you two are finally together. I mean, we knew it would happen all along, but now that it’s finalized, I can rest assured,” she announces, and Donghyuck finds that he can scarcely lift his eyes to meet yours; you’re simply too dazzling.

The crowd erupts into applause, and at first it is low, quiet him, but it soon morphs into a collective cheer, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You cast a despairing glance at your mother, trying to convey to her the sheer impropriety of such a notion, but she merely winks at you and whispers, “Don’t worry, we’re not all that old-fashioned.”

Unconsciously, you grab a fistful of your dress as your heart begins to race. You simply cannot kiss Donghyuck, that would literally be the end of you. Donghyuck would hate it with every fibre of his being, and you don’t want to force him into doing this; he would hate you even more than he already does. You absolutely cannot bear the thought of tasting the disgust on his lips—

A warm hand closes around yours, the one that’s nervously clutching onto the folds of your dress. Your fist uncurls and your relaxes as Donghyuck threads his fingers through yours, his grip firm but gentle. He places his other hand on your cheek and whispers so softly that you know it is meant for your ears alone,

“Can I kiss you?”

You look up into his eyes, expecting to find reluctance and discomfort, but instead, his eyes are burning with a sort of—you wouldn’t call it desire, not exactly, but more of determination to see this moment through, because he too knows that there’s no way out of this.

So you let your eyelids flutter shut to indicate your assent; you might as well get this done and over with, it’s all meaningless anyway and Donghyuck knows it too.

But the moment his lips meet yours, a shower of sparks explodes in your chest and you can feel your heart sing. Your grip on his hand tightens as you attempt to hold him close and you will this moment to last forever so that you can memorize the sweet taste of his lips on yours, the heat of his hand against your cheek, handling you with such gentleness and care you almost believe this charade you’re both playing is real. He presses his lips against yours just a little deeper, draws you closer to him ever so slightly, thumb stroking your flushed cheek, and a shiver of electricity jolts through your veins, sending a chill down your spine—maybe the castles you’d been building in the air can be real after all.

But this isn’t a fairytale, and your happy ever after won’t come by so easily.

Donghyuck’s lips leave yours. As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and the castles crumble right before you. You can’t hear the whoops and cheers arising from all around—in that moment, all you are aware of is Lee Donghyuck, gazing down at you with the darkness of midnight in his eyes and stardust streaked across his face.

You’re suddenly transported back to a cramped, dimly-lit closet, where a boy huddled so close to you you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear and see the beauty spots that speckled his skin. Like stardust.

“... if I kiss you, you might just fall in love with me. Can’t risk that now, can we?”

How right he is. You almost let out a sardonic laugh right then and there.

You’re royally screwed, and all it took was a single kiss.

—

You gaze out at the cityscape below you, breathing in the cool night air on the balcony and watching the twinkling nightlife of the rest of the world. You hope the chilly winds will cool the warmth in your cheeks and restore your former composure, so you won’t look like you’ve just been wrecked apart with the mere sensation of Donghyuck’s lips on yours.

That would be too humiliating.

You’re about to turn around and go back to the party, back to where you should be, when you feel a soft tug on your bun. Your hair escapes free from its tight hold and falls down your back, a long and lustrous stream illuminated by moonlight.

You turn to the side and see Donghyuck, eyes gleaming with mischief. The familiarity of this action makes your heart swell; it’s like he’s reminding you of the memories he made with you. It’s like he’s deliberately making this so damn difficult for you.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you haven’t returned me my Scrunchie,” you say, and Donghyuck lets out a loud guffaw.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it back soon.”

Then his gaze suddenly drops away from yours, towards the floor. He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks blazing. “About just now—,”

“Thank you for that. I really appreciated it, and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“N-No,” Donghyuck says, a little too quickly, “it was fine for me.. Really. I was actually wondering if you were okay with it.”

Oh, he had no idea.

“We did what we had to do, and that’s all that matters,” you reply, turning away from him to face the night.

You two stand in silence for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest as you gather up the courage let Donghyuck go.

Now.

“Y/N,” Donghyuck starts, right at the exact moment you say, “I think it’s time.”

Donghyuck tilts his head to the side, eyes focused on you. “You go first.”

You take a deep breath and plough forth. No turning back now. “I think it’s time to stop this. Tomorrow I’ll tell my parents that I want to cancel the engagement.”

Donghyuck freezes, eyes wide, and for a moment you think you saw a glimpse of hurt flash across his eyes. But you must be deluding yourself.

“Why?”

You raise an eyebrow in feigned incredulity. “What do you mean why? We were supposed to end all of this after we tried it out for a while, just to show our parents that we were putting in the effort. I’ll let them know tomorrow that I want to break up with you. I think we’ve fake dated for long enough and it should be enough to convince our parents. It’s time we both moved on, don’t you think?” you say, doing your best to keep your tone light while twirling a lock of hair around your finger and hoping you were a picture-perfect portrait of absolute indifference. And not a shaking mess.

Donghyuck’s eyes are glassy, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looked crushed.

“I just have one question,” he says, eyes boring into you, “well, two, actually.”

You lift your chin to meet his gaze, a defiant shine in your eyes and a coy smile on your lips. “Go ahead.”

“Did you feel anything when we kissed?”

It is your turn to freeze. Why would he ask this? And how can you possibly tell him that when he kissed you it was like a thousand angels were singing in unison, and you felt your heart soaring to places it had never been before? That if you could, you would grab his collar, pull him towards you and claim his lips just once more—

“Are you drunk right now, Lee Donghyuck? That’s literally the craziest thing to ask. Of course I didn’t.”

His eyes harden. “Great. Just… one more question then.”

You cross your arms over your chest because your hands are shaking visibly and you’re unable to stop them.

“Is this what you really want?”

Again, you’re assaulted by a wave of deja-vu—the same cold, starlit night on a different balcony, where he’d asked you the same question in all earnestness. Previously you weren’t sure if he really cared what you wanted, but now that you know he truly cares, it makes it all the more painful.

“I don’t want a model answer, Y/N. I’m asking you what you really want.”

You bite down hard on your lip, suppressing the wildness in you that screams no.

“Again, that’s a stupid question. Of course it’s what I want. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s what we both want, isn’t it? You wanted so much to break our marriage contract because you hate me. That’s why we’re doing all this in the first place.”

A film descends over his eyes at that moment and your heart breaks.

“You’re right,” he says after what seems like an eternity, voice barely above a whisper, “we should have ended this long ago. I’m sorry. For wasting your time.”

Your heart breaks at his words, even though you’d seen them coming from a mile away and you really don’t have the right to expect anything else. Your heart breaks at the way he’s already slipping away from you.

Even though he was never yours to begin with.

He steps closer to you and takes your wrist. You feel a prickle of electricity course through your bones, but he merely hands you a large shopping bag.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he says, with a smile that appears forced and yet genuine all at once. Like he really wants to smile at you but he can’t bring himself to.

And with that, he turns and leaves. You grip tightly onto the bag, fingernails digging into the skin of your palm as his silhouette fades back into the glow of the ballroom.

You don’t even have it in you to cry, to regret, to yell for him to come back.

Because the moment he left a gaping hole tore through you and now you are just too filled up with empty to feel anything.

—

Hey Y/N,

Happy birthday! I can’t believe it’s been so long since we started hanging out. Honestly, I’d long forgotten about our contract, and now that I think about it, it’s actually so stupid—how did we even come up with that bullshit? Then again, I guess I’m glad we did, because it gave us the opportunity to hang out and without it, I would never have known what a great person you are.

Here’s your Scrunchie (did you really think I wouldn’t give it back lol) and your birthday present, because I’m sorry I got gravy on your ugly ass Prada bag. Don’t worry, this one’s also from Prada, and I think it’s SO much nicer—my mum helped me get it custom made. I personally chose all the colors and the design, and it has your name inscribed inside so you’d better not lose it. Don’t you dare get gravy on this one or else I’ll literally come for your ass.

All right, now that that’s out of the way, it’s confession time. You’re right, I did hate you before (and it’s not because I hate pink, I swear), but I realized that it wasn’t personal. I just hated having to marry you, not because of you, but I just didn’t want to be in an arranged marriage. I thought that would take all my freedom away and I really didn’t want that. I’m sorry for hating you so much—that was just plain stupid of me.

But in a funny way, even though I saw you as killing my freedom, you were the one who gave it back to me—you were the one who rekindled my love for singing at a time when everyone around me was telling me I should give it up. I can’t believe you still remembered that I sing, by the way. I didn’t even know that you knew, so that was pretty cool of you. So yeah, I just wanted to say thank you for that, you have no idea how much it meant to me. How important it was to me. If you look inside the Prada bag you’ll find a USB drive. I’d actually been working on a song for you for a couple months just to say thank you. It’s called “Beautiful Time”, and I really hope you’ll like it.

I hope that whatever happens next, we’ll always be friends, because you’re seriously one of the coolest and strongest people I know. Sometimes I wish I had your strength; I don’t know if you know this, but you’re so strong it makes me jealous sometimes. It’s crazy how we’re the same age but you’re just so much more mature and stronger. You’re just… so amazing sometimes.

All right, before I puke writing this, let’s just end it here. Here’s to many more memories and great times, have a great birthday Y/N <3

Love, Donghyuck

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago

Text

Ardor.

Artist! Seb AU.

Requested.

Run-through: You’re a struggling model who is ready to accept any work. In your time of need, an unusual offer comes your way. You accept it without giving it a second thought; and you find love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

Themes: SMUT, fluff, artist! Seb

AN: This is a long fic, grab your food, drinks and blankets.

You were sure that if you weren’t ready and out of the door in less than a minute, Natasha – your agent, was going to murder you in cold blood.

“Y/N, I swear to God if you’re not ready and out of this door in a minute I will-,”

“Jesus! Calm down, I’m ready Nat. Let’s go,” you opened the door to your apartment, cutting her off and giving her the brightest smile you could.

Nat was standing outside, wearing a dark red dress. Her face showed her annoyance and you knew you were the cause for it.

“We were supposed to be there already, what took you so long?” she chided as she dragged you all the way down the hallway to the elevator.

You sighed.

“The people from earlier did a horrible job on my hair, so I needed to wash it. Sorry, Nat I know I’m not doing good right now, but I’m gonna do my best at the casting tomorrow. I won’t let you down,” you spoke sheepishly as the elevator descended.

It was true, you had hit rock bottom recently. You barely had enough money in your bank account for this month’s rent, and nothing was working out recently.

All the casting directors were turning you down, telling you that you should try your luck elsewhere. You had left your parent’s home 2 years ago, in rage – because they didn’t support your dream of being a model. According to them, it’s not a real job. And that exposing your body for money didn’t make you any different than the women in the streets.

You were on your own, until you met Natasha. She was your agent, manager of your life, friend, big sister; everything.

She had put in a word for you and you had a few shoots with a couple of well-known brands during the past year, but as of right now – nothing was working out, and you could tell it was stressing her out.

Nat looked up at you and smiled.

“I know you won’t, I believe in you, Y/N. However, if tonight works out like I want it to, you might not even need to go to that casting tomorrow,” she finished with a wink, and a smirk.

Oh boy. You knew that look.

“What does that mean? And why are we even going to that stupid art exhibition anyways?” you asked as the two of you stepped out of the elevator and walked out of the apartment building.

You tried your best not to trip on the fabric of your burgundy dress. It was a lovely evening gown, flowy and light; a satin so smooth that you could help but touch the fabric occasionally. It was definitely the kind of dress you couldn’t afford if it weren’t for Nat.

She knew designers who set you up with the outfit, and the jewelry.

Catching a quick glimpse at yourself in the glass door of the building, you got in the passenger seat of Nat’s car.

“It’s not just any art exhibition, its Sebastian Stan’s latest pieces. And rumor has it, he’s looking for an art model for his next project. And if you’re lucky enough, he might choose you,” Nat explained and you nodded.

“Where did you hear that rumor? Dude’s a millionaire, why would he need me? I’m sure he’ll go after one of the famous faces,” you spoke in a dull tone, your tiredness getting the best of you.

You had barely slept the night before.

Nat took a sharp turn which startled you, causing you to glare at her playfully.

“He’s looking for a fresh face, someone who’s not all over the city. You might have a chance, just look interested and compliment his work if you ever see him,” Nat spoke, glancing over at you.

You gave her a puzzled look.

You had heard about how good if an artist Sebastian Stan was, and you had heard the prices at which his pieces sold. But you had never seen him. There were no pictures of him anywhere, and you weren’t famous enough to personally mingle with a man of his caliber.

“How would I recognize him? I’ve never seen him before, have you?”

“Nope, but they say he’s very handsome, and charming,” Nat replied.

You nodded and the rest of the car ride was silent. You got busy on your phone, or pretended to be busy rather. This industry was ruthless, everyone was fake. Natasha was your only friend at the moment.

Minutes later, Nat parked outside a grandiose gallery and handed the key to the valet outside as the two of you made your way inside.

Nat held the two invites close to her and finally handed it over at the reception. The lady smiled and pointed you towards the entrance of the hall.

“Everything and everyone here are so…expensive. How did you even get the invite?” you questioned, looking around, yet avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you walked behind Nat. She turned around and smirked at you.

“I have connections, baby,” she winked again and paused in her tracks.

You stopped as well, and looked around, suddenly feeling very out of place.

“Okay, I’m gonna to put a word in for you with a few people. I’m gonna need you to cooperate, alright? Straighten those shoulders, chin up, grab a wine, look pretty and talk to people, okay? Text me if there’s anything and remember, men like to be praised. If you run into Stan, work your magic,”

Nat walked away quickly, swaying her hips on purpose and making every men, and women, in the room stare after her. You chuckled at her words and followed her instructions.

You grabbed a glass of white, sparkling wine, and walked around lazily, earning a few looks and smiles from men. You wondered if anyone of them was Sebastian Stan.

You looked at the art pieces and found that you actually enjoyed them. They were all painting of flowers, some were abstract even and the mess of colors were comforting in a sense. Chaos could be beautiful, right?

You noticed that all of them were colored, except for the largest painting in the room. A rather large black and white sunflower in the furthest corner of the room; almost as if placed there so that no one would pay attention to it.

Colorless, but it was beautiful. Surprisingly, no one paid much attention to it, except for one man. You noticed a tall man, with his hand in his pocket and a wine glass in the other, just staring up at the canvas. He was standing there alone while everyone else was socializing.

Must be a fan, you thought.

