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#I took a great risk making this right where anyone in my family could walk in and see it- it's not worth it but i did it anyway
hgduo · 1 year
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q!luzubur: do you think a spaniard and a british man could fall in love?
War is over...
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much-obliged-timothy · 7 months
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Whumptober #12
Day 12 - Mass Effect - Insomnia
*
The Citadel was never truly quiet, but it certainly slowed its pace at night.
Shepard walked slowly past all too familiar shops and apartments, mindlessly lapping the areas open to the public. He slowed as he neared the food joint where he and Kaidan had solidified their relationship, lingering there longer than he had anywhere else that night.
Kaidan. Kaidan had nearly died for this mission already. And it was only going to get more dangerous from here.
Shepard shook himself and got walking again. Kaidan was a soldier; he knew the risks and he took them willingly. Shepard would not dishonor him by babying him.
He thought of Ashley. She had been one of the earliest casualties of this whole mess, and she didn’t even know just how much her brave sacrifice truly meant. 
How many more would have to die? How many more friends would Shepard have to leave behind? 
Could he even be objective anymore as a leader? If he had to make the choice between Ashley and Kaidan today, would he be certain he’d made it logically instead of emotionally? He was certain he’d made the best, most logical call he could back then. But these days, he just wasn’t sure he was capable of that anymore. His crew had become his family. 
He could lose all of them.
And it could be his fault.
“Pretty late for a stroll, Shep.”
He jumped a little, cursing himself for letting his guard drop. Then he cursed himself more for even caring that Garrus had snuck up on him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Shepard said as Garrus fell into pace next to him. “You?”
“Sleepless shore leave is no fun,” Garrus agreed. “Mind some company?”
“Be my guest,” Shepard said.
They walked in companionable silence for a while. Finally, Garrus broke it.
“What’s on your mind? And don’t bother bullshitting me. We could all be dead tomorrow, so might as well get it off your chest,” Garrus said. 
Shepard wrestled with himself for a moment, torn between finally being honest and keeping it inside to remain the stoic leader he needed to be. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. Garrus was his best friend; he wouldn’t judge Shepard.
“I can’t stop thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. All the ways it has,” he admitted.
“We knew what we signed up for. If we didn’t want to risk our lives, we probably shouldn’t have agreed to help you fight creatures called ‘Reapers’,” he said.
Shepard shook his head. “I just don’t know if I’m fit for it anymore, Garrus. I’ve rarely doubted my calls before. I’m starting to.”
“Don’t,” Garrus said firmly. “Your calls are the reason we’ve gotten this far.”
“I had us working for a terrorist organization.”
“Well, we all make mistakes.” He nudged Shepard playfully. “Shepard, if you hadn’t done that, imagine how many more colonies would’ve been attacked. You did what you had to do, whatever it took, and then turned yourself in after. You accepted the consequences because you knew you’d done the right thing. I was with you; I promise it was the best call in a bad situation.”
Shepard ran a hand over his head. “I can’t sleep anymore. I overthink all night. The stress of this whole thing has given me insomnia. As if I need more time to overthink.”
“Shepard, we’ll all follow you into hell. We know you’ll make the right calls. You always have before.” Garrus looked up at the darkened sky above them. “I’ve never met anyone so sure of himself. It’s not for nothing. You do what needs to be done and preserve what life you can along the way. You’re a good man, and a great leader. But don’t let that go to your head.”
Shepard nearly smiled at that. “Thanks, Garrus.”
They fell back into that companionable silence. The thought of ever losing Garrus was just one more stresser, though. Garrus had been his best friend for a long time, the two clicking as soon as they met. Garrus had always supported Shepard and believed in him. 
No. No, Shepard had to be confident. He would do the best he could and do whatever he could to get all of his friends out alive and take down the Reapers.
He just hoped he was good enough in the end.
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excellentexecution · 2 years
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@niccolahiromithomas​ asked: "Don't listen to what anyone says! I love you. I love you with all of my mind, body, and soul! And when I made my vows to you, I took them seriously. I'm not going anywhere, Bret Hart. This stroke is just a slight speed bump that I know we can get over and I'm here. No where else. Me and the children and the ones growing inside of me are going nowhere! That's a promise! And I give not two shits if you could never get it up again. Love making is more than intercourse. YOU taught ME that! You have always satisfied me. And I know you always will. Just...stop being so hard on yourself. Please. It's breaking my heart. You're acting like I'm gone already when I'm right here. I'm right here, you stubborn Calgary man!"
Go into my inbox and tell my muse something they need to hear!
Logan and Brianna were asleep in their beds. Tuckered out from a long day of hard work around the house, assisting their mother in the daily chores and responsibilities, helping their father whenever he needed it from the comfort of the living room couch. That was where he was then - as Niccola and Bret talked with television advertisements playing in the background - that was where he had been since returning from the hospital several weeks before. Hardly did he move from one room to the next. Always too tired from physical therapy, always so burned and drained emotionally, least prior to it all, his wheelchair gave him access to mobility. It was difficult for Bret. A heavier cross to bear, a snare that wouldn’t let him breathe, independence and his life were taken away within an instance. A horrible accident that cause - his beloved family and he switched in their respective roles - the worst moment of his entire life forever a piece of himself. Truly, did the Hitman try to get better, to become more than just another story of those who survived a stroke and barely lived. He wanted to be and do more. An inspiration for those also dealing with the aftermath of such a tragedy, a hero for his children, someone who his wife could be proud of. Perhaps, just as much, too, to be the man that he was before, a legend. 
But such dreams were never so simple. Once he could walk without worry, the doctors took away his wheelchair. Once he gained more function of body, the prescription dosages increased, therapy more intense and demanding at the center. All around him hopeful, friends and family and fans all showing their support, good news came just as often as the bad. Bret wouldn’t be the same. Couldn’t and wouldn’t, no matter the amount of blood and tears spilled, he was a man who had gone through great distress, so the doctors told. He might not be able to walk as he once did. Pace slower and reaction time somewhat delayed, he was at risk to have partial, or even complete, loss of certain memory, development of emotional problems, and loss of sexual arousal. Bret was no more like how he used to be. A shell of himself, the truth of his condition too much to bear, the facts overwhelming and scary, back into the darkness did he fall. Flesh that moved and seemed human - an occasional smile sent toward the children and wife he loved dearly - sat in a puddle on the couch, did nothing and felt just as useless. It was a pain that the Hitman wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. Never; not in that lifetime nor any one thereafter. 
A pregnancy announcement the most wonderful news that he had heard in so long, Niccola and he should’ve been preparing for the day that they would welcome their twins. Designing the extra guest room that had gone unused for years, picking and choosing the best in toys and furniture and clothes, baby names written down on a blank piece of Bret’s sketch pad paper, that wasn’t to be seen, least not yet. For an attitude had befallen the family home, an indecent comment that never would’ve graced Bret’s mouth otherwise, his own annoyances taken out unfairly on Niccola. All the anger and worries spoken aloud. Botherations - I could never make real love to you again. The doctors said so. I am nothing now. You and the children don’t deserve this. You should just go - burdens that brought quiet cries, spatters of glass down Bret’s cheeks, wettened. 
“It’s not supposed to be like this.” He finally muttered, using the back of his hand to clean his face of tears, the fingertips, to gather his wits. “I am the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you and the children. That’s my job, Nickie. That’s my job, and I am damn proud to do it. There’s nothing that I’ve loved more than it. But now, now I am nothing more than a lazy sack of potatoes. I can’t do anything for myself anymore. I need help walking from here to the kitchen. I need help showering. God, I have to have my own son write for me because my damn hands won’t allow me to do it on my own. Do you have any idea what it’s like for me to have to see our daughter get on her hands and knees, like she’s some sort of dog, because her father doesn’t have the strength to put on his own socks in the morning? They’re just kids. They should be out having fun. They shouldn’t be waiting on their mess of a father like a bunch of slaves. I’m the one who should be taking care of them. Not the other way around.”
“And you. Look at what I’ve done to you, Nickie. My beautiful wife, working around the house, while pregnant, doing all the hard work that should be mine to handle. Y’know, it’s not fair. You’re the one who should be where I’m sitting. I should be the one making dinner, helping Lo and Bria with their homework, running the errands, but no. I can’t. I’m not allowed to. My body won’t let me, and the damn doctors don’t think it’s wise to start up now. It’s too early, they say. I need more time. But look at all the time I’ve wasted already. You haven’t said anything, y’know, but I know that you’re well aware. We haven’t made love since the accident. Our bed’s been cold for weeks. You have no idea how sorry I am for that, my love. How horrible I feel over it. Sex isn’t everything, I know, but what kind of man am I if I can’t pleasure my wife?”
Bret breathed deeply, trying with all he had to not let a surprise sob escape, “I always looked forward to the moment when we could be together like that. I lived for it. Having you with me, I never felt more loved or cherished. Even at the ages that we are, I can’t ever get enough of you. Never will. Oh, sweetheart, what the hell has happened to me? I was so excited for the twins to get here, but now, now I almost wish they weren’t. I don’t want them to see me like this! I don’t want them to have to look at me and wonder why. I can hardly stand it when I look at you or Logan or Brianna. It kills me. Christ, baby, what am I gonna do?”
___
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
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Commander Buir
Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.
Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.
Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.
Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.
Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......
- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.
Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."
Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.
@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute
You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.
Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.
General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)
General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.
"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."
Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine
Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible
Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious
You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master
Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.
Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so
Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.
Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships
Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.
Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.
IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.
GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD
General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.
Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith
Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.
They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.
"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."
Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.
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finelinevogue · 3 years
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Can you write something about when Harry and Y/N broke up but fans speculate that they got back together and they did get back together. They broke over something stupid, please. You don’t have to do this exactly it can be something like that.
let’s see how this turns out! hope it’s what you wished for?!
The last few months had been rough.
What had started as rumours of a breakup between everyones favourite couple, you and Harry, had turned into an actual breakup.
It had started by Harry spending more time with Olivia, due to press for Don’t Worry Darling. They were always hanging out with each other, even when there was no publicity stunt telling them to. You found it appropriate at first, wanting the movie to gain some form of reputation, but after a while you believed it turned South. It was becoming a definite friendship and not just because they had to. It was the way that Harry would bring Olivia over for dinner without checking with you first, or taking the dog for a walk with her not you, or even staying longer out on stunts than they needed to just because they wanted to.
So you challenged Harry on it. Hell, even the tabloids were challenging you both - claiming Harry had split from you for Olivia. You made him question whether he thought his actions were irresponsible and appropriate or not, to which he thought there was nothing wrong and thought you were being irrational. You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day, only to find him later on the phone speaking to Olivia about how crazy you’d been acting about it all. So you showed him crazy and walked out.
Until today.
For over a half a year your sister had her wedding planned and Harry was supposed to be your guest. You were nervous about turning up without him, because your family were very judgy. Your sister couldnt help being the smarter and the prettier one, but she also didn’t have to parade it around so everyone knew of it. Your mum and dad thought you a disappointment for the longest time, but once you’d gotten a job and had moved out they were a bit more loving over you. Still didn’t hide the fact they desperately hoped for you to have a relationship. It wasn’t that you were bringing Harry along to prove that someone loved you, but more to prove that they would never fully be satisfied whether you had a boyfriend or not. There would always be a podium stand slightly lower for you to stand on.
However, they didn’t know about the breakup.
“Y/N, nice to see you. Where’s Harry?” Another guest asked you, relatives of your mum. It was the same question over and over again, no one really caring about how you are but instead whether you’re in a positive relationship.
“Oh um I think he’s just running a bit late.” Was your chosen answer to respond to said question. It was repetitive, but it kept people off your back.
The wedding was completely beautiful. It was in a beautiful church and was decorated to perfection. The theme was white and royal blue, something your sister had always dreamed of. Children played amongst the pews and family relatives mumbled to each other about gossip. There was still a heavy sadness to the event. Maybe it was because your sister hadn’t asked you to be a bridesmaid - instead, choosing her best friends instead - or maybe it was because you missed Harry so much.
He’d fucked up. He really had, but it didn’t take away that burning passion for him that spread like a wildfire in your belly. You missed him. You still loved him. Worst of all, you had to pretend everything was all alright in front of your family when actually you were breaking apart inside.
Harry hadn’t messaged saying that he was or wasn’t coming, but after everything that had happened you were confident he was going to be a no show, and you would be the embarrassment of the family once again. Your relationship had been very private and exclusive, but Harry’s fans were so investigative you wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that you’d broken up and were aware that you were at a wedding today without him. Neither of you had made a public statement about your breakup, but neither of your wanted to damage each other even more. Fans suspected though and rumours travel fast.
“Y/N how are you doing? How’s Harry?” Another aunt came and asked you, this time with your mother in tow.
“Oh he’s great, yes.” You smiled forcefully, not actually having a clue how your ex-boyfriend was doing. You didn’t keep up with his social media because you were afraid of what you might find.
“Where is he? Is he here?” Your aunt asked.
“He’s late, apparently.” Your mother answered for you, sneeringly. “You’ll be made a fool of if he’s a no show Y/N.”
