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inks-writing-space · 2 months ago

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Checkmate- Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader

My Masterlist <3

4.1k words: You are a good friend of Rebekah and visit her in the compound. There her older brother Elijah challenges you to a game of chess where you win easily. After time Elijah gets increasingly frustrated with your skills, until one night the tension snaps...

Warnings: smut, light dom/sub dynamics, light degradation, praise, rougher sex, blood drinking, dirty talk

A/N: Ahhh I love chess and in my mind Elijah is an absolut chess freak. Honestly I love this whole prompt. It‘s so much fun to write frustrated Elijah who loses it. Sooo yes enjoy. Also I have written-finals next week and I will hopefully publish one story between Sunday and Wednesday (I have like 3 Klaus drafts to finish) and then I‘ll probably take a break to enjoy the time after finals. (And before spoken finals) But now enjoy Elijah being a bad loser. Ps: add me on chess.com: Darth_Laeka

~~~~~~~

The storm outside had turned into a slow, steady downpour, drumming softly against the windows of the Mikaelson compound. It was your first time visiting it. You were a friend of Rebekah, you two had only met recently and gotten along immediately. Nevertheless it took her very long to invite you over. Despite you knowing about all the supernatural surrounding her life you had always wanted to be inside the Mikaelson compound.

But now Rebekah had gone upstairs fighting with Kol over shoes he had destroyed ("You did it on purpose!" "Rebekah I didn't even know those were yours") and for safety reasons (you were scared of Rebekah when she was angry) you had decided to stay downstairs. You looked around trying not to intrude, but you couldn’t help and admire the whole building. The entire compound was breathtaking. The furniture seemed ancient and expensive. The Mikaelson‘s were old money and you knew that, but everytime you were shopping with Rebekah you were reminded how rich they truly were.

Suddenly you noticed a chess board set up on a table across the room. Despite the fact that the pieces were all over the place it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It looked as if every single piece had been done by hand and knowing the Mikaelson’s that wasn’t so unlikely.

You picked up the black queen, your fingers running over the smoothed wood. You smiled as you kept looking at the figures. You were admiring a rook when a voice, smooth and deep, spoke from behind you.

"Do you play?“

You turned, suprised to find Rebekah‘s big brother, Elijah. You didn’t know a lot about Elijah but when you saw him in his suit leaning against the doorway so casual you had to smile a little. There were no need to hide your true abilities or be modest. You loved playing chess and had been quite good at in since your childhood, you loved how able you were to control the pieces while you systematically teared the other side apart.

"Yes I do,“ you said with a smirk setting the pawn down, watching him taking a step forward

“Then we should play,“ he said his voice calm as always as he made his way over to you, inspecting you before sitting down, "I barely have good opponents.“

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’d hate to bruise that centuries-old ego,“ you said jokingly before taking your seat across him.

A quiet chuckle tore from Elijah’s throat as he raised an eyebrow, "Darling, I’ve been playing chess longer than you’ve been alive.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics and smirked as he turned the chessboard so you could have white.

You moved your pawn to d4 and Elijah contered with his pawn to d5. Then your knight to f3. Elijah looked at you but didn’t say anything before moving his bishop to b4. He didn’t have to say check but you quickly contered with a pawn to c3. Elijah had obviously only tried to intimidate you because his bishop retreated. You kept playing it safe for a while before you got bolder and took his queen.

"You talk about playing chess for centuries and now you fell for that?,“ you asked with a raised eyebrow. Elijah didn’t respond but you saw his jaw tense.

At first, he had played as if entertaining a guest. He smiled when he took your pawn. He complimented a clever move of yours but he only did that once. But as you took the queen and then his rook something shifted.

He started leaning forward. He studied the board longer. He touched one piece, paused, and withdrew his hand.

"Are you trying to castle me?,“ he mumbled and took another pawn. You tried not to grin, you had him exactly were you had wanted.

Ten more moves in and Elijah’s brows furrowed slightly, the first crack in his flawless composure. His knight was trapped, his bishop pinned, and your queen had just begun to sweep dangerously close.

“You’re… good,” he said quietly, watching your fingers as you moved a piece with practiced ease.

“I told you,” you said, resting your chin in your hand.

Another move, then another. You saw his eyes narrowing as you took his bishop. Then finally it was time for your final attack. He sat back slowly, almost disbelieving. His gaze flicked from the board to your face and back.

“You’re bluffing,” he murmured, but it was more to himself than to you.

“Nope,” you said sweetly, then pushed your queen into place. “Will you resign or do you wish to go through the whole humiliation process were I checkmate you?“

Elijah stared at the board, utterly still. He finally looked up at you, a slow, stunned smile spreading across his face. “I cannot remember the last time someone beat me.”

“You’ll remember this one,” you said, smug.

---

The next times you came over the chessboard was already set. Rebekah was rolling her eyes because Elijah insisted on playing a round of chess with her friend, after everytime her and Rebekah hung out. You wanted to decline, but his gaze held something challenging, his smirk something deceiving.

This went on for weeks. After a especially nasty loss for Elijah it was him who invited you over, not Rebekah. As you entered Elijah was seated in the room, wine poured, blazer off, sleeves rolled. He barely glanced up as you walked in, but you could feel the intensity in the air like static before a storm. You bit your lip but couldn't stop yourself from commenting.

“I see you’ve prepared for defeat,” you teased lightly, slipping into the chair across from him.

His eyes finally met yours, dark and unreadable. “I’d call it preparation for redemption.”

You smiled, slow and amused, already reaching for your first pawn. “That sounds dangerously close to hope."

The match began in silence, save for the gentle clink of glass and the occasional sound of your pieces meeting the board. Elijah played aggressively tonight, starting with The Scotch Game. You were about to make a joke about the name of the opening and the fact that he was drinking wine, but when you looked up you realized how serious he was. Elijah was done with polite openings and careful traps. His knight struck early, cornering your bishop, and his queen started to go on your nerves.

Nevertheless through it all you stayed calm and composed, blocking his attacks deciding to play a safe game, without recklessnes. And it drove him mad.

Each move you made unraveled his careful control. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, in the flicker of frustration in his eyes when you slid your rook across the board with the confidence of someone who knew the end was already written.

By the time you murmured, “Check,” he was staring at the board like it had betrayed him personally.

He leaned back in his chair, one hand covering his mouth, the other drumming fingers against his thigh. You took a sip of his wine, pretending not to watch him seethe in slow, dignified silence.

Kol passed you two and raised his eyebrows watching the normally completely composed Mikaelson looking disheveled. "Elijah do you want t-," he started but Elijah raised his hand making Kol shut his mouth and left with a shrug.

“You’re toying with me,” Elijah muttered at last.

You raised an eyebrow, “Or I’m just better at chess.”

His gaze snapped to you, sharp and heated. “I haven’t lost this many matches in centuries.” You chuckled slightly, "In a row or in general?“

He didn’t reply immediately. Just watched you, his eyes traveling over your face, down to your lips, your hands on the edge of the board.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he said softly, voice low. “Winning?” “No," he leaned in slightly. “Driving me insane.”

Your pulse jumped. You tried to hide it with a shrug, but he saw. Of course he saw.

You moved your final piece, trying to avoid his gaze, "Checkmate.”

Elijah stared at the board, then at you. I took a while and then he laughed quietly and disbelieving, shaking his head, the sound rough at the edges. “You are… impossible.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He stood slowly, coming around the table. You turned in your chair just as he reached you, his hand curling around the back of it. He was imposing your space but you didn't mind as he was hovering above you.

“I’m not sure yet,” he said, low against your ear. “But I know I’m not letting you leave without another game.”

Your breath caught in your throat “And if you lose again?”

His hand brushed your jaw, fingers barely touching. “Then I’ll have to find another way to win.”

Your hands were shivering as you set the figures up again. He took the hint and sat back watching you intensely. "Well let's hope it won't come down to that," you said your voice not sounding as composed as you had hoped.

Elijah jaw was tensed but there was the illusion if a smile on his lips. But you wouldn't let him win just because he was hot (Which he was. Like really, really smoking hot. brother of your best friend this, brother of your best friend that, Elijah was the prettiest man you had seen in a long time), that was why you took his bishops, his rooks, his queen and finally his king again with a sweet smile. Elijah didn’t even wince. As you stood up to head home Elijah speeded towards you, taking your wrist, "Wait," he whispered.

You turned around, heart racing at how close he was. His hand was still around your wrist, not tight, but firm as if he didn't want to let go, even if he would the second you asked.

“Elijah?” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes were already on you, dark and unreadable, flickering between your lips and your eyes. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t empty, it was charged with electricity, as he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

“Listen, I have lost before. And I keep telling myself it’s just chess,” he murmured, his voice soft but threaded with something rougher underneath. “But I’ve never cared this much about losing a game.”

You blinked, mouth parting, and before you could reply, he was leaning in slowly giving you every second to stop him. Your breath hitched and your heart was racing probably a million times per hour but you didn't.

His lips brushed yours once and then again, a lot firmer like he’d finally allowed himself to fall forward. His free hand rose to cradle your jaw, tilting your head up as he deepened the kiss, and it was all heat and control and the quiet, devastating kind of hunger you’d only seen in glances before now.

His lips moved over yours with a reverence that made your knees weaken, like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the softness of your sigh as you leaned into him.

Your fingers found his shirt, clutching it like an anchor, and Elijah deepened the kiss just slightly, just enough to steal your breath and leave you craving more. The hand on your jaw slid back into your hair, his fingers threading through it gently, possessively, like he’d already decided he never wanted to let go.

When he finally pulled back, barely an inch, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was uneven, his voice husky when he whispered, “Come upstairs with me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, like he already knew your answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

Your pulse jumped. “And what if I say no?”

He smiled, that perfect, composed Elijah Mikaelson smile, but there was a flicker of something dangerous behind it now. “Then I’ll insist on a rematch.”

You didn’t answer. You just kissed him again, and that was all the answer he needed.

In one smooth motion, he picked you up and you let out a startled laugh. His grip was strong, steady, like holding you was the easiest thing he’d done all night.

“I didn’t know vampires carried people to bed like that,” you teased, breathless.

“Only the ones who win,” he said, eyes locked on yours.

He threw you onto his bed and closed the door behind him. His sleeves were still rolled up and he hovered above you.

"You’re infuriating," he said, his voice low and rough with restraint. “And briliant, but you toyed with me," he said kissing your neck. You closed your eyes and smirked as he held himself above you. “And you loved it,“ you whispered.

A smile flickered across his face as he looked down at you again, “I did,” he admitted, hovering so close his breath tickled your skin. “God, I did. You have no idea, what I was thinking every time you wore that smug smile."

He kissed you again, harder this time, with none of the earlier hesitation. There was praise in every touch, every press of his mouth against yours. His lips moved to your jaw, your throat, worshipful and hungry all at once. As if he was trying to communicate through his kisses how much he had enjoyed it

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you play,” he muttered against your neck. “How focused you get. How satisfied that little smile is when you take one of my pieces like it’s inevitable.”

You gasped softly as his fingers slid under your shirt, slow but sure, and he pushed it above your head throwing it to the floor. You arched into him as he pressed kisses down your collarbone, each one slower than the last, until he finally pushed the cups of your bra down taking your nipple into his mouth.

He unhooked the bra, bitting down on your other nipple making you gasp and look at him, "Maybe next time I'll bend you over that table, making you play while I take you from behind," he muttered into your ear.

You had to laugh. His words were so filthy and so unlike the Elijah you had come to know it was almost funny. He looked at you his eyes betraying his amusement as he licked over your hardened bud one time again before he kissed down your belly.

You felt your arousal and your body heated up as you watched him opening your skirt and pushing it down your thighs, before his fingers slipped between your thighs very slowly and controlled. It was maddening somehow. He watched your reaction closely, the way your lips parted and your hips shifted forward, just barely, as he ran the pad of his finger between your fold.

“Impatient, are we?” he murmured, voice like velvet, mocking you. You huffed. Normally you were the one mocking him while you were playing. A moan escaped you as he slipped a finger inside you, moving it slowly and purposefully. He was still fully clothed, while you were bare beneath him, squirming as he continued stretching you. His finger was a lot thicker and longer then yours and he knew exactly how to angle it to make you enjoy it while his thumb on your clit was igniting a fire inside you.

You met his gaze, lips curling into that same smirk that had cost him three matches in a row, “If I knew you were this good with your hands, I might’ve let you win.”

That made him pause. His hand stilled for just a second, and then he chuckled, low and darkly, it was a side of him you had never seen before but assumed that it was somewhere beneath the layers of his suit.

“You can dominate me on the chessboard,” he said, another finger slipping inside, sliding deeper, making you gasp as he curled them, “but not in bed.”

You were about to throw something cocky back at him, but then his thumb circled just right and the thought shattered like glass as your body started to tremble and you squirmed beneath him.

“Still smug?” he asked softly, watching you unravel.

You dug your nails into his shoulder and whispered, breath hitching, “I can multitask.”

His hand moved faster, expertly precise, like every move on the chessboard had just been practice for this, and now he was winning. It felt as if he was trying to find out how much you were able to take.

“Darling,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, as he slipped in a second finger, “the only game you’re playing right now is mine.”

Your body was trembling, breath ragged, as Elijah held your gaze with that maddening, controlled composure, the kind that only made you want to beat him. But this was his terrain and he knew exactly what to do to make you come undone.

He didn’t look away once as your back arched, as your fingers dug into the sheets. "Elijah," you moaned as he kissed you hard and kept his pace.

Suddenly he pulled out and you whimpered, trying to gain friction back, looking at him panicked as if to ask what had happened. He laughed at how desperately you tried to grind yourself against his hand and stood up watching you while you were still panting, as he undid his belt, took of his shirt and pulled his jeans down. You moved onto your belly, crawling to the end of the bed, your hands pushing his boxers down, revealing his half hard cock.

"Can you take all of me?," he whispered his hand gripping your head and you bit your lips nodding. He really was big and your cheeks heated up at the idea of him inside you.

“Open your mouth,“ he commanded

You did, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound barely restrained. He stroked himself once, then pressed the tip against your parted lips, smearing precum across them before sliding in slowly. His grip in your hair tightened again as he pushed deeper.

“That’s it,” he murmured, eyes hooded as he watched your lips stretch around him. “So obedient when I ask nicely.”

He didn’t give you a chance to take control, not that you would have expected it. With both hands in your hair now, he began to move slow, as if he wanted to get you to know the feeling. You moaned around him, the vibrations making him groan again as his hips rolled forward.

“You look so pretty like this,” he said, almost to himself. “Your mouth full off my cock, while your eyes are on me.”

He slid deeper with each thrust, until your throat opened for him, and he let out a hiss of pleasure, his jaw clenching. He held you there for a beat, buried deep, watching you struggle to breath and he loved it. He shifted your hair into a ponytail so he was able to hold it even better.

“Breathe through your nose, darling,” he murmured, a hand brushing the side of your face in a brief, shockingly tender moment. “Good girl.”

He began to move again, setting a pace that left your throat burning and your thighs pressed tightly together. He was relentless but controlled, his hips moving with steady force while his hands kept you exactly where he wanted you. You whimpered as his right hand grabbed your neck to angle you even better.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he growled, watching his cock disappear between your lips. “Of fucking that smart mouth until you can’t speak and that smug little grin disappears from your face.”

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, but the heat coiling low in your belly was unbearable. You moaned again, loving the way he lost just a little more control every time you did. He was in control but you had quickly figured out what was turning him on.

He pulled out with a wet pop, while you gasped for air. He smirked down at you, thumb wiping at the corner of your mouth.

“Still think you’re winning?” he asked, voice full of dark satisfaction.

You tried to respond, but he was already pushing you back onto the bed, crawling over you with the kind of confidence that promised he wanted to fuck more than just your mouth tonight.

You didn’t even get a full breath in before Elijah had you flipped onto your stomach, hands pressing your hips down into the mattress.

“All those games,” he muttered, his voice low and sharp as his body hovered above yours. “All those nights you humiliated me. Smiling. Gloating. Like I was nothing but a pawn.” He bit you slowly drawing some of your blood making you whimper as he drank. You couldn’t see him as he withdrew, but you were sure his mouth was full of your blood and you shivered at the thought.