You felt naturally gravitated towards the man. You hadn’t seen his face yet, but his stance gave away a lot. As you walked over to him, you noticed the very expensive watch on his wrist as he raised his glass to his lips. His well-tailored, light grey suit added to his valor.

Just for a moment, you felt inferior. But Natasha’s words echoed in your head and it pushed you forward.

You walked up to him and stood right a few feet away, and noticed that his gaze were fixated on the painting.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you spoke, trying to incite a conversation.

The man finally turned his head to look at you, and just for a moment, he looked at you as if he had found the answer to each and every question he ever had. Wide-eyed and he looked as though he had been dreaming of this moment.

You were immediately captivated by his dreamy, blue eyes. He was indeed, dreamy. His hair was messy, yet well groomed at the same time. A well-kept beard, he looked like your typical ladies’ man.

He broke out of whatever reverie he was caught up in and blinked, smiled and nodded.

“You think?” he asked, and you gave him a confused look. What a weird response.

“Yeah, I mean I don’t understand art that much, but I think it stands out. I think it’s beautiful. Don’t you, I mean you’ve been admiring it for quite a while,” you spoke and smiled at him.

You didn’t miss the way he shamelessly eyed your body, his eyes lingering around the risqué slit of your gown which showed your legs. You looked down for a moment and then looked back at him as soon as he spoke up again.

“An artist never admires his own work, doll. He looks for the flaws no one else can see,” as soon as those words left his mouth, you froze.

Fuck.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were- I don’t -,”

He cut off your rambling by taking a couple of steps towards you.

“It’s okay. What’s your name, doll?” he asked, his words carried a playful tone. His blue eyes bore into yours, making it very difficult for you to focus on anything else.

“I… I’m-,”

“Sebastian Stan, it’s lovely to meet you finally. I see you’ve met Y/N already,” Natasha spoke up from behind you and you mentally thanked God she was here.

“Miss Romanoff, it’s a pleasure. Y/N is delightful,” he spoke, taking Nat’s hand and shaking it gently.

Natasha gave you a sly smirk which spoke volumes.

“I’m sure you will consider her while making a choice for your next project, correct? Y/N will be in town, contact us whenever,” Nat, always so confident, spoke and gave Sebastian one of her very business-y smiles.

Sebastian smiled back and glanced at you.

“I assure you, I won’t forget her,” he said, his voice was velvety and soothing.

Those words repeated themselves in your mind all night.

After your brief interaction with the man of the hour, you and Nat walked around and talked to a few more people and she introduced you to people whose names you forgot almost instantly.

All night, you could shake off the fact that you felt as though you were being watched. A burning stare on your face or your back. And each time you turned around, you would find Sebastian eyeing you.

You were okay with being watched, it formed part of your job to catch one’s attention, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you.

He wasn’t just looking, he was… studying almost; memorizing each curve and each feature. You wondered why.

However, you very quickly got your answer.

“Oh my god!” Nat exclaimed as soon as the two of you stepped into your apartment.

You sighed and took your heels off, throwing them carelessly onto the floor.

“What now? Which lousy photographer needs a lingerie model right now?” you spoke from past experience. You had been there, and done that. And it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

“It’s not- fuck! It’s Stan’s people! He wants to meet up with you tomorrow! Y/N, do you have any idea how big this is? This is amazing!” Nat was genuinely happy for you.

You were too, as this was probably the big break you needed.

Nat went on and on about how this was good for your career and how lucky you are. She gave you all the details; time, address, along with some advice and left at around 2 a.m. As you laid in bed that night, you found yourself unable to fall asleep as the image of a certain blue-eyed handsome man kept resurfacing in your head.

---

The next morning, Nat was at your door at 9 a.m. sharp. After a quick breakfast, the two of you set out.

She dropped you at Sebastian’s place an hour later, and you were a nervous wreck by the time you got there.

“What if he makes me sit naked in front of him for hours? What if-,”

“Y/N, don’t over think, please. Artists employ models privately all the time. He’s a decent man, don’t worry. Now go,” she urged you to step out of the car.

“He could’ve asked for pictures, I- Nat, I’m scared, what if-,”

“He’s an old soul, Y/N. The guy’s old-fashioned, you’ll be fine honey. Now get the fuck out, walk in there and everything will be fine, babe. Call me if there’s anything,”

You clutched your bag close to you and reluctantly stepped out of the car.

Nat drove away as soon as you were out of the car, and it was just little you facing the lavish apartment building. Nat told you that he owned the penthouse on top. And that’s where you found yourself just minutes later.

Your heart pounded for some weird reasons, as you knocked on the wooden door. You heard footsteps approaching and you immediately started channeling your alter ego; the more confident, bubbly one.

The door flew open, revealing a very handsome, blue eyed man.

Sebastian Stan.

Dressed in a simple white t-shirt, and black sweatpants, he looked much different than the night before. A bit more relaxed and casual if you will, but just as handsome.

“Hi,” you chirped, smiling as bright as you could. He returned the smile.

“Y/N, come on in. Oh and, excuse the mess,” he warned as he let you in. You chuckled as you walked in. Being who he is, the place was a true mess.

He had very minimal furniture, a couple of couches maybe and that was it. The walls looked like a child was given the freedom to do whatever he willed with it; paint and sketches adorned the cream walls.

The floor was tainted as well; stained with spilled paint. Crumbled newspapers, broken canvas, and paint brushes littered the entirety of the room.

He laughed nervously as you took in the room more and more.

“I don’t live here by the way, I’m not an animal I promise. This is more like a workshop,” he explained, standing right behind you as you stopped briefly and stared at one of the unfinished painting on a canvas on the floor.

“Why didn’t you complete that one?” you asked, curious as to why he left the artwork unfinished.

He chuckled.

“Couldn’t find the right inspiration, that’s been happening a lot lately,” he spoke, and you caught the despair in his voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you involuntarily took a step towards him. He stayed put and allowed you to approach him.

“It’s alright, doll. That’s why you’re here today. If you’re good, can we start?” he asked, with excitement in his eyes.

You smiled and nodded. He immediately rushed to grab his stuff; an easel, a blank canvas and he picked up a few brushes along the way. He was such a mess it was adorable. And you had to refrain yourself from laughing as you watched him avoid the empty paint cans and broken canvas on the floor.

He set everything up in front of a couch and grabbed a stool.

“Come here, doll,” he called out to you, grabbing a couple of pencils off the ground. The endearing nickname he gave you made you feel a certain ways. And the way he said it, the way his voice got softer and how his eyes sparkled had you feeling tingly everywhere.

You walked over to where he was and stood on front of his canvas. You dropped your bag and waited for his instructions.

He eyed you and the corners of his mouth lifted again; smiling softly at you.

“Take your clothes off,” he spoke softly. His voice was smooth, and velvety, yet – something changed in him.

He seemed more observant, and more focused once you took your white top off; revealing your lacy, nude bra.

Nat had chosen it, and you couldn’t tell whether it was a preference or a requirement which came from Sebastian.

Either way, it seemed to work as he had a pleasant smile on his face as you stripped.

Next were your pants, taking them off revealed your nude thong and your bare legs.

“Perfect,” he spoke, standing up and walking towards you. You were fine with being in very little clothing, but there was something about the way he looked at you which made you feel a certain way.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the black couch. He sat you down and eyed your body again; observing, studying, and thinking – all while twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers.

You looked up at him; and he was majestic. There was an innocence in his eyes, yet, a mischief.

“Lose the bra,” he spoke and your face burned red as soon as the words escaped his mouth.

“Pardon?” you asked, almost out of instinct. Well, it wasn’t everyday a famous painter had you in his place, sat you down on his couch and asked you to strip.

“It’s alright, doll. We’re gonna do some sketches today, we’ll try different poses and props and then you can be back tomorrow so we can work some more. Sound good?” his voice was calming, and comforting.

Honestly, if felt as though he had you under his spell. You would follow him anywhere if he simply asked you to.

“Okay,” you whispered and he smiled and left temporarily.

You stood up and unhooked your bra, allowing it to fall down carelessly. Right as it did, you felt a presence behind you.

Keeping your shyness under control, you lifted your chin up and faced him with fake confidence. He eyed you for a second and then looked down at the bunch of flowers in his hands.

Sunflowers.

You smiled at the irony, temporarily forgetting that you were standing in front of him in nothing but a nude colored thong.

“I couldn’t color the sunflower last time. I have a feeling I will this time, because I have my muse now. Here you go, doll,” he smiled and handed you the flowers, and you understood that that would be your first prop.

Sebastian sat on his stool and observed you for another minute while you settled among the pillows of the couch, bending your leg under you.

You held the sunflowers in front of you as a means to hide your chest but also showing enough to keep someone guessing.

Sebastian gave you a smile, and began working on the canvas. You heard his grunts, and sighs and the strokes of his pencil against the canvas. You had to stay still, so you admired the flowers in your hand.

He worked quickly, and made rough sketches as much as he could, and then gave you another prop. Next was a clean, white bed sheet; which you wrapped sensually around you – barely covering anything as you looked directly at him.

You watched how he chewed on the top of a pencil while another one was in his hand, making rapid movements against the canvas. He had nothing but determination in his eyes each time he looked at you and then back at the canvas.

2 hours later, you were done for the day. He showed you the canvas he used and laughed when you told him all you saw was a mess of lines and curves.

“It’ll make more sense when it’s done. You were so good today, doll. Thank you,” he smiled as you got dressed.

You were having trouble putting on your bra again so he hooked it for you. The two of you seemed much more comfortable with one another, and nudity was no longer a problem on your part. You trusted him, and he made you feel safe, in some ways you couldn’t explain.

His warm fingers brushed against your back as he adjusted the straps of your bra and allowed his fingers to linger around the back of your neck; making you shiver.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered under his breath and you turned around to face him. He was standing so close that your faces were merely inches away from one another.

“Thank you, Sebastian,” you whispered, and for a very brief moment, your eyes flicked to his lips. Parted, pink and sinful – they were tempting. He was tempting.

It felt as though he inched forward for a quick second, but he caught himself before he did something unexpected.

He cleared his throat as he backed away and gave you space to put your shirt back on.

“I texted Miss Romanoff, she’s waiting for you downstairs,” he spoke, as he had to force himself to keep his hands from touching you.

He was utterly under your spell. He felt as though he would take any leap of faith if you just asked him too. He was whipped ever since he first saw you that night at his exhibition.

You exchanged a brief goodbye and he watched you as you left. He mentally cursed at how gracefully you walked out of his messy penthouse.

Your hips swaying; teasing the living shit out of him.

The past few hours with you had been a blessing and a curse. He knew he did many double takes while drawing because he was so easily distracted by you. As if your face wasn’t pretty enough, you absolutely had to have a body which could make a man lose his mind. And your eyes… oh your eyes.

They had a playfulness in them, but they also held a mischievous promise.

Sebastian was never one who would get so attached to someone so fast, but damn did he feel all the butterflies in the world whenever he thought about you.

Earlier, he had to refrain himself from walking over to where you were and have his way with way with you on the couch itself. But he knew he couldn’t. You trusted him, and he had to be careful.

What he could do though, is elongate the process. He could stretch it so you spend more time with him than needed. It was selfish and unprofessional, but he had to.

Sebastian stood in the middle of his messy room and took his phone out, naming the amount he needed to pay you to his people. His assistant was shocked for a moment, and asked him to confirm. He repeated it.

Five grands. He thought you deserved it.

---

When Nat called you later that night to tell you about the payment, you were shocked.

“Nat, something must be wrong. Most art models make under a hundred dollars an hour! Five fucking thousand, are you sure?” you asked, yelling into the phone.

Nat was sure.

Good God.

You were to meet up with him the next day as well, and you thought you should bring it up.

For today’s session he had you in a very expensive looking, red gown made of pure silk. You had a deep, deep cleavage, and the back of the dress was practically non-existent. But it was beautiful. And looked like it cost a fortune.

Sebastian drew you at a different location, and a different angle. He was closer now, and you were on the floor, amongst the crumpled newspapers and paint brushes and broken canvas; sat on a pillow.

You pointed out the evident mess and Sebastian called it his organized chaos.

You laughed.

A few moments of silence later, you believed you should bring up the payment.

“So, um, Sebastian?”

“Yes, doll?” he replied from behind the canvas, which was so large that it hide his body entirely.

“About yesterday’s payment… uh, I think there might’ve been a mistake while they were writing the check given to Nat,” you spoke, trying your best not to move while you spoke.

He lowered his hand and moved aside to face you; a puzzled look on his face.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You shrugged.

“I don’t – its just, that’s a lot more money than I was expecting and-,”

Sebastian stood up, and started walking over to where you sat. Your words cut short. You watched him as he carefully avoided the mess on the floor and squatted down in front of you.

His hand reached out and touched your face. He was silent, as his fingers caressed your cheek, and you had to resist the urge to lean into the warmth of his hand.

“You’re not just any art model, doll. You’re my muse. You’re what I need, okay? You deserve it,” he spoke and leaned forward again, but quickly stood up.

Sebastian suggested you should take a break.

Minutes later, you finished that day’s session.

---

A week had passed, and you had visited Sebastian every day, and spent hours with him. It might sound boring, but he was an amazing company. He had travelled the world, so he often told you stories which made you laugh.

You told him the story of your life, and how your parents did not support your dreams. And how it sucked.

And he told you about how he came from a modest family, and how he initially started painting to earn extra money to contribute to his family’s income; and how he fell in love with art and made a successful career out of it.

He was an interesting man, a little old fashioned like Nat had pointed out; but interesting nonetheless. You learned that he was much older than you were, and he pretended he was 70 and had funny ‘opinions’ on today’s youth.

He was a good company.

Yet, you were still shocked with each check he sent with Nat, they were hefty.

On Sunday, he had something urgent to attend to, so your session was at night. He had contacted Nat and had asked her to let you know that he would be waiting for you at around 8 30 p.m.

And there you were, always punctual whenever he called.

When you reached his door however, something was different. There was a scent which lingered around. It smelt like peaches and vanilla. Smelt like summer, and happiness.

You frowned and knocked on the door. Sebastian was at the door almost immediately; smiling and looking good as ever in his grey t-shirt and black sweatpants – covered in spots of paint.

You smiled back, and noticed that the room behind him was darker. Much darker than normal.

He invited you in and the scene did surprise you a bit. The lights were off, and there were at least a hundred candles lit – everywhere.

And it all smelt divine. You smiled as you looked around, and Sebastian watched you intently.