“I know.”
“I hope everything goes well for you both.” Your aunt kindly said, before waiting for your mum to say something nice too. That was a mistake though.
“Well it’s unlikely she’ll find someone again!” Your mother laughed and pulled your aunt away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your heart sink low.
What were you thinking, letting Harry go like that? Your mum was right, you were never going to find anyone else again. You were so lucky with Harry. He was so kind and so patient with you, but obviously he’d run out of steam towards the end. It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always been told you’re a mighty handful and you need a lot of work put into looking after you, so you understand why you were probably too much for Harry. The showbiz life had never really been something you’d completely submerged yourself into, whereas you guess for Olivia it was rooted in her from birth. She understood Harry’s world the same way he did hers. They would match perfectly for each other, if that’s what they wanted.
You watched the room continue as usual, but you couldn’t keep yourself here. There was too much sadness welling deep within you that you wanted to just run and then keep running. So you did, only to get as far as the bench in the front courtyard. The outside felt calmer and more freeing than inside, you sat and absorbed it for a while, not realising that you were crying until your pretty multicoloured dress had grown darker with a pool of your tears.
“Shit.” You tried rubbing the tears out, but only made you cry a little harder. You thought about your makeup running and tried to compose yourself, fanning your face to calm it down from the heat now.
“And here I was thinking weddings were supposed to be happy.”
You stopped fanning your face to look at him. You couldn’t believe he was standing there, dressed in a beautiful white suit and salmon pink shirt underneath to compliment the colours of your dress - the outfit that you’d helped him pick out over a year ago. He’d remembered. He trusted that you’d still be wearing this dress. He was a sight alright. A vision of beauty and love.
“Harry?” You questioned, wiping your under eyes to clear away any running mascara, not quite believing he was standing there.
“So what was it? Bad music playing? No vodka? Or maybe there’s nowhere for you to escape to go read the book I know you have stuffed away in your clutch bag.” He stood at a distance from you, hands in his trouser pockets, to make sure you were comfortable.
“I brought vodka instead of the book.” You chuckled, reaching into your clutch to prove it to him.
“Lucky for you, i’ve come to save the day.” Harry reached to the inside of his blazer pocket and pulled out a Kindle. You’d always been debating whether or not to buy one, because the feeling of having a book to turn its’ physical pages is a feeling second to none. “Take it, it’s yours.”
Harry handed it out to you and you stood up to reach for it hesitantly. Harry assured you that it was okay and that you’d been reading too many books if you thought it was a trap of some sort.
“Thank you, Harry.” You spoke sincerely. You stroked your thumb over the cover and turned the case lid over to start up the screen. The screen lit up and it was set to a picture of your favourite quote, annotated just as you would have in your own book. You chuckled and let a few tears drop from the kindness of all of this.
“And then…” Harry unlocked the Kindle with your birthday as the password, before clicking on the library so you could discover what was waiting for you on your virtual shelves. Harry had downloaded all your most favourite books, whilst also downloading the ones he knew had been on your to-be-read list. He’d even added a few of his favourite books too, just because you liked reading his recommendations.
You smiled, but felt so lost.
“W-why are you here, H?” You asked, closing the lid and bravely looking up into his enchanting eyes. You had to control yourself not to comment on how wondrous they looked.
“To save the day.” He chuckled in repeat, until he knew you weren’t taking that for an answer. “Because I fucked up. Big league time.”
“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your shoes to see that they weren’t that far apart at all. He was so close to you, yet he wasn’t yours to catch.
“And i’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out of that door. The promotion shit with Olivia? Done. I’ve finished. I explained that the movie isn’t as important to me as you. You,” Harry paused to breathe out, and took the risk of guiding your jaw up to meet your gaze with his soft hand, “you are real Y/N. You’re so important and key to my life and it bloody terrified me, still does actually, to think that you make me feel this way. I want everything with you. Marriage, kids, a home. A life. I was so worried I would screw it all up, though, to the point where I did screw it all up. I lost you and so I lost me. It’s selfish of me to ask whether any part of your heart still wants me, but—”
“Yes.” You quickly interjected before he could say something he’d later regret. “There is, yes.”
“R-really?” He stumbled over his response, not expecting you to react so soon but his words had got to you. His feelings were vulnerable and raw and it reminded you of how much you love him and feel safe with him.
“Why? Would you like me to say different.” You teased.
“No,” Harry rushed, stepping closer towards you, “God now. Stay, please. Forever, if you’ll have me?”
“I can deal with forever.” You leaned up to where his lips were, craving the taste of them against yours so badly. “Can I?” You looked between his lips and his eyes, watching his eyes coo in admiration of you. His arms snaked around your neck and cupped the back of your head, resting his ringed fingers against your skin delicately.
“You don’t have to ask, angel.” And with that you didn’t hesitate to reclaim your clips on his. He tasted as sweet and as soft as you could remember. The hint of mint sweets he kept in his car could be tasted all over his mouth, and he could no doubt taste the vodka on yours. He took no time in rushing to have his tongue exploring your mouth once mouth, biting on your lip when he got the chance to. He wanted you to remember this moment and how much love he has for you, and always will. Just as you do for him.
Hesitantly pulling away you smiled at him cheekily, feeling so much lighter and happier to have him here. With you in his arms so expertly.
“What?” He asked, leaving a quick kiss to your nose, inhaling his scent as he did.
“Just can’t believe you’re here.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, and he leaned into your touch so comfortably. He had missed you so damn much, and it showed.
“Let you down once before and I wasn’t going to do it again.”
“So you’d have shown up even if I hadn’t?”
“Not happily, but yes.” He laughed thinking about it.
“Why?” You laughed with him.
“I’ve got to make my impression on your family somehow. Need to remind some of them how amazing and beautiful their special Y/N L/N is.”
“Some are going to need a lot more persuading than others.” You sighed, side-frowning over your words.
“No offence, but anyone who doesn’t treat you as a fucking diamond doesn’t deserve you and should watch out for kick up their backside from me.” You laughed over his empty threat and buried your head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat and rumble of laughter that came from within. This moment alone felt like home. Safe and warm.
“I love you, H.”
“Bloody love you too.”
Harry ended up returning to the wedding with you, much to your mothers surprise, and you both enjoyed the celebrations together. You shut yourselves out from everybody and just danced, talked and drank the night away.
You were so in love.
Later, photos got leaked of the wedding and it showed you and Harry dancing away in one of the backgrounds of the photos. It was supposed to be a shot of just the bride and groom, but you two have managed to get caught in it. You looked so caught up in each other that you still weren’t even aware the photo had been taken. You and Harry had determinedly avoided the camera all night, exactly for this reason, but a part of you was kind of happy that this one photo got leaked, because it showed the world that Harry was yours and you were his. It showed that you were together, or back-together as addressed by some FBI fans, and that you were stronger for it.
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Text
bloodlust ~ jasper hale;twilight
word count: 1754
request?: yes!
“I’m not sure if you do Twilight, but if so can you please write a Jasper Hale x reader where it’s just him coming to terms with his feelings and trying not to push the reader away just cause they’re human. Thank you no matter what love :))”
description: when she thinks he’s avoiding her because he hates her, he has to tell her his biggest secret
pairing: jasper hale x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of death
masterlist (one, two)
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I didn’t understand Bella’s extreme obsession with Edward Cullen after they started dating until Jasper Hale started showing me the same attention.
I had known Jasper since the Cullens moved to Forks. Or rather I knew of Jasper. Much like his adopted siblings, Jasper kept to himself or to the Cullens. It wasn’t until our English teacher paired us together for a project that I finally got to know him.
Despite the whole school knowing that Jasper and Alice were together, I started to notice that the way he looked at me, or the way he treated me, mirrored Edward and Bella’s own romance. And before I knew it, my feelings also mirrored Bella’s.
I felt on top of the world to have the attention of such a beautiful man. I felt unworthy, but at the same time I felt a sense of pride. And overall, I felt strong, romantic feelings for Jasper; feelings I was sure he had for me as well.
Until he started ignoring me suddenly. He wouldn’t talk to me, he changed seats in English class to be further away from me. He wouldn’t even look at me when we were in the same room.
“He hates me,” I said to Jessica as Jasper drifted past me in the lunchroom without acknowledgement once again. “I don’t now why, but that’s the only reason I can think of that he’d be ignoring me.”
“Or Alice has him back on her chain,” Jessica suggested with a shrug.
“He and Alice broke up a while ago, Jess,” Angela pointed out. “Didn’t you know that?”
I laughed as Jessica shook her head. “The great gossip of Forks didn’t know something? Mark the calendar, Angela, this is a historic day.”
Jessica threw her nearly rock hard dinner roll at me.
That evening while I was home alone, a knock came at my front door. Confused, I went to answer. I was shocked to see Jasper stood there, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Jas?” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I owe you an explanation,” he told me. “Care for a drive?”
I followed him to the flashy sports car he drove, one of very few in all of Forks - the others belonging to his siblings. He held the door open for me as I got in. He was in the driver’s seat and had the car started before I even had my seatbelt on.
Jasper’s driving was way too fast, and he was weaving in and out of the cars too carelessly. I was starting to regret my decision to get in his car. One hand was gripping the passenger door so tightly my knuckles were white. Jasper noticed and chuckled.
“Relax, I drive like this all the time,” he assured me.
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I muttered. Jasper chuckled again, which made me slightly annoyed.
After some time, Jasper pulled up to a hiking trail a short ways out of town. I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. He paused, waiting for me to follow. I was starting to feel panicked and wondered why I had decided to go with him. Why had he brought me out here alone? Why hadn’t I told anyone where I was going before I left home?
We walked in silence for a while. I started falling behind, stumbling over the twigs and rocks. At one point I almost fell, but Jasper was quick to steady me.
“I forgot you can’t walk as quickly as I can,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?” I asked, but he had already started walking again.
We came to a clearing where the sun was just peaking through the trees. Jasper paused, looking back at me for a moment. “This is going to look silly for a moment, but know there is something serious underneath it.”
Before I could ask, Jasper stepped into one of the sunny patches. I gasped as his skin lit up like a diamond under light. He looked anywhere but at me, as if afraid to see what my reaction to this was.
I approached him slowly, extending a hand towards him. I poked some exposed skin, wondering if I was about to find out I was dreaming or that Jasper had never been real to begin with. His skin was cold and hard as stone, and I realized in that moment that I had never touched Jasper’s bare skin before.
“What is this?” I asked. “What are you showing me?”
“I heard you talking to Jessica and Angela at lunch today,” he explained, “about whether or not I hated you and if that was why I was avoiding you. But the truth is I was avoiding you for the opposite reason. I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I never could, but I’m dangerous. To you, anyways.”
I stepped back, feeling very uneasy. “What do you mean, Jas?”
“I’m not...human,” he explained. “And I haven’t been for decades. There are many names for what I am, but the most commonly used is vampire.”
I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I was convinced this was some sort of practical joke on me, but I didn’t think any of the Cullens were capable of doing that.
“Are...are all of you...” I started, trying to find my words.
“We are,” he confirmed. “Carlisle found all of us and changed most of us. There’s a very long history about our family. I won’t go into it now, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked him.
Jasper stepped out of the light, his skin almost immediately returning to normal. Every logical part of me was telling me not to let Jasper get closer to me, but at the same time I trusted him. I didn’t think he was going to hurt me, I trusted him not to hurt me.
He reached out for me, but hesitated. Against my better judgement, I stepped forward to let him touch me. His hands were cold against the skin on my exposed arms. His golden eyes looked down into mine and I felt myself subconsciously leaning into his body.
“Because I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for anyone besides Alice before,” he told me. “And I know you feel the same way for me. I tried to distance myself for your safety. I’m still new to living with humans as I was the last to join the Cullen’s lifestyle of just feeding from animals, but I realized that was only hurting you more. I needed to tell you so that you could make your own decision about how you felt for me.”
He was right, it was a lot to take in. I had so many questions, but at the mention of Alice I realized there was one outstanding question I needed answered before we went any further.
“What about you and Alice?” I asked. “You two have been together...I guess basically forever. What made you two decide to break up?”
“Alice, Edward and I all have special powers that we developed after we were changed. Edward can read minds, I can feel and manipulate emotions - which is how I know for sure that you feel the same way for me - and Alice can see the future. She saw many visions that included you - most of which included the two of us in a romantic setting. I told her it would never happen because I loved her so much, but she was so sure I’d love you too. She told me to wait until we were paired up for that project and I’d actually get to know you, then I could make that decision.”
I winced. Knowing that Alice saw visions of her boyfriend falling in love with another woman - a human at that - before Jasper even knew I existed made me feel guilty.
“Was she angry?” I asked, my voice a whisper.
Jasper laughed, a beautiful sound that echoed through the otherwise empty woods. “Not at all. If anything, she was excited. She claims that you two are going to be best friends the way she is with Bella, and she’s very excited to have another female in the family. That is...if you’re still willing to be with me with...what you know now.”