You gasped as he yanked your hips up, the sheets rough beneath your knees. He didn’t wait or tease anymore. He slid into you in one hard, punishing thrust, and you screamed into the mattress. Your fingers curled around the sheets holding you as you tried to get used to it and the pain mixed with pleasure as he slowly made you lightheaded.

“This,” he growled into your ear, thrusting again, harder this time, his pace becoming punishing. “This is what I’ve been thinking about every time you beat me.”

You clutched the sheets harder, your body shaking as he pounded into you with a fury that bordered on unhinged. His fingers dug into your hip as if he was trying to anchor himself, you knew his fingers would leave bruises bug you didn’t really care. Maybe you even liked the thought.

“I watched you lean over that board, all smug, while drinking my wine,“ he snarled. “I knew exactly what you were doing. I knew you wanted me to snap.”

Your moans were helpless now, high and broken, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. But he didn’t soften. He couldn’t. Not when he finally had you like this.

“Finally,” he hissed, pulling you back onto him, grinding so deep you saw stars. “I get my payback.”

You cried out as his hand slid up your spine and wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you there, pinned beneath him. You grinded your hips back encouraging him to keep going and he was happy to do so.

“You think you’re so clever,” he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder, again licking the wound he had left, “So untouchable. But look at you now, love, you are moaning like a little whore while being split apart by my cock. But you can handle it, can’t you?“

You couldn’t even answer, only nod. The pace, the intensity, the sheer force of his frustration was unraveling you from the inside out. Your climax built too fast, too sharp, and when it hit you, it stole the sound from your lungs. You screamed and your body trembled and for the second you had your eyes pressed together only seeing a white light. You clenched around him, thighs trembling, and that was it.

He lost it.

He groaned, raw and ragged, as he buried himself deep one last time, coming hard inside you. You felt him pulse, heard the curse fall from his lips as his hand fisted in the sheets beside your head and his fangs buried on the other side of your neck.

After that there was a long silence. He stayed there for a moment, chest heaving against your back, his breath hot against your neck. Then he pulled out slowly, almost reluctantly, and collapsed beside you, hand brushing your thigh, his voice low, "Are you alright? Was it too rough?“

You shook your head and moved into his hug. He pulled the covers over you both before leaning down again. "Checkmate,“ he whispered and you had to laugh shaking your head.

"A draw at best,“ you said. Elijah rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else before kissing you deeply again.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson x y/n #smut #the originals imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader smut

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bonbonly · 5 months ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray - when bishop!max decides to stay for the christmas festivities, chapter!charles leclerc finds it harder to hide his true religion: you. (this is a continuation of Temptation) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping, p in v, fingering, lactation, oral (m receiving), stoning, almost burning at the stake. this fic contains heavy catholic themes/guilt, and also includes angst and redemption. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.4k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on popular demand, i've made the sequel for Temptation! (read it if you haven't already!) writing this series made me a charles girlie omg

from the light through the cathedral's glass windows, the heavenly father centered his glory around the statue of virgin mary carrying her holy son, the loving baby jesus. above the ledge from where you stood, you glimpsed down to see the swarm of people shuffling into the main altar, getting on their knees as your child's father offered the lord's blessings to each loyal devotee. you watched the gentle smile on his face as he bowed his head, forming a cross on his chest with his hands. a soft amen fell from his lips, his eyes creased together as he giggled at something a child had said to him. his soft nature contrasted his demeanor towards you every night when he snuck into the attic to deliver another basket of bread and milk. he was a different man past the hours of the cathedral, the devil himself. you glanced down to your blissfully asleep bundle of joy in your arms, his tiny hands wrapped your finger as you gently rocked him back and forth. you could've loved the being in your arms had it not been out of a horrendous union that brought you turmoil more than love. you could've had the heart to smother him in kisses like any mother would to their child, to gift him every joy in the world had he been born to a man that you loved.

"you look cold, here have my cloak," charles leaned forward to kiss your forehead, draping the fabric over your shoulders. his head nestled onto your shoulder, ignoring the disdainful expression on your face. both your eyes fell down to your son, his soft coos echoing in the dark room where charles stored his obsessions. love was not in his vocabulary. for if he loved you, you knew he would let you go. charles gave your cheek a soft kiss, letting his warm lips linger on your cold skin, so that you could understand he would always be a part of you. a reminder of your new life as the mother to his child, another servant of god. your shoulders sagged at the declaration inside your head: this was your life. this was how you would spend the rest of your years. buried away in a dark attic where no man shall ever know of you existence - save your son - and you would rot away without the luxury of having a stable family. you envied your friends who were married and had a robust family tree, a dozen children to their name which they had wanted willingly. charles could see the sadness in your eyes, the way your head cast downwards with tears rolling down your cheeks. his breath hitched when the rays of light shone down on you; he saw the weeping virgin stand before him for a split second, her pain from the earthly world, from him. his eyes cast down to his child giggling with his arms outstretched for his father, and charles picked up the infant.

"leo is looking very healthy," he whispered, his eyes flickering to you for confirmation. you slowly nodded your head, your gaze transfixed onto the stone cracks. "i expect some words from you, mon ange."

"he is very healthy," you murmured, slowly lifting your gaze to face his. his eyes hardened into a glare, not happy with your attitude as of late. you acted as if it was the end of the world. what better pleasure would a woman such as yourself have if not being a servant of the lord, the mother to his child, his only possession far greater than the rosary he hung around his neck. he placed his son in the wooden cradle secretly made a long time ago when he first learned you were pregnant, and he grabbed hold of your arm to have you stand on your feet. his fingers dug into your jaw, forcing you to stare at him,

"what is wrong with you? have you forgotten your duties?" he questioned, watching you squirm under his grasp. your pitiful attempts to push him off were swatted away with his free hand, "you could've been a whore on the streets had i not rescued you. the grace of the holy father has led you to me, this is your chance at salvation and yet you act as if you'd rather live in perdition than with the heaven i have gifted you!"

he watched your tears collect onto his fingers, those rosy lips of yours now a small pout. he sighed out loud, repenting for his mistake of treating you so harshly and he leaned down to capture your lips into a kiss.

"oh, ma chère reine, come now. i am only doing this for your good," he kissed away your tears, caressing your face with his thumb. "it is not good for you to cry, i hate to see you cry. i only want to ever see you happy, n'est-ce pas vrai?"

your response is ignored as he sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed he had placed besides the cradle. there was a small curtain that separated the "room" between yours and your son. charles laid you onto the mattress as if you were a dandelion, at any second you could be blown away out of his arms. his lips found your forehead once more, his touch gentle that for a moment, you were fooled into thinking that maybe he did love you. maybe, despite all the horrible things he had done to you, you could be safe in his arms. with parted lips, he cradled your face in his hands to pepper your face with kisses. your weeping eyes, your red nose, those cold cheeks and those rosy lips that always beckoned to him like the devil that you once were. his lips traveled down your neck, providing your bosom with open-mouthed kisses that were sure to leave marks. you were his, and had it not been his fate to serve for the lord, he would've married you as soon as your belly swelled with his child. it would've been a child out of wedlock and it still was but he didn't really care, but you were a mother. a beautiful mother that gave birth to such an extraordinary child. he undid your corset, letting the fabric slide down as his fingers popped through the strings of your shirt, revealing your swollen tits, already leaking with your milk.

the cross on the valley of your breasts was now a pale scar, and his fingers ghosted over the memories of events precisely a year ago. when he made you his. you weren't even looking at him, your attention on the curtain with your son's soft snores flooding the room. it sickened you that there was no comfort anywhere. charles rolled your nipples around with his thumbs, applying pressure on your hardening peaks as your milk trickled down gently. he squeezed them, leaving his mouth wide open to catch your strays. you always tasted so good. he almost envied his own child for being able to nurse off of you. he moved to nestle himself between your legs, hiking the skirt up. he kissed your ankles, using his free hand to push your panties to the side. spitting onto your cunt, he watched his own saliva glide down your folds, spilling onto the bed beneath the both of you. he would've taken his time with you had he not been occupied with his role as the chapter priest, but nonetheless his throbbing cock was free from its confines and he pushed into your velvety walls, groaning at the sensation. even after birthing a child, you still felt so good. so warm. you felt like home to him. he rocked his hips against yours, smiling when you finally broke your vow of silence to moan out loud and he leaned over to capture your areola in his mouth, drinking up the milk you had to offer him. his thrusts were always sharp, burying himself to the hilt to ensure that even without him filling you up, you'd always feel him inside.

"si parfait et tout à moi," he whispered, tilting his head up to watch you throw your head, completely gone in pleasure. he wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body flush against him, his cock drilling into you with fervor. "that's it, you can cum for me..."

that's all you needed to let yourself go, lips parting into an oval shape as you let out a guttural moan, sobbing into his arms. he silenced your whimpers with his lips, his cock still pummeling into you with erratic thrusts that signaled his climax was approaching. his goal was to fill you up again and again, hoping you'd be able to grow his family. you were so beautiful like this, slumped out against the bed, completely spent. upon hearing leo fussing, he dressed himself up quickly and scooped the baby up in his arms. you deserved some rest anyway.

"you have such a beautiful mother, you are so lucky leo. the lord has bestowed everything you ever need to you, un garçon vraiment très chanceux" he smiled. your eyes traveled up to the debilitated ceiling, unsure if your body could take the toll of having any more children. leo's birth was so tiresome, and it didn't help that you were kept as a secret. charles had acted as if he wasn't the actual father of the child, and he had your face covered so that no one could see that you were back from the supposed dead. you barely had time to recover from giving birth when charles immediately placed you on the wagon to head back to the cathedral. it was a nightmare you never wanted to relive ever again.

charles had left you and the baby to sleep, locking the door behind him. he trusted you enough not to try and escape him, but he knew for sure if you were willing to stay with him. the lord worked in mysterious ways, and perhaps his doubts were best to be cleared after a few hours of prayer. as he descended the back staircase, he passed by father gasly's cell who grinned at the sight of his friend.

"father leclerc! i was just wondering where you could've gone, mon cher ami, you almost could've missed it!" the french man slapped his hand onto charles' back, guiding him down the hallway.

"missed what?"

"bishop max is coming to spend christmas week with us. he was issued by the pope to see how large the spirit is during the holidays," father gasly explained, and charles rolled his eyes. since the day he joined the church, he'd always hated max. it didn't help that max had such close connections to the former pope at such a young age. if charles was the golden boy to his church, max was the son of the catholic religion. it was so clear that in another 10 years, max would become the pope one day. charles hated him for it, he already saw what was going to happen: max would come over and gloat in his face. he always used to beat him to prayer, getting the guidance offered by the senior priests first and charles would get the crumbs. he sucked his teeth, stepping into the main altar to find archdeacon vasseur laughing along with a man in a pointed hat, a cane in his hand that he tossed from one side to another. the archdeacon glanced over the man's shoulder to see charles, a wide grin on his face as he greeted the young man.

"ah, father leclerc! look who has brought glory to our cathedral with his presence!" the old man laughed, and charles' jaw went taut at the sight of max standing there, a crooked smile on his lips.

"ah, father leclerc! such a pleasure to see you again!" max's accent was still as thick as charles last remembered,

"good to see you again bishop verstappen," charles bowed his head slightly, feeling all his anger boil up to his head. he bit his tongue, remembering father bozzi's words from a year ago: never let your emotions get the best of you. keep that tongue of yours in check. charles clutched onto his rosary, hoping the holy cross would burn into his palm so that he would remain silent.

"you may call me father, no need for even more formalities," max laughed, "now i haven't been to this cathedral in quite some times. looks a bit worn, does it not?"

"we have so many visitors that our focus is mainly on them," charles snapped, ignoring the blatant side-eye father gasly was giving his friend. max raised an eyebrow, a hint of an amused smirk on his lips,

"i suppose so. i might need to go around this entire place. do some checks and see what could be added before christmas. pope hamilton said this place was one of the holiest in the world, and it ought to look like it." max adjusted his hat, glancing around the altar with an indifferent expression on his face. using his cane, he pushed charles to the side before walking off.

"what did pope hamilton see in him to promote him to bishop?" charles seethed, and father gasly nudged him with his elbow,

"father leclerc, jealousy does not suit you. if he heard you, he'd have you-"

"let him hear, i don't care. walking into my church and acting like he owns the place," he scoffed.

"your church?" father gasly snickered, "is this church not in the rightful ownership of the holy father? you don't own anything save your bible and rosary."

charles stared at his friend with a very dark expression on his face. he did have ownership. maybe not to the church, but definitely you and your child. he held his tongue, moving towards the altar to get onto his knees and pray. the father from the heavens had to ensure nothing bad would happen with max's presence. christmas was only a few days away, and the last thing charles' needed was a reflection on his cruel actions. no matter how many times he convinced himself that he was doing the world good by having you as his personal whore, he still felt like something was amiss. the light from the cross above him always seemed to dim when he stood before the altar. the organs did not sing the same tunes it once did when he pressed his fingers upon the keys. a mystery that he could not understand. the rosary around his neck reflected the light from the glass panels, right onto his heart. his eyes were closed, however, blind as always to the message the lord gave him.

max had past the hallway to the individual cells for the priests, but his eyes quickly caught hold of the staircase that was covered in sooth and dust. he frowned, running his fingers over the railings and recoiled in disgust at the dirt that stained his pale skin. he shook it off and grabbed his cane, tapping at the wood to make it wouldn't collapse onto him if he decided to climb the staircase. when his checks were through, he carefully ascended up to the top of the cathedral where the gargoyles slept peacefully. the bell-ringers were out for break so he wouldn't have to deal with their thousand questions. from what he could see, it was an open empty space, a clear view to the village down below. there was a room at the end of the passageway that had a few windows. he assumed it was for the bell-ringers to take short breaks and was about to head back downstairs when he heard a slight hum travel through the air. he circled back to the room, taking note of the lock on the door. pressing his ear against the door, he could hear a baby laughing while another voice sang soft lullabies. max moved to the window, peering through the bars to see you sitting on the ground, holding your son up as you took note of the way his legs scrunched together. you bent down to kiss his nose, watching his little face light up.

"didn't know the church held its own nursery here," max watched you stare at him with wide eyes, fear in your features as you held your baby firmly against your chest, his little head nestled in your neck.

"w-who are you? h-how... what are you doing here?" you questioned. even the bell-ringers had never come over. charles had convinced them all that they could do their duty one floor down. the well kept secret was now in the hands of a man you didn't even know.

"no need to fear me, schat." he smiled, "i'm bishop verstappen. i've come here to celebrate christmas with your church."

there was some sort of an edge in his voice, something that you could not explain. you glanced around your room, trying to avoid his sharp gaze. you never realized how suffocating this room really was until now. you set leo back down in his cradle, feeling your back being burned just being in his line of sight.

"you live here?" max inquired, the sound of his cane raking against the bars of the window making you clutch your ears. the metal scraping brought back horrid memories of the confines charles had you in, the whip of air as the flog drew red marks on your tits. you clutched your chest, still feeling the edge of the rosary being dragged on your skin to form the cross.

"y-yes," you breathed out, peering over your shoulder to see what new devil was at your doorstep. he frowned, tilting his head,

"interesting. and who knows about you? other than me of course."

you debated on telling him the truth. should you tell him the events from a year ago? but what if he was just as bad as charles? what if he found out you were originally a heretic and wanted to kill you? you gulped, deciding to play safe in the moment, "father leclerc, but he is nice enough to gift me bread and milk for the baby and i. aside from him, no one else knows."

"father leclerc does charity work? that's new of him," max snickered, "he keeps you locked away in here, though. do you offer him service for his hospitality?"

"n-no," you whispered, gulping, "none of that kind."

"a child out of wedlock," max pointed towards the cradle where leo was fast asleep, "and father leclerc has pitied you for it? he never was the type to do so. he was always stuck up from what i remember."

"he has changed."

"very much so indeed." max's lips formed into a thin line, "well, i shall see to it that you are free from your confines. a woman such as yourself should have the right to roam around this cathedral freely. as long as no one sees your baby, you should be safe." had he known the truth of your situation, you knew he wouldn't have been so kind to you. you nodded your head, listening to his footsteps fade away. you collapsed onto your bed, head in your hands as you thought about what would happen if charles came to hear of this.