“I wanted to change things up a little. I hope that’s okay,” he asked, biting his lower lip.

Oh fuck.

“Oh- yeah, I- I mean, it’s so beautiful. I guess I didn’t know artists paint at night, in dimmed lights but oh well,” you added, making him chuckled.

He stared into your eyes for a while, and you did the same.

You wondered if he was silently trying to convey something, or was he just doing his job and studying you in this light.

While he wondered what Sunday nights would be like if you were his. Would it be like this? Would there be scented candles, and wine maybe?

Maybe he’d have you in his lap, both of you wearing nothing while he painted, or teach you how to draw and watch you fail because you simply cannot do it.

Perhaps you’d fuck on the couch, or the floor. Or maybe you’d like his real home better than the workshop.

He broke out of the reverie and cleared his throat.

You lowered your gaze as well. You didn’t know how else to describe, but there was this pull. This invisible thread which connected the two of you. None of you saw it, but both of you felt it.

“We should get to work, yeah?” he spoke, avoided eye contact and walked past you.

You sighed, trying you best to ignore the sudden tension in the room.

“Yeah, what do you want me to wear today?” you asked, smiling; just like you did every other day. Some days he had gowns, other days he had other props, or even flowers.

He picked up a pencil from the ground, a few feet away from you and stood up straight to meet your eyes again.

“Nothing,” he replied, his eyes soft and shiny in the candle light. The blue in his eyes were enchanting.

You didn’t question his decision, Nat had told you not to. And given he paid you way more than he needed to, you agreed immediately.

Sebastian smirked initially, but his smirk disappeared as soon as you took your top off, then your skirt. You wore a matching set of red underwear that day, and you took that off as well; letting it fall soundlessly on the floor.

Shoulders straight, chin up, you faced him with confidence, and a polite smile. After all, you were only doing your job.

It was your turn to smirk as he allowed his eyes to shamelessly take in your bare appearance. His soft, pink lips parted as you took a step forward.

“Where do you want me?” you asked, in your ‘I-mean-business’ voice. You could tell that the question took him off guard, perhaps it was the way you had phrased it. Both of you caught the subtle naughtiness in your words.

“I- yeah… the couch. The couch, first,” he stuttered. And your smirk grew wider as you walked past him, avoiding the candles and making your way towards the brown couch.

As you walked by him, you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter ‘Holy fucking shit’ under his breath. Whatever, you looked good and you knew it.

Making your way on the couch, you settled down and waited for his instructions. He handed you a red, silky fabric, which you carelessly threw around your waist; hiding your private parts even though he had already seen every inch of your skin.

Sebastian settled behind the canvas which he already had set up and picked up his pencils. He looked back at you and started drawing and the lines on his forehead appeared again. He looked so adorable when he was focused on something.

Then you noticed things about him which you didn’t before; the bags under his eyes, the little grey patch in his full beard, the way he raised his eyebrow occasionally, and the little smirk after he did something right, or the little frown when he messed up.

You admired him.

He did too.

He knew your body by heart, each curve and each feature. He knew the exact color he would use to paint your lips, and your eyes.

He knew exactly how to draw your hair, on some days it was messy, some days it was pin straight, and his personal favorite was when you let it down in soft curls.

He found himself fantasizing about you right in front of you. Whenever you left, he often laid on the couch and dreamed about what it would be like to have you on top of him.

He felt the tension in between you too, and he didn’t know what to do about it. All he could focus on was the canvas; luckily it hid the hard on in his pants.

“Are you alright, Sebastian?” you asked out of nowhere. Hidden behind the canvas, Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment. Your voice did things to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, doll. Why?”

“It’s just, you’ve been very silent,” you replied. He smirked, loving how well you observed him.

He peeked from behind the canvas, the smirk still very visible on his face. His eyes momentarily flicked to your exposed breasts and then back to your face.

You had red lipstick on today, he liked it. And desperately wanted to ruin it with his own lips.

Mindlessly, he stood up and approached you. You thought it was time to change the location or grab another prop but instead, he knelt in front of you.

His eyes sparkled in the dimmed lights; soft yet hungry. His hair was messy, and his shirt was covered in paint still, he looked good.

You leaned forward and looked down at him, neither of you minding that your breasts were right in his face.

His eyes never left yours as his hand reached out and cupped your face. You let him.

His thumb caressed your cheek, and this time, you did lean into his touch and felt the warmth of his hand against your skin.

Nothing had to be said, you both knew what the other wanted. Like earlier, you felt the pull again.

Sebastian pulled you towards him and connected his lips to yours in no time. His soft lips moved perfectly along with yours.

Your hands left the satin sheet and cupped his face, his beard soft against the palm of your hands.

His hunger could be felt through the kiss; tongue slipping into your mouth without any warning. And you returned the ardor he felt for you.

He kissed you feverishly, scared to let go of you just yet. He wanted more, and so did you.

He pulled away for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. He panted against your lips, and so did you.

“I want you, so fucking bad,” he whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for any objection. And when he didn’t find any, he smirked again.

“I want you too,” you whispered, looking into his clear, blue eyes which you loved so much.

He pecked your lips again and pushed you back into the couch, your back against the messily thrown cushions.

You sighed as he slowly removed the satin sheet off your body, and placed it side carefully. His hands ran down your thighs and reached your knees. His eyes remained focused on your face as he parted your legs; inching forward and settling in between them.

His hand ran down your legs and your skin felt tingly at his touch. He bit his lip as he noticed that your folds were damp already.

His hand reached out and he ran his knuckles along your wet folds, making you shudder at his mere touch.

“All that for me?” he teased, and you nodded, giggling at how the two of you were casually getting cozy in the middle of a messy workshop.

Sebastian placed an innocent kiss on your inner thigh and you gasped.

“I deserve to get a taste then,” he whispered, face dangerously close to your core. You bit your lip and nodded, anticipating what he had in store for you.

He placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core.

You moaned out loud involuntarily as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your sensitive bud mercilessly.

Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful.

A man of his caliber, on his knees in front of you, his head in between your legs and his mouth touching your body in the most intimate way possible. Pleasure and an unusual power washed over you.

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his beard rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more.

Sebastian’s beard glistened in the candlelight; your arousal drenching the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming on the couch.

“Fuck…” you moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

“Fuck! Come on, baby, come for me,” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue; relishing your taste.

You didn’t have to be told twice, and the pressure was building up nicely as well. So with a few more strokes of his skilled tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face.

He didn’t stop even then, he kept at it while your orgasm washed over you; lapping up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You chanted his name, moaning at how good he made you feel. That boosted his pride immensely.

He licked you clean and kissed your thighs a few more times before finally standing up, admiring how much of a mess you were; panting, and trembling just with his tongue.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, looking down at you.

You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, and sat up on your knees. Your heels pressing on your ass cheeks and you pulled him closer by the waistband of his sweats.

He smirked, and let you, stepping closer to your face.

You lowered down his pants, and bit your lip when you saw that he wore nothing underneath. You looked up at him and wondered if he had this all planned. Either way, you were in way too deep now. And you wanted him so bad it actually hurts.

You ignored your throbbing clit as you held his member gently in your hand. Feeling the velvety skin which made your mouth water.

You gently stroked his cock, and noticed that his tip was leaking already. You brushed your thumb across his tip and heard him groan.

“May I?” you asked, looking up at him; knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t even dream about refusing you.

“I’m all yours, doll. Do with me as you please,” he whispered, his hand cupping your face as the other one brushed your hair gently. His voice was deeper than usual and it sent a shiver along your spine.

Without wasting a second, you took him into your mouth; pushing him in further inch by inch while he groaned about how good you felt.

Your hand reached down and toyed with his balls while you slowly took him out and pushed him back into your mouth again, bobbing your head around his tip.

He gripped your hair gently and told you how much of a good girl you were.

His taste and scent was all you could focus on; his strong body wash and his raw taste, the occasional saltiness of his cum and the feeling of his smooth skin against your tongue and the top of your mouth. You felt the veins, and his firm cock ramming in and out of your mouth.

He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. You looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly.

You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he moaned your name over and over again as he reached his high.

With one rough push into your mouth, you felt him come undone. His cum trickled down your throat and you swallowed him obediently.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. You lips were swollen, and spit ran down your chin along with his cum. You were panting; an overall mess. Yet, he believed you were beautiful. Magnificent.

His eyes were darker, and he was silent again; just observing you while you caught your breath. He pressed his lips to yours and slipped his tongue back into your mouth, eagerly.

You felt his tongue stroke the top of your mouth, and his hands touched you wherever he could; your breasts, your waist – leaving trails of goose bumps wherever his fingers touched your skin.

Removing his mouth from yours, he stood up again and took his shirt off, and his pants; leaving him just as bare as you were.

And God, he was beautiful. Perfect.

He climbed onto the couch and lowered his body until he hovered just inches above you. His strong arms supported him above you and your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders.

He looked into your eyes for a brief moment then his head dipped into the crook of your neck; biting your skin and making you squirm and giggle under him.

You felt his body heat around you, and everything was right in the world.

“Fuck… do you have any fucking idea what you do to me? Do you know how hard it was getting through this week? With you sat there naked in front of me the whole time, doll, I was losing my fucking mind,” he whispered along your skin. His hair tickled your skin and you smiled, closing your eyes and relishing his touch.

The tip of his nose ran along your throat and right to your ear, where he whispered all his obscene thoughts, making you blush.

While he did so, you felt something firm press against your thigh, and you smirked at the effect you had on him.

“Well, I’m here now. I’ll be good to you, I promise,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair and he lifted his head and stared into your eyes again.

Fuck, he was beautiful from up close.

Without another word said, he pressed his lips to yours and lifted his hips to align his cock to your entrance. You spread your legs apart to give him more room.

His hand reached down and he pumped his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process.

“I know you will, doll. I’m gonna fuck you until you’re shaking under me,” he whispered a promise in your ear; one which caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. A promise you hoped he’d keep.

With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him, his beard tickled your skin as he kissed your lips repeatedly and told you how good you were.

You heard his ragged breaths right by your ear as he removed himself out and pushed himself back into you again.

You moaned out loud, unable to hold back the sound which escaped your lips. You blushed right after, and he noticed.

“No one’s up here, babe. Let me hear you,” he whispered into your ear and kissed the skin beneath your jaw.

You let out a moan as he found your sweet spot, and felt him smirk against your skin.

You moaned again and again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you and pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Your nails sank into his skin as you felt a pressure forming around your lower region. Sebastian quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the empty room.

The candlelight made his skin seem golden and you mentally admitted that he was more beautiful than any artwork ever made.

He thought the same about you.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. The new position was much more pleasurable for the two of you; the tip of his cock touched your most sensitive spots and your back arched off the couch – your chest pressing against his.

“Fuck…” his voice cracked as he whimpered in your ear. He somehow sounded vulnerable and dominant at the same time, and it messed you up in a good way.

You felt your walls clench around him, and tightening around his thick member; making him swear out loud.

“Shit! I’m gonna need you to come for me, doll. Come on,” he panted in your ear, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand.

He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came – hard.

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core.

Sebastian fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping even for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt and wished for this moment to last forever.

Unable to form coherent sentences, you moaned as you felt your second release approaching. Your legs were numb, and your body moved along with his like a rag doll; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You craved him.

A rush coursed through your veins as you felt your mind clouding with lust again.

A series of cuss words left your lips as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length.

He bit down on your shoulder as you lifted your hips to meet his thrust; chasing your release. Your body trembled under him as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded into you. This man had a stamina you weren’t sure you could match.

“Fuck! You okay, doll?” he asked, worry all over his face as he looked down at you; his cock still buried deep in you.

You nodded, and focused on calming down your breathing while your heartbeats rang in your ear. His blue eyes made you feel safe.

You knew he hadn’t cum yet, and the look in his eyes gave away that he was far from being done.

“That was… amazing,” you panted and he bent down to kiss your forehead, chuckling.

“Sure was, doll. But I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your face.

You noticed the thin layer of sweat which formed on his skin, and how he slowly removed his still erected cock out of you.

You whimpered as you felt a void where he had been, snug into you just moments before. He was right there, and yet, you missed him.

He sat back on his heels, and pulled you up along with him. Trembling, you sat up in front of him and he smiled softly down at you.

His hand reached out and tugged on your swollen lower lip.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he spoke as he got off the couch and asked you to turn around and grip the back of the couch.

You knelt in front of him on the couch, legs spread apart, hands gripping the back of the couch while your back faced him. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was there – right behind you.

His hand gripped your hair gently, and pulled back just enough so you saw part of him.

His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and making you tremble.

You were worn out, and you weren’t sure you would last very long. But he was seductively persuasive.

“Just one more time, baby. One more,” his voice was deep and gravelly when he spoke in your ear, his tongue licking along your neck while he abruptly stopped toying with your folds.

His hand gripped your hair and tugged on it, harsher than earlier and his action elicited an involuntary moan out of you.

Once you nodded, frowning at how you wanted him to completely ruin you.

He pulled back from your neck and kissed along your shoulders. He pushed you forward, making your ass stick out against him.

His hand left your hair and he gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you.

He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely; your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you – this time chasing his own release along with yours.

Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly, and your head lowered as your felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive from before.

You were barely able to keep yourself up, and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you, you would’ve collapsed on the couch long ago.

“So fucking good to me, so fucking good…” Sebastian spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was the sounds your bodies made when in contact with one another; along with your whimpers and his incoherent words.

The air around you smelt of sex, sweat, the scent of the candles and Sebastian’s cologne.

You moaned, worn-out and still craving more and more of him.

You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and the bite on your neck, and all of the other marks he left on your skin. You knew you would wear them all proudly.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls.

You tightened around him, and he groaned and whispered your name quite a few times before coming undone; buried deep within you. His warm cum shoot at your walls and trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance.

He panted as he threw himself on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His body was damp and warm, and you loved the feeling of his strong arms around you.

You felt his cum flowing out of you and onto the couch, but none of you minded it in the least. Sebastian was happy with you in his arms; messy, and covered with marks he left behind on your skin – you were the most beautiful thing he had seen.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, and smiled. You had met him just over a week ago, yet it seemed like your heart knew him since forever.

He traced imaginary shapes on your skin, and when you looked down, you noticed that his fingers ran along the stretch marks on your waist and your thighs. You smiled up at him and he gave you the most charming smile you had ever seen.

“Be mine,” he simply whispered, kissing your damp forehead.

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

“Sorry, I don’t date messy men,” you joked, your hand reaching out to caress his face, and he leaned into your touch.