I had to admit, the thought of the person I was in love with being a vampire was terrifying. Not because of the needing to drink blood to live - like I said, I trusted Jasper. If his or any of the Cullens’ desire for blood was a risk, they wouldn’t be living amongst humans. But the thought of growing old while Jasper remained the same age forever, of him eventually not wanting to be with me because of that age difference was terrifying. And the alternative...I didn’t want to consider that right now.
I moved closer to Jasper. He moved his hands to my waist, pulling me so that my body was touching his. Our lips were inches away, and I finally leaned in to close the gap between us.
His lips, much like the rest of his body, were cold, but I felt a sensation when kissing him that I had never felt before. I placed a hand against his face, gently stroking his hard skin as our lips moved perfectly together. His grip around my waist tightened a little, but not enough to hurt me. It felt more like he was making sure I wouldn’t disappear on him.
I pulled away first, resting my forehead against his. “I hope that gives you your answer.”
He smiled and I felt a happy sensation wash over me. I remembered he said he could manipulate the emotions of others and I wondered if his happiness was so strong that it was effecting me as well, or if he wanted me to know how happy he felt.
“We should get you home,” he said. “Your parents will probably be worried sick if they come home and you’re missing.”
“You’re right,” I said. I reluctantly pulled him his grasp, but took his hand in mine as we walked back to the car. “But can you not drive like a maniac on the way home? I’d rather not die of a heart attack in your car.”
Jasper chuckled. “No promises. One thing you have to learn about vampires, we love to go fast.”
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the-last-kenobi · 3 years
Note
If you’re still taking requests (feel no pressure to do this) 14 with Obi-wan and a knight Anakin because that sounds very much like him
A fluff prompt!! I’m so excited, thank you! 🤍
From this various prompts list.
Requests are currently closed.
_
Obi-Wan Kenobi had not slept in three nights, and his Lineage was not happy about it.
Ahsoka and Anakin watched with narrowed eyes from a balcony as the Jedi Master mingled with the crowd, smiling softly at anyone who engaged his attention, keeping close to the side of Chancellor Palpatine and Vice Chair Mas Amedda.
For a man who was running on very little sleep and hardly any sustenance, Obi-Wan was managing to maintain the image of the perfect Jedi — civil, humble, charming, wise. Power concealed just below the surface.
Every so often, Palpatine would draw the Jedi deeper into some conversation or other, or pat him on the shoulder in a strangely paternal fashion.
“Why does he keep doing that?” Ahsoka hissed to her Master. “Master Kenobi hates strangers touching him!”
“The Chancellor isn’t a stranger,” Anakin said defensively. But he watched again as Palpatine settled a hand on his former Master’s arm and saw the slight tension creasing Obi-Wan’s forehead, and had to concede that Obi-Wan was feeling uncomfortable. “But yeah. I don’t think the Chancellor knows, he wouldn’t do it if he did. He’s probably just too used to working with me instead. We’re more like friends.”
Ahsoka raised her eyebrows. “And would he have let you go home by now? We were supposed to be able to leave almost two hours ago.”
Anakin sighed. He leaned on the railing, absentmindedly picking at a carved design in the metal with his mech hand, creating a small clicking noise. He scanned the room again, searching for unlikely threats, and then returned his gaze to his Master and his friend, still penned in the center of a colorful crowd all waiting for attention. To see and be seen. Vultures.
Obi-Wan had more patience for this sort of thing, it was true, but it was apparent to those who knew him well — to Anakin — that he was run ragged. That every new face turning in his direction, awed and pettily delighted by meeting both the Supreme Chancellor and a High Jedi General, was another weight on his shoulders.
Anakin glanced over at his Padawan. Ahsoka’s eyes lit up as she saw the look in his eyes.
“How do you wanna do this?” she asked, tapping her fingers excitedly on the banister. “I know you like explosions, but if you set something off, Master Obi-Wan will definitely have to flee with the Chancellor to safety and then he’ll be gone for ages.”
“You’re right, Snips,” Anakin said, and a smirk pulled at his lips. He ruffled his hair proudly, ignoring Ahsoka’s eye roll, and said, “So I’ll take a leaf from Obi-Wan’s book. I’ll just go right down there and use my words.”
Anakin beamed.
Ahsoka looked as if she suddenly preferred an explosion.
-
“Yes, hi, hello, excuse me, coming through, yep, pardon me, just walking here,” Anakin threw scattered, inane apologies in every direction as he plowed a path right through the entire gala.
Ahsoka trailed in his wake, smiling awkwardly at the people who scattered with startled looks and scowling ferociously at those who dared look cross.
Obi-Wan spotted them first. He was deep in conversation with a representative from the Core, but his blue eyes flickered to them briefly and his smile became slightly taut; he raised one of his hands in what might have passed for a wave but was, to his Padawans, a clear signal to turn around.
Anakin disregarded this subtle warning immediately.
He strolled directly up to Obi-Wan, bowed slightly, and put a hand on the Master’s shoulder, smiling blindingly at the representative. “Good evening. I’m afraid it’s time for Master Kenobi to depart. The Jedi thank you for your time.”
The representative raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
Palpatine, on the other hand, suddenly popped up right beside them, a wide smile on his grandfatherly face. “Anakin, Knight Skywalker, how good to see you! I thought you’d gone home hours ago, why, surely you need your rest after that last campaign.”
Anakin kept a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Ahsoka shifted to stand behind them, smiling a little too widely, the points of her teeth glinting, at anyone who looked at them askance.
“We had quite the victory,” Anakin agreed. He preened slightly. But — “And you’re right, Chancellor, we do need our rest. General Kenobi has served very well, and we’re all eager to rest and prepare for our next deployment.”
Palpatine’s smile widened still further. “Ah, yes. General Kenobi is an incredible public servant, he’s such a delight to have at events such as these.”
This time it was Anakin who tensed slightly. Ahsoka sidled up surreptitiously and linked her arm with Master Obi-Wan’s, flanking him between them, drawn up as tall as she could make herself.
Anakin looked intently at Palpatine, trying to communicate to his friend that now was not the time for politics. He’d thought this would be easy, but the Chancellor seemed determined to keep Kenobi with him all evening. The crowd had begun to disperse, realizing they weren’t going to be receiving any attention for awhile, but they milled about nearby, clearly listening in.
“I—” Obi-Wan began, but Anakin decided to risk his Master’s wrath and just cut him right off.
“And he and I are always happy to be invited by such gracious hosts!” he blurted out quickly. “But sadly, we will have to wait for another invitation before we get the chance to enjoy one another’s company. We really do have to be going.”
Palpatine studied him for a moment.
Go on, Anakin urged him silently. Please. Come on. You know we want to leave.
The silence dragged.
“Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said warmly, turning to Obi-Wan, and Anakin felt a wave of relief. “What do you say? Shall we… let you out of your duties for the sake of your valiant friends?”
Oh, what the fuck?
It had the ring of a joke but was worded like a trap. And Anakin could see, in slow-motion, the flicker of resignation and bitterness deep in Obi-Wan’s blue eyes, just behind the friendly smile, and knew what was about to happen if he didn’t do something about it.
Anakin let out a loud laugh and clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder again. “Sorry, everyone. We’re on a time crunch, we have to get back in time for dessert.”
Ahsoka laughed, too, and clung a little tighter to Obi-Wan’s arm.
Obi-Wan looked somewhere between confused and horror struck.
Palpatine’s smile froze.
Anakin chuckled and waved at the surrounding crowd, shrugging in a you-know-how-it-is sort of way. “Hey, he promised us milkshakes. General I may be, but I still demand my old Master fulfill his promises of unhealthy desserts.”
“Hey, I think out of everyone, I deserve milkshakes the most!” Ahsoka interjected, her tone teasing.
A few of the politicians shot her amused smiles. Ordinarily she would have bristled, but in this instance she just shot them knowing, conspiratorial looks, like a child deliberately making mischief. There was a ripple of laughter.
“I don’t know about that,” Anakin said. “I think I definitely took out the most droids.”
“Riiiight,” said Ashoka. “After I took out the battlement. By myself.”
They ribbed back and forth. The gala was eating it up, their faces amused and indulgent, intrigued by the display of youthful frivolity and friendship the Jedi were giving them. Obi-Wan was still pinned between them, rooted helplessly to the spot.
Anakin looked back at the Chancellor, expecting a smile.
Instead he got a blank expression — which quickly turned into a loud bark of laughter and a grandfatherly grin. He clapped his hands to gain the attention of the crowd and said, “Oh, I believe our brave Hero and his friends have earned themselves a night out for something as innocent and delightful as milkshakes, don’t you say?”
The crowd laughed and nodded; there was scattered applause, and it was done.
Anakin winked at the Chancellor and then turned on the spot, he and Ahsoka striding out the room with Obi-Wan trapped in the middle, waving and bowing at anyone who smiled in their direction.
The three of them escaped out of the ballroom, down the flight of stairs, and out onto the grand balcony overlooking the landing platform, where their ship was waiting in the semi-darkness of the Coruscant night.
Anakin and Ahsoka turned at the same time to look at Obi-Wan, each of them still holding on to one of the Master’s arms.
There was a long silence.
Obi-Wan stared tiredly down at the speeder for a very long time.
Anakin looked at his Padawan nervously.
But then Obi-Wan’s lips twitched beneath his beard, and then he chuckled, and then he burst into uproarious laughter. The sound was infectious; relieved and excited, the other two clung to him and laughed, all of them half-leaning on the railing, cackling like idiots.
They laughed until they ran out of breath, and then laughed a little more.
After a long while, Obi-Wan disentangled his arms from their controlling grips but immediately settled them back, one on Anakin’s shoulder and the other resting on Ahsoka’s back. “I think,” he said, “I promised you milkshakes. Dex’s?”
“Oh, I definitely remember you saying that!” Ahsoka said. “Dex’s is great.”
“Yeah, and you also definitely said you’d pay,” Anakin wheedled.
“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly.
“Awww. Worth a shot,” Anakin whispered to his Padawan.
Obi-Wan smiled. “I said I’d pay for Ahsoka’s. You, my Knighted former Padawan, can pay for your own dessert.”
Ahsoka cheered. Anakin groaned. They strolled off into the night, ambling without haste or urgency or fear, connected by light touches of the hands and arms, and by something deeper and unseen and familial.
There would be time for the war and politics later.
Right now, they were late for dessert.
fin
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makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse
Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.
Today on BnHA: 
youtube
Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 
please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol
(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)
around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh
I love that they just randomly set the place on fire
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was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah
wow it’s a pervert!!
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that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people
oh my god??!
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SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess
so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference
Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that
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“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there
oh shit
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I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge
??
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ahh, was it the security footage??
fdsdfk he’s still alive??
and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying
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very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call
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what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,
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okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise
anyway, so Stain is all,
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PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”
(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)
DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE
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(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)
if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol
blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT
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NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY
“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol
“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you
“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man
for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still
anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside
huh
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okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue
ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though
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boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here
my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair
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no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here
like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people
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that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here
(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.
Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.
speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.
just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)
-- wait, what
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THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild
AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW
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-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um
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yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times
oh, pardon me. three fucking days
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r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap
(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)
damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations
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-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?
wait holy SHIT
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based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff
“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it
wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?
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soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??
omg international heroes
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these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets
(ETA: and it worked too lol.)
WHO??? WHAT???
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don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit
noooooooooooooooooooo
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god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]
on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This
I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys
is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it
this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you
tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol
so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao
(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)
anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol
anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed
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hozierandco · 3 years
Text
Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT
A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.
For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.
Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.
Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.
The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.
"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"
Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.
"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.
"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"
Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.
Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.
The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.
Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.
Or so she thought.
"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.
"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.
"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.
Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.
"Please, let me be your guide"
"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"
"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.
Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.
As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"
It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.
"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.
"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.
"It's a yes, then?"
"Yes, it is"
"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.
"I'm a golf instructor"
"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"
"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"
"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"
Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.
"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"
***
"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.
She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.
Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.
"May I?"
"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.
She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.
"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"
And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.
"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"
"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"
The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.
As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.
Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.
He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"
Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"
As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"
"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"
Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.
"Is she a great teacher to you?"
"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"
Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"
The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.
Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.
They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.
"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"
"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"
"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"
"And you doubt it?"
"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"
After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.
Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.
Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.
With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.
"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"
The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.
"I would let you" Y/N replied.
***
Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.
"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.
"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.
After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.
As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.
He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.
"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.
He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."
Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.
"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.
"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"
"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.
Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.
Gracious God! There was lot to look at...
Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.
"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.
"Never been more sure in my whole life"
Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.
He was just half through when it began to hurt.
"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"
Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.
There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.
As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.
His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.
Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.
The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.
It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.
This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.
"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.
Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"
Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.
"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.
"Come for me, doll!"
She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.
But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.
He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.
"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"
Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.
Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.
In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.
Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.
Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.
She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.
"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"
Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.
Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.
"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.