charles was listening to a father lament about his dying son, torn between wanting to give him a proper burial but not having enough money to do so. he furrowed his brows, feeling sympathetic towards the man and he took off one of the rings given to him a long time ago by his late father. it was made out of gold, and he usually wouldn't have parted with it but he figured his father would rather the ring be used for something good than just an accessory. he dropped the ring into the palm of the man's hand and bowed his head,

"it is not quite equal to your son's burial but as stated from genesis 23:6 - none of us will withhold from you his tomb to hinder you from burying your dead," charles began, watching the man's face light up, "bury your son with the money the ring offers. if one dares question you, bring him to me and i shall discuss with him. may the lord guide your son's soul to the heavens. i shall send a chaplain soon to your quarters for his last rites."

the man held onto charles' hand, kissing it gently with tears in his eyes, "thank you, father leclerc. thank you, thank you. the holy father has done us all great service by having you among us."

charles' chest tightened at his words, a sensation that became more frequent these days. guilt was eating him alive, but he did not know why. he knew he was continuing the lord's work, being a very devout servant. but in the back of his mind, he remembered you all alone up in that cold room with leo, the sad look in your eyes. he watched the man exit the tall doors of the cathedral, and he caught hold of the statue of virgin mary carrying the infant jesus. his chest tightened once more, remembering the weeping virgin he saw in your eyes earlier. right when he was about to head back to his cell, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. much to his dismay, it was bishop verstappen and charles rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.

"father verstappen, did you have a nice tour of our church?" charles glared at him, wanting to make his disgust extremely evident.

"mhm, very nice. i just didn't think you to be so charitable. giving away your father's ring just like that?" max sighed,

"i had nothing to bury my father in when he passed away. i only wish for this man's son to not suffer the same fate. everyone deserves to be buried," charles responded.

"tsk, tsk, tsk, you have gotten much softer, father leclerc, last i remember you were very keen on banishing my soul to hell if given the opportunity."

"that hasn't changed, actually. i'm just trying to be cordial since pope hamilton sent you here." charles growled, "charity is a good thing."

"i never argued with you about it, i'm just surprised the extent to which your charity goes." max narrowed his eyes, "and in the name of charity, i hope you haven't abused your rights as a servant to the lord. the kleine duif wishes to escape her cage. don't keep dogs tied up for too long."

charles gaped in horror as max walked off with a knowing smirk. he straightened his shoulders, glancing up to the ceiling of the cathedral before grabbing his rosary and heading up the back staircase. unbeknownst to him, max saw the chapter priest swiftly ascending the staircase and the bishop laughed to himself, realizing that he had charles exactly where he needed him to be: beneath him at all costs. the pretty dove upstairs was a sight for sore eyes, and by no means was max a perfect man. he had flaws, too. as any man would. years of celibacy could not be easily achieved in this modern world. not when women such as yourself always tempted the innocent priests into sin. he wondered if charles had ever touched you, ever marked you as his. there was no way he wouldn't have, but charles was always known for being so perfect and prudish that it wasn't far out of the question to assume that he was only helping you and nothing else.

charles had unlocked the door to your room, his chest heaving in anger as he saw you laying on your bed with those empty, forlorn eyes. he slammed the door behind him, marching over to see you sitting up on the bed with a finger to your lips.

"you'll wake the baby," you chastised him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to him,

"did anyone see you?" he hissed, "answer the truth. if you lie to me, i won't hesitate to have you punished for your disobedience to me."

you swallowed, thickly and shook your head slowly. he could see your eyes gloss over, the rosary shining in your eyes. he grabbed your hair and yanked it backwards, disregarding your pained whimpers,

"do. not. lie. to. me." he punctuated each word with a slap to your face. you bottom lip quivered, your scowl deepening, "tell me the truth. who saw you here? was it max?" he would never give the title to a man he hated, much less the respect he deserved.

"max saw me," and you brought out your hands to try and calm charles down, "b-but i didn't tell him anything. i only said that you had me here to save me from the outside world. you were giving me a place to hide my baby and me!"

he raised an eyebrow, "and how should i believe you?"

"you have to trust me, charles!" you begged, growing frustrated at his lack of respect for you, "if i wanted to jeopardize your future at this church i would've done that a long time ago!"

"oh, really?" charles laughed bitterly, "so you've thought about that before have you not? is that what you're telling me?"

"charles, no!" you cried out, struggling to escape his firm grip in your hair, "you're not listening to me! the door was still locked, all max did was ask who i was and i lied to him! he does not know about our arrangement, he does not know anything!"

"get on your knees," charles hauled you off the bed, dragging you onto the stone floor, "open that mouth of yours. unless your mouth serviced me, i'll assume you have used it to speak lies."

you groaned out loud, clamping your mouth shut as you glared at him. that defiance, that anger in your eyes. he'd last seen it when he first captured you. if looks could kill.

"open your mouth, espèce de petit diable," he commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience. "take my cock into your lying mouth and let it purify your wicked tongue." he pressed the swollen, throbbing head of his cock against your lips, rocking his hips to let his cock slide against your sealed mouth. his fingers tightened in your hair, yanking it harshly and when you cried out in pain, he slipped his cock inside your throat, giving you no space to breathe as he began to fuck your throat harshly. tears streamed down your cheek, your drool seeping down your chin as you stared at him with pure hatred in your eyes. he took note of the expression on your face and he snarled as he forced your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

"take the holy sacrament deep in your lying throat. let it purify your wicked soul." He held you there, buried to the hilt, as he ground his hips against your face, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. "god commands it," he panted, his voice filled with lust, "you cannot deny his will. you cannot refuse your sacred duty to serve his servant, to serve me."

you struggled to swallow all of his cum when he came, coughing and gagging uncontrollably, spluttering out his semen. you watched him tuck his cock back in his robes, grabbing your hair once more so that you could look at him, "let this be a reminder, mon cœur, i won't be so forgiving next time. no one sees you, no one other than leo and me." and with that, he stormed out of the room and locked the door. you laid on the ground with a hoarse throat, sobbing on the floor. was this the "lord's" method of punishing you for being a heretic? in what world was this supposed to make you love the holy father? your questions are silenced by the exhaustion that took over your body. your bitterness was only heightened when you noticed how leo was still fast asleep. the plump baby always slept without a care in the world after he had his dose of your milk. you wished you could sleep in peace like that.

it was a rule that after you misbehaved, you would have to seek forgiveness from the holy father. the only way to do this was to walk with charles down to the main altar very late at night when everyone was asleep. he took note of your busted lip from his abuse earlier in the day, running his thumb over your bottom lip as you winced in pain. he muttered a soft apology, kissing your forehead before taking leo from your arms. you needn't burden yourself so much, besides your only focus should be on being forgiven for your sins. while you moved forward to begin your prayer, father gasly had woken up from his sleep to grab some water when he saw charles holding a baby in his hands. he frowned, approaching the latter,

"father leclerc, whose child is that?" he asked, and charles was just about ready to punch his friend. having to explain himself out of this one would be quite difficult. charles glanced down at his son, taking note of his peaceful features. his little fingers were wrapped around charles' forefinger, and he smiled at the sight. it reminded him of the older man from earlier in the day, asking to bury his son. charles' felt the air in his lungs freeze for a split second, imagining if he would have to do the same for his little boy in the future. it was a thought that scared him. he never wanted to lose leo, he never wanted to lose you. he inhaled, sharply and looked up at father gasly,

"i saw this little boy at an orphanage. i didn't have the heart to leave him out there in the cold so i took him in. he's beautiful isn't he?" charles' cooed, kissing leo's nose.

in the meantime, you had gotten to your knees and clasped your hands together. no matter how many times charles taught you how to pray, it never was an easy task. not when you still refused to believe in the existence of a higher being. if such a god existed, why didn't he save you? why would he have let you be tormented like this? you stared at the cross, tears welling up in your eyes at how hopeless everything seemed. you casted your eyes downwards, remembering what charles had said to you months before when you were faced complications in your pregnancy. your eyes had to be hidden. no one should know about your existence. no one should recognize.

"and if in the case someone meets your eyes, and sees you as (y/n) (l/n) the whore who used to dance in festivals and preach hersey with her followers, i shall find a diamond-encrusted dagger and gouge your eyes out so that no one shall remember what you used to look like..." charles' words echoed in your ears. you shook as you pretended to pray, your head empty with silence surrounding you. you felt a presence besides you, and you turned to tell charles that you had finished your prayer when instead you faced max.

"he's finally let you out, what a surprise," he whispered. you snapped your head back to the cross, your breathing now rapid as you tried to calm yourself. he took note of the way your breasts - from the small glimpse he had under your cloak - rose and fell in quick successions. "schatje, i've told you before, you need not fear me. i won't do anything to you."

"i cannot risk it. i cannot bring attention to myself," you whispered, and max rolled his eyes,

"there's barely anyone awake at this hour. come, i know a good place." he held out his hand, standing up on his feet. you hesitantly accepted his offer, finding it strange that he was treating you so kindly. he was asking, rather than demanding. you knew following max into the confession booth would land you in much more trouble tonight, but sat down besides you with a very soft look in those blue eyes. "here, you can tell me anything, schatje. how did you end up here? who is your child's father? whatever you wish to tell me you can."

perhaps it was out of desperation to finally have someone to properly talk to, but you revealed everything to max. you told him about your previous life, you told him how charles was obsessed with you, how he fucked a prostitute dreaming about you and how he burned your house down when your parents were away, kidnapping you and storing you away in the top of the cathedral in that hidden room to teach you the bible. you told him of your baby leo, how he had your eyes. you cared for the baby, but you could never bring yourself to love him. you sighed out loud after finishing your tale, staring at max as you waited for his reaction. he merely licked his lips, leaning his head back on the wall of the booth as he processed your tale.

"so the baby... is charles'. i knew the bastard wasn't pure," he chuckled, dryly. your face fell, having expected him to say something else. you were oblivious to their rivalry, already caught up in your own misfortunes. max tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, "ah, my poor lady, you have gone through so much. what all did he teach you?"

"he used to read the-" you stopped when you saw max shake his head,

"no, no, not about the bible. what did he teach you in bed?" he pried your lips open with his thumb, letting your mouth envelop around his digit as you began to suck. "such a good little slut, fuck... i can see why he chose you. i have to give it to him."

"for christ's sake, pierre," charles snapped out of the formality he usually gave his friend, "pierre, snap out of it. the baby was abandoned, no more questions out of you." he was still stuck up in the cell of father gasly, rolling his eyes at the millionth question he had to answer.

"oh come on, charles," pierre scoffed, dropping his act of formality as well, "it's a cute baby. what awful creature would leave this baby to die?" he turned to face the infant, peppering his little face with kisses before pressing his cheek against his own, "can i keep the baby, charles? he's so cute."

"he's not a dog, pierre. he's my-" charles paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "he's an infant."

"an infant abandoned so close to christmas! and he has come to our church! is this a sign from the lord?" pierre asked, and charles' shoulders sagged. he ran his hands over his face,

"pierre, give the infant back to me. i assure you, it's..." charles paused, picking up max's voice from the distance, "is that father verstappen?"

"possibly, i've been told he likes walking around churches at night since the lord has a different ambience then... isn't that right, leo?" pierre cooed, nuzzling his nose against the baby's face. the infant merely giggled in response, trying to grab onto the chaplain's nose. charles bit his lower lip, the realization of having left you alone at the altar crossing his mind. he smacked his hand on his forehead, hurrying out of the cell.

"wait, the baby!" pierre called out, and charles shook his head,

"you can take care of leo for the night," and he hurried down the hallway, grabbing a candle. his fingers looped through the hole of its holder, and he stormed around the dark cathedral, spinning in circles to see where you could've gone. you weren't in front of the cross, you weren't in the aisles. he stopped for a moment, hearing the squelching of juices coming from the confession booth. he could see a small candle through the holes, the shadows of two bodies dancing together like the flames before him. charles' heart sank for a moment, praying that it wasn't you. it shouldn't be you. you were his, only his. he swung open the door to the confessional, and saw a sight that burned his eyes.

max had the top of your dress bunched down to your waist, his lips wrapped around your nipple, drinking your lavish milk while your greedy cunt sucked his fingers. your head thrown back as you let out soft moans, bucking into his hand as his palm rubbed against your clit. max released your tit with a pop, licking his lips as beads of your milk dribbled down his chin and he brought his mouth to kiss your jaw. he was grinning like a madman, eyes snapping to face charles' anguished expression and he picked up his pace, curling his fingers inside you, scissoring your poor cunt as you let out strangled moans, trying to be quiet. you squirted all over max's fingers, your juices coating the walls of the confessional, breathing heavy.

"the dove's quite the slut, father leclerc," max snorted, "so beautiful and perfect. she'd be my personal whore if i took her with me back to rome," he smiled, licking his fingers and sucking on them to relish your taste. "oh schat, you taste amazing."

"get the fuck out of here," charles hissed, jerking his thumb to the side. max slid you off his lap, standing up and straightening his robe. he pushed past charles, placing his cane at charles' neck,

"she told me everything. you're lucky you're loved so deeply by this church, or i would've convinced them to throw you out a long time ago," he threatened, letting the edge of the cane dig into charles' chest. the sharp pain made him grit his teeth, and when max left to return to his special quarters, charles' dark eyes slowly turned to you. you were shaking in the corner of the confessional, hooking the sleeves of your dress back up your shoulder as you got to your knees,

"charles please, i didn't mean it... it just happened so suddenly, i don't know how to-" a sharp sting bloomed on your cheek as your head snapped to the side. charles' shook his hand, the crack of his lap even hurting him. he looked at you with such disgust,

"i should've known... the devil hasn't left you, has she? she's stored in your heart, n'est-ce pas vrai putain?" he pressed his finger against the scar on your chest, forcing you back up against the wall. his hand shot out to grab your throat, dragging you out of the confessional and onto the aisle. your head hit against the wooden furniture, your temples throbbing in pain as you felt him bunch up the skirt to your dress. without much preparation, he thrusted himself in you in one-go, clamping your mouth shut to silence your screams. he did not care if he was defiling you right in front of the holy cross. this would be a mistake you'd never make ever again. he was your rightful owner, not max. his fingers dug into your hips, hips snapping against yours as he continued to drill his cock into your overstimulated cunt your previous orgasm had still left you in a daze because of max's skilled fingers, and now with charles' cock ravaging you, you were crying and begging for him to have mercy on you. your tits were leaking with milk, your body unable to control the sensations you were feeling. charles' hands groped your tits, squeezing your milk out for his tongue to catch and soon he flipped you onto your stomach, bringing his cock right back into your spent pussy. your gummy walls tightened around him, trying to push him out but it only motivated him to drive further into you. he grabbed your hair, yanking your head to face him as your back arched.

"why can't you see it?" charles hissed, slapping your ass firmly, "why can you never understand? you belong to me! only me! you're mine!" and with each thrust of his hips, his hold on you was loosening. you were sobbing onto the carpeted floors of the cathedral, burying your face in your arms as his cock stretched your unwilling walls into oblivion. "how many times do i have to prove myself to you?"

charles' dropped his head down to the back of your neck, his weight pushed onto you as he continued to snap his hips relentlessly. you could feel tears on your back. charles' tears. "why can't you understand?" he whimpered, wrapping your throat with his hand as he brought you closer to him, "will nothing i do satisfy you? what more should i do?"

his words didn't make sense to you, and you couldn't follow along with what he was getting at. not when he was destroying your poor cunt like this. he pulled out of you just shortly after you silently screamed, cumming around his cock and instead flipped you onto your back so that you could face him. his cock was still achingly hard, the tip all red and angry, waiting to cum. a needy moan escaped his lips, his hands fighting the urge to finish himself off, to let his cum coat your skin. but he was denying himself. instead, he glanced down at you as began to sob,

"you know how much i love you?" he whispered, and your eyes widened, realizing that he had finally said the words you knew he would never feel, "my love for you... i love you... i love you so much. why can't you...." he took in a shaky breath, standing up and confining his cock inside his robes, "i love you so much. i just want to be with you, to be loved by you. i love you so much, why can you never see it?"