He chuckled and looked around. The place was a mess, most candles were melted, paint was everywhere, and he had countless of unfinished work. Yet, even the chaos made sense when you were in his arms.

“I adore you, doll. And I’ll do anything for you. Just, be mine. I really love having you around,” he picked your hand and brought your knuckles up to his lips, peppering your fingertips with kisses.

You smiled at the sweet gesture. You were already his the moment he touched you.

“Think about it, I won’t roam around naked all the time,” you joked again, and sat up straighter in his arms; placing your trembling legs on either side of his lap and straddling his thighs. While you faced him, his hands grabbed your ass and pushed you against him even more.

“I’m totally fine with that, doll. Just fucking say yes already!” he pushed his face into the crook of your neck and kissed your skin repeatedly, making you giggle again.

You said yes.

And he made love to you again that night; in the shower, against your front door when he went to drop you home, in your bed where he stayed until the morning.

Eventually, Sebastian showed you the pieces he made, and you were in awe. All of them were black and white, yet all the props were in color. The red gown was painted, and the sunflowers were as well. And he ended up using the one with the sunflowers as his main piece at his next exhibition.

Surprisingly, none of the pieces which involved you were up for sale, as he said he didn’t want people gawking at ‘his girl’.

He kept all of it as a private collection after the exhibition.

Life with him was blissful, and you loved all of it. The highs and the lows, and laughter and tears, the fights and the make-up – all of it.

---

A/N: A happy ending?! OMG who is she?

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#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian au #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #Marvel AU #marvel fic #marvel smut #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan headcanons #bucky barnes x reader #artist!seb #sinner-as-saint

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otomefoxystar · 4 years ago

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The One - Chapter 5

Fandom: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder

Pairing: Eisuke X OC

Warning: mentions of kidnapping

Genre: Angst

Written by: @otomefoxystar

Neither of them got much sleep that night. Eisuke woke up knowing he had to tell her that the baby could be his. He was almost certain of it. The timing was perfect. Once he was showered and dressed he went to check on Charlotte. He didn't expect to see her awake. She was lying on her side hugging a pillow staring straight ahead with tears falling down her cheeks. He walked over to her and kneeled on the floor so his face was in her line of sight. Her eyes shifted to him and she sniffled. “ I can’t do this” She sobbed Eisuke brushed her hair out of her face. “ Yes, you can. I know you can, you are the strongest woman I know.” “ If I’m so strong why do I feel so weak?” “ Because you’ve gone through a lot recently, but you’re getting better.” Charlotte sat up and wiped her tears away. She sniffled and Eisuke's lip pulled up forming a small smile. “ Charlotte” He stood up and sat next to her on the bed as he took her hand. “ I have something that I need to tell you, so I’m just going to come out and say it.” She licked her lips and swallowed. Her heart was hammering against her chest in nervousness.

“ We slept together” “ You told me we weren’t together.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “ We aren’t and never were. It happened once” “ Do I sleep around often?” He knitted his eyebrows together and shook his head. “ No, you’re not like that.” “ So then why?” He pressed lips together, feeling nervous about how she’d react to his explanation. “ Because I told you had to.” She looked at him in confusion not understand why she would listen to something like that. “ This isn’t the point Charlotte.” “ I think I deserve to know” She was starting to get angry and her ears began heating up. “ I’m trying to tell you that the baby inside of you is most likely mine.” “What?” “ I don’t believe you were with anyone else to my knowledge at least.” She took her hand out of his and stood up. “ You need to explain what happened because right now I am really confused!” He looked up at her as he was still sitting on the bed and took a deep breath. “All you need to know is that we slept together and now you’re pregnant that’s what we need to be worried about.” She sighed angrily “ I know that but I need to know why we slept together.” He stayed silent and she was getting frustrated “ You know what?! No, I’m not doing this not now not ever! I’m done being toyed with!” “ I’m not toying with you. I don’t want you involved any more than you already are.” “ No, I don’t want to hear it anymore” She went to the door and slipped her shoes on " Where are you going?" “ Away from you” She stormed out of his suite and into the lounge where Soryu and Baba were standing talking. She stomped out not talking to either one of them just focused on leaving. Then Eisuke came running down the stairs. “ Charlotte don’t leave!” She pressed the elevator button “ Leave me alone Eisuke” “You're still in your pajamas” “ Doesn’t matter” She stepped into the elevator and she glared at Eisuke “ Don’t follow me I want nothing to do with you” She said as the doors closed. If only she could just remember then she wouldn’t have to ask and this whole altercation could have been avoided. Why can’t she remember? She was ready for her memories to come back, She had waited long enough. Not long after she left the hotel when she passed a lightning post she was suddenly grabbed and she smelled a sweet smell and she struggled to stay conscious before succumbing and letting her consciousness slip away. She was carried into the back of a silver sedan by a blonde haired man. Eisuke was angry. Angry at himself, angry at the situation angry at Charlotte for not letting him explain. She always had a bit of a temper, at least that stayed the same. He looked back at Baba and Soryu. “ What did you do Eisuke?” Soryu asked plainly “ I didn’t do anything” he lied. How could he tell them that he had gotten her pregnant and she was so mad that he didn’t explain it properly that she ran out in her pajamas? He didn’t want to explain their whole relationship. How she was sold at the auction and how she belonged to him, and how he only used that against her if he got desperate. This time his desperation had consequences, she was pregnant and she hates him. He had to fix this. “ Find her” Baba arched an eyebrow “ But boss she said-” “ I don’t care what she said. I want you to find her and bring her back here. I don’t care if she’s screaming and kicking.” He didn’t care if she hated him for it, he had to tell her. She was right she deserved to know, even if it made her hate him more. Only if she knew how much everyone loved her. Baba had looked high and low he had even gone to her parents' house, but she had disappeared. It was unusual even if she was angry she wouldn’t just vanish. Darkness had enveloped the sky, and Baba felt defeated as if he had failed Charolette. He feared the worst, his gut told him that something was wrong. He walked back to the penthouse empty handed. “ Where is she?” Eisuke demanded “ I couldn’t find her, I looked everywhere I could think of but I couldn’t find her.” He looked down, and Mamoru came into the room. “ We need to find her! Mamoru I want you to use your detective sources and find Charolette.” Eisuke raked his hair back with his fingers. He felt on edge and was pacing in his suite. What if she had been kidnapped what if she’d been attacked again? She could lose the baby if there’s too much stress on her body. This was the first time in his life that he felt so useless there was nothing he could do except wait. He poured himself a glass of wine trying to relax, she was the only thing he could think of. He had never worried much about other people, but when it came to Charlotte he worried more than was probably normal. He looked out the window of his suite as he took a drink of his red wine, something Charolette had enjoyed in the past. Why did everything remind him of her? He watched as the headlights of cars flashed by, wondering if she just ran away. She wouldn’t be that angry, would she? He didn’t care what it took he would find her if it ended up killing him. Soon the whole bottle of wine was gone, and Eisuke was quite inebriated. He went into her room and noticed her bed had since been made up and the floors had been vacuumed. This irritated him, he wanted it to look like it did before she left with the bed unmade, looking slept in and he wanted to see her clothes strewn across the floor, but instead they were in the laundry basket. Could someone be trying to hurt him by hurting her? All these irrational thoughts were filling his head. Nothing ever got accomplished by worrying, he needed to do something he had to get his mind off of her. He decided to walk around the hotel casino. He walked around, and soon he was seen and women started swooning over him. On a normal night he would have taken one to his room and had his way with her, but tonight it just irritated him. Charolette blinked her eyes and realized how bad her head was hurting. She put her hand to her forehead and rubbed, but then noticed the unfamiliar setting she was in. She was laying on a bed in what looked like a cabin. She got up and went for the door, but it was opened by a man with golden hair and blue eyes. He was tall, and he looked down at her. “ I’m glad you are awake Charolette, I’ve been waiting for you.” She looked at him wide eyed “ Where are we?” “ You are in my palace milady far in the woods, there is nowhere to run. There isn’t another house for miles. You are to stay here with me.” “ Why? Why did you take me?” “ Wait…I know you. You work at the hotel.” “ Smart girl. Yes, my name is Yuri, we met a little over a month ago. I’ve wanted you since then and now I can finally have you.” She grimaced “ You can’t have me.” He laughed and licked his lips seductively. She started backing away from him as he started in towards her. “ Please no. Stay back” As he pushed forward her back hit a wall and he grabbed her chin. “ You will be mine one way or another, but you will be mine.” He released her chin and backed away. He closed the door and locked it from the outside. She ran to the door and began banging on it and sank to the floor crying when nobody came to answer it. She put her knees up and hugged them as she sobbed. She wished she hadn’t gotten so angry with Eisuke he was just trying to tell her that the baby was his and she threw that in his face. He had been nothing but kind to her. This whole time he had been taking care of her and never once did she stop to thank him. She wished she could run back and tell him that she’s sorry that she doesn’t hate him. She wished that she was back in that hotel where she was safe and loved. She wanted to be in the company of Ota. She wished Soryu was guarding her and Mamoru was napping on the couch while Baba was making a fool of himself. She wished that Eisuke was sitting there quietly, observing everything around him. She sat there with tears streaming down her face, broken images started filling her head. She saw herself breaking something and being forced to be put up for auction. She saw herself being faced by all the guys and feeling afraid, but not more afraid than she felt right now. She saw herself laughing with Eisuke and quietly glancing his way every time he entered the room. She felt heat rise to her cheeks every time their eyes connected. She saw herself meeting Yuri and feeling so happy only to be ripped of that happiness by Eisuke’s demand of her having to sleep with him. She wasn’t unhappy though she was mad but not unhappy. She saw herself and Eisuke at the party and how he kissed her and brushed her skin with his fingertips. The feeling gave her goosebumps. She drank a lot that night, but Eisuke’s gentle kisses and feather light touches lit a fire in her belly. seeing him make love to her and her to him. They were so into each other and caught up in the moment. No wonder she got pregnant, he must have forgotten the condom. Condoms were the last thing they were thinking about, they wanted each other … needed each other. Then when it was over he held her like they were lovers. It was a blissful feeling, but then knowing it was over was painful knowing she would never feel that again she decided to get drunk at the hotel bar. Ota tried to stop her but she got mad and tried to leave and that’s when Yuri attacked her and if Ota hadn’t saved her who knows what he would have done. Now though she was alone with no Ota no nobody but herself. What will he do? How long will he keep her here? what will happen when he discovers she’s pregnant? Finally, her memories had returned but she had to be kidnapped and had no one to share it with. She knew she had to escape. He said there wasn’t a house for miles, but she didn’t care she just knew she had to get out and get back to the guys where she was safe.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #kbtbb eisuke #voltage otome #L365 #voltage inc #kbtbb fanfic #kbtbb fandom

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triscribe · 4 years ago

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The Eyes of Dragons

I’ve found my myself in a Star Wars fix-it fic mood of late. Please enjoy the result of my morning’s work, with all due credit to the amazing @fialleril for coming up with Amatakka and Tatooine slave culture in the first place.

White dragons.

That was all Atru could think to call them in his mind. Huddled up with Nittu in a makeshift cave of fallen walls, he stared out at the courtyard of the palace, watching with wide eyes. Humanoids in white armor painted with blue or yellow constantly moved past, shooting, shouting, some hurrying in the other direction with wounded slaves held in their arms.

And it was only slaves they carried away - the cooling corpses of masters, overseers, and bodyguards still littered the courtyard. One of them sprawled mere steps away from Atru and Nittu’s hiding place - a scarred old weequay who’d been in the middle of beating them when the first explosions began. His wrinkled face remained stuck in an expression of shock, fingers still grasping at the blaster hole through his chest.

One the one hand, Atru felt a little ill at the sight. On the other...

Bentu Depuraak. The Reckoning of the Masters.

“...know there were a couple kids right around here - has anyone double checked the rubble?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Two dragons moved nearby. Atru could just see their boots from the cave: white and blue, white and yellow. His breath caught in his throat.

Would they come closer? Would they see him and Nittu? His arms tightened around the smaller boy - it was his job to keep him out of trouble, keep him from getting hurt. Maybe the dragons would leave them alone, but what if they didn’t?

“I’ll check with Ahsoka - if she’s finished clearing out the lower levels with the rest of Torrent, maybe the Force can tell her if anyone’s buried under here.”

“Alright, then we- wait. Vod, look.”

Between one heartbeat and the next, the opening of the little cave became filled by armor. Atru cried out when a hand reached for him, and instantly it flinched away.

“Osi’kyr,” the dragon muttered, pulling back a bit from the entrance. “Easy, little one, it’s okay - we aren’t going to hurt you, the slavers are all gone.”

“Shove up, Cody.” The second dragon crouched beside the first, and pulled off his helmet marked with swooping lines, revealing a human face. “Amavikkan?”

Atru blinked. After a moment, he slowly nodded.

The man in dragon armor grinned. “Ek masa nu Rex, ka. Nuk ek upanda, Cody.”

Glancing between the two of them as the second dragon removed his helmet as well, Atru didn’t doubt they were brothers - they looked just alike. “...ek masa nu Atru Sikataku, ka. Nuk ek upani, Nittu Atruaberatu.”

The man nodded, glancing at the other. “Their names are Atru and Nittu. Check with the medics, see if anyone by the name of Suncaller or Windsong’s been seen to-” Even as he said it, though, Atru started shaking his head.

“Ekte masa ekte.” The man sagged, his eyes softening.

“Saekeppa,” he murmured. I offer my sorrow. “Keekta-du?” When Atru hunched his shoulders, the man sat back on his heels. “They named themselves. Don’t know where they came from - probably sold too young to remember.”

The other man muttered the same strange word as before. Most likely a curse, if his pained expression was anything to go by. “Are they hurt at all? Stuck?”

Atru shook his head. When the man who’d been speaking Amatakka offered a hand, he carefully took it, and let himself and Nittu get gently tugged out into the open air. Armored arms wrapped around his back and under his legs, scooping the boy up. He had to let go of Nittu at that point, as the other man lifted him in the same way. For the first time since being found, the smaller child made a noise, whining softly as he buried his face in the crook of clothed neck and armored shoulder.

The man holding him froze, before cautiously rubbing and hand up and down Nittu’s back.

“He goes to sleep if you scratch his hair,” Atru stated. Both men blinked, before the one holding him barked out a laugh.