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Text
All Secrets Have a Habit of Coming Out
Hello all, this was for @iiblueberry-15ii
Hope it's all you wanted from your request :)
Ron Weasley x Male Potter Reader
Word Count: 1464
Just a little note, I only know a cursory amount about Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome, just what a quick google search could reveal so it might not be the most accurate, but I did my best, so I hope this ticks the box for what you wanted @iiblueberry-15ii
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Everyone may have only known his brother's name when they first entered Hogwarts, but Y/n Potter had worked hard to fix that.
He had always been smaller and more frail than his twin brother Harry due to a rare condition that had affected them during pregnancy called Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome.
Essentially an imbalance during development made Harry receive more blood (and thus nutrients) than he gave back.
If this had been explained properly in a caring and loving environment, Harry might not have felt so guilty about it. Unfortunately for the twins, they grew up with their Aunt, Uncle and cousin, all of which took every opportunity to cause them pain. It had been spat at them one day when they were much younger that it was all Harry's fault that his twin brother wasn't as healthy as he was.
This all lead to Harry becoming incredibly overprotective of Y/n. He couldn't take more than two steps outside of Hogwarts during winter without Harry pushing extra scarves and coats into his arms and telling him to rug up more. Guilt was a great motivator, and Harry felt awful that Y/n was weaker than him physically.
Y/n couldn't play quidditch either because his lungs had suffered during development as well.
Y/n had, in his lower moments, like when his older brother (by like ten minutes Harry!) won a game of quidditch, or came back from some fantastic adventure that he had forbidden him from joining them on, allowed the hate to take root just that little bit more.
But he would wake up the next morning and realise that it couldn't possibly be his brothers fault. It was just an accident of life that this had happened.
He would be reminded in every class that there were some things that he could do that Harry just couldn't. His brother might be naturally talented with power for his magic, but as his favourite saying played through his head he would think about that instead. Hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard.
Y/n truly shone in classes too. He worked just as hard as Hermione at his studies, and it paid off. Often, when they got back essays or test results they were the top two in the class.
This naturally made the two a lot closer, as they were practically a built in study buddy for the other.
As they were getting older and reaching the age that people started to notice the other gender (or their own in Y/n's case) other guys would come up and ask him about Hermione.
-------------
Y/n couldn't believe the stupidity of his own gender sometimes. That had been the forth time today that he had had to fend off another guy who only wanted to get into the female bookworms pants while getting their homework done for free.
He stormed back into the Gryffindor common room in a huff.
He landed with a thump on the couch beside Ron and pouted.
"Guys suck."
Ron looked up from his homework which was looking rather untouched.
"I could do with a break anyway, been at this near five minutes. What's up Y/n?"
He sat back up closer to the other boy, giving him his full attention.
Ron wasn't sure what it was about Y/n, but there was just something that made him want to spend all day staring at him, or listening to him talk about the things that made him get all excited. He made the cutest faces when he got all worked up, eyes shining brighter than any star in the sky.
Okay, so he knew why he felt that way, heck, he had even acted on it. He still couldn't believe his luck when Y/n had agreed to go on a date with him. Of course they had had to pull off some pretty fast talking to get their friends to stay behind without it seeming like they wanted to be alone.
Ron focused back in just in time to see Y/n narrow his eyes at him.
Oops, he had noticed that he wasn't paying attention to him.
Ron cringed slightly.
"Sorry, was just thinking."
He cast a furtive look around the room, but they were pretty much alone right now. He was sure that wouldn't last.
Y/n just looked curious now.
"About what?"
Ron shifted awkwardly. Feelings weren't really his forte.
"About how I must've used up all the luck I had stored up for the next few years just to get you to agree to go out with me."
Ron sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, knowing that he was blushing.
Y/n was blushing when Ron had managed to gather up enough courage to look over at him.
They went to move closer, but their moment was ruined by the portrait entrance slamming open to let in some other Gryffindors.
"Later?"
"Later."
-------------
Y/n and Ron had stayed up much later than anyone else. It wasn't unusual for Y/n, but Ron knew the only way it wouldn't look suspicious for him to stay up was to pretend to be engrossed in a game of chess. He had thought of his homework at first, but then realised that he was usually the first one to give up, so working on it for hours unprovoked would be almost more suspicious than anything else he could come up with.
By the time that midnight rolled around Y/n and Ron had been alone in the common room for just under an hour. In that time they hadn't moved closer. They didn't want to risk it when people might still be remembering that one last thing they had accidentally left in the common room. Nothing said guilty like two teenagers springing apart as someone comes down the stairs.
It was Y/n who made the call. He stretched and shoved his book into the bag before moving over to the couch.
Ron could take a hint, no matter what anyone said, and followed Y/n over.
They sat looking at each other for a minute, just taking the other in.
"It's pretty exhausting hiding this, huh?"
"Yeah," Ron answered. "I sort of thought it might be kind of fun, but it's mostly just tiring. Can't really enjoy spending time together when we're constantly looking over our shoulders."
Y/n gave a half smile.
"Still worth it?"
Ron grinned back and reached out for Y/n instead of answering.
"Can I kiss you?"
Y/n nodded too fast and almost fell over.
Their lips met while they were both still laughing.
They didn't keep laughing for long. It had been a long week for them both, and they hadn't had very much time alone lately.
Things were just about to get more heated when they heard a noise from behind the couch.
They froze, still looking into each others eyes, then they pulled away from each other faster than either of them had ever moved before.
"Yeah, bit late for that really."
Neither of them had hear Harry's voice sound so cold.
Y/n turned to face his brother who had apparently walked in on them making out.
Well, at least everyone was just as embarrassed as each other judging by the blush on Harry's face.
Ron and Y/n watched Harry silently from opposite edges of the couch.
Harry clenched his jaw several times before seeming to try to calm himself.
"Ron. A word."
Y/n cringed. Well, it had been nice knowing Ron, but Y/n was pretty sure he would be helping to bury his body soon.
Y/n watched as Ron and Harry made their way over to one of the windows. He pouted, he couldn't hear anything from where he was. He sat back and crossed his arms as he waited for Harry to come back and deal with him.
-----------
Harry was so far past mad he didn't have a word for it anymore.
His little brother, who was smaller and just generally more frail, was apparently down here making out with Ron.
What the hell were they thinking?
And hiding it, Harry was sure neither of them had been thinking properly.
"What exactly did you think you were doing with Y/n?"
He stated each word as clearly and calmly as he could, but he could still hear his voice shaking in his rage.
He waited for Ron to start explaining himself, but just as he opened his mouth, Harry decided he didn't much care what he had to say.
"Look, I think it was pretty obvious what you two were doing, but let me just say, as Y/n's older brother and the only member of his family who cares about him, if you ever do anything to hurt him. Well, I'll show you exactly why I'm considered a threat to Voldemort."
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neoncrowpen · 3 years
Note
Hey Crow, can you write male reader as Tommy's son? not Charles, but maybe his older brother or an only child? Whatever works for you. We know that Tommy was more openly affectionate while Grace was alive, attentive too, but after she died (and I'm referring to his conversation with Charlie inside the wagon after Johnny Dogs took them to Wales) he shut himself off, and buries himself in his work, though he is still calm and warm towards Charlie in the scenes we've seen so far (+his bad health in S5.) That makes me think about reader wanting to spend more time with him especially after his marriage to Lizzie and the birth of Ruby; but then Tommy becomes a politician. Which brings me to this request - what do you think about reader breaking into Tommy's office in the House of Commons, hoping to get some of his attention but it backfires? Tommy yells at him instead and reader tries to explain himself but Tommy wouldn't hear it. I just really need some angry Tommy/dad Tommy content and I really enjoy your portrayal of him in my first two requests. I hope that this one is okay, too.
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As you sped off in a good sprint, you thought of your uncle Finn. He had driven you into the city after you lied to him about ‘wanting to spend time with your favorite uncle’. Either you were taking on more of your stepmother’s traits or Finn was the dumbest Shelby in the family. It didn’t matter in the end. You got to exactly where you wanted to be.
You had been studying London city maps for a while and it paid off. Funny how maps worked and told anyone where everything was. It was a new concept that delighted you. Your father would be so proud that you got here all by yourself. Trouble was, how to get inside.
“I’m a Shelby,” you told yourself. “And I can do anything.” You eyed the alley to the side, noting a delivery man loading a cart with food and tea items. Bingo. You easily crawled underneath, stowing away. As your plan worked, a rush of excitement ran through you. The delivery man wheeled the cart inside without noticing his extra cargo. However, you only got as far as a storage room. You watched an aide load a different tea cart.
Dad took tea. He took tea often. It was a good, calculated risk, you thought. When the aide was turned around, you crawled into the second cart. You tucked yourself even further as the aide placed more tea cups underneath the cart. You kept your sigh of relief to yourself as the second cart started to roll down the hallway. You tugged back the thick, white tablecloth to read the office names. Williams. No. Baskins. No. Dick Johnson? You snickered, still no.
And there it was. Thomas Shelby, MP.
Yes.
The aide slowed the cart pass your father’s office. After making sure the coast was clear, you rolled yourself out. The lockpick kit you lifted from Finn earlier proved useful now. It wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. At first, you had the tools all switched around. Then, a few people walked by, and you his yourself behind the second cart again. Frustration started to give you a decent headache until you heard a satisfying click.
“Just wait till Dad sees me,” you snuck inside, leaving the door wide open. “He’s going to be so surprised!” The office was much smaller than you thought. Your dad’s office back home was twice the size. Dusty books and boring colors didn’t capture your attention. The windows didn’t have any curtains to hide behind, so all gray daylight streamed into the room. No secret passageways or nonsense here. You scrambled underneath your father’s desk once you heard oncoming footsteps.
Ah, a perfect place to surprise him. This plan was your best yet. Everything was going so well! You couldn’t wait for your father to come in. He would be so proud of you and your cleverness. This definitely warranted a good reward. Ice cream? A tour of the building? It didn’t matter. All you really wanted was for your dad to tell you how clever you were and smile at you.
You couldn’t remember the last time he did smile at you.
A set of familiar footsteps stopped in the doorway. You heard the distinct sound of a gun clicking into place. It was subtle, but you knew the sound. Last month, your father taught you how to use a gun and why it wasn’t a toy. Your excitement couldn’t be contained much longer. You jumped out from underneath the desk with your hands raised.
“Papa! It’s me! Look! I made it all the way here!” you shouted. As your eyes adjusted to the daylight again, you were not greeted with your father’s smile. Instead, Thomas’ breath hitched, his grip tightened.
“What the hell, Y/N? You nearly fucking—what are you doing here?” Thomas berated you. His hand immediately closed the office door behind him. Your face started to fall.
“I was reading the map of London and I figured how to get here,” you gave him your proudest smile. “And now that I’m here, we can spend the whole day together! Isn’t it great?” You waited for your father to congratulate you. Thomas grabbed the scruff your shirt collar and forced you into one of his office chairs. You winced at his grip. He never grabbed you like that before.
“You’re supposed to be at school.” He sounded angrier than you thought he would be.
“Uncle Finn took me out. I tricked him! You’re right. He is the dumbest Shelby,” you laughed. When your father didn’t laugh with you, yours faded. His eyes glared down at you.
“And did you stop to think that this was a good idea?” His question cut into you. When you didn’t answer right away, he shook your chair, startling you. Why was he so angry? You made a good plan and you executed it perfectly.
“I just missed you,” you admitted. “I never see you anymore.” Hurt flashed in your father’s eyes. You watched him exhale a long breath except no cigarette smoke came out of his mouth. Thomas tucked the gun away. He walked towards his desk.
“I could’ve seriously hurt you. Guns are not a toy, remember?”
“I remember. But, you wouldn’t hurt me.” You mustered a different smile this time. It didn’t matter if your plan was clever or not. You could just settle with being here with him. Thomas dialed the phone on his desk. A new excitement made your heart beat faster. “Are you going to order tea for us?”
“No,” Thomas flatly told you. “You’re going back to school where you belong.”
“What? No,” you shook you head. You jumped out of the chair and rushed towards his side. Your hands grabbed his suit jacket. If you could just hold him really tight, like you did when you were younger, maybe he’ll understand. “I want to be here with you.”
Thomas pulled you off. “This isn’t the place for children.”
“But—
“Stop this right now, and listen to me.” You looked up. This was not your father. This was wrath. His tone felt like a knife sinking into your chest. “You may think this was a clever thing to do, but you’re wrong. This is, by far, the dumbest thing you have ever done. What if someone hurt you? Grabbed you? Would you like that? For a stranger to come and grab you and take you away?”
“No,” your voice broke. You bit your lip down hard. You heard someone knock at the door. An aide tucked their head inside.
“Afternoon, Oswald. If you could please wait with my son outside, his uncle will be by to take him back to school soon.” Thomas bent down to you. He gripped your wrist as if he was hurting you on purpose. “You will not do this again. You hear me?” You nodded. “Say you’re not going to do something stupid like this again.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid ever again.” Your eyes more drawn to the floor than to the man in front of you. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
As the aide guided you out of Thomas’ office, you went over the plan in your head again. Every single thing you did was thought-out. Every move was deliberate. None of it worked. You glanced back at your father. He ran his hand down his face. The same frown you had gotten used to hardened on his face.
This was your fault. You resolved that he would never smile at you again.