since charles' confessions, he distanced himself away from you as much as he could. he'd give sermons and return to his cell. the door to your room was permanently unlocked, giving you access to roam around the cathedral as much as you pleased. it was a stark difference from the man you once knew, and you didn't know if he finally cleared his soul, or if this was a storm brewing. father gasly took care of leo so often that you felt free from the confines of being a mother. charles' would escort you to pierre's cell, insisting that a proper woman could only take care of a child even though the both of you knew it was just so that your son still remembered who his mother was. you'd walk the hallways of the cathedral at night, admiring the various statues and glass panels up close, taking note of its details. charles would stand in a corner, never once meeting your eyes. the thought of even touching you made his skin crawl. his chest always felt heavy, a newfound burden taking a toll on his body with each step that he took around the cathedral. the light on the holy cross no longer dimmed when he stood before it, instead it shined brighter. a chance for redemption, but he did not know how to gain your forgiveness. everything that he had done to you finally freed his clouded thoughts; he was a monster. he was the very devil he had claimed to have seen in you. his lust brought his own ruins, he felt ill every time he gave a sermon about avoiding all sins. he'd whimper in his sleep, feeling like a kicked puppy as he replayed the nights where he'd keep you awake to satisfy his carnal urges. he'd wake up more frequently at night, crying to himself at how unfit he was to be a chapter priest. he should be publicly stoned to death for what he had done. he always felt more than he should, father bozzi always told him that. it surely didn't help his emotions when he saw bishop verstappen talking with you more frequently in the darkness of the night. you were opening up to him more often, actually smiling and enjoying his presence, in a way that you never did with charles. he deserved it, rightfully so. he'd shuffle back to his cell, taking leo into his arms from father gasly and would hum some small lullabies to usher the infant back to sleep. he could not stare at the statue of virgin mary anymore, could not stand to see the imagery of the weeping virgin. he brought this upon you. it was all his fault. he had to make it up to you, but he just didn't know how exactly.

bishop verstappen had slipped a piece of paper to charles to watch out for something important later in the day, a special early christmas present for the chapter priest. it was the morning of christmas eve, most of the people were getting ready to settle with their family for the night. the church had been fully decorated, the bell ringers coming with big wide smiles on their faces as they ran to and fro, getting small gifts from the archdeacon for their work throughout the year. charles had let the church discover leo's existence the night before, letting each of the divisions of priests fawn over his "adopted" son as they put it.

"commendable charity work," father sainz smiled, "you really know how to represent what christmas is really about." and charles smiled, thinly.

you had followed bishop verstappen into the streets of your village. the bright light so foreign to you after so long. you brought your cloak over your face, watching the small children run around. some of the faces you recognized as your neighbors' children, the very ones you'd laugh and play with after you finished your work at your stall. you smiled warmly at the memories, laughing as they nearly bumped into you in excitement for some magic show happening around the corner. the sounds of families giggling and embracing each other on the streets made you miss your own parents. you had to know what happened to them. what would they think if they saw their daughter well and alive. and your friends! frederick, oscar, all of them! you knew they must've missed you. you turned to max, grinning at him as you held onto his hand,

"i want to see my parents. they have to be here." but you failed to see the way his arm recoiled at your touch, the way he stared at you as if he had something far sinister in his mind. he merely pulled off the hood of your clock and with an accusatory finger, shouted at your face,

"the witch! she's a witch! she's back from the dead!"

charles had been on the second floor of the cathedral, pressing the keys to the organ to entertain his son who looked at the instrument in awe. he nearly missed the yelling downstairs if he hadn't stopped toying with the organ. he glanced down to the main altar to find bishop verstappen waiting downstairs with his hands behind his back, a grin on his face. charles could feel that something was wrong, but nevertheless, he approached his enemy.

"what's going on outside? a commotion?" charles' inquired, patting leo's back as he bounced the infant in his arms a couple of times. he took note of the crowd outside the gates to the cathedral and he furrowed his brows, moving to investigate before max grasped onto his shoulder.

"you're free from the devil, father leclerc." max smiled and charles scowled,

"what do you mean?"

"you have such an esteemed reputation at this church," max scoffed, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of charles, "we wouldn't want to ruin it. no one knows about this child, you can't keep the truth hidden forever. so you get rid of the truth."

"i... i'm not following along, what?"

"for fuck's sake," max groaned, shaking his head, "i accused her of being a witch, of coming back from the dead. she'll be burned at the stake later today, and you can thank me for it. all your guilt, all your lustful thoughts, all of it will be gone if she's gone. perfect, is it not? i would've kept her as my personal slut like i said earlier, but there's bound to be a million other women like her."

"are you insane?" charles yelled, startling leo who began to cry, "who asked of this from you? she... she trusted you!" he gulped, thinking about how you must've felt at this moment. putting your trust into a man after he had ruined everything for you, only for this cunt to betray you so openly in front of everyone. charles' anger knew no bounds and he shoved max to the side, storming out of the church to see the sight of you on a stick, hoisted into the air. your head hung low, bruises all over your body after being being stoned and flogged accordingly to your crime. charles' gasped out loud, pushing past the crowd to see them bring you over to the pile of hay in the center of the town square, ready to set fate. he watched the other priests, ones that he knew so well, cheer on for this heretic's damnation. leo cried louder, the screams hurting his ears and charles shielded his son into his chest, and with anxious eyes faced you. with what little strength you had left in you, you glanced up to the sky with tears cascading down your cheeks, blood spilling out of the inside of your mouth and there he saw it.

no longer was the weeping virgin just a flicker of his imagination or a sight meant to fool him, she was there right before him. he could see your tears as the holy water he used in his sermons, the glow around your head ready to accept your fate. no, he couldn't do this. after everything that he had put you through, he had to redeem himself. charles would never forgive himself if he stood to the side and let everyone take advantage of you, not to the virgin mary that he worshipped every day and night.

"enough with this foolishness!" charles' bellowed, stepping onto the pile of hay as he glanced down at the crowd surrounding you. "all of you stop this nonsense!"

he took in a deep breath, waiting for each idiot to silence themselves to let him speak. "enough... what are you all doing?"

"she's a heretic!" one man cried out.

"she's come back from the dead!" another hollered.

"a witch, a witch!" the crowd chanted in unison, and charles stomped his foot and screamed,

"silence!" he took in a deep breath, glancing down to see leo staring at him with wide eyes. he always had your eyes. he gulped, tilting his head back up to face the crowd once more, "today is christmas eve. tomorrow is christmas morning. you want to mark this holy tradition with the killing of a woman? is this what our holy father has taught us?"

he watched the crowd shift awkwardly and he continued, "she has progressed much in her religious journey. she is not back from the dead. she was actually... learning the glories of our savior. listen to me, all of you, put aside your fears. she will not... she won't hurt any of us."

"then what do you expect us to do with her? she's not welcome in this village," charles' stared at the man who said this; it was your own father. he sucked his teeth in, shaking his head and sighing loudly,

"we send her to exile. she stays alive, but she shall never step foot in this village ever again." charles' declared, and despite the crowd coming to agreeance, he glanced to see you staring at him with a look of horror in your eyes. he gulped, turning his back to you as he held onto leo, hoping that the holy father would commend him for saving your life.

the wagon sat outside the back of the cathedral. it was snowing outside, too cold for leo but he had his son bundled up in the finest fabric to ensure his little toes wouldn't get frostbite. he stared at the cross from behind him. something felt... empty inside his heart. he had saved your life, but the thought of sending you to exile. it was all his fault, all of it was his fault. and no matter how long he stayed at this church, no amount of penance could save his damned soul for what he had done to you. he watched you seat yourself on the wagon, face all bruised as you weakly smiled at him.

"thank you, charles... for what you did back there." you whispered, groaning in pain as you shifted in your seat. you saw the pained expression in his eyes, and you cupped his cheek, letting him feel the warmth of you skin. "what you did charles, that was real love."

he fell to his knees at your words, tears pricking at his eyes, "no... no, don't say that. i've done awful things to you. i've been a horrible person. my lust clouded my thoughts, i... i really love you. i can't bear the thought... of... no, i can't let you leave me." he grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it to his forehead as he sobbed. his cheeks flushed into a rosy shade of red as he glanced up at you, "t-take me with you. i can't... i can't live here. not after what i've done. i'll come up with you. we can live together in a small hut, we can just be by ourselves and i'll make it up to you, i swear i will, just give me one more chance mon ange-"

"no, charles," you snapped, "no... i deserve to be free. i deserve to have the life i wanted. and as for leo..." you stretched your arms out, ready to take your infant but charles shook his head,

"i refuse. i refuse to let you go, i refuse to let you take away my son. i love both of you. just say you forgive me, say you'll take me with you."

you sighed out loud, groaning under your breath as you felt a sharp pang of pain course through your veins. you bit your lip, "i think we can come to a compromise then."

your wagon departed with your belongings. you never once looked back at charles as you left. you had said what he wanted to hear: "i forgive you. a life for a life. your debt is paid." but it wasn't enough for him. you left leo to his care, knowing that despite how he had treated you, he would never commit horrors to his child. charles could learn to properly love. you knew he had it in him. his heart was always large, always taken by emotions.

he felt too strongly. it was his curse.

he took leo back into the church, and set him down on the table right before the holy cross. he glanced up to see the holy spirit shine before him, wiping away his tears. there was still a long road for him back to salvation, but he promised that he would attain it. he would make up for all the sins that he had committed. he would spend the rest of his life craving for the love that he felt for you. if only you had stayed. the longer that he served for the church, he realized that he was wrong all along. the holy father could not save his soul no matter how hard he tried. all the countless sermons, the masses, the christmas and easter holidays, the verses from the bibles, the holy crosses, the tears from the weeping virgin, all of it was in vain.

because you were his religion.

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traveler-at-heart · 3 months ago

Text

Doctor's In - Part 20

Summary: Will Wanda get to propose first?

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the last chapter I'll be posting before a little break. I'm low on ideas for this little world, but I definitely don't rule out coming back to it in the future.

Big thanks to @esposadejoyhuerta because I posted the very first part as a little fic for her. To @a-cat-on-titan for sharing ideas that inspired me and to everyone that read and commented. I honestly think I managed to write so much because you all liked this series so much.

Everyone at Stark Hospital seems to be cheerful after the wedding. There’s still talk about who wore what, how amazing the food was and how lucky Carol and Maria got as nothing interrupted their day.

You’d appreciate the atmosphere. Except it’s Sunday. And still a day off for you, with the kids staying over at the Barton farm for the rest of the long weekend.

And yet, Kate paged you over one single case.

“I’m really sorry, they asked for an adult”

“Kate, you are an adult”

You’re in the break room, putting a lab coat over your clothes as you don’t plan on staying longer than necessary. Yelena’s sitting in the couch, scrolling down her phone.

“An older one. Not that you’re old” she hurries to say as she walks beside you. You can hear Yelena chuckling.

“Hey, you could have helped your girlfriend. Or did I teach you nothing, Belova?”

“Well, I…”

“We…”

They both blush at the term girlfriend and you almost want to laugh. But you need at least one competent doctor to assist you, so you sigh, pulling Kate along.

“Hello, I’m doctor Y/L/N” you greet a young woman with a baby. “Doctor Bishop told me you requested a specialist”

“I’m really sorry” the woman says, bags under her eyes. The baby whines a bit as she sways them. “I’m just very worried and I want to make sure nothing’s wrong with him”

“What’s his name? And yours?” you ask calmly, as you try to examine him. You pretend to hide and watch as he follows you with his eyes. A nice way to get him comfortable and check if he’s ok.

“His name is Chuck. And I’m Ana”

“Alright, Ana, tell me what happened” you ask, allowing her to sit.

Something very common, the baby rolled over and fell from the bed. After crying, he fell back asleep but is now moody, taking longer naps and refusing to eat.

“He has a fever” Kate mentions as you examine him, making sure there are no broken bones or any other visible injuries.

“Has he been sick lately? Flu or anything of the sort?” you check his eyes with a light and he complains.

“Yes, a week or so ago. But he was better already. Oh, he also threw up this morning” the woman says, her voice shaking. She’s looking anxiously as you keep examining everything.

“Everything looks fine in his physical exam. Just a small aversion to light, but no broken bones or discomfort in his abdomen. But we should really do a CT scan just to rule out anything else. Would you be ok with that?”

“Yes, anything he needs”

“Doctor Bishop, let’s give him some ibuprofen for that fever and once he settles we can do the scan”

As you walk up to inform the technician, you run into Darcy.

“I thought you had a day off”

“Right back at you”

“Bishop paged me. What’s your excuse?”

“Oh, nothing…” Darcy looks away, but you catch her peaking around the ER.

“Oh, my God! You’re here to see Bucky!”

“Wanna shout it louder? I think even the dead bodies at the morgue heard you” she hits your side while you laugh.

“I knew you liked him back!”

“Shut up, lesbian”

You’re ready to keep arguing when someone clears their throat. You both turn, finding Bucky swaying back and forth.

“I was wondering if you…” he’s looking at Darcy, but then panicks, turning to you. “You need any help with that patient”

“I’m good. Darcy, do you need help with anything?”

The brunette glares at you, but turns to Bucky a second later.

“I’m good”

“Yeah. Ok” he nods, walking away.

“You scared him!”

“I just stood here! Didn’t even say anything” she protests.

“Yeah but all these months you kept talking about how you hated him and now he’s not sure you actually like him. Help him out”

“Don’t you have anything else to do?”

“Yes, I’m cooking dinner for Wanda”

“Proposing at last?”

“No” you clear your throat. “I don’t think”

“I’m kidding” Darcy says, remembering Wanda has everything ready. “You’re not seriously thinking about it, right?”

“Maybe. Look, we have the house to ourselves, I’m making dinner. If the conversation goes that way… I already have the ring. If not, that’s fine”

“Well… crap. I gotta go” someone pages Darcy. “Will you maybe consider hitting pause on that proposal?”

“You’ve been nagging me for weeks to do it”

“Yeah, well… I’m just making sure you’re not doing it because you’re too emotional from Carol’s weddding” Darcy lies. She hates getting involved and now she’ll have to let Wanda know you’re planning on doing this.

“Gotta go, they’re ready for the scan” you smile, thinking Darcy’s just concerned over you.

When you go back to the baby, you notice his mother is still struggling to get him to sleep. Since the scan won’t take more than a minute, you don’t want to sedate him or anything else.

“May I?”

“Yes, of course. It’s really hard to get him to na…”

A minute after he’s in your arms, the baby is fast asleep.

“Can you teach me that?” the woman says and you laugh.

“Sure can”

As Maria is not around, you decide to ask Tony for his input. He’s been cold towards you since you came back, and you know it’s an issue with his ego more than anything. Still, you try to play nice.

“Ten month old?” he checks the scan. “No bleeding or skull fracture. All good”

“Great, thanks Doctor Stark”

“Very formal. Are we not friends anymore?”

“You tell me”

“Well, don’t work with the enemy again and we’re all good” he winks at you.

Luckily, you’re able to discharge the baby, happy that it’s nothing serious. You’re about to say goodbye to Darcy when you notice she’s approaching Bucky.

“I like Italian food” she says without preamble. “So, if you want to go ask me out, that’s a good choice”

“Oh. Ok. How about tomorrow?”

“Fine. You’re buying” Darcy adjusts her glasses, leaving before Bucky can say anything else.

Well, hopefully that’s a start.

—

Wanda is pacing around the living room. It’s not just that you’re all alone in the kitchen making dinner for her. It’s Darcy’s call.

“She might propose tonight”

“What do you mean?” Wanda said.

“Well, she said she’d see where the night took her…”

“I have to distract her”

“How?”

“Boobs”

“I regret asking. Bye” Darcy hung up, while Wanda changed into a lighter shirt and threw away her bra.

It was a sweet gesture. But Wanda really wanted to be the one proposing first.

So what if she was competitive over this? It’s silly. You’d laugh it off.

Either way, she can’t let you do it, not tonight.

“Ok, food’s ready” you announce with a smile.

Since it’s a bit warmer, you decide to have dinner in the backyard, enjoying the weather and the nice lights.

“Everything ok at work?” she asks as you serve some lasagna and pour her wine.

“Yeah. Just a nervous mom that wanted reassurance. I don’t mind it, though. Can’t imagine how scary it must be to take your child to the ER” you smile at your girlfriend, observing her reaction to the food.

“It’s good” she nods and you tilt your head, knowing there’s more. Wanda rolls her eyes. “It’s good. That’s it”

“Fine”

“It’s too cheesy. But that’s just a personal preference” she says once you stop staring and you laugh.

“I like cheesy”

“I know, detka” Wanda reaches for your hand.