“You heard the kid, vod,” he chuckled. “Might make your life easier.” With that, he turned to start walking out of the courtyard, and Atru watched over his shoulder as the other man listened to his advice, black covered fingers combing through Nittu’s tightly coiled locks.

-Dragons-

An hour later, Atru learned where Rex had gotten his Amatakka from.

A tall man dressed in black robes and armor strode into the tent they’d settled in, Atru on Rex’s lap and Nittu still asleep on Cody’s shoulder. The newcomer looked them both over before snorting.

“Now I know what side-tracked you two,” he muttered.

“To be fair, sir, the time had already come for us to get out of the way of Speaker Banai’s relief forces,” Rex replied. “And you’ve said yourself, once the fighting’s done with, our main job becomes reassuring the Amavikkan that they’re safe.”

The man still rolled his eyes, but smiled when he looked down to meet Atru’s curious gaze. “Alright, so who is this little guy, then?”

“Atru Suncaller. Found him and Nittu over there hiding in some rubble from the courtyard’s walls. They don’t seem inclined to trust anyone who can’t speak Amatakka, so Cody and I are keeping an eye on them.” Or at least, Rex was keeping an eye on the other three - two minutes after sitting down with Nittu resting on him, Cody had likewise dozed off. Apparently he didn’t get nearly enough sleep, according to the stories Rex shared with Atru in the time since.

The newcomer seemed to already be aware of that, as he gave Rex a knowing glance before focusing on Atru again. He touched a hand to his lips, then his heart - the traditional greeting between the Mother’s Children. “Ek masa nu Anakin Ekkreth, ka.”

Atrua sat up a little straighter.

“Te akinu ikkeltinan?” He asked. You brought the dragons?

The Rain-Bringer Skywalker smiled, wide and fierce and sharp. “Ek akinu an-umakkar.” I brought the storm.

-Dragons-

Eventually, Rex and Cody needed to return to their work, and Atru found himself left with Nittu in a section of tents given over to the freed slaves. “We’ve got medics with scanners who’re removing the detonation chips,” Anakin explained, kneeling in front of them. “But until yours are out, you can’t risk going beyond the palace transmitter’s range, okay?”

Atru nodded.

“We’ll be around, if you need anything,” Rex added, briefly resting a hand on Atru’s head. “Or you can go to any of our brothers, we’re all here to help.”

Another, slower nod. When the three of them left, he took Nittu’s hand and wandered the tents until they found Eteru. The older girl sat against an empty crate, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky, her hands lying empty of knitting for possibly the first time in years.

“Is he really one of us?” Atru asked her. “Skywalker? Or is he lukkanal?”

Eteru smiled without opening her eyes. “He wasn’t freeborn, I know that much.”

“How?”

“Said too many things, about adjusting, finding ways to prove to ourselves we’ve become kol-depuan.”

Atru felt a thrill race through his veins at that: kol-depuan. Unfettered, unchained. He’d only heard the term in stories, spoken wistfully by older slaves. “And the dragons? Only one of them knows Amatakka.”

“Only one’s been around Skywalker often enough to learn it,” Etreru replied, sounding unconcerned. “Others know phrases, the important words. They’ll learn more, if some of them really stay to help like they say - or if some of us go with them.”

“Go where?”

Eteru lifted her chin a bit higher. “To the stars, Atru. To fight other Depuran, to free other Amavikkan, to bring about Bentu Depuraak across the Outer Rim.”

Awed, Atru looked upwards as well. In the evening light, he could make out two of the moons, green Tenarakin and blue Enchuni, but no stars, not quite yet. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there, a voice from deep in his memory whispered. Don’t be afraid to believe.

The boys sat there for a long while, until Nittu’s stomach rumbled and he made a quiet whine. Eteru didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon, so they left her be in order to go search for dinner.

-Dragons-

People who weren’t dragons or Amavikkan appeared the next day, with replacement food and water and medical supplies. Atru watched from around a corner as Skywalker kissed a short, dark-haired woman, two babies wrapped in a carrier on her back. A twi’lek girl in a white dress with yellow patterns ran and laughed around the feet of the dragons she matched, and a togruta teenager with blue armor of her own stuck close to Rex at all times.

It was this last person who nearly tripped over Atru at midday, as he crouched in the shade of the tent where Nittu and the rest of the little children were taking their naps. She glanced between him and the tent’s entrance, before smirking. “Don’t wanna sleep with the babies, huh?”

Atru shook his head.

“Come on, I know a better spot to get out of the sun.” Seeing his hesitation, she added, “Ek masu nu Ahsoka Tano, ku.”

Atru squinted at her. “...masa, not masu.”

“Ek masa,” the togruta corrected. “And- you must be Atru, right? I haven’t seen any other wroonians around here.”

“Half,” he said, standing up and accepting her offered hand, blue fingers curling around dusky orange. “My dad was human. I think.”

“Okay. What’s your name mean, if I can ask? There’s a lot of Amatakka I don’t know yet.”

“Atru is One with the Wind,” he answered, walking quickly with her to cross the hot sands. “Sikataku is Suncaller, like our Elder Sister Leia. I picked that one,” he added, “‘Cause I don’t remember what my mom’s was.” And because he’d always wanted to be a dragon, someone brave and unafraid to summon fire.

Ahsoka nodded. “Do you want to try and find her?”

Atru stayed quiet until they reached an actual building, and the door slid open, offering cool relief from the noonday suns. “I think- I think my mom died, and that’s why I was sold, ‘cause the man who owned us didn’t want to buy someone else to look after me.”

“Okay, then. Who looks after you here?”

He shrugged. “Eteru, sometimes. Or Ekriti, if she wasn’t busy. But I’m bigger now, so I gotta help look after Nittu.”

The door slid shut behind them, and as his eyes adjusted, Atru glanced around the small room and its furniture - most of which was occupied.

Rex paused with a blaster half-disassembled on the table in front of him, and two others in white and blue armor glanced over from their padded bench. Introductions got passed around again, and then Atru found himself settled on the floor beside Rex’s feet, Echo and Fives watching him with interest as Ahsoka flopped into a chair of her own.

In the thin layer of sand that covered the ground, Atru absently traced out the swooping lines from Rex’s helmet. “What do these mean?”

The man glanced over, and grinned. “Jaig eyes - jai’galaar are the shriek-hawks of Mandalore. They’re a symbol of battle honor that I earned in my training as a cadet.”

Atru hummed. His finger made another symbol from Rex’s armor - the repeated pattern of four lines with a fifth crossed through them. “And these?”

Gloved hands stilled on blaster components. “Tally marks. Each one represents a vod I lost.”

“Vod?”

“Sibling, in Mando’a. It’s how we address our closest brothers.”

Considering, Atru flicked his eyes towards Echo and Fives, who’d picked up datapads to fiddle with but were obviously listening in. “Are you all upandan, or are there ikkalan and attanan too?”

Rex frowned, picking up an ammo clip. “I guess some of us are sisters or siblings, but I personally haven’t met any.”

Ahsoka hummed. “Drop decided a few days ago they were agender, Rexter.”

“Ah. Well there we go, then. At least one attan.”

Atru grinned.

-Dragons-

“Hey, Atru!” Glancing up from the pot he was scrubbing with soft sand, the boy grinned and waved to Ahsoka. Beside him, Nittu looked around expectantly, but the lack of any yellow on white meant he went back to playing with his new brightly colored counting stones.

“So,” the togruta said as she crouched beside them. “How would you like to see the inside of a gunship?”

-Dragons-

“Snips...”

“What? You said we should make sure more of the Amavikkan are familiar with how to operate our equipment, including the aircraft.”

Anakin shot her a flat look, the effect of which was pretty thoroughly dampened by the blonde baby being bounced in his arms. “Older Amavikkan, like Ekriti.” The zeltron woman glanced up at her name, but quickly went back to studying the controls of the ship beside Hawk.

“What, just because he’s a kid Atru isn’t allowed to learn?”

“He’s five, Snips.”

“Maybe six,” Atru said absently, standing on tip-toe in order to peer into the cockpit. He heard Anakin sigh, and the baby gurgle.

“One flight, up to the Endurance and back, and then he stays put, alright?”

“Alright, alright, message received loud and clear.”

-Dragons-

The day after his trip up to the biggest spaceship ever, Atru was once again doing chores with Nittu at his side when Ahsoka appeared, the twi’lek girl in white and yellow skipping along at her heels.

Numa mostly spoke Ryl, with a little bit of Basic - but Amatakka was a language made up of all bits and pieces, with additions from children of more deserts than just Tatooine’s. With a few shared words, and gestures, and laughter, they communicated just fine.

Nittu really seemed to like her too, to the point that he even started to follow after Numa when she ran up to a pair of dragons. Atru nearly stopped him, but then he saw Cody, and just sat back as he watched the smaller boy run up to the man who kneeled to meet him.

-Dragons-

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, when our Jedi arrives with his flagship,” Cody said softly, sitting beside Atru, Nittu once again asleep with his arms around the man’s neck. “I’d like to take Nittu with me.”

Atru considered it. “Alright. Will you still let him be a Windsong?”

“He’ll always be Atruaberatu,” Cody answered, “and you two can always be upandan. I follow my Jetii, but there will be times he comes back here to visit - probably right around the same times General Skywalker and his family do too.”

“And Rex?”

“And Rex, little one.”

-Dragons-

The copper-haired Jedi arrived, briefly, to hug Anakin and Ahsoka and collect his white and yellow dragons. Nittu went with them, and Numa, along with a few other Amavikkan too, including Eteru, so Atru didn’t feel too worried about the younger boy forgetting himself again.

As he watched the ships take off and slip away into the morning sky, Rex came to stand beside him. “...we’ll be heading off in a couple of days too,” the man eventually said.

Atru kept quiet.

“Going to be more Amavikkan recruits for us than the 212th, thanks to Anakin. Mechanics, mostly, a few pilots, and some who want to learn to fight.” A pause. “Would be nice to have some ad’e around, too, especially ones who might be willing to keep an eye on the little Skies.”

Ad’e meant children, Atru knew. He’d asked Ahsoka once, after dozing off in Rex’s lap while waiting out a sandstorm and vaguely hearing the man call him ad’ika.

“...I guess I’m already the right color.”

Rex laughed. “Yeah, same shade, even.”

After a moment, Atru looked up at him. “Would I have to sleep with the others, or could I stay with you?”

The man smiled, and ruffled his hair. “I think you and I can work something out.”

-Dragons-

“MOVE!”

Firing back the way they’d come, Atru shoved Jinni Skywalker ahead of him, keeping his armored form in-between her and little Feather and the blaster shots coming towards them. Once they rounded a corner, he holstered his pistol and picked up both girls in order to sprint for shelter. The stormtroopers moved a little slower, wary of traps or return fire but well aware the old facility had no rear exit.

For the time being, Atru and his charges were trapped.

He skidded around another turn, thankfully spotting a half-open door just ahead. “Okay,” Atru panted, stopping next to it and pushing Jinni through before handing the pink toddler back to her. “Find a hiding place and stay there, I need you to keep Feather quiet at all costs, okay?”

The blonde six year old nodded at him, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Atru-?”

“I’ve got to lead them away from you, but I’ll be alright, I promise. Just hide, Jinni, until you feel your dad or Aunt Soka, don’t come out for anyone but them.”

Tromping boots echoed closer. Atru dragged the rusted door closed, hurried further down the hallway, and fired at the first empty-white helmet that appeared after him. Thankfully, the intermittent lighting of the abandoned facility worked in his favor, the pursuing stormtroopers unable to tell he’d left the girls behind.

The teen swiftly lost track of time as he ran, dodged, and returned fire. Once, a blaster shot clipped his leg, not bad enough to take him out, but the pain still caused him to trip and fall against something with a sharp edge. Cursing at the blood that would make his trail easier to follow, Atru tried to put more distance in-between himself and the enemy.

That backfired when he nearly ran right into the backside of a different group of stormies.

Certain he’d just signed his own death certificate, Atru backed away from the array of blasters - only to breathe out a prayer of thanks to every divinity he knew of when the ceiling erupted with red-hot heat and the flashing of lightsabers.

As Anakin and Ahsoka tore their way through the enemy soldiers, other figures landed around Atru, dragons in white and blue and black, death and life and freedom. One dropped to his knees and yanked off his helmet in order to meet the teen’s exhausted gaze, hands skimming his clothes to check for injuries before stopping on either side of his face.

“You better hurry up and finish with these kriffing growth spurts so we can get your permanent armor,” Rex stated, causing Atru to laugh. He rested their foreheads together. “I deal with enough heart attacks from the Skies, ad’ika, don’t you start giving me even more.”

“I’ll do my best, Ipa,” Atru promised.

“All clear, Captain,” one of the Amavikkan dragons called. “Skywalker and Tano found the girls - permission to return topside so Ekriti and Hawk can stop panicking?”

“Permission granted,” his dad replied. He stood, carefully hauling Atru up with him, before pausing. “And someone tell Marker to have his paint set ready - we’ve got some jaig eyes that need awarding, as soon as possible.”

Cheers and whoops followed them out of the facility, and Atru grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. Rex and the other vod’e called them jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se, but to him, they would always be atre-ikkeltinan:

The Eyes of the Dragons.

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shout-mayday · 4 years ago

Photo

✿ happy day; scenes from mayday's debut showcase ✿

“Unnie, come here for a minute.”

Bomi’s soft voice startles Mei out of her hall pacing. The heels of her shoes click on the floor as she joins her at the window she’s peering down from.

“I thought you were with the others, don’t the stylists need you?” She asks. Bomi’s hair is styled already, her dark hair arranged into fluffy pigtails, but she’s still wearing her street clothes. Mei was the first one fully ready, as the oldest. She feels a little strange wearing the checked skirt and blazer of a school uniform, she hadn’t worn one in years.

“I’ll go in a minute… you should come and look first.”

She scooches aside so she can come and stand next to her at the window. A hundred feet below unaware they’re being watched, people are milling around in haphazard lines, braving the heat with handheld fans. Some of them are carrying signs… she scans the crowd until she finds one with her name on it in her signature baby blue. “Leader Mei, congratulations!” it reads.

“But there’s so many of them.” She’s in awe. She’d been told tickets to the showcase had sold out, and she saw the tiers of the auditorium when they were rehearsing earlier, but seeing this many people there to see them? Nothing compares.

Bomi shakes her head, looking awestruck. “I don’t even know what to say.”

There’s footsteps behind them, and they look around, ready for a scolding. “Say you’ll come back to the dressing room so I don’t get skinned by the stylist unnies?” It’s just Nada at her shoulder, her voice is rough but her face gives away her nerves.