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To Die For (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)
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Hello! It is with great joy and a little bit of sadness that I present you all with the final part of “Love Goes”. This part in particular is inspired by Sam Smith’s “To Die For”. Pieces from Endgame are used but very little. 
Summary: The aftermath of Endgame, how will Wanda navigate and what will happen to Y/n. 
“I long for you, just a touch of your hand. You don't leave my mind. Lonely days I'm feeling like a fool for dreaming… Sunshine living on a perfect day while my world's crashing down.”
Hope. That was all Wanda had left. She knew that she couldn’t let it waver for even a moment. Allowing the hope within her to waver would be the same as accepting defeat. Accepting that you weren’t coming back. That was something she would never allow herself to believe. 
Like you told her, you and her were a happy ending. It’s the only ending she could ever envision for herself. The only life she wanted. The only life she’d accept. You and her. Together. Happily.
It had only been a week since the fateful battle and you had been transferred to a S.W.O.R.D. facility since. What worried Wanda most was that you still hadn’t woken up and hadn’t shown much progression since arriving. 
She could still feel you though. 
Wanda would allow herself glimpses into your mind and could see the vibrancy that still existed within. Your heart was still beating, and your mind was still your own. Even if you weren’t awake, you were still you.
The thought brought comfort to Wanda despite the circumstances. It kept hope alive in her heart.
It was only a matter of time until you were awake and in her arms again. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. 
The situation could have been worse though and she knew that. Shortly after you were transferred to the facility she learned the full details of how exactly Thanos was defeated. How Tony and Natasha had given their lives in exchange for the outcome. As much as the news saddened her, she couldn’t help but feel a selfish sense of relief that you hadn’t been dealt the same fate. 
Her life – her heart - felt as though it was hanging in the balance. You were all she had. All she wanted. If she lost you she knew there would be no recovery for her. She’d drown. Sink to the bottom with no chance of resurfacing if you weren’t there to pull her back up. 
The warmth of your hand in her own anchored her. It always did, but not as much as being in your arms, or hearing your voice. “I’m drowning.” She whispered against your hand. “I’m drowning, Y/n. I need to hear your voice, see you open your eyes, and have you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m drowning, and you can’t save me until you wake up.” Her lips trembled slightly against your hand as a single tear fell down her cheek.
The days and nights had blurred together for her. Both of which were spent unwaveringly at your side. The only disruptions often came in the form of varying people in the facility checking your vitals or injecting new medications into your IV that they informed her should wake you up soon. 
Besides the worry and fear she constantly felt, there was a sense of bitterness that the only one who had come to see you or her during your time in the facility was Fury. That was only when you were still at S.H.I.E.L.D’s location. It was upsetting to her that Steve had yet to visit you considering the history you two shared and how close you two had always been. Considering how you had been willing to risk your life for him on multiple occasions. 
Today was Tony’s funeral and she was reluctantly leaving your side to pay her respects for a short while. Also, to give Rogers a piece of her mind.
When the funeral concluded she wandered over to the lake to collect her thoughts and emotions. Taking in the beautiful day around her, a stark contrast to how she felt internally. The perfect day felt wrong when it still felt like her world was crashing down within her. 
As she was staring out the lake, preparing herself for what she wanted to tell Steve, Clint walked up to her. “Hey, kid.” 
Wanda kept a neutral face and merely nodded at him. “Hello.”
There was hesitation in the way Clint stopped at her side. “You have every right to not want to talk to me right now.” He began seriously, his head ducked shamefully. “I wanted to go visit Y/n… Check on you. I did. I just-… It’s been hard accepting that Nat’s gone, you know? It’s not an excuse for not being there. It’s just where my head was. I’m sorry, Wanda.” 
As much as Wanda wanted to ignore him, she knew she couldn’t. “I understand.” She replied softly, her gaze still on the lake before her. 
“I wish there was a way that I could let her know that we won. That we did it.” Clint admitted quietly to her.
Wanda shifted her gaze to him. “She knows.” There was a small pause. “They both do.” Despite not being awake, she liked to believe that you knew.
Clint wrapped a comforting arm around her and she leaned into the embrace. 
“Wanda.” A somber voice caught her attention as she turned to find Steve standing there with his hands folded behind his back. “A word?”
Clearly not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Clint stepped back. “I think that’s my cue to go.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Wanda’s head. “I’ll do better, okay? Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be by to visit Y/n soon.” Wanda nodded slightly at his words as he walked away. 
When Clint was out of the vicinity, Steve stepped into his place. Wanda’s jaw clenched. She was more upset at him than anyone. She knew if roles were reversed you would have been uncompromisingly by his side.
“What do you want?” She asked, her tone cold.
Steve’s face remained neutral despite her tone. “How is she?”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips at his question. “How is she?” she shook her head in disbelief. “You have a lot of nerve asking that when you’ve had a whole week to go see for yourself.”
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Look, Wanda, I understand you’re upset with me but I-“
Wanda rounded on him, her eyes livid. “Upset? I am far passed upset, Rogers. I’m furious. Y/n needed you and you abandon her. She would have done anything for you! She idolized you!”
Each of Wanda’s words impacted Steve, she could see that, but she didn’t stop. He took it. “She thought you were her family and you couldn’t even be bothered to go see for yourself if she’s okay! You don’t even care-“
“Enough! That’s not true!” Steve roared. The accusation that he didn’t care seemingly being the final straw. Wanda recoiled in surprise. “I feel guilty, okay? I feel like the only reason that she’s in there in the first place is because of me. I couldn’t face her. I didn’t deserve to.” His volume didn’t lower as the emotions he was holding in finally boiled over. 
“You know she wouldn’t have blamed you.” Wanda eventually replied, her tone still clipped.
Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “I know, but I do. I blame myself. She was trying to protect me, and she only felt like she had to protect me because I couldn’t stop him the first time. She got hurt because I couldn’t get to her fast enough. She’s my family too.” 
As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she found it much more difficult when she learned of the guilt that seemed to be weighing heavily on him. “You know Y/n would have done that either way.” She confessed quietly. “She would have tried to stop him regardless of who she was defending. That’s who she is.”
A weak nod was his only response. Wanda wasn’t sure if he believed her. “How has she been?” Steve repeated, hoping for a genuine answer this time.
“She still hasn’t woken up.” Wanda began unsteadily. “They keep injecting her with new serums everyday saying that each one will wake her up, but it never does.”
Steve closed his eyes at the information, his expression distressed for just a moment until he schooled his features and put on a brave face for Wanda. ���She’s going to wake up. I know she will.” 
Hearing the words she had been telling herself from someone else brought Wanda a small sense of comfort. “I know she will too.” She turned to him. “I’m going to get back to her now, she needs me. Go see her.” 
“I will.” He nodded firmly, his words definitive. “I have to return the stones in an hour and try and see if I can undo something. As soon as I do that I’ll be immovably by her side. I’ll stay with you until she wakes up. You have my word. She has my word.” There was purpose in his voice. 
Wanda quirked her lips up slightly at him and nodded without a word. She knew he meant what he said. She walked off to her car to begin the drive back to S.W.O.R.D’s medical branch of the facility. ___________________ Her heart dropped when she entered your room, only to be met with an empty bed. On numb legs, she ran out and stopped the first worker she saw. “Y/n Y/ln. Where is she? She was here just an hour ago.” 
The employee looked around nervously. “She’s been moved. I believe it would be in your best interest to speak to the director.”
Wanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The director? Why?”
“His office is located on the second floor, third door on the left.” The employee informed her meekly before scurrying away. 
Practically running, Wanda reached the office in minutes, throwing the door open. “Ms. Maximoff.” The man who she presumed to be the director greeted her, an unnerving smile on his face.
“Where is she?” Wanda demanded, not caring about anything other than being reunited with you. “Is-is she okay?” Anxiety began to build within her and press against her chest making it harder for her to breath. Her nails dug into her palms.
The man gestured for her to sit in an empty chair, she ignored the request. “My name is Tyler Hayward. I am the director of S.W.O.R.D.”
Wanda merely stared blankly back at him, her jaw clenched tightly. “Where. Is. Y/n?” She enunciated sharply, her patience fading. 
The unnerving smile never faltered on Hayward’s face. “That is the unfortunate part, Ms. Maximoff. You see, while you were gone Ms. Y/ln suffered from some brain hemorrhaging. We were able to stop it, but it seems her brain has suffered an extensive amount of damage. We ran some tests and it appears she has lost all cognitive function. She is just a shell now. She only has another day or two at best. I’m sorry.”
Wanda’s world stopped at his words. She immediately shook her head. “That’s not true.” She said shakily as tears began streaming down her cheeks, the weight on her chest getting heavier, forcing her under. She couldn’t breathe. “That’s not true. Let me see her.” 
Hayward gestured forward to the large window in his office. “They’re running some tests on her now, but so far the data has remained conclusive. There is no longer brain function.” Numbly Wanda walked up to the large window and glanced down, feeling the life drain from her at the sight of you. Pale and on what looked like an experimentation table, surrounded by several S.W.O.R.D. scientists.  “I’m afraid it’s time to start talking about letting her go.”
Wanda spun around to face him angrily. “Let her go?” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s all I have.”
Hayward held his hands up slightly. “It’s only a matter of days before she’s unable to breathe on her own and her heart stops being.”
Empty. That’s what she felt at his words. She wanted to scream. Her powers reacted to the emotion she was feeling before her mind did as the glass she was leaning on shattered. Without hesitation she floated down to where you were. Her heart hammering in her chest the closer she got. 
The world around her went dark and the only sight she was able to take in was the way your chest weakly rose and fell with each breath. With shaking hands, she raised them to your temple as feeble wisps of red floated from her fingertips and disappeared into your mind. 
All she saw was darkness. 
“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover. Then everything went dark around her. ________________________________
“Darling, have you seen my notebook? I’m running late for my meeting with my editor and I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” You questioned hastily as you rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the entry way. Looking around the area with a frazzled expression on your face.
Wanda looked over from her place by the stove and waved her hand, the notebook floating from under your arm to directly in front of your face. “You mean this one, dear?” She asked with an amused smile. 
Sheepishly you plucked the notebook out of the air as you made your way over to her. “What would I do without you?” You leaned forward so your lips rested gently against her own.
“Mmm,” Wanda mumbled with a smile as she spoke against your lips. Her arms resting comfortably over your shoulders. “I believe your mind would fail you, sweetheart.”
Your hands fell to her waist as you pulled her closer. “That’s for certain.” You replied easily with a loving smile. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
A small blush spread over her cheeks. “You have not but thank you. You look beautiful as well, darling. I’m beginning to get jealous that your editor gets to spend the day in your presence. Speaking of…” she trailed off and glanced pointedly at the clock.
“My meeting!” Your eyes widened as you pressed one last loving kiss to her lips. “I’ll be going now. I love you, darling. I’ll be home soon!” You shouted as you began running out. 
Wanda shook her head at you, the smile on her face never faltering. “I love you, too, dear!” She called after you, pretending to catch the kiss you blew to her as you rushed out the door. She sighed happily and leaned against the wall of the kitchen. 
The end.
 . . . . . .
“Glad you were able to make it, Rogers.” Fury said seriously as he shook Steve’s hand. “And Ms. Romanoff. Welcome back.” He shook her hand as well. 
Steve nodded easily in response. “Of course. You know that I’d be here in a heartbeat for Y/n. Wanda as well.” Both followed Fury into a large make-shift tent located in the woods. 
“What exactly are we dealing with?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her words.
For a moment Fury seemed to ponder her question. “We’re not entirely sure.”
“Does Wanda even know that she saved Y/n? That she was never gone?” Steve questioned seriously, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen before him. 
Fury shook his head. “No. It seems Hayward convinced Wanda that Y/n was gone, no brain function. What Wanda didn’t know was he had gone rogue. Every serum they injected in Y/n kept her in her comatose state rather than attempt to wake her up like they were telling Wanda. I’ve looked at the files that my inside contacts gave me, and it seems Y/n should have been up in the first day or two to recover from minor brain swelling.”
“Why are they doing this though?” Natasha questioned as she looked over the chart. Steve’s jaw was clenched as he listened to each detail.
Taking the chart from Natasha, Fury turned the pages until he found what he was looking for and handed it back to Natasha. “Right there. It seems that Y/n carries a rare mutant gene that they could extract and essentially build an army with. They believed that if they removed Wanda from the picture they could continue the experiments and eventually wipe Y/n’s memory to use her as a weapon. Turn her into a super solider… but much worse because of her powers.” There was an edge to his tone. “They are very interested in her ability to manipulate earth and metal. They had considered Wanda briefly as well, but the perfect opportunity presented itself with Y/n. That’s why they insisted on her transfer to their facility.” 
“How do we get them back before Hayward gets to them?” Steve questioned quietly, a dangerous tone to his voice.
Instead of answering Fury gestured to the woman who had been sitting and listening to the conversation. “Wanda isn’t letting anyone with ties to your past in. Fury already tried. She won’t let you or Natasha in.” They both stared at her. “I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry, my name is Darcy Lewis. Astrophysics. Big fan.” The bespectacled woman rambled. 