You keep talking about work, Wanda’s book release on Friday (thank God you have no idea it’s actually not related to the book at all), and you tell Wanda all about Darcy and Bucky’s date.

“Unlikely pair, those two” she marvels, laughing.

“I’ll say. You done? I’ll load the dishwasher considering your mom’s not around to curse at it”

“Yeah, but hurry back. Let’s stay out a little longer” she kisses you softly and you love how the taste of wine lingers on her lips.

When you’re done cleaning and go back out, the ring box is in your front pocket. The sight of Wanda sitting in the patio swing while she browses through a picture book takes your breath away.

Her hair is down, the fading light of day reflecting on her; you can tell she’s a bit cold, wearing nothing but a light shirt. You approach with a blanket, watching curiously at the pages.

“I promised I’d tell you about the twins” she reminds you, and you sit next to her, covering your laps with the blanket.

You’re moved by the pictures of the kids you love so much, admiring how small they once were. It’s also amazing how much Pietro resembles his father. Now more than ever you wish you could have been there to meet him and be with Wanda.

“Dad was with me the day they were born. Pietro had a college event, being on a sports scholarship and everything. Mom went with him to make sure he kept focused instead of flirting away”

“Mama Maximoff, professional cockblocker” you mumble, getting elbowed by Wanda. “Ok, go on”

“So I started feeling weird but thought it was nothing. My dad insisted we go to the ER. And sure enough, he was right. Mama and Pietro had just boarded their flight so we couldn’t contact them until they landed. And then it all happened so fast, so my dad went in and held Billy and Tommy before anyone else”

“You’re so brave, Wands. I could never do it alone. I’ve seen how hard it is, not just giving birth, it changes your life completely. And yet you did it, while being so patient and loving and a wonderful mother” you say, going through photos of the kids.

Birthdays, first days of school, Halloween.

“I always had my family. And now I have you too. We make a good team, detka” Wanda leans against you, showing you some of the last pages of the album. There are pictures of you and the kids, with Sparky or playing soccer.

You reach for the ring box, getting ready to say those words, but Wanda jumps on your lap, looking suddenly flustered.

“You’re so hot” she says, taking your hands and placing them on her breasts. Your eyes widen when you notice she’s not wearing a bra.

“I… uh” you stutter, trying to remember that you were proposing.

“We didn’t have dessert, detka”

“No, I guess not… oh, god” you sigh when she leans forward, biting down your earlobe.

“I have something really sweet for you” Wanda teases and your brain stops functioning. The only thing you can think about is her, naked and screaming your name.

“Well, good thing I’m starving”

Wanda laughs, but it turns into a moan when you lift her shirt and suck on one of her nipples.

Pretty soon you both forget about rings and proposals.

—

It was all so strange. You didn’t drink that much wine.

But when you wake up, alone and disoriented, it feels like you had a whole bottle of the cheapest alcohol to yourself.

“Hey, you’re up” Wanda says, too cheerful for your liking.

“Hey. Isn’t it early? And didn’t we fuck like animals until early morning” you joke, making her blush.

“Yes, detka” she leans forward, kissing you. “But Pietro stopped by for breakfast. And I have laundry to do, plus the kids are coming back today after lunch”

“And I have work tonight” you yawn. As you get up, stretching your arms, Wanda’s eyes linger and you smile. “Wanna have round… seven? I don’t know, I lost count”

“Would love to, but like I said, Pietro’s downstairs”

“Even better” you pull Wanda by the waist, smiling. “I get to make you come and scar him. Win-win”

“Evil” she laughs, pecking your lips.

As you get ready to go downstairs, there’s something in the back of your mind that’s bothering you.

Something you had or were supposed to do?

“Fuck” you remember when you can’t find your jeans.

The ring.

If Wanda’s doing laundry…

Did she find it?

“Morning” Pietro says when you go downstairs, looking worried. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, man. Cool. Never better. Hey, Wands? Did you find anything in my jeans before throwing them in the washing machine?”

“No, detka” she lies.

“You sure”

“Yeah”

Again, total bullshit.

“Uh.. ok”

Maybe the ring was somewhere else, considering you were both in a rush to get naked.

“Gotta take out Sparky. Be right back”

Pietro waits until you’re gone to ask.

“What was that about?”

“I hid her engagement ring. The one she was going to propose with, I mean”

“But, why?”

“Because” Wanda sips from her cup of tea, hoping Pietro gives up. Except he’s still waiting for an answer and she sighs. “Because I want to propose first!”

“Wow” he laughs, knowing his sister is super competitive. “And yet I’m the evil twin”

—

It’s a bad day to have a busy ER. You’re freaking out about the lost ring but you barely had time to look without making Wanda suspicious.

What if Sparky ate it?

“Everything ok?” Kamala asks when you’re checking over a patient.

“Yeah, fine”

“It’s just, your stethoscope is backwards” she points out and you curse under your breath. Once you’re done with the proper examination, you follow Kamala to the cafeteria.

“Hey, would you be able to do me a favor?” you say.

“Yeah, sure”

“Can we get an X-ray of Sparky?”

“Sparky… is that the man you were examining?” she says, confused.

“No, that’s our dog. I’m trying to figure out if he ate the engagement ring I lost”

“Engagement? Congratulations!” Kamala says, completely forgetting the part about how you lost the ring.

“So, can you help me?”

“Uh… sure. I mean, we need to sneak him in and I…”

“Perfect, I’ll page you when he’s here” you say, going back to work. Maybe you’ll have to ask Pietro’s help, but so be it. You’re so busy dialing his number that you don’t hear someone shout a warning until it’s too late.

The last thing you see before passing out is a stretcher rolling down your way.

—

Pain.

The only pain I want in my life is pain au chocolat.

That makes you laugh.

“Hey, pal. You awake?”

“Darcy?” you open your eyes, feeling like throwing up. “What the fuck happened?”

“So, one of the new paramedics didn’t lock the empty stretcher and it rolled down all the way to you” she explains.

“Fucking moron” you try to sit up, but your sides hurt. “Anything broken?”

“Nope, just a concussion and bruised ribs” she says, and as you open your eyes again, you notice her outfit.

“Were you out on a date?”

“Yes, and it was terrible. We have nothing to talk about when we’re not fighting” she complains.

Honestly, right now you’re struggling to form a coherent thought, so nothing comes to mind to help your friend.

“Detka, you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Wanda joins a moment later and you smile lazily at her.

“Mkay, could use some cuddles”

“Right, I’m out” Darcy complains and you laugh.

“Wait, Darcy. I need your help” you mumble, half asleep and forgetting Wanda’s there. “Find if Sparky ate the ring. Or I’ll have to propose with nothing”

Darcy gives Wanda a strange look, and your girlfriend gestures for her to join her outside.

“I hid the ring”

“Why?!”

“Because she was proposing”

“What happened to just using your boobs?” Darcy points at Wanda’s chest.

“Well, that was part of the plan but I still have four more days to go before she tries again! There's only so much my boobs can do”

“Lucky for you, this little incident gave you some time. She’ll be out of it for another day” Darcy comments, watching as you snore loudly. “Or maybe two”

—

It’s become a whole thing, the stretcher incident. Fury had to organize a staff meeting about safety and how to prevent stupid accidents.

Even if it wasn’t your fault, you feel like an idiot. The idiot that got a concussion from a stretcher that wasn’t even going that fast.

At least you get a day off, and you’re making the most of it, waking up later than usual. You’re busy answering to Darcy’s memes about your unfortunate accident when Wanda walks in, smiling.

“How are you feeling, detka?”

“Like a total loser”

“Aww, come on. I bet some cuddles will make it better” she says, laying next to you in bed. You let her settle with your arm as pillow, feeling her delicate hands lift your shirt. “How is the bruising?”

“It’s fine. Just have to avoid breathing too hard” you try to joke, but notice her frown. Kissing her temple, you wait until she looks up at you. “Hey, I’m fine. It was a stupid thing that happened”

“I know, but… sometimes your job is dangerous. I guess I always worry” she sighs, hiding her face in your chest. You kiss her again, smiling.

“I won’t say no to you kissing it better” you tease, feeling happy when she straddles your lap. Except one second later you’re breathing too hard and your side hurts. “Ok, maybe for now let’s just watch tv”

—

Word spreads fast. Not even when you almost died trying to help other people did you get so many pats on the back.

Hell, you almost drowned once. But apparently a stretcher can hit anyone, so you have the entire hospital's sympathy.

“Hey, careful, a stretcher!” Darcy shouts the minute she sees you. You yelp, turning around to find the hallway empty.

“Fuck you, Lewis”

“Shouldn’t you be at Wanda’s party or something tonight?” she says after she’s done laughing.

“Yeah, I have a change of clothes. Don’t think I’ll need much more for a small bookstore downtown” you say, confused.

Before leaving for work Wanda had also reminded you to be there on time, insisting you didn’t have to pick the kids up or anything like that.

“Are you showering? Doing your hair? Makeup?”

“Do I smell?” you say, pulling your scrubs to your nose. Why does she care so damn much?

“Oh, my God. Just because you’re in a relationship you shouldn’t let yourself go! Now I have to fix this too” she begins to rant, dragging you to the break room.

Pretty soon, Kamala and Kate stop by to help with your hair and makeup.

“What is going on? Don’t you have work to do? Kate, who’s working the ER?”

“I have Barnes on it” Darcy answers and you smirk at her. “What?”

“So, are you still trying to date or not?”

“We found some middle ground to talk” she says cryptically.

“Which is…”

“Lord of the Rings”

“Oh my God! Is he a huge nerd like you? I was so not expecting that!” you laugh, kicking your feet when you notice her blushing.

“Laugh all you want! Turns out he is a nerd and has perfect hair and blue eyes and abs which means I’ll just have to date him. I hate you. And before you say anything, shut your mouth because I’m applying lipstick”

You know Darcy doesn’t like to talk about feelings. And she’s had the same amount of luck in relationships that you have. So, you keep your thoughts to yourself, but when you look in her eyes, her expression softens and she smiles back.

“You look good, pal”

“Thanks”

“Am I interrupting treat your self time?” Fury says when he walks in on all of you.

“Sir, I would have invited you but we’re braiding each other’s hairs and well, you…” Darcy trails off, and you smack her in the arm.

“You’re talking to your boss”

“Just get back to work” Fury says, smiling.

Well, Darcy’s always getting away with shit.

For the rest of the evening, she circles around the ER, but you think it’s because she wants to be around Bucky.

Except when it’s exactly 8 and she sprints towards you.

“Time to go”

“I have some charts to…”

“I wasn’t asking. Bishop will do it. Get changed, chop chop”

Darcy walks you to your car, and you roll your eyes as you get in. The car won’t start, though.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Y/N” she threatens as if it’s your fault that it’s not working.

“Be my guest! Battery’s dead, Darcy. Why are you being so damn weird today?”

Still, the car won’t start when she tries, but she doesn’t give you time to say “I told you so”.

“I’ll call a cab. Or ask Wanda to pick me up” you say, thinking it won’t be a big deal if you’re a few minutes late.

“Damn it, I can’t push my surgery again” she mutters, checking her pager. Your friend looks around the parking lot, eyes meeting the EMT from the other day. “Hey, you!”

The man tries to hide in the ambulance, but Darcy’s quick to catch him.

“My friend’s gonna be late for a very important thing. Why don’t you drive her there?”

“I can’t use an ambulance as an Uber, are you mad?”

“It’s either that or I run you over with a stretcher as payback, how about that?” Darcy says, nodding when he stays quiet. “Thought so. Now, you get in. And you, better turn those sirens way up”

“You’re acting very strangely, Lewis. I’ll tell Bucky to keep an eye on you” you say when she pushes you inside.

The ride is incredibly awkward, especially when the guy does turn on the sirens. You wait until you’re out of the hospital’s parking lot to turn them off.

“Just let me out and I’ll take a taxi, man”

“No way, your friend scares me too much. Plus, I really am sorry for almost killing you the other day”

“You hardly did that. Trust me, I’ve been through worse” you smile at him.

Admittedly, you do arrive faster when it’s in an ambulance, and you thank him before getting off. To your surprise, Wanda’s at the door of the bookstore, looking around the sidewalk nervously.

“Y/N? Why are you in an ambulance? Are you ok?” she rushes to you, hands going over every inch of your body.

“Babe, I’m fine. My car wouldn’t start and Darcy was being weird about this, saying I couldn’t be late and all… I hope I’m right on time, though it looks empty. I didn’t get the time wrong, did I?”

“No, it’s fine” she smiles, standing on her toes to peck your lips. “Come on”

The place is really small and cozy, and you look around, trying to figure out if anyone’s already there.

“I wanted to give you this” Wanda says. You take the small package and rip the wrapping paper, smiling.

“An English-Sokovian dictionary?”

“Figured it might be useful for when you’re working” she smiles and you want to thank her for the gift, but you can’t help but frown. “What’s wrong, detka?”

“I was hoping you’d help me translate. I guess this means you won’t be coming with me, huh?”

“No, that’s not what I meant… here” she takes your hand, making you sit on the floor. There are cushions and a carpet, all arranged for children to sit through a reading. You tilt your head when Wanda hands you a second gift.

“I feel awful. This is your party and I didn’t even bring flowers”

“It’s actually not… until tomorrow. You didn’t really think we’d host a reading for children right around bed time, did you?” Wanda chuckles and you nod.

“Right, but then…”

“Just open it. It will make sense, I promise”

You nod, discovering two books inside. Of them is the one releasing today -or technically, tomorrow-, the other one seems like a collection of illustrations.

Those are drawings of you and Wanda, some of them with you and the kids. Sparky’s there too. It’s everything, from your first dates, to soccer games and trips, including your time in Boston.

“Wanda, I love it. Thank you” you say, trying hard not to cry at all the love and dedication she poured into this. “And your new book, it’s so amazing as well…”

Wanda waits for you to read the dedication inside, and you smile wide when you spot your name.

“To the love of my life, Y/N. Thank you for showing me how special life can be when you share it with someone else” you read out loud, a tear rolling down your face. “Wow, I’ve never had someone dedicate a book to me before. I feel…”

“There’s one illustration I didn’t get to include, though” she says, taking your hand. You examine it, realising it’s from the bookstore where you are right now. The set up is the same, and you’re sitting next to Wanda, like you’re doing right now.

There’s a small text written at the bottom, though.

Ty vyydesh' za menya?

“Wait, that’s in Sokovian” you say, trying hard to figure out the words.

“Good thing you have a dictionary” Wanda teases and you sigh, opening the pages. “Why don’t you start with popular phrases?”

“Fine. Wish I knew I was getting homework assigned” you joke, frowning as you read over every phrase listed. Once you think you found it, you compare it to the one written in the drawing.

Once. Twice.

After the third time, you look up to see Wanda staring back at you. She’s holding a ring.

“Oh, my God!”

“Is that a yes?” she says, her heart beating out of her chest.

“Wanda, of course it is!” you move forward, hugging her until you’re both on the floor, laughing. “Is this why Darcy was acting strange, wanting me to be here on time?”

“Maybe” Wanda smiles, taking your hand and sliding the ring. You admire it, still finding it hard to believe she asked you to marry her. “It’s my mom’s engagement ring. Insisted we should have it”

“I love it” you say, smiling and wiping the tears that keep on coming. “And I love you”

“I love you too” Wanda says, smiling at you. You lean forward, kissing her and smiling against her lips. “I can’t believe I managed to propose first”

“Wait, what?”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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the-artist-grimm · 3 months ago

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Hi, so, um... just discovered this AU, and it's very cute! I love hurt/comfort/healing relationships (especially if said relationships eventually bloom into love), so I'm deeply invested now and can't wait to see more from you (already binge read the entire AU - lore, asks, art and all... I might have a problem). **cough, cough** Aaaannnyyway, that was just a really long winded way to say, I love this, I love your characterizations, and I love your work in general. If I could ask a question, what ended up happening to Anthea's gift/the courtship fleece after the betrayal arc? Did she ever end up giving it to Narinder (and if so, what was his reaction), or did she hide/burn it as it brought up too many old wounds? Apologies if this has been answered somewhere else before, but I didn't see it as I was binging earlier.