Mei pats her shoulder as she goes. “You’ll do well.” Nada just blinks down at her.

11 hands linked in a circle is a bit clumsy, very cramped, but it feels right somehow. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mei looks around at her members, squished together in their stage outfits and mics. She looks around the circle from Dawn’s determined, shining eyes, to Ruby’s bouncing energy. On her left, Jiwon’s jaw is clenched like she’s about to enter a boxing ring. On her right Namjoo looks like she might be holding back tears, and Mei squeezes her waist in comfort. The broadcasting station staff member standing at the door waiting to usher them to standby looks like he’d rather not be privy to their moment.

“Can they hurry it up,” the staff member mutters to the manager, who glares at him

“It’s time,” Mei chokes on the words, but she quickly shakes herself back to composure. “There’s nothing to worry about, we’ve worked hard and we killed it at soundcheck.” She manages to put strength behind her voice, but she feels like he needs to convince herself.

“I’m so proud of you all, you’ve all earned this, okay?” Her voice breaks again.

“You okay, unnie?” Rory apparently sees right through her. The maknae seems the most comfortable out of all of them, but she knows they’ll all put on their brave faces once the cameras start rolling. She gives her a grateful smile.

“I’ve been thinking about those nights we all stayed up late to practice together. It was hard, but I think we all got something out of it.” Namjoo leans into her as she speaks. “Now, all of our hard work has come to pass.”

She laughs brightly. “You’ll all be great out there. I believe in you all, I’d bet the world on us.” Someone has started to rock back and forth, and now they’re all swaying as one.

“Let’s go and tear up that stage, okay?” Her members nod in assent.

“Okay??” She says with more force.

“Yes!!” They echo back to him, smiles cracking through.

“Alright, Mayday on three,” Jiwon shouts, her voice commanding energy and attention. “One, two, three－”

“Mayday!!” The room seems to shake with the sound of their shouts.

They file out to the sound of the MC’s introducing them, and the cheers of the crowd rumble under their feet. They step onto the stage, and when the music starts playing, Mei looks up into the millions of cell phone cameras and smiles.

#aeskocnet #kumokocnet #peachykocnet #kocsociety #kpop oc #idol oc #kpop addition #mayday.dev #mei.dev #mayday.text

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sharpen-jadescythe · 4 years ago

Text

Operation Kitten, 1

Part One: The real story of what happened after Sharpen punched Mathias Shaw in the face. Continuation of the other SI:7 Seal story LOL

Jiroki, I’m sorry you had to find out this way. That the problem with Lux’ana Queenwing, a member of your guild posing as someone else? Yes, that can be traced back to me. But one upshot of this situation is, I finally get to be honest with you about something I was holding back. Not because I started things with us in a lie—no I would never do that unless lives depended on it. And they did, actually. I was protecting a lot of people so that’s why I didn’t tell you or anyone the full story, about me. Maybe that sounds like a lie a lover would tell you when he just happens to um, secretly be SI:7. Every time there’s a problem in your romance, he goes ‘Look baby, I had to lie to you in order to save lives.’ And I do know some agents like that. Those guys who use their jobs as an excuse, they’re filth. I guess if you think I’m filth too, I wouldn’t blame you. However, this is the truth. Alessandre and I were both trying to save Lux’ana’s life and the lives of her flock when she walked up to you that day and asked to join the Greyshields like it was nothing. Like Alessandre was just her friend and I had nothing to do with it. But it was part of a much bigger operation, love. Like you wouldn’t believe...

Al instructed me to pretend like I didn’t know Lux’ana, never met her. Al was going to serve as her reference. But now that cover of ours has unraveled some, and so much time has passed? I am going to tell you the truth. The real truth. Okay so, I’ll start at the beginning.

It's dangerous to talk about my work, so usually they give you a story to tell other people instead—not that this is it. I’m telling you everything, even my part in it. I’ve been called a himbo before, that sometimes I make dangerous or stupid decisions. But I see no point in lying to a woman I care so deeply for. I made some promises to you that I intend to keep. Just know that SI:7 gave me another version of my recruitment story, that I failed the swim test. That they threw me in a carriage for punching Mathias Shaw on the beach and sent me home. I embellished a little and said I got to keep the swim trunks. Because I look so damned fetching in that little blue and gold speedo, I guess my vanity sold me out a bit. It was a poor excuse for still having them anyway—as if SI:7, as powerful as that organization is, would let some recruit walk away with their standard issue uniform, even a… choice part of it, just to wear at pool parties. No, you can get picked up and arrested for that, seriously.

There’s a scene I was instructed to leave out, because my situation with them stayed tenuous even after my first mission. Yes, I did punch Mathias actually. That’s still true. But they didn’t give me a free ticket home with no muss nor fuss. That’s the part they asked me to tell my friends. What actually happened is they hogtied me, shipped me all the way out to Boralus which was the center of things at the time, then put me in a holding cell. After leaving me to cool down for a few days, they brought me before the man himself.

They brought me more standard issue stuff to wear, some loose cloth pants and a shirt. I was mad, and wanted some way to mess with them, so I ripped the shirt sleeves off. Which was a bit foolish, I guess. It does get pretty cold in Boralus. Shaw and the others had a barracks set up on the east side of town, close to the damp docks. Close to the Alliance ship docked there and all the cough-cough, handsome fair winds flowing in from the sea, if you know what I’m saying. (Fairshaw’s totally a thing, but you didn’t need an SI:7 Seal to reveal that secret to you. All I’m sayin’.)

To my surprise, they sent me in to see the head man without shackles on my wrists. I had a tight escort—this big Kul Tiran named Big Mack who took up almost the entire hallway, but I did also note that it was just one man and they’d fed me this whole time, treated me well, let me go out into the practice yard for exercise. They just didn’t let me mix with any of the other recruits. And another thing I noticed, all the people I’d trained with were gone. Even that annoying Dwarf guy Hael who couldn’t save himself in the water, let alone from being an obnoxious Dwarf stereotype, being loud and trying to get me drunk the night before the swim test and all that. (In fact, I think I remember telling him that, that he was playing up the Dwarf thing so much I was starting to wonder what he was trying to prove?) So anyway they dropped us all off the coast of Northrend, near Honor Hold, gave us the swim test and they all graduated, even that fool who tried to hang on my back like I was a Night Elf-sized wading board, and drown me in shark-infested waters? Geesh, what a world.

I teased Big Mack, said he looked like he wanted a sandwich. I mean, come on, how big did this guy really need to be?

“Hrmph. Need a third man for that, if it’s a real offer you’re making.”

I blinked. I… was Big Mack coming on to me? He laughed, and yes he did a good job of scaring the pants off me. Let’s not think about me, Big Mack and my pants off. Anyway…

Mostly, I was sullen. I hadn’t shaved in days. My green beard was scruffy and I knew my long dark green hair was kinda bedhead, too. If I didn’t get released right away, I was fully prepared to do something I promised myself I would never ever do, wherever I worked, no matter how tough things got—but damned if I was going to let them lock me up for no real reason, even if it was in the recruit’s barracks. If things were truly rough, then I was going to name drop my sister Wisthera Bane. They knew about her, of course, she was a master rogue in a leading Kaldorei spy organization. But they needed to understand that I was at the point of leveraging my sister and all her connections. Alessandre’s too, if I needed. He was a top assassin as I understood it. He helped run the Kaldorei Rogue Network with her, and they only really reported to High Priestess Tyrande and the Shando, Malfurion himself. Not the Alliance. Well, the Alliance wasn’t their first stop anyways. The Kaldorei people came first.

Big Mack rather roughly pulled out a metal chair for me and pointed with a meaty finger for me to sit. I had a little shock at first, seeing the important man I had punched waiting for me on the other side of the table. Arms crossed, that certain smirk on his face beneath that clipped brunette moustache, but this time, Mathias Shaw had a black eye. Well, it was more of a gray eye by now. The medics had it healing up nicely.

“You don’t just punch a man like Mathias Shaw in the face and get away with it.”

“Well.” I was stunned to be facing him. But I knew from our training that you never showed you were intimidated. However, I’d learned that from before in life anyway. “How do you punch a man like Mathias Shaw? Maybe next time I’ll stand my ground, should’ve stayed standing over you on the beach while you were flat out like a light.”

Mathias uncrossed his arms, sat up right in his chair. “Alright, Seal. You’ve had your word in. I’m letting you have your personality because it’s useful to us. Your freedom of speech in this situation is in my gift—you do get that, right?”

“I’m not an SI:7 Seal. I failed my test.”

“Did you, though?” Mathias cocked his head at me, smirking anew. So this was his revenge, the hitch. Why he was able to smile at me even with that black eye. Mathias was giving me the one thing that I hated most of all.

“I did so fail that swim test.”

“I’m not sure that’s how tests work? Right? I mean… doesn’t the teacher grade you? And if the teacher isn’t sure, then doesn’t the pass-fail decision fall to the headmaster? How exactly do those Kaldorei schools work, that you still don’t know?”

“Interesting line of inquiry, sir. But I’m immune to insults coming out of the mouth of a man that I punched.”

“Hold on now—we’re going in circles. Relax.”

I guess I did have my hackles all the way up already. I let my big shoulders sink down, took easier breaths. I glanced back over to see Big Mack still standing in the room by the door. I gave Mathias a look, that after everything, he wanted a bodyguard in my presence.

Shaw folded his hands on the table. “Yes, SI:7 has a reputation for letting some big arseholes in. Arseholes who bungle missions because they’re really in it for the gold, the chance to retire early after body-breaking work and then start up their own businesses. Security agencies and the like.”

“Yes! After only one year of service! Maybe two? But how does that serve the Alliance?”

Mathias nodded at me, that it was all true. But he also looked weary. That wasn’t a part of his organization, they way it was run, that he condoned. “If men get tired, we have to let them go. We can’t force them. And there’s this pipeline of ex-pats helping their buddies and the sons and daughters of their buddies to join up, just to make even more money. We’re trying to break that down from the inside. No offense, but Kaldorei don’t tend to rub each other’s backs like that. So, we’re aggressively recruiting your people. And before you think of threatening me with intervention from your sister in the Kaldorei Rogue Network, we know all about them. In fact, I made them, Wisthera and Alessandre. And the third triumvir rogue, Mistress Myrielle Fadeleaf? I trained her as well.”

I pointed his way, “Not how my sister tells it.”

He rolled his eyes, “Anyway. You’re young, you’re new to spywork. And seems it runs in your family. We recruited you because of your sister, Sharpen. You’re not going to catch us out with that, it was one of the main reasons. SI:7 didn’t go into it blindly.”

“But you just said!” I floundered for a moment, realizing my parachute was gone. “Corruption, back-scratching is rife in SI:7! That whole recruitment experience—nightmare—is not something I want to repeat in the field. I won’t serve!”

Mathias stayed calm, sucked his teeth and looked up thoughtfully before he spoke. Like he was indulging me. “Now. I don’t want to call you a himbo. I don’t wanna hurt your feelings. But let’s say that, unlike your sister, you are a man who would take orders. You would do it for the greater good, you would be incorruptible in that way. Sharpen, didn’t I just explain to you that I’m sick of the bad guys inside our organization? I want a real man. You.” He pointed at me with both hands, thumbs up like he was attempting to sell me a horse, fast. “You are a real man, Sharpen Jadescythe. A man we can depend on.”

#si7-seal #stories #operation-kitten

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years ago

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The Light in my Darkness - 24

Pairing: Clint Barton x reader (I sure hope so anyway)

Warnings: don’t think so.

A/N: I couldn’t work on anything else until this was done. So here you go. The conclusion of TLIMD. There is a shortish epilogue to look forward to though. Enjoy lovies. Thanks for sticking with me through this one. I kind of love it.

***

Clint worked late Friday which was in itself unlike him. He usually left the office as early as possible to get a jump on the weekend. But as he had absolutely no plans save wallowing in self pity, he didn’t see the need to hurry home. He entered through the kitchen and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. He rolled his sleeves up as he inventoried the contents of his fridge trying to decide what to eat. Nothing appealed to him so he grabbed a beer before shutting the door.

As he twisted the cap off and threw it in the trash, a piece of paper on the bar caught his attention. It was an invitation to your show. Where the hell had that come from? Lord knows he’d seen enough of them lately, but he was certain he hadn’t brought any of them home. It seemed as though everyone that knew the two of you was making it their business to get him to the show. That wasn’t a good idea. He knew that much at least.

He traced his fingers over the name of your show written in brilliant blue painter’s strokes. Him. Yeah, going to your show wouldn’t be a good idea at all. It would only cause unnecessary pain for both of you.

“You should go.”

Clint swallowed his mouthful of beer and turned to find Wanda standing in the doorway behind him. He frowned in question, not that he minded her being there, he just hadn’t been expecting her.

“The shoes I wanted to wear were here.” She closed the distance between them and picked up the postcard to look it over. “And quit trying to ignore me. You should go to the show.”

He shook his head as he turned away from her. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.” He slammed the bottle on the counter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Didn’t want her pushing him. Prodding him.

Wanda hummed in thought. “Because you love her, you mean?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“She loves you, too, you know.”

His shoulders slumped and he raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I know.”

“Then what is the problem? You are so frustrating. Just forget whatever shit you’ve convinced yourself of and go get the girl.” He glanced over to find Wanda scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart. Feelings change. Someday she’ll realize I’m not what she wants and she’ll find someone else. I don’t think I could survive that. Not with her.” It was more honestly than he’d been prepared to face that day, but he hoped it would get his daughter to back off. To give him a break and let him grieve. He should have known better.

“So, you’ll be fine when she finds someone else and starts dating? Because that’s what will happen. You know that, right?” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so serious that Clint wondered briefly if there was already someone on the horizon.

And God did that hurt. The thought that she’d soon be smiling for someone else. Laying in someone else’s arms. “You’re just not going to cut your old man any slack, are you?”

“I never do when you’re being stupid,” was the immediate response.

He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “God, kid.”

She placed the postcard on the counter and pushed it in front of him. “Go. Tell her you love her. Don’t think about it, just do it. If losing Peter taught us anything, it’s to not waste the time we have.”

Clint closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Tears burned behind his lids.

Wanda placed a hand on his back. “He would want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. So if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Or do it for her. For some stupid reason, she loves you.”

He straightened and pulled her into a side hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “How did you get to be such an incredible person?”

“Well, I have a pretty great dad.” They hugged for a moment longer before she pushed him away. “Go, so you can quit being a miserable bastard.”