Natasha smirked, an amused glint in her eye. “Okay, Darcy Lewis, what’s our next step?”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Steve finished powerfully as they all watched you and Wanda share a sweet kiss before the credits began to roll on the screen before them.
Well, that’s all folks! 13 parts completed! It’s been a journey writing this and it is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. This story has become my baby and it always brings me so much joy to read your comments and seeing others enjoy it. I had a plan for this chapter since the moment I began writing this story but it was so hard when it came down to writing because of the most recent episode of Wandavision, so I tweaked it a little. Was it a sadder or happier ending? You may never know. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed. 
As always, thoughts and comments always welcome. :)
p.s. I brought back Steve and Nat but I couldn’t figure out how to make Tony surviving make sense or fit the story, sorry. Still love Tony. 
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slutforagoodsmut · 3 years
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Imagine: Dracula’s daughter
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She had always been a daddy’s girl, that was certain. Since she was an infant she was attached to him by the hip, always followed him around the castle, always found him fascinating. Of course she loved her mother and Alucard as well. Days her father was busy she’d stay in her mother’s laboratory, watching Lisa mix medicines and asking questions.
“What is this?” she’d ask, barely able to look over the table. Her mother would only laugh and pick her up, sitting her down on the smooth slab of her work space. 
“This is a new medicine I’m working on. It will help sick people become strong and healthy, just like you!” Lisa would poke her daughter’s tummy and the little dhampir girl would squirm in a fit of giggles. She loved her mother, she looked up to her.
Her and her brother always found things to do around the castle, painting and writing poetry, playing tag or hide and seek, which Alucard always won for some odd reason. 
“You cheated!” she whined, crossing her arms. 
“I did not!” Alucard stuck his tongue out at his sister. “I’m just older and faster than you!”
“By a minute! You are older by a minute!” 
And at the end of the day, the young dhampir would always find herself in her father’s study, reading a book beside him or begging him to read to her. She’d always end up falling asleep in his lap and he’d carry her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. He loved her, he loved his little girl with all his undead heart. Of course there was Lisa, the love of his life, and he did love his children equally, but she always had a special place in his heart.
As the years went on, the girl blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She had long, onyx locks like her father and a sharp tongue like her mother. She was snarky and always had something to say, but she was kind and she was loving, and she had such a big heart full of passion and wonder. She wanted to help others just like her mother, often visited houses of the ones who Lisa was close to and aided her mother if she needed it. Alucard and her loved to duel one another, and she made sure she always won. They picked on each other and instigated but it was all out of great fun. The princess took long walks with her father at night and he told her about his new discoveries between vampires and humans, and her being her, was always fascinated and wanted to know more. 
Like Alucard and her mother, she had the privilege of stepping out into sunlight without a problem. She grew her fangs in before her brother when she was a small infant, which to this day she enjoys hanging over his head. She was tall and strong, and very fast, as well as very skilled with a sword. She had long nails she could extend and retract and could turn into animals, making it easier to stalk her prey at night. 
Everything was....perfect, you might say. Her life was perfect, sure she lacked friends but she had a wonderful home and a loving family that she could depend on. 
That all changed after that horrific night in 1475. When Lisa Tepes was killed everything crumbled to dust. The love in the castle had disappeared, it was so cold and dark and stunk of misery. 
She grew strained from her father once Alucard had left home. She didn’t want him to go and he didn’t want to leave her, but they both knew it was for the best. 
In a year, it was almost like two complete strangers shared a home. Dracula made no effort to connect with his daughter as he was so caught up with damning the whole world to hell, and in that time his daughter pushed him away. She barely spoke with him, didn’t even attempt to at this point. He was so angry, so angry with the world and with everyone in it. Lisa wouldn’t have wanted this, her children knew that. Their mother was a part of the human race, mortality ran through the children’s blood. They were a part of them, and their father wanted to burn them all. 
She grew angrier and angrier with her father as the dreadful days passed on. He let these other vampires into their home and they did whatever they wanted! And what did he do, wallow away into nothing in his library, sitting in front of the fireplace every single day! Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! 
One day, she had enough. Dracula’s daughter couldn’t stand a single day more in that castle, enraged with her father she planned to leave. She considered leaving without telling him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, with a satchel over her shoulder holding her most valuable things, she walked into her father’s library. The back of his chair was to her, and yes, he stared into his fireplace like he always had. 
“I’m leaving.” she spoke up, gripping the strap of her bag. Nothing, he didn’t say a word, he didn’t even move a muscle in his seat. His daughter only sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she turned away. “Goodbye, father.”
Part of her never wanted to see him ever again. Part of her wanted nothing more to do with her father, but she knew deep down their paths would cross again, and she’d end up in that castle once more. 
She was alone, really alone this time, she had no one to turn to, she kept her distance from strangers and if they gave her trouble she’d risk the danger and bear her fangs, making them all run away in fear. The one night, one fateful night, she had run into her brother and two others who accompanied him. She was running through the woods as night creatures attacked, she’d slaughtered as many as she could, but they were closing in on her. In that moment she felt powerless till three beings came out of the thick woods and ended the monsters’ rampage.
“Alucard?” she whispered, leaning herself against a tree, holding her side which bled a concerningly amount. 
He gasped, his eyes widened with shock as he looked at his dear sister. “Sister?”
“You have a sister?” The strange woman spoke up in her thick accent. 
“Oh god, not another one of you....” A tall dark haired man grumbled, slapping his hand over his face. 
Alucard’s sister ran over to him and threw her arms around him as hard as she could. She couldn’t believe it. She had so many questions. How was he here? Why wasn’t he underground like he said he’d be? Who were these people? 
Overtime, these questions were answered. The woman was a speaker, her name was Sypha, and that other oaf of a man was a Belmont, Trevor Belmont, a vampire’s sworn enemy. She thought they died off years ago, but never mind that. Her brother had woken from his year of slumber when the two of them accidentally found him (more so Trevor than Sypha) and asked if he’d help them in their quest.
“We’re going to the castle...” Alucard spoke softly. His sister sat across from him, staring quietly into the fire they had made. She wasn’t stupid, she could put the puzzle pieces together. They were going there to end Dracula’s terror for once and for all. Her heart broke, just like it had before. She had to come to terms with killing their father, it was such a painful thing to imagine but...if that meant millions and millions of people would survive, then so be it. 
“It just hurts, ya’know? I mean, how could anyone go through with the idea of murdering their father?”
“He’s not our father, not anymore at least.”
Alucard was right, she hated to admit it. That monster conducting all of this genocide wasn’t their father. Their father was loving and caring, and this man....wasn’t any of that. The king of darkness was blinded by a rage and there was no looking back. Their father died when Lisa Tepes took her last breath. 
One by one, she slit the throats of dozens. Striking her sword through vampire soldiers, beheading the generals who held councils in her very home, the ones who practically took her home away from her. Was it truly still her home, she couldn’t tell, all she knew it as now was Vlad Dracula’s hideout, nothing more. She would get her revenge on every last one of them, her fists driving through their chests and yanking out their still beating hearts, crushing them in her palms. How dare they mock her home as if it were their own little sanctuary. How dare they. 
“Alucard--you, Belmont and Sypha fight off those night creatures! I’m going to find our father!” She yelled as she climbed the steps. 
Alucard impaled a night creature “Be careful! He’ll hurt you!” 
But she was already down the hall and up the steps to her father’s library. Millions of thoughts ran through her mind. The guilt of it all, having to go through an act that would be considered unspeakable under God’s law. Half vampire or not, she knew she’d be damned to hell in the end. 
She took in a few breaths before peeking in. Her father, to her surprise, was not slumped in his chair but standing, he grabbed one of his forgemasters, Isaac, and threw him through his mirror. Isaac let out a scream and the mirror broke into pieces, falling on the ground. 
“Father.” She spoke, walking into the room. Dracula tensed up, turning his body towards the door, bearing his fangs. 
“My child, the betrayer.”
Her chest tightened, eyes wide. Betrayer? He thinks she betrayed him?
“I did no such thing.” 
“Lies!” He snapped, his eyes blood red. “You walked out of this castle and turned your back on your own father!” 
“Well you had already turned your back on me!” She screamed at him. “You didn’t try to make me stay! You didn’t even attempt to!”
“I knew what side you were on from the beginning. You were a lost cause.” Dracula’s voice was cold and harsh. 
Tears sprouted at the corner of her eyes. “How could you even say that?! You act like you were the only one who lost someone!” 
Dracula turned away from his daughter, seething with anger. 
“You weren’t there! You were never there! All you’ve done was cause havoc!” 
“I did it all for her!” Dracula roared, whipping around and towering his large body over hers. 
“And look where that got you!” She bellowed back at him, eyes now blood red as tears streamed down her face. “Look where that got you. You pushed Alucard away, you pushed me away. Mother would never--” Her body was thrown across the room and she hit the bookshelf, falling to the ground. She wheezed out, coughing out blood. He struck her. He...struck her. Her vision was foggy, but she could make out her father standing on the other side of the room. She tried to stand up but she couldn’t, her body didn’t let her. Again she tried, but she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t had blood in such a long time, she’s grown too weak. Why she didn’t consider that going into this mess she doesn’t know, but it was a stupid mistake. Suddenly her world went dark, and she laid unconscious on the ground. 
It wasn’t too long till she had woken up from her spot, her father no longer in the library. She could hear screaming from above her. She gasped, getting up as quick as she could and stumbling over herself. Alucard. 
She ran and ran, going up another floor, and then another. The dhampir suddenly collided with Sypha and Belmont. 
“You’re alright!” Sypha exclaimed. 
“Where is he!? Where is Alucard?!”
“Upstairs, with Dracula!” 
Her vampire senses tingled. His room. They were in Alucard’s old room. She bolted up the floors and down the hall. They were screaming, things were being shattered, she could feel the whole castle shake beneath her feet. 
Alucard was thrown against the wall, their father closing in on him, ready to finish the job. 
“ENOUGH!” His sister shrieked at the top of her lungs, stepping in between them.  Her father stopped in his tracks. 
There she stood, sword in both hands, pointing the tip against her own chest. 
“What--What are you doing?!” Dracula bellowed. 
Alucard shook his head, fear in his eyes. “No, don’t do it!” 
“I’d rather kill myself than live in this world with you, you monster!” 
With that, somehow Dracula had come to his senses. The night filled the room, the moonlight shining in through the window. Dracula gasped, his eyes no longer flaming with hatred, but filled with sadness. His daughter kept the sword where it was and she began to cry, hard, endless tears rushing down her pale face. 
“Look what you’ve done father...” She sobbed, hands trembling. 
Dracula stared at her, then at her brother, then finally his hands. “What am I doing? I....” he choked on his words. “My children, my son and daughter. I’m killing them Lisa. I’m killing our children.” He walked over to a painting that hung on the wall. It was of all of them; Dracula and Lisa, both holding their bundles of joy. He looked at his children again and truly realized how much hurt he’s caused them. How much pain he’s caused his daughter. She mourned in their home, alone, while he selfishly sought out revenge. “My daughter would rather end her life than live in a world with her father.” he looked at her, tears now running from his eyes, “These are the walls we raised them in, loved them unconditionally. These are the walls we painted, the toys we made for our son. I’m so sorry....I....what have I done?” Dracula walked over to her and took the sword out of her hands, pointing it’s sharp tip against his own chest and placing it back in her hands. 
“Your greatest gifts to me, and I’m killing them.”
Alucard got up and stood next to his sister, placing his hands around hers. He wouldn’t let her do this alone. 
“I must already be dead...”
Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought she was going to throw up. “I love you....” the girl managed to get out in a strangled cry, looking her father in the eyes. She could see it in his pleading eyes, silently begging them to put an end to his misery, to theirs and the world’s. In those quiet moments, he hoped she knew how much he truly loved her. How special she really was. 
She shut her eyes tightly for a second as her and her brother drew her sword into her father’s chest. He groaned in pain, blood spilling out of his mouth as more coppery tears spilled out of his eyes. 
She would forever be his little girl. 
WOOOOH that was a long one! I told ya’ll I’d write some sad shit. Ok I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep now, like, comment and reblog!🥳🥳
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donutloverxo · 3 years
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A Royal Scandal 3
Modern Royal King!Steve au
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(Image from Pinterest)
cowritten with @lizzygal​
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Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.
Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.
Pairing - King!Steve x reader
Word count - 7k
Story masterlist
Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.
Early that morning was no different.
Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.
Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.
You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.
Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.
Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?
Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.
He couldn’t even say what it was or why.
For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.
For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.
Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.
Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.
Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.
A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.
He’d had a beard back then he remembered.
A full bushy one.
One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.
“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.
He’d beamed.
Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.
“Indeed. Eleven to four.”
He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”
“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.
Making you roll your eyes.
On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”
He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.
More focused on the organizing task yourself.
Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.
“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”
And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.
Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.
Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.
The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.
Hungry.
That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.
In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.
Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.
Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.
Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.
You’d smelled so good that night too.
You always smelled good.