It got locked into the hope chest at the end of their bed! Anthea already had it stowed there with the intention of sneaking it into their bag before taking Narinder on a walk the day after he was freed, but when things didn't go to plan they just didn't have the heart to get rid of it. They hated looking at it, but also hated the idea of destroying it, since that'd kinda be like destroying what it had represented; their love, their commitment to him, their dreams of a future together. So it just stayed hidden for the first few months.

Yet as time passed and they slowly become friends again Anthea gradually began taking it out more and more, and suddenly doubting themself about it. It was a courtship sash, that's practically a proposal-what if it had been too presumptuous? What if it had been a mistake, seeing as them working on it was what caused Narinder to fear a betrayal? Such a little thing destroyed so much, yet they still couldn't bring themself to get rid of it.

But once the whole situation with the Bishops is said and done, Anthea decides that it's time to just get it over with. They and Narinder both approach each other with the intention of asking to speak about what happened, and they agree to meet at the fountain by the doors by nightfall. To which Anthea brings the sash, because they might as well show him just what that gift they'd been making was.

Then they just...talk. Narinder talks of his fear of another betrayal, his remorse for not saying anything when he doubted them, his regret in being so quick to judge alongside an apology for how things had happened that day, yet also his confusion of just what gift was so important that Anthea stopped talking to him as much and lied about the reasons why. Anthea talks about how they didn't consider how their actions appeared and apologizes for not explaining, says that they regretted not speaking to him after that final fight and letting things fester till the twins were revived, yet they also stop and admit that there's a reason why they were so caught up in their gift. Why they were so hurt.

They hesitate for a moment, then pull out the sash.

"I was making you a courtship sash. After you said you wished to leave the Gateway together...I had to make it. I've always just done what was best for everyone else...and yet...you were willing to stay trapped even in what I'd thought was the theoretical so long as I left with you. No one had ever been so...so selfless for my sake. And...I realized just how much I wanted that. I kept...having all these thoughts and ideas and fantasies of what a life with you could be, and before I knew it I was planning the sash. I'd never wanted anything like this before...and I needed something physical to reassure both you and myself that it was real."

Which for Narinder, at first it's this sudden swell of shock then elation-like he knows what that sash represents in sheep culture. Commitment and love, woven from the gifter's wool and crafted by hand in a process that takes weeks. To be gifted one is the most serious declarations of intent, and despite everything Narinder had never stopped being hopelessly in love with Anthea.

So he has this brief thought of 'They love me, they wanted to be with me, they love me-', then that heart-plummeting realization what that meant his betrayal had done. It re-contextualizes everything. Anthea's shock, their anger, their avoidance and their hesitation after the fact. Though he hadn't know, Anthea had been prepared to hold out their heart to him, and he'd crushed it. They'd for the first time stepped out of this mindset of hiding their feelings, their wants, their needs and tried to reach for something, and he'd burned them for that.

Narinder basically speedruns the seven stages of grief in the span of like 2 seconds, before deciding that well there went his shot and so be it. Though they're friends again and raising the kits together, whatever love Anthea had must be long gone after him basically giving them the equivalent of a rejection. Like yeah both sides know it was a misunderstanding now, but feelings surely could never survive or return after that. He goes 'Ah I see-' in this not sad way, but in this resigned acceptance, and anticipates that to be it.

But then Anthea starts getting nervous at his almost muted reaction and starts to slip a little. They were being very honest and basically implied their feelings without directly stating them, but they're now worried so they try to play off the sash as this silly, frivolous thing made in the heat of excitement because they think they've made him uncomfortable. That they overthought what he'd said, (see the Bishops Arc section of Anthea's Overview) and shouldn't have taken his words as seriously as they'd had.

"It was mostly intended as a thank you, really! I just let the fantasy of things get the best of me...a-and however you would've had me...that would have been more than enough...I...I know you wouldn't have wanted...that what I felt was... I know it wasn't the same."

And Narinder looks at them and suddenly sees a mirror of himself. Longing, uncertainty, anxiety, and...love. So much love that it hurts. They're playing it off, but a courtship sash isn't nothing. No one puts in all that time in just a 'thank you' gift, if it had been that there are plenty of other things Anthea could've made.

And he realizes there's something still there. Fragile and scared...but it's there, and he's not going to ignore it twice.

"What if it was?''

And Anthea stops spiraling. They look over, really look over, and notice how uncertain he is but also...there's a warmth there-a hope. A tenderness as on the ledge of the fountain he takes their hands and cradles them so, so carefully within his with a brief glance to the cloth folded in their lap.

"If...if you still had the chance...would you gift the sash now? And if not in this moment...c-could you one day?"

They'd seen him tear up once or twice back then, back when they were vessel and god-since then Anthea hadn't seen Narinder cry once, not even when the boys were revived. Not even when his siblings returned one by one. And yet here as he looks at them with a hesitant smile and tears in his eyes, they realize what he's left unspoken.

'Could you love me again?'

It's a confession. Unspoken and silent as theirs had been, but it's a confession.

And it's not the way they had dreamt it-they had planned to take him to their father's stargazing spot and do it there in a field of white flowers and starlight. But that doesn't matter as they all but throw themselves into his chest and hug him tight and bury their sobbing face into his neck.

It's relief and regret and more murmurs of apologies between them both, and it could be minutes or hours that they sit there together in the evening moonlight, but that last weight upon their chests is gone and everything is suddenly so much more clear. When the tears have stopped Anthea sits cuddled in Narinder's lap as they quietly hand him the sash and watch as he traces the different patterns and threads, and it should feel new or different but it just feels like this is what they've always done.

Then he asks them to help him tie the sash about his waist because he can't quite figure out how it goes with the stiffer cloth, and they can't help themselves and just kiss him.

---

(This question is from December dear GODS. Sorry for the wait!!!!)

#rip grimm slowly working through OLD asks #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #crimson angel au #anthea #narilamb #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narilamb #ask #my writing #my art

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queerism1933 · 7 days ago

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Protect our trans kids

Why the fuck would a rapist pretend to be trans in a world that already bends over backwards to protect rapists? You ever see how this society treats rape? They laugh about it in movies. They call victims crazy. They ask what she was wearing. They send rapists home with probation and a pat on the back. That shit is routine. Look at Brock Turner. Caught red-handed raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster. The judge milked a single tear and gave him probation because “he has a bright future.” Three months in jail, and he cried about how ruined his life would be. That’s justice in America. Look at Larry Nassar. Doctor for USA Gymnastics, trusted by parents and the Olympic community. He abused girls for decades. He got 60 years in the slammer, but only after hundreds of survivors came forward. That’s how slow justice moves—when it moves at all. Look at Jeffrey Epstein. Massive trafficker of minors. He got a slap-on-the-wrist plea deal in 2008. Just 13 months in a private wing of a club fed by taxpayer money. He even got daily work release. Ask yourself how that happened—and why. And the Catholic Church. Priests raping altar boys across countries for decades. They shuffled offenders around rather than reporting them. They covered it up. They paid settlements. But bishops never went to prison. Look at cops—real ones with badges and power. They beat their spouses. They rape women in custody. They lie in reports. Some are even charged. Rarely convicted. Even rarer in jail. They keep their badge regardless. You don’t need to pretend to be trans to get away with sexual violence. You just need a badge. A collar. A trust fund. A suit. And maybe a sob story or two. That’s all it takes. We’re soaked in rape culture. It’s in our jokes. It’s in our schools. It’s in our legal system. But no, let’s be terrified of trans women in bathrooms. That makes sense. This whole “they might pretend to be trans” bullshit is a classic diversion. A sob-story-framing tactic. The actual threats are the ones wearing uniforms, ties, and big smiles. They’re the predators no one wants to talk about. But if you mention abuse by a cop or priest or judge, they’ll shut you down. Say “how dare you say that.” Meanwhile stories about “trans predators in the bathroom” get airtime, taxes, legislation. Watch how lawmakers who passed trans panic bills also block funding for shelters or Title IX enforcement. They ban trans youth from sports but won’t pass serious consent ed or hold priests accountable. They write veiled laws, spend millions on these witch hunts, while ignoring real predators. Meanwhile, the data stays clear: trans women are not committing rape in restrooms. Nobody is posing as trans to attack women. But here’s a fact that gets buried: rapists operate inside our churches, schools, courts, jails—safe spaces with no guardrails. Their crimes are hushed, shielded, excused, forgotten. You ask who gets punished in this world? Look at who walks free. Brock Turner. Nassar. Epstein. Priest after priest. Cop after cop. That’s not mental noise. That’s the system failing us over and over. Don’t fall for this fake fear campaign. This shit is projection. The abusers pointing fingers. Rapist screaming “Look over there!” so you don’t see them in the mirror. They hide behind authority while scapegoating trans people who already live under threat.

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kata-the-bee · 18 days ago

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Broken Adjustment

Lore under cut. And by lore, I mean a whole damn short story-

It had been barely a week since he had arrived. A once proud worm god now nothing more than another face in the flock. House arrest had done nothing helpful to his mental health, but it was a necessary evil. Others would recognize him. How could they not? The size surely would be a point of confusion and disbelief, but the antlers, the leaves, the wounds, they all matched. At least there was one who knew, and he was the only thing that made this new purgatory bearable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had only been a decade since the Old Faith fell, a decade that the youngest was trapped. His family remained between life and death, but Leshy was alive here and now, the first saved from the nightmare of death constantly relived. Thankfully, none of the flock knew of his presence as the Lamb was careful to bring the worm back under the cover of starlight. They quickly ushered the worm into a home and ordered him to stay for his safety. The Lamb would figure out a better plan soon, or at least they hoped. Hiding a fallen god in a randomly chosen house certainly wasn't a great plan to begin with, but at the time it was their best option.

Leshy had lashed out at everything with raw fury at the time. There was no rhyme, no rhythm, just pure emotion surging through biting and clawing at whatever furniture was closest. He was exposed, humiliated, and stripped completely of the last sense that had barely been sustained for a millenia by a crown he no longer had. Damn the Lamb! They were to blame for this! Things were perfect until fate reared its ugly head and scattered its cards!

There was one small grace, however, amidst the oppressive nothingness around. A yellow cat, one the Lamb had cautiously trusted to keep a secret. Sitri would recognize Leshy, that was a fact, but if anyone could keep it hushed it would be him. He had already survived Leshy's presence once. What's one more time? Someone had to watch the worm, and the Lamb did not trust him to be alone without supervision. Sitri was perfect for that task and was brought to be reunited with the emotional and blinded fallen bishop.

The yellow cat filled his new role as a caretaker quickly and without question. None for the Lamb, at least. Leshy was apprehensive to the idea of being watched over, but this cat? Familiar. A solemn comfort that he could grasp onto when the world was crushing, painful, and a void. The shift in power dynamic between the two was palpable, awkward, unsettling, but Sitri pushed past it for the sake of his duty. He would be there for Leshy, getting whatever the worm could ever want or need. Within reason, of course. First, however? Gathering comforting items. The transition to this form and location was surely jarring, but small things could make it smoother.

Sitri slipped away to gather one thing he knew would be the most important.

Camellias.

The signature red flowers of Darkwood would be a familiar comfort, surely. Sitri stole away to the fields to collect the youngest buds. Gathering what he could, he soon returned to the house to plant them in whatever space they could fit into. A stray pot picked up on the way would look nice on the windowsill while most of the others could be planted in the exposed soil between the newly broken floorboards. The Worm listened and could smell the change, but he was much too guarded to ever express gratitude in any capacity. That was alright for Sitri. He wasn't doing it for a thank you, after all, but it wasn't all duty either.

The next several days were dedicated purely towards making Leshy comfortable. The bed was pushed towards the innermost wall to be the most in the shadows. Sunlight was agonizing to Leshy's leaves, which were only accustomed to the shade of Darkwood. Perhaps that would change over time. Perhaps not. For now, however, curtains and strategic furniture placement were in order. Food was delivered only, same with water, all by yellow paws so as to not risk Leshy's presence getting exposed before a solid plan was made. Sitri even asked the Lamb to swap his secondary job of refining materials to learning medical. Someone would have to tend to that wound, after all.

That wound.

That gaping mess of torn flesh and empty sockets.

After all these years, it was still agonizing. Death did not spare him his due suffering, nor did purgatory, nor mortality. A constant reminder of thousand year old sins. It ached, it stung, it burned. Some days were better than others and bled less, but it never stopped. It was worse without distractions from the pain, and the lack of yellow cat presence that day was overwhelming. Sitri was taking lessons from one of the medical staff while Leshy panted from the overwhelming pain.

Bandages had been cast aside along with the robes. The pain was overwhelming every remaining sense, and Leshy could no longer stand the touch of the fabrics. All the physical pain, the crushing weight of emotions still raw, and the soul shattering loneliness he was forced to face had made this morning one of the worst he had experienced in a very long time. Blood and ichor poured freely down his face and stained his sheets while he gripped the fabric for any sense of control and grounding.

Leshy was alone, in pain, and desperately trying to stay away from the agonizing light from the window. As the day bled on like the festering wound on his face, so too did his senses bleed away to numbness. The pain had become less overwhelming over hours, but the solitude still remained. When Sitri was there, it was able to be ignored, but without the cat nearby Leshy could truly feel just how alone he was. Even as a god, even when life went to shit after Narinder was sealed, Leshy was never alone. There was Heket still, Kallamar, and Shamura. Now? Just... himself.

Leshy managed to a sitting position after hours of writhing and trembling on the bed and dangled his legs off the edge. He felt so small, so utterly exhausted as he barely managed this upright position. Even when Sitri came to check, he could barely manage to shift his branches. The ex god just sat there naked, his wound still pouring, his willpower depleted. Sitri himself struggled to find the right words to say as a comfort for Leshy. He couldn't possibly comprehend what the worm was going through right now, let alone find some meager saying to try and ease part of the agony. What was once a proud and chaotic force of nature was now nothing more than a hollow shell of what he once was. A husk was all the remained.

Sitri may not have had the words, but the least he could do was be there. And so he sat by Leshy, offering his presence as a reminder that, even now, Leshy still had someone to help fill the hole in his spirit.

He didn't fight it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for any grammatical errors present, I wrote this one one go. Hopefully it's at least semi coherent! Congrats if you made it this far. Have the posted art as an inks only version instead of ink and markers!

#cotl #cult of the lamb #traditional art #cotl art #cotl bishops #cotl au #cotl leshy #white gel pen #white paper #black and white #pen #marker #hatching #cotl leshy x yellow cat #cotl leshycat #cult of the lamb leshy #cotl yellow cat #cult of the lamb yellow cat #leshycat

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aventurineswife · 6 months ago

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Checkmate in Silence

Summary: Jing Yuan, March 7th, Dan Heng, and You gather for a lighthearted game of chess aboard the Astral Express. While Dan Heng stays focused on the game, Jing Yuan and March work together in secret, stealing and eating his pieces when he isn’t looking. The playful conspiracy unfolds as Jing Yuan and March’s teamwork leads to a sneaky checkmate, leaving Dan Heng bewildered and amused. The game ends in laughter and camaraderie, capturing a moment of fun and lightheartedness among the group.

Tags: @novalicviper, Jing Yuan x Reader x March 7th x Dan Heng, Chess, Mischief, Humor, Lighthearted, Fluff, Playful Competition, Teamwork, can be read Romantically or Platonically.

Warnings: March eats Dan Heng's pieces, yeah.

A/N: don't ask, March is just hungry 🧍‍♀️

It was a peaceful afternoon on the Astral Express, the gentle hum of the train providing a calm backdrop to an unexpected gathering in the lounge. You, March, Dan Heng, and Jing Yuan had gathered around a small table, set up for an intense yet playful game of chess.

March was as lively as ever, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. Her fingers drummed against the edge of the table, eager for the game to begin. "I’m going to win this time, I just know it! No more losing to you guys!" she declared, looking at you with wide, determined eyes.

Jing Yuan sat with a serene smile, his eyes glinting as he surveyed the board. "Is that so? We’ll see," he mused, his voice as calm as always. Despite his lazy demeanor, he had a sharp mind for strategy—and chess was no exception.

Dan Heng sat across from you, his eyes flickering between the pieces. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea of playing chess in the first place, but his sense of duty meant he couldn't refuse when everyone else seemed so eager. He adjusted his glasses, glancing over the pieces, clearly trying to maintain his focus.