Without another thought, Clint was out the door. He put on his helmet and climbed on his bike. Much sooner than he should have, he arrived at the gallery. He parked on the sidewalk on the side of the building and took of his helmet. He pushed his hands through his hair trying to put it in some sort of order, but was certain he failed miserably. After straightening his clothes, he strode inside. His eyes scanned the room searching for you.

After his third pass over the crowd, Clint was beginning to get anxious. Where the hell were you?

“She’s not here,” a voice said from beside him.

Clint turned to Steve with a frown. “What do you mean she’s not here? This is her dream.”

Steve pursed his lips. “That’s what I told her. She told me she found a new dream, but she lost it and couldn’t stand to be surrounded by the reminders.”

Fuck. He’d done that to her, kept her from enjoying the night when she should be on top of the world. Damn it. He ran a hand through his hair again as he tried to figure out a way to fix this. “You’ve got to help me, Steve.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I love her and I need her back.”

His friend looked at him for a long time, his anger evident. Finally, Steve glanced away. “I’ll think about it. Get a drink. Enjoy the art. It’s brilliant.” And with that, he turned his back and strode away.

***

You returned to the gallery twenty minutes after the show was supposed to have ended. A glance through the windows as you walked by showed a mostly empty gallery. Steve stood at a podium flipping through a book as the caterers cleared away the last of the food.

The door was locked when you tugged on it and the noise brought Steve’s head up. He smiled and hurried over to let you in. “There you are.”

“So, what do you think? How did it go?” Your stomach rolled with nerves.

His smile widened. “You sold out. That’s how it went.”

“What?” Surely, you hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Every piece. I even have offers on the pieces you reserved should you change your mind and decide to sell.”

You blinked as you tried to process what he’d just told you. You’d not only made a lot of money, you’d successfully launched your career as a professional artist. And you supposed you could sell the pieces you’d held for yourself. It’s was mostly photography anyway. It wasn’t as if you didn’t still have a copy on your computer. You dropped into one of the chairs sitting along the wall. “I can’t…thank you for this, Steve.”

“You did the work, Y/N. I just gave you a place to show it off and sent out the invitations.”

“You believed in me. That was enough.”

He sat in the chair beside you. “Not to bring down the room, but you should know Clint came by.”

Your chest suddenly felt tight. “He did?”

Steve nodded. “I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t here for the art.”

You ran a hand down your face. “This has been a very surreal night. What did he say?”

“He asked for my help.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him I’d think about it.” Steve shifted in the chair. “He seemed pretty taken with your work. Almost in awe.”

You chuckled a little at that. “Well, to be fair he is the him in question.”

“He is also one of the ones that made an offer on a reserved piece.”

He handed you a slip of paper and you gasped at the amount written on it. It was for one of the largest pieces in the show. A close up of Clint’s paint covered hands on your waist in black and white with real paint for accent. It was your favorite and apparently Clint’s too if the figure in your hand was anything to go by.

“But why would he offer so much? Why would he even want it?”

“Because these hands miss your body.”

You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped at the sound of the familiar voice.

Steve cleared his throat as he stood and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

Your gaze followed him until he passed by Clint. It didn’t hurt as much to see him as you thought it would. Perhaps that was because the pain was being tempered by the hope you couldn’t keep from feeling. There were so many things you wanted to say but you couldn’t seem to get any of it out.

He stepped toward you and you ran your gaze over him. He was in your favorite outfit and you wondered if he’d done it on purpose. Probably not, but you still intended to enjoy the view as long as he was here. Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips.

Clint took another step. “I miss your body.” He held his hands out to the side as if trying to convince you he was harmless when you knew damn well he was anything but. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

He was within touching distance when he came to a stop and put his hands in his pockets. He rocked on his feet. “And I love you.”

Your eyes which had been traveling the length of him again, jerked up to meet his. “What?” A part of you had known that he loved you, the rest of you had hoped, but you never thought you’d hear him admit to it.

He gave you that lopsided smile. “The irony, right? I’m really hoping I haven’t fucked this up completely, Y/N.”

Moisture welled in your eyes, but you willed it not to fall. You stood and ran your hands over your dress. “How do I know you won’t do it again, Clint?”

He started to speak and you held up a hand to cut him off.

“I need to know this is a forever thing for you because I am head over heels for you, Clint Barton. And while the past couple of weeks have been good for my art, they’ve been brutal on my heart. I’m not sure it will survive another beating like that.” You lost the fight with the tears and a couple slipped down your cheeks.

Clint’s hands immediately cradled your face. “Baby, I am terrified that you are going to toss me aside someday and destroy me completely, but a minute with you in my arms would make it worth it. If you’ll let me, I will love you every second for the rest of our lives. You are everything and I’m sorry I ever made you feel less than that.”

You pressed your lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss full of promise. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “Well, you’ve done it now, Barton. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

#clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #avengers fanfiction #clint barton fanfiction #sugar daddy au #series #the light in my darkness #mushy love stuff

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ironndred · 5 years ago

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Tinker - Chapter 2

Non-Powered!AU where Peter works for his Uncle Tony at his watch repair shop.

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Word count: 1.5k; Rated T.

Chapter summary: Peter and Uncle Tony have a few drinks as they take things further.

Chapter contains: drinking/intoxication, light and implied incest. Underage: I’ll leave it to the readers to decide, as Peter’s age isn’t mentioned, but the warning’s here just in case.

---

Hi guys! Welcome to the next installment! I’ve got a tag list under the cut at the end of the chapter, so let me know if any of you would like to be added to the list! Hope you guys enjoy, and thanks again for reading!

---

They continued late into the night, Peter taking this time to ask his uncle questions about his parents. Tony is happy to tell Peter stories about his father when they were kids, recounting how Peter’s parents met, and how their deaths had affected the family as a whole. Before this, Peter had never really thought about his living situation; the reality had never occurred to him that May and Tony were the only family he had left.

He felt an immense love for his Aunt May, especially for the life she’d provided for him, but it was his Uncle Tony that truly captured his heart. His Uncle Ben was distant and hard to talk to sometimes, unabashed moments of affection and time spent together were too far and few in between. That’s where his Uncle Tony had stepped in, his heart open and warm and pliant to the boy’s needs, always with a hug hello and a hug goodbye, or a gentle hand at his back in moments when he felt unsure. And when Ben had gotten sick and died, it was Uncle Tony who once again stepped to the plate and offered whatever he could. It was his apprenticeship at the shop that made the days pass much quicker and the hurt less painful; Tony had given him more than just love and a guiding hand, but a welcomed distraction from the darkness in his life.

“Do you remember your first day at the shop?” Tony reminisced, once again refilling his empty glass. He had been working his way through the decanter while Peter was still working on his third finger of whiskey.

“I think I broke more watches than I actually fixed.” Peter replied fondly, remembering how clumsy he’d been his first couple weeks working.

He thought back to all the dropped, open watch bodies, cracked face panels, and misplaced motor gears. And yet, Tony never once lost his patience with the boy. Once, he’d shattered the glass door of a grandfather clock, slicing his palms in the process and surely costing them a good amount of money to replace it for a customer. But all that stood out from the memory was the way his Uncle Tony had tended to him, cleaning his wounds and a warm thumb worrying the skin on his cheek as it wiped away his tears. The thought made Peter’s cheeks run hot and goosebumps spread across his skin like wildfire.

“But look at you now! Well-trained, if you ask me.”

Peter glowed and Tony swirled the whiskey in his tumbler, taking one, long drink to finish off the glass before setting it down. The boy followed suit, throwing back the last sip of amber liquid from his glass. Peter wondered if Tony could tell that his head was swimming, a heaviness he found both unfamiliar, yet comforting. He feels warm and hazy, his gaze following Tony’s arm from the cuff of his sleeve down lines of blue steel.

“How did you get a doctor to even do a procedure like this?” Peter asked.

“Your dad had friends in high places. Even bionics engineers need their brakes done. After a long string of mannequin arms and half-fixed cars, one of your dad’s old colleagues offered me this,” he paused to flex and flare the panels of his arm, “as a solution. I sold the auto shop shortly after and focused solely on watch repair.”

“Can I touch it?” Peter blurted out, clearing his throat. “Or- I mean- could I get a closer look? At your arm?”

Tony chuckled and made his way to the other side of the table to stand next to Peter, offering his open, metallic hand. Peter was hesitant at first, the older man reaching out even further in encouragement, and the boy wondered if mechanical fingers could tremble. Finally, he sees to Tony halfway, and hot hands meet a cold metal palm.

A soft oh escapes Peter’s mouth in excitement, tracing along the raised edges of metal where each finger joined at the palm. Tony watched on, a lopsided smile creeping up on his face seeing Peter grasp and test his thumb, moving it back and forth, and then around in a circle. His touch then moved from Tony’s palm and up to his forearm. Peter tried to wrap his hand around its’ circumference, getting nowhere close, and squeezed gently, as if to see if the prosthetic would give way.

“Can you feel this?”

“I’d be lying if I said I could.” He wiggled his fingers, Peter’s grip still firm on his forearm, panels rippling with the movement like a real arm would. Tony sniffled. “But you’re the first person to see it this close -- to touch -- since the procedure.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Peter, and thinking back, it all began to make sense. He remembered Pepper, the redhead from Manhattan with the silver Seiko watch. There was Steve, the Brooklyn boxer with the antique pocket Rolex and then Dr. Strange, the surgeon from Greenwich with the emerald green grandfather clock, not too long after. Tony took special care to introduce those he dated to Peter when he felt that they were both ready, though it seemed nothing serious ever came of them. Peter really had taken a liking to them all, never being one to judge too quickly, but he had never considered if any of them had truly taken a liking to him. All that mattered to him were their feelings for Tony. But like the watches they repaired at the shop, they were in one day and out the next.

Suddenly, there was no more closing up shop early and watching Tony get ready for a date night. No more first-and-last time meetings or introductions. Rain or shine, his Uncle Tony was the first face to greet him at the shop, and the only face to wish him good night upon finishing their work. Weekends and holidays were spent together, at the apartment above their store or at Tony’s home on the other side of town.

It seemed for Tony, that’s all there was: his work and Peter.

The boy’s heart pounded in his ears and he once again drew his attention to Tony’s right hand, holding it as gently as his could, almost massaging it in his grip. Softly and slowly, as if the metal would crumble in his grasp, he brought his uncle’s palm up to cradle his cheek. Tony drew in a quick breath, dark metal on pale skin. They stayed like this, Peter feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand hearing the light mechanical whirring upon the caressing of his cheek, Tony looking more and more conflicted with each passing moment.

“Peter...I-”

Tony had remained silent through all this, Peter holding his hand in place. He furrowed his brows and it seemed his eyes were searching for something he wasn’t quite sure of. But Peter knew, deep down in his gut, what was going on between them. And maybe Tony wasn’t quite ready for that conclusion yet, but Peter was sure of his own feelings. And he was sure of the possibility that this was going to be his one and only chance.

“It’s okay, Uncle Tony,” Peter’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling Tony brush a cold thumb over his cheek in response; except this time, there were no tears to wipe away. “You won’t hurt me…”

“Kid, it’s not that simple. There’s a lot more to this that you don’t understand and-”

“And what? I’m too young? Too young to know what this is?�� The young man opened his eyes, surprised to see Tony staring right back.

“I’m not a baby anymore.”

“But you’re my…” Tony stopped, his voice is minuscule and barely above a whisper. “You’re my nephew and I care about you. More than I can admit. If someone found out; if your Aunt May found out...”

“She’s my aunt, not my keeper! Isn’t that what you said?” Peter’s eyes were wet, bottom lip trembling and heat crawling up his face. “No one has to know! I won’t say anything; no one will find out! I promise!”

Tony withdrew from Peter, running his hands through his hair in frustration while creating distance between them.

“Kid, please, I’m begging you; don’t do this. You’ve been drinking, I’ve been drinking. I think we just need to sleep all of this off and we can talk about this in the morning.”

“I’m not drunk!” Peter pauses, then backpedals a moment. “Well, actually... I dunno. I’ve never actually...been drunk before, but-”

“This is what I’m saying, Pete! You can’t even tell me if you’re drunk right now, and you expect to figure out how to navigate something like this? Do you even know what you’re asking me for?”

“No. I guess I don’t.” Peter has no hesitation in closing the distance between them, looking up at him doe-eyed and without blinking. “But you can show me, can’t you? You’ve taught me so much already…”

“Peter, don’t.” Tony kept his hands locked firmly to his sides, balling them into fists and forcing himself not to reach out. Peter’s closed the gap; it’s now or never.

“Please, Uncle Tony? Teach me?”

Tony is frozen in place, plush, whiskey touched lips pressed ever so softly against his own.

---

Tag list: @starkeriseverything @thaliastxrk

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #chapter fic #non powered au #ironndred #tinker fic #ironspider #tw: drinking #tw: intoxication

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geeky-introvert · 5 years ago

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Not Sharing . Ivar X OC X Sigurd

Summary: Tired of their consent arguing and fighting with each other, Ubbe gifts both Ivar and Sigurd with a thrall to share and work out their problems somehow. Still, they argue, confusing the thrall and even bothering her with their nagging.....One-shot.

Even though I’m not part of the 5CW event run by the lovely @lisinfleur and @honestsycrets I had to do this for the fun of it. Hope it turned out alright. I had fun with this!

Word count: 3463

Warning: Bit of arguing and smut.

Tagging: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22 @rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics @aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia @inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish @igetcarriedawaywithyou @lordsexmachine @tgrrose

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Katya was born into slavery, it was the only life she knew and grew to like with the few simple rules. Be polite, obey and always smile, the men loved it. She belonged to a very wealthy master who took good care of her as long as she satisfied his needs. It wasn’t the worst, it could be, but this was how it was since she was sold a little over a year ago.

She comes from the lands of Russia, a foreign land for most travellers and it was the only home she knew of. This all changed however when her long term masters wife poisoned him and sold her to a trader within a blink of an eye.

No surprise.

Over the coming months Katya was moved, sold, bought and sold for high prices, her value only rising more at each passing man who held enough gold for her and enjoyed the moment before moving onto the next man eagerly wanting to buy her. Nothing was ever permanent, this she understood and never held much hope for anything. It was all about survival.

She finds herself in another cold part of lands that was very different from her home. Curiously she looked around from the boat she was on with the other slaves, a thick fur coat wrapped around her gifted by the trader in exchange for worshipping his cock. It was warmth she needed after all, she didn’t care about much else.