It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.
It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.
Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.
Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.
“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”
Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.
“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”
Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.
You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”
Steve could only imagine.
He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.
Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”
Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.
Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.
Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.
In his eyes, you were a saint.
“What’s with the question mark?”
Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.
Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”
Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.
He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.
Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.
A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”
Soundly you slept.
Comfortable. Safe. At peace.
Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.
Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.
Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.
A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.
On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.
Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.
Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.
Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.
Your signature was all swoops and swirls.
Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.
All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.
At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.
Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.
A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.
Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.
A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.
Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.
Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.
This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.
Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”
Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”
Stars.
So many bright and colorful stars.
Mmm.
Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.
Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.
Nothing.
Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.
Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.
For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.
Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.
You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.
His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.
You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?
Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.
You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.
Reality was always so different.
Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”
A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.
It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.
“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”
Up your hand flew to your chest.
Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”
His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.
Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”
In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.
Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.
Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.
He kissed you.
Did he really though?
Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?
For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.
He’d leaned closer to kiss you.
What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.
Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.
However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.
Another attempt at a kiss was not made.
Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.
Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.
Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.
Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.
Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.
“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”
For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.
A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.
Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.
“This is ok?”
“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.
Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.
Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.
And it wasn’t like you were complaining.
Far from it.
Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.
There really were worse ways to wake up.
Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.
This? This was soooo much better.
Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.
Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.
“Am I going to have to quit my job?”
It was something of a concern.
You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.
Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.
His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”
Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.
A grunt came from beneath you.
Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.
Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”
How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.
Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.
God did he want you to be his queen.
“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.
However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”
So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.
“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”
Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.
A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”
Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.
Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”
“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”
And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.
It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.
Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?
You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.
Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.
“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”
Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”
***
The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.
Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.
Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.
It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.
Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.
Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.
A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.
A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.
Some things males never grew out of it seemed.
“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.
Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.
She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.
Speaking of the devil.
As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.
Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.
Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.
She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?
Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.
She was queen at the time.
It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.
“Yes mother?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”
Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.
No. That was not why she was here.
Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.
It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.
Hope and Janet?
Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.
All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”
Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.
She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.
Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.
“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”
Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.
Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.
“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”
Ah.
Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?
Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.
What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.
It clicked.
Like a light going off.
How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?
Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”
Silence.
Quiet.
Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.
“No mother.”
“But…”
“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”
And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.
Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.
“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”
Ah, so he did remember.
Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.
Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.
Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.
Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”
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muffindaddystyles · 3 years
Text
KISMETS.
Harry Styles x fem!reader.
Slow burn, platonic love and jealousy clićhes.
Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!
Frenemies and dad!harry.
Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!
MASTERLIST LETS TALK! PART 2 PART 3 PART 4
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"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.
"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor.
"Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them. Harry hates her hormones. Little bitches.
Or
Y/N is carrying a baby for Harry and his girlfriend ---  but something went downhill.
//
Twinkling droplets of crystal rain pelts against the bricked road subsiding harsh noises of surrounding but a nettled groan caught everyone's attention ‐‐‐ stares turning in direction. Have you ever wanted to just disappear under a warm invisible cloak and enjoy the drollery aspects of life without worrying? Because this is what Y/N wants at the moment as she stands under the bus stop shelter with few people beside her and the british showers starts pouring mocking at her for not carrying an umbrella with her.
Everyone leaves when the bus didn't arrive — who remains behind's Y/N huffing and pouting wishing for rain to stop. When it didn't she muttered a 'fuck it' before risking catching a cold and stepping under the pitter patter with her books atop her head for less damage.
Trying to punch in the passcode of society's gate with shivery fingers perhaps it opens before that startling her wet-y self. Similar car drives near her and a head pops in from inside with his big goofy smile and crinkles by his charming eyes, "Ni!" She exclaims pushing away the drippy hair sticking to her lips with her pinky.
"Pet you're gonna catch a cold. Want me to drop ya?" Niall kinda yells over the rain's loudness. She sighs fog whirling infront of her. Shoves her hand in her trench coat's pocket to seek for heat instead it's all icky and drenching.
"No it's just a tiny walk away. I'll manage — call me will tell ya how my class went." She waves him looking at him from her shoulder while rushing away towards the most elegant house in the block. Niall gives her a thumbs up from before getting out of sight and she tries to hop over the puddles of water to make it to doorsteps.
The water she brings from outside pooling at the dark timber floor - it trails behind her past the pink door as she rushes jumpy-ly where the most hot's in the house and apparently it's more than she expected, "ouch. ouch my eyes!!" She screams covering them at the sight of Harry butt naked pinning his girlfriend against the wall near fire place. Her face turning into a tomato at the horrendous raid but she seems pissed and well . . displeased that Y/N ruined a mind boggling orgasm for her.
Before, they could disattach from eachother to unravel their humiliation Y/N jogged up to attic into the guest room slamming her forehead against the door to knock away the embarrassment. She always barges in Harry's house without announcing but sometimes she forgets he isn't alone everytime his girlfriend comes to live by every two weeks (it's his fault too that he never locks the main door as anytime anyone's coming at his place). Changes into clothes she forgets at her visits, tries to dry her hair with a towel that no-more smells like Harry but expensive fabric softeners and has a pep talk for a minute to show herself down infront of them.
Instinctive voices coming from the Kitchen and she pads towards it. They act like nothing happened. Like Harry wasn't dick deep into Chessie moments ago. Harry ushers her to barstool and hands her a cuppa tea moving on with a kiss to her head. It still gives her butterflies even though how many sense awakening scoldings she gave to herself at 3 ams.
"'M sorry." She squeaks with a wavering smile wrapping her palms around the mug. Harry cackles softly brushing the underbelly of his nose as Chessie cordinated the cutlery drawer, "'s okay moppet. we finished our business when ye' left." Y/N almost choked on her hot beverage gulping it down when Chessie shocked gasp throwing little socksies that were laying ontop of the counter at Harry. Are those of toddler? Adam's out of town so there's no way it could be his daughter's socks. Maybe Chessies's one of friend's?
"Should've called me t' pick y'up. Niall was loafin' around too —- wear it you're turnin' blue, pet." He comes back with a swarmy chunky knitted sweater Anne gifted him at his birthday handing it to Y/N and sitting opposite of her pulling Chessie with her wrist into his lap clearing his throat to bring Y/N's attention back from eyeing the socks on the floor. Her eyes flicker between them chest tightening at the love and glow that radiates from Harry when he looks at her.
No. She's not jealous. Mightyyyy bit yeah –- cause she could never be this lucky to have someone as Harry. He's the most caring towards her since ten years been her compass to the home she wanted, her anchor saving her from sinking and the sixth sense of a blind to her. In fact she thinks he's her soulmate and not every soulmates needs to be romantically involved some could watch them growing beautiful in love. Y/N's doing it. Admiring the maturity of his life with the person that truly makes him enough---or she thinks so.
"How was ye'r meditation class?" Harry asks (she took a semester off as she was unable to haul the burden'; Harry convinced her how her health should be her first priority) breaking a cookie in two giving half of it to Chessie who thanks him with a kiss in return, "Was good been feelin' great!" She chirps pulling the sleeves of the sweater that's drenched in cinnamon vanilla-y smell with lingers of what comes of as Chessie's scent. She assumes they cuddled shit loads.
To subside the gnaw in her brain down she finally asks the question pointing at the sock that nobody gave a heed to pick up, they stop chewing looking at eachother to come up with something. Chessie's face distressed knowing Harry wouldn't hide it from Y/N. He tells her everything and sometimes it could be too personal to share.
"Erm. . I bought 'em — 'cos. . " Harry stammers and Y/N smacks her hand atop her mouth avoiding from giving a shocked reaction, "Oh my goodness ye' guys are pregnant!?" It was enough to make Chessie flinch and hike down Harry's lap.
"No! 'S not what ye'r thinkin'." He shakes his head making Y/N confused. "Then you bought it fo' your fingers? Cause that's the only body part it could fit." She teases him to break through the insight tension around and he chuckles shaking his head grabbing Chessie's hand rubbing her knuckles how he used to when Y/N's anxious and over the edge.
"We want to have a family." His words low as he looks at Chessie but she shrugs in return as 'in it is what it is'. Y/N stomach twisted at that. The thought that one day He's gonna have a family of his own and the little bubble that Y/N would be privy to made her throat dry. Because she has no-one despite Harry and he deserves the whole world not just baby keeping Y/N everytime.
"So . .? What's the problem?" She raises her brows looking between them noticing Harry's fingers fiddle with the flower tea mats, "There are complications from Chessie's side." Chessie sighs in disappointment and Y/N ponders over the idea, clocks working and spindling wildly in her mind.
"I could do that for you guys — since I took a semester off --–" She puts the offer nervously and both of their jaws went slack Harry with an adoring grin while Chessie in hitting shock. "--Erm we could go through a traditional surrogacy."
"Are you sure?" Chessie asks squeezing her shoulder and Y/N nodded taking both of their hands, "Anything for ye' guys!" Harry's eyes glossing over and he leaves his spot sprawling his arms calling for her, "Gimme a hug pet. Life saver ye're - we're gonna take care of ye." They group hug tightly and excitedly.
Sometimes actions could speak much more than words because the lies that words hold could ruin the great bondages.
. . .
They went through the medical procedure two days after Her, Harry and Chessie being guided by their acquired doc. She was nervous and sweaty but Harry's presence beside her soothed out any negativity that was building inside her brain. By womb the babies would be Harry's and Y/N but legally Chessie's and Harry. She's just wishing that everything goes alright cause that happiness of them is million worthy to her.
People might call her stupid and brainless for going through sickness, crankiness, back pains and the pain during labour just to give those babies to someone else (she's too afraid to call them her's cause she knows her emotional attachments could be very destructive) but she loves Harry and love makes you do those thingies.
At the moment she's on the toilet seat eyes bolted shut counting threes with the pregnancy test in her wavering fingers. "Please it better work." A squeal of surprise leaves her lungs when her eyes fell over the two positive lines quickly dragging her panties over she tumbled outside where everyone's waiting for her.
"You guys are pregnant!!" Sounds dumb right? She announces loudly. Harry's and Chessie's heads perked up while everyone cheered beers spilling from the rims. She flashed grins to each one of them splitting her gaze away from Harry giving Chessie a celebratory kiss.
"Thank you. Oh my god, love! Can't belive it." Harry held her from shoulders giving her a toothy smile and it puts her off that Chessie didn't say anything just a nod along Harry. "Me too." She breathes out as he leads her to sofa sitting her cautiously. "We'll visit the doctor tommorrow." He reassures popping his head from Sarah's neck as she hugged him tight.
"We're gonna have a little Y/N and Harry running and pooping it's nappies soon." Everyone went silent. A grimace on Y/N and Chessie's face. Niall doesn't know when to shut up does he? Y/N's gonna strangle him alive. Harry laughed out aloud not caring about the thick tension in room, "I'll rip ye'r hair if you'll turn me baby into a golf freak Niall." His baby.
Niall raises his hands in defence, "No guarantees Harold."
. . .
They had a check-up and Y/N indeed's pregnant. Harry's over the moon. Kissing her forehead. Thanking her for millionth time – to the point she told him to let her watch telly in peace and shut up. Chessie bringing her organic vegan dishes that Y/N isn't a fan of but eats nevertheless under Harry's stern gaze. "'S not about them only I want ye' to be healthy too, pet. Can't be selfish now can I?" He'd insist.
When she'd be sick he'd be at her side giving her back rubs while Chessie stood at the doorframe of washroom. Y/N thinks since she's pregnant her womanly instincts has gotten more sharp as she sensed something's off between the pair.
He'd be at her flat early morning waking her up to have a morning walk with him not giving in her grunts and whines. Who'd want to leave their crispy warm bed to just be out in the cold? A fool like Harry only. Making her brekkie afterwards as a reward giggling and massaging her shoulders when she'd gobble down food like a greedy squirrel, "Easy there love. 'S all yours."
Chessie's back at LA. They had a small argument because Harry wants her to be participating in all of this as much as he's. But, her priorities are not set for this. They never were.
Y/N was at Harry's place nibbling onto chocolate cupcakes Anne sent specifically for her with a note ("my grandchild shouldn't be privy to their Nana's bakin' skills all my love to Y/N." along a winky smiley) when she spilled cold milk all over her nooked tee-shirt. Harry gave her his clothes to change into and baby wipes but she warded him with a scoff that water exists. She has become more feisty with each passing day.
Was discarding the tee when her gaze fell over the sveltest of bump in the mirror taking her breath away. It makes her realize it's all real. She never touches her belly in fear if she'd she will never stop. Now, when the pads of her fingers skim alongs the skin it strips shivers down her spine. She always wanted this. Not in this scenario though. Shaking her head of the thoughts she slips Harry's hoodie over it climbing down the stairs and it causes Harry to snap his head in alert. He stops chopping the carrots spinning to see Y/N standing feet away from him.
"My baby bump's showing." Her voice almost a whisper and it widens Harry's pupils as his hands fell in air midway between them hesitant to reach her, "Can I see?" She bobs her head shyly cheeks blazing red while revealing the bump for Harry to see. It's not like he hasn't seen her before. He has. But, this's more intimate than all of that. It made him fall on his knees. He's a sensitive person in general. Pure from heart but during this period it seems like he's pregnant not Y/N which's quite amusing too.