You shuffled the pieces and set up the board, the quiet atmosphere only broken by March’s occasional giggles and Jing Yuan's soft chuckles. As the game began, it was clear who was the strategist here. Jing Yuan and March exchanged subtle glances, their teamwork already becoming apparent to you, though not to Dan Heng.

With a move, Jing Yuan casually shifted a knight, and in the blink of an eye, March's hand shot out to snatch the piece from the board. Without missing a beat, she popped it into her mouth, chewing with a mischievous grin. You stifled a laugh, trying to hide your amusement, but Dan Heng never looked up from the board, completely unaware of the sneak attack unfolding right under his nose.

Jing Yuan’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he glanced at you. "I believe that's check," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he moved his queen into place.

March, still chewing her stolen knight, gave him a thumbs-up before quickly wiping her mouth. "Thanks for the assist, Jing Yuan!" she whispered, her eyes bright with excitement.

Dan Heng, oblivious to the trickery, focused intently on the game. "Don’t get too cocky," he muttered, moving his bishop with precision. "I’m not going down that easily."

March leaned over to you, her face lighting up with a mischievous grin. "He never looks away, does he? We have to be fast!"

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling the thrill of the game. "Alright, let's do it."

The next few moves passed in a flurry of calculated plays. As Dan Heng moved his pieces, his eyes never strayed far from the board, focused and sharp. However, it wasn’t enough to stop the pair of conspirators. Jing Yuan shifted his rook, and within seconds, March had seized another piece—this time, a pawn. With a wink, she popped it into her mouth, making sure to savor the moment.

"You two are ruthless," you said, grinning. "Dan Heng doesn’t even know what’s happening!"

Dan Heng, unaware of the growing pile of pieces that had mysteriously vanished, made another move. "I have you now," he muttered, unaware of the impending checkmate.

Jing Yuan glanced at March, who was now gleefully enjoying her stolen pieces. He smirked before making his final move, placing his queen on the board. "Checkmate," he declared, his voice low and satisfied.

Dan Heng blinked in surprise, finally looking up at the board. "Wait... How did—" His gaze shifted to the empty spots where his pieces used to be. A look of realization dawned on his face as he met March’s wide, innocent eyes. "You—"

March grinned sheepishly, wiping a small crumb from her lips. "Uh… I think I might’ve eaten a few of your pieces. Oops?"

Dan Heng let out a deep sigh, a mix of disbelief and resignation. "You two... were teaming up this whole time, weren’t you?"

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, his calm demeanor unchanged. "It was a fair strategy, Dan Heng. Sometimes, it's not just about the pieces you play... but the ones you don’t."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before you, the playful rivalry and the easy camaraderie between all of you. Despite the underhanded tactics, there was no animosity—just the warmth of being together, sharing this lighthearted moment.

Dan Heng sighed again but couldn't hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. "You all are impossible," he muttered, but the hint of amusement in his voice was enough to show he didn’t mind too much.

Jing Yuan leaned back, stretching slightly and surveying the group with a contented smile. "Another victory for the team," he said, as if the game had been won by sheer strategy alone.

March raised her hand, eager to declare her own triumph. "Yep! We make a great team!" She gave you a wink and a playful thumbs-up, signaling her satisfaction.

As the laughter died down, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. It wasn't just the victory that mattered—it was the way you all made memories together, one mischievous move at a time.

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voidwitchboots · 2 months ago

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Didn't think I was going to ever post on Tumblr again but here I go.

This is my ROTTMNT Kaiju AU, or I guess Rise of the Kaiju Mutant Ninja Turtles.

In a world where Kaiju of varying sizes are the norm, the KDF (Kaiju Defense Force) fights tirelessly to defend humanity from these creatures. Despite this, countries are still at odds with each other and humanity has yet to unite against a common goal.

Dr. Baron Draxum has decided to change that.

If you don't want to read the info below basically the boys are 50ish feet tall and fight kaiju instead of mutants. They eventually grow to be around 100 feet tall.

Draxum develops a substance with the intent of mutating baby kaiju into warriors under his control. He chooses four different turtle type kaiju and designs them to become the perfect soldiers. However, he requires human DNA as kaiju intelligence is that of an animal and he needs them to take orders. Here is when he needs the perfect warrior DNA.

The Hamato Clan is one of a few ancient clans with supernatural abilities that allow them to fight kaiju. Hamato Yoshi is to be the next head and is said to be the most talented warrior the clan has seen for several generations. After the death of his mother and the clan's disregard for her safety, Yoshi leaves his family to pursue a career in acting. This is where he meets Lena and falls in love.

Eventually he learns she is the notorious Big Mama who runs the Battle Nexus, an illegal (but allowed by the KDF) arena where kaiju are captured and forced to fight. Yoshi is forced to use his family's Ninpo to fight in the arena. One day, he is approached by a scientist.

Draxum frees Yoshi and, as in canon, uses him to mutate the baby kaiju. The plan was for the mutants to imprint on him [Draxum] so they would stay loyal. Instead, they imprint on Yoshi, who then escapes with the four turtles who as this point are roughly the size of dogs.

Yoshi is NOT mutated but hides from the KDF, Big Mama, and the Hamato in order to protect his new sons. Unfortunately the children are growing quickly and he does not have the resources needed to care for them on his own. Reluctantly, he approaches the KDF.

Agent Bishop, who holds an intense hatred for kaiju after losing his family in an attack, immediately suggest terminating the turtles before they become a threat. The KDF decides to take the turtles in and use them as eventual assets to fight off kaiju. They were originally going to simply take them from Yoshi, who retaliated. Even then, the children imprinted on him and are fiercely loyal.

No Yoshi, no turtles. Yoshi then "joins" the KDF.

The boys grow up on military base in the wilderness. They are unaware that KDF captured Draxum years prior and now use him as an expert on the turtle's unique biology. The brothers live in isolation for the most part until one day a sergeant brings his daughter in and she sneaks off to what appears to be an open field only to stumble on a giant turtle reading under a tree.

April eventually meets and befriends all four brothers in the span of a day. It is decided she can visit the turtles freely as Yoshi and some of KDF believe it will be good for them to have a friend their age.

Years later, when the boys are teens (season 1 ages), they are tasked to fight kaiju. Fearing the public outcry of intelligent kaiju, the brothers are given costumes and the public is told that they are experimental mechs and the voices are the pilots.

They fight as basically a hero team for almost a year until Leo's helmet is damaged and reveals his face to the public.

There is a major controversy, some people feel betrayed while others still consider the boys heroes. Eventually the boys, who had been benched after the incident, are needed to fight off a sudden wave of kaiju that the KDF cannot handle.

This is when they can finally show off their Ninpo, as they had to hide it from the Hamato (they would have killed them for being kaiju).

After they save the city, public turns about 90% positive and they freely interact with the city again but now outside of costume.

They are celebrities. They have fan clubs. They are social media sensations.

Things are pretty great until the Krang appear.

The Krang are the source of Empirium, the radiation that created kaiju in the first place. The boys trek to Kaiju Island, source of the Empirium, to prevent the Krang from invading.

They are successful, but there are side effects.

Draxum designed the boys to grow very quickly in a short amount of time. For this to work they needed vast amounts of Empirium. Since they were raised on a military base, they did not have access to Empirium and as a result their growth was stunted.

They physically stay teens until they are in their early 20's. After they are exposed to the Empirium source, their radiation starved bodies absorb a dangerous (to humans) amount of it that results in a massive growth spurt.

They double in size in about 6 weeks, speed running puberty and now full grown adults.

Raph: 55' -> 115'

Leo and Donnie: 45' -> 95'

Mikey: 40' -> 70'

Their mutations also fully develop and their physical strength multiplies considerably, being much MUCH stronger than kaiju their size. Their senses, agility, and ninpo also vastly improve. This is when they realize that they were truly designed to be devastating weapons that could level cities like they were cardboard if they so choose.

The brothers and KDF are hesitant to have the public see them in their new adult forms, but once again they are forced out to defend the city from a kaiju threat.

The public actually takes it very well.

Some of it TOO well.

Anyway that's the story I have so far, along with some future family fluff.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #sfw gt #rottmnt g/t #rottmnt kaiju au #g/t community #g/t #sfw g/t #rottmnt au

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tortillamastersblog · 8 months ago

Text

➶ The Bet | Kate Bishop ➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: Being known as the quiet and reserved student, you mind your own business and stay out of people’s way.

Kate Bishop is the exact opposite. Outgoing, bubbly, and loud, she’s the definition of a popular girl, so it comes as a surprise when she asks you out on a random Thursday afternoon.

Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“Hey!”

An unfamiliar voice next to me makes me flinch before looking up from my notebook.

Standing right there, with sparkling eyes and a dopey grin on her face is Kate Bishop.

“Uh. . . Hi.” I cringe at my own awkwardness and look around to make sure no one is watching us.

What could Kate Bishop–popular, quirky, beloved-by-all Kate Bishop–possibly want from me? A nobody with only one friend and a knack for origami.

Seemingly unbothered by my hesitation, Kate plops down in the chair across the table. She smiles and puts her bag down, but she doesn’t take off her coat.

“Can I help you?” I ask politely, pulling my study material closer to my side of the table.

“Yes, actually.” She smirks and whispers conspiratorially, “You’re the only one who can help me.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I lean back in my chair. “Excuse me?”

Mistaking my surprise for offense, Kate’s eyes widen and she backtracks immediately. “No, wait—! That came out wrong.”

I cross my arms over my chest and bite the inside of my cheek to hide my growing smile.

We share some classes and have been in a couple of group projects before, but other than that we’ve never interacted. Have I noticed she’s cute? Yes. Is she charming? Definitely. Do I have a crush on her? Totally! No, absolutely not, but the way she’s all flustered and stumbling over her words at the moment is pretty endearing.

“I- I-“ she stutters and fidgets with her fingers, her cool and carefree demeanor replaced by nervousness. “Wow, this is not how I— You know what? I’m just going to go. . . Yep!”

She goes to stand up, red-faced and embarrassed, but I stop her. “No, hey. It’s okay. . . What do you want?”

“I—“ Blue eyes filled with uncertainty dart over my face. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask, no longer hiding my smile.

Kate sighs and smiles tentatively as well. She takes another moment to gather her thoughts before saying, “As you may or may not know, we share a couple of classes and—“

I snort in amusement. “Yeah, I know”

“Right, and— Well, I kind of. . . like you—“

My eyes widen and heat crawls up the back of my neck. That is the last thing I ever expected to come out of her mouth, but here we are, I guess.

Kate is too busy fidgeting with her fingers to notice my delighted surprise and goes on talking.

“—but until now I’ve been too scared to talk to you, never mind ask you out and— Oh God, I’m rambling again. . .”

My smile softens and a warm tingling feeling settles into the pit of my stomach.

“Anyway.” She huffs and meets my gaze hesitantly. “I was wondering if you’d ever consider doing something with me. Well, not doing—“

“Kate.” I chuckle, interrupting her before she starts rambling again.

“Yeah?” She bites her bottom lip and furrows her eyebrows.

“Are you trying to ask me out?” She goes to say something, but I beat her to it. “Because if you are. . . my answer is yes.“

Her eyes widen and her jaw slackens. “Really?”

I smile sheepishly and scratch the back of my neck. “Really. I. . . kind of like you, too.”

Kate laughs in relief and jumps to her feet. “It’s settled then.” Her grin is so bright it’s almost blinding. “You and I are going on a date. How about tomorrow? After class? We could go to this cute coffee shop around the corner.”

Giddiness surges through me and I can’t help but nod eagerly. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a date, not only because my ex broke my heart a year ago and it’s taken me this long to get over it, but also because I’ve been too scared to get hurt again.

With Kate though, I’m not scared. She seems sweet and sincere, and I can’t wait to see where things go between us.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she says, grinning as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

“Yeah, see you.” I wave awkwardly and watch her leave the library with a dazed smile.

“So, you’re telling me you saw someone getting attacked by a crow in a park, and you did nothing?.” Kate laughs and I chuckle softly, taking another sip of my coffee.

“Well, yeah?! I didn’t want to be its next victim! Besides, that lady was fine once the crow left her alone.“ I try to reason, having just told Kate of the time I came across a crow attacking a woman during my run through a nearby park.

“I get that, but. . .you could have at least called for help!” She laughs even more incredulously and nudges me playfully.

“You expect me to call the cops on a crow?” I nudge her back.

“Well, no. . .” She smiles sheepishly and takes a sip of her own coffee.

I snort playfully. “Exactly.”

The cafe is quite busy, but Kate and I managed to secure a spot on the couch in the corner by the front window. It allows for the perfect view of the cafe’s interior and the street outside where people are rushing by wrapped in scarves and hats to ward off the autumn breeze.

“Hey, uh— I got you something,” I say after a moment of comfortable silence.

Kate sets down her coffee and sinks back into the couch with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?”

I nod and quickly look away to hide the redness creeping into my cheeks. I grab my bag from the floor and open it, rummaging around in it until I find what I’m looking for.

Either she’s going to like it, or she’ll hate it and think I’m a total nerd. . .

I swallow harshly and square my shoulders before holding out my hand. Sitting on my palm is a small origami rose head that I folded in class earlier.

I wasn’t actually planning on giving it to her, but then I thought Why not?

Eyebrows furrowing, Kate glances at me before taking it and inspecting it carefully.

She doesn’t say anything at first and I get the horrible impression that I shouldn’t have given it to her after all, but then she looks back up and asks, “You made this?”

I nod and bury my hands in my lap, trying to ignore the way my palm still tingles where her fingers brushed against it.

Adoration flickers over Kate’s face, and for a moment I’m filled with relief, but then something like regret shines in her eyes.

I frown and go to take back the rose, but Kate closes her hand around it and holds it against her chest.

“You know. . . all my life the people I love have always bought me everything I could ever dream of. A new car, a new bow, an apartment—everything.“

She meets my eyes and smiles sadly, her next words making my heart hurt for her. “But none of them ever put the thought and effort into giving me something that actually matters. Something that actually means something. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything I have, but. . . You made this for me and I—“

I frown at the way her voice falters. “It’s nothing, Kate. It’s just a piece of paper that I—“

“No.” Her hand on my knee makes my brain short circuit for a second. “It’s not. Not to me, at least.”

I look at her, seeing the emotional turmoil in her eyes and smile shyly. “Okay. . . If you say so. I’m glad you like it.”

_______________________________________________

This will probably be a three-parter. Hope you guys liked it! :)

#x reader #angst #kate bishop x reader #kate x reader #kate bishop #marvel #mcu

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kneecapsbelong2me · 15 days ago

Text

Not Like Last Time

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader (no pronouns used)

Summary: Kate Bishop is your best friend. You have feelings for her, even though you’ve tried your hardest not to.

Word Count: ~1,900

Content Warnings: A bit of angst

————————————————————————

You’re 99% sure that Kate has feelings for you. Which is a problem. Not because you don’t like her back, but because you do.

You didn’t mean to catch feelings for your best friend. Not after last time. But Kate is…Kate. She’s brave, funny, kind, devastatingly charming, and the most caring person you know. It was almost impossible not to fall for her.

But you can’t do anything about it. No matter how much she playfully flirts, or sneaks up behind you to hug you and rest her head on your shoulder (you catch her almost every time), or cuddles with you on the couch, your bodies fully touching.

You won’t date a best friend again. It’s not like the movies or books, where the two best friends are soulmates and fall in love and live happily ever after. Dating your best friend leads to the two of you never speaking to each other again. You know from personal experience. That can’t happen with Kate—you couldn’t bear losing her, not to mention you work together.

So you savor her lingering touches, and try to convince yourself you only want her like a best friend. Friends cuddle. They fake-flirt with each other. It doesn’t mean anything more to her.

Yelena corners you in your room one day as you’re getting ready for an Avengers party. You’re only really half-dressed, but neither of you mind. She sits on your bed, staring you down through the mirror on your wall.

“You like Kate Bishop.” It’s not phrased as a question.

“She’s my best friend,” you shrug, “liking her is kind of the point.”

Yelena glares at you. “You like her romantically. You cuddle practically all the time. You hold hands.”

“You and I cuddle, Yel. It’s not that big a deal.”

You don’t know why you’re trying to hide the truth from Yelena. You both know she knows.