Her raven thick hair blew against her wind as her creamy skin that had barely touched the sun shivered against the cold. Dark hazel eyes scanned around curiously at this new place and wondered just what her future might hold for her.

On the docks they were lead to a house where other slaves were being sold or traded. Eyes were on her, lustful stares making her smile a little from the attention she got. She always enjoyed it and wondered just who might be her new master now. She’ll be very satisfied for it to be someone wealthy and very handsome, but she’ll take whatever is given.

As they all waited to be looked at she was approached by a very handsome young man, blazing blue eyes and blonde hair making her eyes sparkle with excitement. She overheard him being a prince, a son of Ragnar, a name she’s heard of before, the eldest son from his second wife, name he held was Ubbe. Travelling everywhere she was familiar with the north man's language making her even more value.

“Greeting’s, my lord.” She spoke in her thick accent with a soft smile.

Ubbe noticed her the moment she came onto the docks and had to get a closer look at her and inspect. For weeks he’s tried finding the right slave that just might work out but hadn’t had much luck, until he saw her and knew she was very different from the others.

“Hello.” He answers looking her up and down. “You’re a long way from home? Tell me your name.”

“Katya.” She answers him. “Looking for some love, attention and care, my lord?” She asked battering her thick lashes at him.

“I only have one question. Are you patient?” His question did confuse her a little.

“Patient?” It was something she’s never been asked before however she still answered him honestly. “Yes, my lord. I’m a patient woman.”

“Good.”

As soon as the trader comes over Ubbe tosses him a large bag of gold coins which he eagerly accepted. Katya followed Ubbe out then with the fur coat still around her as the trader was too busy admiring his coins and no one said anything. Besides, it was very cold and she wasn’t wearing anything proper for the weather underneath.

“What would you like for me to call you, my lord?” She asked walking beside him.

“Just Ubbe.” He responds before stopping and gently pulling her aside so they were out from the crowds together. “Listen, I didn’t buy you for me.”

Honestly, she was a little disappointed, such a handsome man he was.

“You’re beautiful, very beautiful.” He smiles and she couldn’t help but smile back. “But I'm happily married man, I have no need for another woman.”

“That’s too bad, you’re very handsome. But you wouldn’t be the first married man to buy me, Ubbe. Your wife is very lucky to have such an honorable man like you.” She answers back as he gave a kind smile to her.

“Thank you. Anyway, I brought you for my brothers. Before I take you to them I must warn you, they have problems. I mean they’re always fighting with one another, arguing over nothing and just always shouting. I thought maybe a beautiful thrall for them to share might help them. That’s why I asked if you were patient, because you’ve got to need it with them.”

“I see.” She says nodding. “Don’t worry, I’ve had many men in my life, I’ve seen it all.”

What she didn’t realise was just how bad it was and how soon she spoke.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

The moment they entered the cabin together they were met with the shouting and chairs being knocked over. She stood back by the door as she watched with wide eyes as Ubbe tried breaking up the two other men wrestling one another on the floor.

“Knock it off! Both of you grow up!” Ubbe shouts looking very frustrated with them.

“The snake started it!” Ivar shouts back as he pushed himself up onto a chair.

“The crippled baby thinks I stole his knife!” Sigurd responds.

“Enough!” Ubbe’s had enough, and just rubbing his face followed by a long exhale was all she needed to see from him to know this.

Katya shifted on her feet in silence as the brothers tried to sort out on their own but judging from Ubbe she knew he’s had enough trying to deal with them. Now it was up to her, at least she’ll try. She’ll do her best to try and ease whatever tension is going on between them.

“Brothers, this is Katya.” Ubbe then introduces her to them. “She is a thrall. I just bought her for you both to share.”

“Share?” Ivar narrowed his brows before scoffing. “I’m not sharing with the snake.”

“Like you could pleasure a woman anyway.” Sigurd snarls back.

“I said enough!” Ubbe once more snaps at the both of them and moved his way passed her to head out. “Good luck.”

When the door closes again Katya looks at both Sigurd and Ivar with a tender smile. Yes, both very handsome, Ivar even more so with those blue glowing eyes of his

“My lords.” She says fondly to them. “I’m here to serve you both to your desire.”

It was going to be interesting though with them, that she admitted.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

As expected, it was very intense in the room with them. Never once has she been brought and never not had sex right away, it’s all men wanted from her but these two seemed to be not interested in that much to her surprise. All her life men wanted her in bed and she spread her legs for them like a good slave. Now here she was, sitting near the fire, board. She had been sitting for hours waiting for either of them to say something.

Sigurd had left, already half drunk and hasn’t returned while Ivar remained but ignored her. She felt his eyes on her every now and again looking unsure as he sharpened his daggers and kept himself busy with anything he could find just to pretend she wasn’t there.

The fur coat she wore was now off since it was warm enough in the cabin with the fire going, leaving her in the thin dress she still wore she her last master who’s wife wasn’t very pleased. That didn’t last long and now here she was, board.

Looking over at Ivar she looked down at his legs and studied the braces he wore wrapped around them, tilting her head curiously and this caught Ivar’s attention as he scoffed at her.

“Never seen a cripple before.”

“Actually I have, my lord.” She answers softly.

It was like her answer wasn’t what he was expecting and went back to sharpening the same dagger he’s been holding for the last hour.

Standing she then comes closer and sits in front of him, still watching as he nervously focused on his dagger.

All she did was watch him, smiling a little as he continued to hesitate so nervously trying to focus on what he was doing and not her.

“Why do you stare, woman?”

“Where else do you want me to stare, my lord?”

Ivar looks like he was about to say something back at her but decided not to before looking down twirling his blade. Katya then sat back on the fur rug on the floor and spread out on it like a cat, moaning lowly at the comfortable feel of it but to also tease Ivar.

“Why do you make noises?”

“Because it’s comfortable, my lord.” She giggles softly at him.

Ivar felt himself smirk before shaking his head.

“I don’t understand why Ubbe brought you for us. Sharing you with Sigurd wasn’t going to happen.” He says bluntly and she silently agreed with him after what she saw happen.

“You can decide that, my lord. I’m here and ready, all for you.” She purred turning over onto her hands and knees as she slowly crawled towards him like a cat.

Ivar watched her, a flicker of fear in his eyes as she then pushed herself up on her knees before him and slid her fingers under his waistband of his trousers.

“Don’t!” He grabbed her wrist tightly causing her to gasp from his sudden movement, an action she wasn’t expecting.

“Is something the matter?” She asked calmly looking up at him.

Ivar was breathing heavily and looked like he was about to kill something as his face screwed up in frustration. Katya then sat up, his grip still on her but sat beside him at the table.

“You can talk to me, my lord. What’s bothering you?” It wasn’t anything new for her masters to simply talk to her, sometimes men needed another’s ear to speak truthfully about what they were feeling.

“Like I would tell a slave.” He spat glaring. “All the same, fucking gossiping whores…” His words didn’t affect her, she’s been called much worse.

“I’m only offering ears for you to speak to. Whatever you tell me stays between us.” He scoffs as she told him this. “My lord, this is what I do. I make men happy, I’ve done so my whole life and I’m good at it.”

“If you’re so good at it then why are you here?” Good question.

“Because too many men who brought me had wives and no wife wants their husband seeking company from younger and more beautiful women. Either they were forced to give me up or they were poisoned before I was sold to the next highest bidder.”

Ivar narrowed his brows a little at her unsure by what she had just told him and seemed to ponder over her words for a bit while looking away from her.

“So...you’re good? You’re skilled?”

“Yes, very.” She answers proudly.

“Can you make any man, hard?” His question did confuse her a little unsure why he was asking such a thing.

“Yes, I can. Why do you ask, my lord?”

Now he looked like a frightened boy. His emotions and expressions shifted so much all the time and she knew this was something she’ll need to watch with him more.

“The last time....I couldn’t. I never...could.” There it was. She now understood.

“Was that your first experience?” He gave a shy nod as she smiled softly and tilted his head to turn and face her. “My lord, that’s fine, it happens. Not everyone’s first experience goes as they want. I’ve had men just like that when I was in the whore house for a time. They were so shy and had trouble getting it up but I helped them and now they go on pleasuring many other women.”

“So...it’s normal?” He sounded surprised. “I’m not...broken?”

“If you allow me I can prove that you’re not broken and give you an experience you’ll never forget.”

Leaning forward she then kissed him tenderly. He shied away for a moment before slowly leaned into the kiss as she caressed his cheeks softly. Breaking the kiss she smiled warmly at him before tracing her hands over his short hair like he was a small child seeking comfort.

“We can go to the bed to be more comfortable, my lord.” She says standing up and making her way over with a sway from her hips. When she sat down she beamed a little brighter in satisfaction seeing him crawling towards her and pushing himself up onto the bed.

She helped him lay back against the furs before she removed her dress leaving her naked for his view and helped remove his tunic before untying his trousers.

“Don’t remove my trousers. Just...a little.” She understood that he wasn’t ready to show her his legs or if he’ll ever be alright with that. Either way it didn’t bother her.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Katya only tugged down enough to free his cock which wasn’t hard but that was soon to change. She carefully took his cock in her slender hands and started to stroke him which rubbing her thumb over his tip. Leaning up she kissed him again, her free hand tracing against his skin to build up his arousal with different ways. All men had different desires and ways to get a boner.

Moving down his body Katya gently took hold of his cock and started to move her hand along his length. Further down she lowered her head and started to lick along his base causing his breath to hitch from the warm strange contact she gave him. Her mouth then started to suck at his balls, humming against him and slowly worked at his cock with patience. There have been many times she’s done this, it was nothing new for her.

Moaning more around his cock she then started to suck around his tip that was leaking salty fluids for her to taste and savour it all against her tongue enjoying it. She looked up at him through her lashes, smirking around his cock as he watched her with dazed eyes looking back down at her as he panted softly.

Slowly she started to bob her head around his length and stroke at his base while massaging his balls in her other hand. There was no doubt he was aroused already, she felt his cock twitch under her touch as she continued to work on him.

Removing her mouth with a wet pop she giggled lightly as she kept her gaze on him while still stroking him throbbing member.

“How is that, my lord?” She asked in a low husky voice.

“It feels strange…” He admitted with burning cheeks.

Smirking softly she then let go on him while he let out a small sound of protest but stopped and watched her as she carefully straddled his lap on him. Guiding his hand she lead it down to her core where she had his finger brush over her cunt which was dripping wet for him.

“You feel that, my lord? This is good. Women should be wet for a man’s cock, otherwise it won’t be pleasant for her if she’s dry.” She tells him so he’d know if he was to lay with any other woman for the future, but deep down she hoped he wouldn’t and continue to lay with her over again.

Ivar listened and nodded, understanding what she was telling him as his eyes filled with curiosity. It looked so cute on him she thought to herself.

“I think you’re ready for me now, my lord.” She purred biting her plump lips softly.

Gripping his now hard cock again she then started the rub his tip through her folds and slowly eased herself down onto him while letting out a breath of pleasure. Even though he was so young he had an impressive cock. She’s seen and had it all, but his was surprisingly formed close to perfection. He had a good both length and thickness which she liked.

Fully settled on him she placed her hands over his bare shoulders, eyes shining down on him as she slowly rocked her hips against him, rubbing herself against his pubes and letting out soft breaths of desire against his face.

“More.” His word whispers softly through his pants. “It feels so good, I want more.”

“Easy, my lord. It’s all about. Patience. Trust me, it’ll last much longer and feel better. Besides, why the hurry? We have all the time we need.” She says softly caressing his skin as she continued to roll her hips.

“Ivar.” He suddenly says looking at her. “Call me Ivar.”

“As you wish, Ivar.” Calling him by his name only added to her desire and started to circle her hips against him letting out a soft moan. “Yes, you feel so good in me.”

“I-I...Katya, I don’t think I’ll last much longer.” He warns her and before she could even say anything he suddenly erupts his seed within her depths and cry out half in desire and surprise. She wasn’t bothered by it, after all it was his first orgasm

“Sorry….” He murmurs softly looking down in shame until she had him look back up at her.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s alright. Besides, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m all yours to your desire.” I say through a happy smile making him smile softly back, so calm for even just a moment before we both heard the door to the cabin shaming open.

Sigurd was back and he was really drunk.

“The fuck you two doing?” He slurs waddling over past them. “You’re not...a fucking man! Boneless!” His words seemed to hit Ivar hard as he snarled but I gently placed my hand over his chest still on him.

“He’s drunk.” I answered softly. “Drunk words mean nothing.”

“His words hold hate.” He says back and he wasn’t lying.

“Get off his limp dick…” Sigurd sits on the second bed pulling himself out from his trousers and let’s himself hang there. “Get over here...I’m a real man!”

“Don’t go.” Ivar hisses to her but Katya gave a tender smile to him.

“It’s alright. Remember Ubbe brought me for both you and him, I must do as he says as well.” She answers before kissing his cheek and removing herself from him with a wet pop and coming over to Sigurd.

Kneeling in front of him she smiles but not in the same way towards Ivar.

“What do you want me to do, my lord?” She asks and he gives her such a sloppy smile through his drunkenness.

“Worship my cock!” It was something she’s heard before.

“As you wish, my lord.”

She then starts to tug his cock watching him carefully. There was something about to happen, she saw this and continued to play along. Less than a few minutes Sigurd then laid back against the bed while letting out loud snores filling the room.

“Did he just fall asleep?” Ivar asks seeming shocked but couldn’t hold back an amused smirk either.

“I’m not surprised. He was very drunk and won’t wake up until morning.” Katya answers before tucking him back in his pants patting the area and eagerly returning to Ivar. “He’s not a man, you’re more of a man than him.”

Hearing this from her seemed to please him as she crawled beside him again tracing her fingers over his chest.

“Can we go again?” The way he asked was no innocently making her smile fondly.

“We can go as many times as you want, Ivar. There is so much I can teach you and many ways to bring pleasure to a woman. The women will be lining up for you soon enough.” She answers wanting him to feel special.

“No.” He answers shaking his head. “I don’t want any other women, I only want you.” This made her smile a bit brighter before she kissed him tenderly.

“I’m all yours, Ivar. Have me as many times as you desire.”

And he did, very much.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #sigurd snake in the eye #ivar x reader #ivar x oc #sigurd x reader #sigurd x oc #ivar x oc x sigurd #sharing #smut #fandom #fanfiction #5cw #5cwivar #lol-haha-joke request

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