“You are so stubborn. She likes you, you know.”

“That’s the issue.” Having confirmation that Kate likes you back sends nerves through your stomach. Your heart speeds up just a bit.

“You like each other. Why don’t you do something about it?”

“You know why.” You had told Yelena about your ex one night when you had gotten drunk. How you’d been best friends since childhood. How it had turned to something more. How badly it had gone.

“Kate isn’t your ex.”

“I can’t lose her,” you whisper, lip trembling. Yelena softens. She sighs, rubbing a hand soothingly on your back,

“Just think about it, okay?”

You nod, mostly to placate Yelena. Because you have thought about it. Extensively. For the past few months, every night as you drifted to sleep your mind ran through scenarios. There were too many bad what ifs and not enough good ones to risk it.

————

There aren’t many people at the party when you arrive. This is your typical move: arrive early, stay until the middle, leave early, and very rarely, return towards the end. You spot Kate pouring a drink at the bar, and try to look anywhere else to avoid contact. You’ve been feeling weird since your conversation with Yelena.

Unfortunately, it’s like Kate knows you’re avoiding her, because her gaze locks onto yours. Her smile spreads into a full on grin and she waves you over.

“Hey, hot stuff,” she winks when you reach her, already pouring your favorite drink.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops. “Hi, Katie.”

“You’re not going to tell me how hot I am?” Kate pouts, sliding your glass to you.

“Like you don’t already know,” grinning, you take a sip of your drink. It’s perfect. Kate knows just how you like it.

She leans across the bar to kiss your cheek, a bit too close to your mouth to be entirely platonic. You let her, but stiffen slightly. Kate clocks your discomfort, and it’s impossible not to feel guilty at the look of confusion that passes over her face.

“I need to go say hi to,” you quickly scan the room, desperate for an escape, “Bucky.”

Now Kate looks hurt. You’re not being a good friend right now, you know that. It twists in your chest. It takes everything in you not to say you were joking and pull her close.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll talk to you later?” Kate plasters on a smile, but you know her. It’s her talking to journalists or random party guests smile, not the one usually reserved for you.

You squeeze her hand gently in response, guilt flooding you. You turn and walk over to Bucky, who just arrived, and looks like he does not want to be here. Same, Bucky. Same.

“Hey, Bucky.” You walk over to him. He pulls you into a side hug.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Your eyes go wide and you choke on your drink. Coughing, you splutter,

“What?”

He shrugs, like it’s obvious. “You and Bishop are usually attached at the hip at these things, but you rushed over here to see me.”

“Was it that obvious?” You cringe. Bucky nods. “I really did want to talk to you.”

“Sure you did, kid.”

You could drop this line of conversation right now. Bucky would raise an eyebrow, but he wouldn’t say anything.

“We’re not fighting or anything,” comes out of your mouth instead.

“No, you’re just avoiding her.”

“I guess I am,” you take a deep swig of your drink.

Bucky sighs. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. This is neither the time, nor the place, to unpack everything going on in your head.

“Fine with me.”

You stick with Bucky, making polite small talk with politicians and less polite conversation with other members of the team. Wordlessly, Bucky always guides you so you never run into Kate. It looks unintentional to the untrained eye, but you know better. You make a silent note to get him a thank you present later.

Kate sticks mostly with Yelena, not that you’re looking for her in the crowd. You just happen to spot them a few times as you’re people-watching. That’s it.

An hour and a half in, you’ve had enough.

“If I have to smile politely and nod at one more politician, I am blowing this place up,” you mutter to Bucky. The two of you are taking a break at the edge of the room.

“Is it time for you to slip out for a few hours?” Of course Bucky knows your patterns.

“I think so. Thanks for letting me tag along with you tonight.”

“Anytime, kid.” Bucky claps a hand on your shoulder. “But talk to Bishop, okay? She’s had this sad look on her face like someone kicked her puppy. I don’t know what’s happening with you two, but I know you want to work things out.”

You look at your feet and nod. Bucky smiles, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, get outta here.”

You do.

———

You collapse on your bed the second you get through the door, not even bothering to change out of your clothes. You need to get a grip on yourself. Either get over these feelings or suck it up, because not being around Kate hurts every atom in your body.

This is why you can’t be together, you remind yourself. This feeling, like there’s a gaping hole in your chest, is exactly why you can’t be more than her best friend.

Groaning, you sit up. You’re definitely not going back to the party tonight. You strip, rummaging in your drawer for your sleep clothes. The first thing you find is Kate’s merch. The universe really is against you. You pull on the Hawkeye pants anyway, deciding you deserve the guilt trip.

There’s a knock at your door as you’re looking for a shirt. It’s probably Yelena, here to chew you out for your behavior tonight. You open the door. Yelena’s seen you shirtless plenty of times. She won’t care, and you don’t have the energy to scramble for one.

It’s not Yelena outside.

“Oh! Uh, hi.” Kate stammers, face going red as she tries not to stare at your naked torso.

“Kate! I was just, uh,” you struggle with words, backing away quickly and throwing on the first shirt your fingers find. “I thought you were Yelena.”

Belatedly, you realize the T-shirt is another piece of Hawkeye merch. Welp.

“Would you have opened the door if you knew it was me?”

You recoil. Her words hurt more than if she’d slapped you.

“Katie…I—I, uh.”

“You’re avoiding me.” Kate crosses her arms.

“Kate, it’s not like that—“

“Will you just please tell me what’s going on?” Kate pleads. “Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”

“No!” You protest, holding your hands up, “you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not mad.”

“Then what?”

You feel the distance between you even though you’re inches apart, separated only by the threshold of your door. You gesture for Kate to come inside. She gives you a look, but does, sitting on your bed. You close the door and sit next to her, resisting the urge to touch your thigh to hers.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look straight ahead.

“So you’re avoiding me?” Kate’s stare is on you, incredulous. “I like you too, you know.”

This is not how you’d imagined this conversation going. Frankly, you’d expected to never have this conversation.

“That’s the problem.”

Kate’s voice breaks. “How is that a problem?”

The memories of your first heartbreak rush to the front of your mind. “I can’t lose you! I think I’d die if you stopped talking to me.”

Kate falters. “Why would you lose me if we got together?”

“Because that’s what happens!” You shout. When did you start raising your voice? “We date, and inevitably it goes badly and we never speak again.”

“How do you know that’s what will happen with us?” Kate whispers.

“I—“ you don’t know.

“I won’t let that happen. Our friendship will always come first.”

You’ve heard those words before.

“Kate…”

“Please?” She takes your hands and forces you to look at her. “Don’t you want to at least try? At least see if things are different this time. With me.”

You do. You really do. You want to be with Kate so much it physically hurts. But it hurts so much less than the thought of losing her entirely.

Kate can tell you’re losing your resolve. “We can take it slow,” she rubs small circles on the back of your hand. “Start with a date. See where it goes from there.”

You don’t answer for a long time, sitting with your thoughts, thoughts going at the speed of a hurricane.

“Okay,” you finally say, squeezing her hands. “I can try slow.”

She finally smiles. “Yeah? You mean it?”

“I do.” Those words carry so much weight that they make your chest ache.

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Hmm, I might be able to pencil you in,” you joke. You both know your night is totally open.

Kate laughs. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

She stands and kisses your cheek, and this time you lean into her touch. More than anything, you want to turn your head and kiss her lips. But you resist. Kissing before your first date is definitely not taking things slow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” you smile.

She squeezes your hand one last time before heading out the door. She locks eyes with you as she’s closing it.

“It’s a date.”

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader

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widowmaxff · 2 years ago

Text

made shine again

pairings: kate bishop × fem!reader | parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: makeout, embarrassment (?)

You held Kate's shoulders affectionately while she held your waist. You moved calmly in her lap, distributed some purple marks on her neck and she panted softly in your ear, making you smile. "I'm going to kill you for marking me." Kate says, but you don't respond and continue with the 'act'.

You take your hands to her shirt and start to undo the buttons that insisted on getting tangled. You look down and see Kate's hard breasts covered by her bra. You smile at her and start to wrap your hands around her body, which shivers with every touch of yours. You go up to the zipper on the fabric that covered a lot of things there, almost taking it off. Suddenly you feel Kate stiffen and her heart get faster. She quickly takes you off her lap, and when you were about to complain your gaze goes to your bedroom door. Your mother, Natasha Romanoff, was wide-eyed and her mouth was forming an "O."

"Mom...?" You call her, but she remains frozen, alternating her gaze between you and Kate. The woman continues like this for some time, which seems to have been ten years. She seems to snap out of her trance, and then she just runs her hands over her face.

"Wanda made... dinner, dinner is ready." She still seemed to be trying to reason what had happened there. She leaves the room and closes the door. Your heart was almost spilling out of your mouth and you could say the same for Kate.

"How long was she here?" Your girlfriend asks. "You didn't lock the door?!"

"I- I don't know! Oh my God." You get up from the bed, running your hands over your face. You were worried, very worried. How would she react to all this?

"What is she going to do to me? Will she arrest me? Point a gun at me and..."

"Kate!" You cut her. "She's not going to do anything like that, she's just surprised, I think." You say the last part quietly, trying to calm Kate down. "We better go, dinner is ready, we'll sort it out later." Kate was shaking and you noticed it.

"Hey, relax! She's not going to do anything, okay?" You tell her, who now had one of her hands holding yours. "We'll talk to her tomorrow, okay?"

She just nods, and to try to calm her down, you give the girl a hug and a kiss on the cheek. You help her tidy her clothes and you walk to the table. Your mother and Wanda sat at the end of the table, Billy sat on Wanda's left side, with Tommy at his front. You sit next to Billy, who had a smile on his face enjoying Wanda's food. Kate sits in front of you, staying close to Natasha, who was just looking at the food, not showing any reaction.

"You can eat, dear!" Wanda turns to Kate, who was looking at Natasha. She was obviously scared, as she had heard stories about how he 'treated' boys who dared to look at you.

Kate smiles at Wanda and soon starts putting food on the plate. You look at your mother again, now she had her gaze on a specific point. You couldn't decipher what her face meant. It was all new to her seeing you kissing another person who's almost a kind of Avenger. She didn't want that life to you, it was more than dangerous.

"How was your day, kids?" Wanda asks interestedly, while drinking her orange juice.

"Well... we, um." Your girlfriend starts talking, but you soon cut her off, knowing she was going to say something stupid. "We helped Clint with some arrows, and then we came home to watch a movie." You respond, seeing Kate put a smile on her face, trying to hide her nervousness.

"Watch a movie... hum." You hear your mother murmur softly, only allowing you and Kate to hear. You feel the girl's gaze at you, as a way of trying to show that she was nervous. You bring your eyes at hers and hold it, the girl smiles and continues eating things from her plate.

You started not paying attention to the conversation just like Natasha. Wanda said something, while Billy and Tommy agreed. The older girlfriend wasn't trying to understand what was going on either, while kept looking at your mother. "I think I'll be going now." your girlfriend says, while getting up from the table.

"You can stay, darling!" Wanda says, she loved Kate, which made you more comfortable with your relationship. "You can spend the night here if you want."

"Well, It's getting late and I need to feed Lucky. But, the food was great, Mrs. Maximoff, thank you very much!" She smiles at Wanda, who does the same for your girlfriend.

"I'm glad you liked it, dear! Come back often, okay?"

"I'll walk you outside." You say, as you stood up and moved to Kate's side. The girl says goodbye to everyone at the table, including Natasha, who doesn't do much more than wave her hand.

You head to the entrance of the house and are soon outside. Kate exhales when you are finally alone. You both welcomed each other because of the nervousness that was inside. "I thought I was going to die in there!" She says, making you let out a short laugh.

"You know we're going to have to talk to my mother, right?" You speak, Kate nods then crosses her arms.

"You can talk now." You and Kate turn around and your mother is standing in front of the door. She had her arms crossed and her expression closed. You look at Kate and her eyes are wide and her hands are clenched into fists.

"Mom..."

"Mrs. Romanoff..." She walks towards you two, standing in front of Kate. The girl takes a step back, holding your hand tightly. "Mom, Kate and I are dating." You end up speaking, seeing the girl still looking at you with her eyes wide open. "For three months now." You continue, your mother looks at you, not changing her expression.

"Get in the car, kid." She says, addressing Kate. Your mother gets in the driver's seat. Your girlfriend looks at you, looking like she would start crying right then and there. She closes the door and adjust her posture correctly, waiting for the Black Widow to take the gun out of her pocket and shoot at her. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating. She looks at the woman next to her and see her take a deep breath.

"A few weeks ago, I thought Y/n was dating some guy." She starts. "She always has that phone to her ear, laughing, talking to someone, with her cheeks red..." Natasha continued with her eyes straight ahead. "So I questioned her, I asked who she talked to every night before going to sleep, and she told me it was you." She looks at Kate. "And I didn't believe it. I laughed and said that I knew it was a guy she liked, that I was going to kill him for stealing my daughter's heart." She shrugs. "But then, she showed me that it was really you. At first I didn't understand, because she was completely different and silly when talking to you on the phone." She runs her hands through her hair and pauses, Kate just continued paying attention, waiting for the moment of her death. "I thought you were just her friend, who she trusted. But you are more than that, Kate, you were the thing that made her happy again during the blip. You made her shine again, Kate." She looks at her with drooping eyebrows. "Y/n never had a real friend, she always had Yelena and the Avengers, she thought that was enough. Then everything happened and she closed herself off from everyone."

Then she stops. Kate see a tear fall down her face, Natasha quickly wipes it away trying to make sure she doesn't see it. Kate still had her eyes on her. The woman looks at the window next to her and sees you sitting on the sidewalk while waiting for the two of them in the car.

"And one day she took you home. I found it strange, actually. But I was happy, she had made a friend without being one of the Avengers. Well, kind of now." Kate laughs, and Natasha follows. "I want you to know, Kate, that if you do any bad thing to my daughter, I will kill you." She says, confidently, making Kate widen her eyes and nod her head repeatedly.

"Yes ma'am! It never crossed my mind to harm her, and it never will!" She speaks, with one hand on her chest, as if she was declaring a hymn. "I love your daughter very much, I won't let anything happen to her!"

"You don't have to worry about that." She says, referring to hee last sentence. "It's no wonder I have weapons." Her eyes widen once again, it was obvious that she had weapons, but what if she used them against Kate? "We talked about the basics, Kate. And don't want to have any more conversations again!" She reinforces the last sentence, making her swallow hard. "Do you want a ride?"

"Uh, yes! Yes of course, please." She speaks. But she regrets it, what if Natasha kidnapped her? Oh God. "And, can she come to my apartment tomorrow?" She looks at her crookedly. "We're not going to do what we were doing today! I promise."

"It's okay, kid. But know that I find out everything that happens in this city, you hear?" She was serious, very serious.

"Yes! I heard!" She nods, but she really seemed to trust Kate. "Can I say goodbye to her first? Before we go." She asks, referring to you.

"Go ahead, one minute!"

"Yes, ma'am!" She gets out of the car quickly and when you see her, you get up, moving towards her.

"What did she say? What happened? Everything is fine? Are we still dating? Did she approve? Did she fight with you? She..."

"Y/n calm down!" Kate cut you off, making you stop talking immediately. "Everything went well... She told me some things, and everything is fine!"

You smile from ear to ear, you look over Kates shoulder towards Natasha, who was looking at both of you. The older woman smiles at her daughter, you does the same back. " She offered me a ride." Kate says. "I'm going, do you want to stop by my house tomorrow? At night, so you know..."

"Yeah, but I don't know if my mother will let me, she must still be a little dazed from earlier today." You scratche your head in doubt. Looking at your mother again and then at Kate.

"I already asked her." Kate says. "Your mother let it, oddly enough." You smile and gives her one last kiss on the cheek, you weren't going to be intimate with your mother watching, obviously.

You say goodbye to your girlfriend and she snuggles back into the passenger seat. Natasha didn't seem to be hurt, angry or anything like that. Which was good, since Kate thought if you told him about your relationship, she would arrest her. The journey was kind of fun, they didn't touch on the subject earlier, and she thanks God for that. Before getting out of the car to go into the apartment, Natasha Romanoff gave her a single order. "Don't hurt my daughter." and Kate would never do that.

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