"She's beautiful." His gaze full of adoration. "She?" Y/N furrows her brow with a smile. He bobbed his head with a grin, "Think so our baby's gonna be she." Now that's the problem cause Y/N doesn't know which ours he's talking about.
"My pregnancy instincts says it's he." He scoffs, "Bet!?" She rolls her eyes forwarding her fist to do the hand shake they do while betting, "If you loose your pink macbook gonna be mine." They solid the deal with their traditional shake.
"Can I touch it?" Harry's asks politely. When she gives him permission he spreads his warm palms flat against her tummy tongue tied with the affection boozing in his veins for the baby that's not out in the world yet. Y/N eyes flutters and her fingers twitches by her sides from carding them into his hair. This's wrong she scolds herself. Her hormones all over the place.
"You wanna send a picture to Chessie?" At this his lips thinned and he gave her a curt nod standing up to fetch his phone, "Sure. But she might be busy..." on the verge of spitting his words in vile.
. . .
Y/N was reading a crime mystery book. Stroking the side of her baby bump carelessly. Cosy in her blanket hoodie telly murmuring in the distance. "Your dad's taste in books is shit, innit?" She peers down with a smile. It's the first time she's talking to them. "We'll read loads of good books together so that when you'll grow up – I could know what to gift you on Christmas." She tries to grab more popcorns from the bowl but it's empty. "Wanna be best aunt out there!!"
"Will you miss me? As much as I'll when we'll be separated?" Tears well up at her waterline. She huffs through her nose running her hand down her belly several times. It's coming; the breakdown she was toiling for days. "I know it sucks I cant be your mommy." Her cravings kicking in and all she want's a strawberry oreo icecream.
"Oh no. Seriously? I'm sad and ye' lil bean want an ice? Let's call your daddy and see what he got." She rings him and he picks up on the third one. Voice groggy from the sleep. She wants to feel bad but she isn't when all her taste buds could think of is strawberry flavour.
"'M cravin' strawberry ice-cream bad. . . Is it possible for ya to bring one?" He's already throwing duvets off his body reaching for his phone and wallet, "No worries pet I'll be there in tick."
"What the fuck Harry? It's three in the mornin'." Chessie groaned from beside him throwing pillow at her face. "We already stored her fridge with alot of food — " She squints about to change the side.
"She's carrying a baby for us Chess. Ye should know better since ya didn't wanted to." She sits up like bullet folding her arms against her chest.
"Thank you for throwing it at my face, H." He doesn't even spare her a glance walking outside and Chessie wants to scream at the top of her lungs. Why did she even agreed to this?
. . .
When he bought her ice-cream she throws herself in his arms kissing his cheek and he giggled in return feeling good when her bump pressed against him. They ate ice-cream with a bantering mess discussing names of the babies, the one that Chessie and Harry decided, him telling her about the little onesies they bought hearing that Y/N stood up taking out a little bag from the chests of drawers.
"I hope you wouldn't mind." She mutters showing him the lil knitted gloves and Harry slid his palm above her's wrapping them snugly, "I don't want ye' to think ya can't love on 'em 'cos after all it's ye'r womb they belong too." Her lip wobbles at his words and she stuffs her face against his chest fisting the hem. It fred away butterflies inside Harry. He sucka his lip. He shouldn't be acting like this. He has a girlfriend that he's gonna have a baby with. They're happy or atleast he thinks so.
They've been bestfriend for years and those feelings never drowned him. Is it because now she's having his babies? Maybe? Harry tries to convince himself.
When he looks down Y/N's drooling onto his shirt deep into slumber. He pecks her hair slipping his arms under her to hold her firmly against his chest. Laying her on the bed tucking her under blankets.
. . .
It sounds like multiple thuds as doctor hovered the ultrasound device over her gelled cover belly. Her belly growing way faster than it should. Her gaze glued at the ceiling fingers crossed. Harry and Chessie holding hands tight gazes fixed at the screen both of them confused at the disoriented image. They all were on the edge of their seats waiting for their turns. Y/N wished that someone could give her a huge warm hug to soothe her nerves down. But, in the first place she shouldn't be worried about the gender as it's none of concern but theirs. It's getting hard day by day.
"It's twins!" Doctor announces chirply getting a wave of silence in return. But, soon the room filled with happy giggles and gasps of Harry as he went to hug Chessie who's expressionless from shock. Y/N pouts wishing it was her. Smiling at doctor when she squeezed her hand in consolation. She's frightened though. How could she deliver two babies? To deal with the roughness that comes along them? Gonna be pretty hectic.
"We hit a jackpot, innit?" He grins down at her kissing Chessie's cheek last time before leaning down to hug her. "Gonna be super carin' with ye' now." Y/N gives a pat to his back in return awkwardly eyeing as Chessie left the room hastily.
. . .
It rakes against the wood harshly as Chessie glided keys of Harry's house towards him without a word. He puts the baby guide book aside arching his brow, "I can't do this anymore. I want an out." Dread. Seeping down Harry's bones.
Guarding himself down he grits, "What do ya mean you want an out? We agreed with full consent of yours Chessie." She shakes her head furiously.
"I didn't sign up for two of 'em Harry I could barely be there for one!!" He puts his elbows on his knees head lowering, "But you wanted to have a family with me didn't ye'?" His eyes tearing and she throws her head back in annoyance finding it difficult to make him understand.
"No. No – No. You wanted a family! Because of your continuous protests I gave in. Told you I wasn't ready for all of this bullshit now we are here." She emphasises. Harry stands up from his seat towering her pointing a finger at her.
He's rageous. Could burn this house down. How could she be so mean? Cowarding back at the last moment.
"Don't call it bullshit." He spits full of venom for the woman he mighty love and she snaps her head other way, "Congrats she finally ruined us and couldn't be more happy – now that she's having your mother fuckin' babies." He stumbles back knocking the coffee table lungs congesting.
"Don't drag her in all of this she's innocent." She laughs ironically looking him square in eyes yelling like a maniac, "Gave her your sperms now you can't hold back from fucking her. I knew it. You were fucking her behind my back weren't you?" She thinks of him like that? A cheater? He loved her and she always thought he was cheating her.
"Don't yell. I don't want to see ye'r cruel face when I come back home." He tries not to croak mustering strength to walk away from her. Exposing himslef to freezing weather locking himself in his car and crying his heart out. Sky crying along him. He punches the steering wheel brutally shouting "why's?" Head falling atlast as he thought of all his dreams shattering at his feet.
She caged him instead of giving him shelter. Replaced the butterflies he used to get from her with a burning hell in his pit, should've been mother of his children now she's just an ex.
The excruciating part is how he's gonna tell Y/N about this? She'll be crushed.
. . .
"Oh my god . . ." It was the roar of thunder that startled her but something else took her attention away. That tinsy kick protruding the taught skin of her belly, ". . . which one of you?" She was extra happy today. It's swimming in her head. It's just a thought but sharing it with Harry wouldn't kill someone. She wanna ask him if she could've one of the babies. It's just she's too much into the moment that she forgot she still have a degree to complete. A career to pursue and a life she always wanted.
When there's a knock at door she tries to stand up with the support of armrest a hand on her back. A gasp falling from her mouth at the sight of Harry's clothes soaked and another when he looks up with bloodshot eyes. Tears dried cheeks and heaving chest seeming utterly devastated.
"Pet what happened!?" She grabs him from elbow pulling him inside and he falls onto his knees smashing his cheeks against her showing tummy -- a sob recking through him, "Harry you're scarin' me. Tell me what happened is everything okay?"
"Chessie don't want these babies - sh-she didn't wanna ruin her career but atlast agreed . . . n-n now she doesn't want 'em 'n wants an out." He stutters. White noise deafening Y/N's ears and she steps back with expressions as if she's scared. Horrified of the future.
"It means she never had complications? She just didn't wanted her body to go through all of this." When Harry didn't fill in to her inquiry she flopped onto sofa from the shock shoving her face into her palms giving out a cry of hurt at her stupidity.
"God. I'm such an idiot!" He shakes his head crawling towards her with sad eyes and lil hiccups, "No please don'tcha say that. We'll figure it out yeah? Never wanted this t'happen." God. How bad he wants her to assure him that it'll be alright.
"You'll figure out what, huh!? Leaving them just like she did!?" Swear Harry felt a dagger jabbing it's way into his heart more upsetting tears spilling down his throat. "I hate you guys. They're none of your babies from now on. . ."
"Leave." She orders him wiping her tears roughly with the sleeve of her jumper. Running out of breath with each sniffle. Raises her hand stopping him to step forward and protest, "I said leave before I make you!!" He nods inhaling breath of remorse looking at the ceiling for a second then to her.
"Before, that want ya t'know. I still want 'em. They're mine. How could I not? love 'em. Hope ya'll forgive me." Then it's just sobs of Y/N taking over the buzz of telly as the door ticks. He didn't leave though. He's too afraid to. His back sliding against her door knees closing against his chest letting it all dawn upon him. His green luscious orbs hooding with sadness and the fluff of his curls.
Dunno if Y/N would be able to forgive him.
. . .
He woke up to a boot nudging to his thigh squinting up to find Niall stating down at him with consoling eyes. Poor Harry slept in the hallway. His neck sore and limbs stoned.
"Heard it 'lad. Was suspicious with Chessie long way." He helps Harry stand up patting his shoulders, "Y/N called ye'?" He grogs rubbing his eye with knuckles. When Niall confirms he quips with pleading eyes in a low whisper knowing he'll get his hair ripped if that furious little mama bunny will find him outside.
"Ye' think she'll forgive meh?" Niall chuckles to light up the situation, "'course H. Do ya think our pet's that ruthel—" He bites his tongue. Harry's gaze following the snap of his neck when the door opened revealing Y/N in a lilac chunky sweater. Puffy eyes and swollen lips. Harry feeling like a dickhead at her condition. It's all his fault. Then their eyes fall at the piping hot cuppa of tea in her hand.
With a stoic face she hands it to Harry and pulls Niall inside slamming the door at curly boy's face. So, she knew he was there sharing a door with her the whole night.
. . .
"Isn't it a good thing thou, love?" Niall smiles. He's chill in all of this. Watching it unwrap. They were meant for eachother Niall thinks so, "You wanted one of 'em and ended up havin' a whole bean can." She groans throwing her peach plushie at his chest. A smile swirming up her lips at his silly statement now that she's more stable less sad.
"You're the absolute worst, Ni!" He holds her cold hands tugging her close to make her look, "Want ya to forgive H. He did nothin' wrong, pet." When she pouts ruffling the silk strands of her rug with her feet he grabs her chin.
"Remember how happy he was? Don't go mad on him yeah?" She bobs her head not meeting his gaze. Meanwhile, there's knock at the door and Niall takes it laughing to himself softly at the box of doughnuts with a note.
"What is it?" He's already flopping beside her hooking his nimble finger around the white doughnut with rainbow sprinkles, "If I'd have known pregnant ladies gets treated this way. Would be havin' one baby every year." She smacks him in belly and unlatches the note reading it with a sucked lip.
Ye'r antenatal class's tommorrow. Don't forget to take ye vitamins :)
How gentle, calm and optimistic Harry could be needles her some.
. . .
Harry's waiting for her in the car fiddling with the radio. He isn't gonna lie. He's been going through a heartbreak. To cope with it he wants to accompany Y/N in her parent craft classes. When she waddles towards his car cosied up in a yellow baggy sweater and a cardigan Harry remembers she stole from him ages ago he mighty scrunched his nose in adoration at her cuteness.
Her nose pink and cheeks flushing as she slips into her seat, "Can you stop bringin' me stuff. I know how to take care of myself." She nips at him when he forwards her a kale smoothie. He doesn't seem to mind. Both, of them knows very well she's trying to avoid drinking it. She finds it yucky!
"Wanna take care of ya'll is all." He mumbles putting it in her side's cup holder. Ya'll .She regrets it instantly. Damn his puppy eyes!
. . .
"Mr. Styles and . . . Miss Y/N." The instructor calls them and they both raises their hand awkwardly as if in elementary school. "You're the parents of twin right?" She asks. Y/N wanted to say that their supposed to be parent ran off from the fear. But, she couldn't. Could never. It'll be like rubbing salt to his wounds. Bestfriends don't do that shit even in their most anger.
"Yes." She confirms. When Harry didn't. Scared if he might say something wrong. "Ok then! Lay your mats n' have a seat." Harry guides her with the little of his hand on her back. Her shoulder nudging his taut chest, and goosebumps pimples at her skin when his fingers brushes the side of her belly as he helps her sit down.
She takes an all rounder of the room and none of the parents looks like they're here to prepare for war unlike them. She shyly waves at the two mothers beside her and Harry twinges his lip equally flustered as her.
They start with relaxation and breathing exercises. Telling Y/N to let herself loose in Harry's arms. She fumbles with the hem of her sweater when his fingers gingerly winked at her sides and the lull of his breath hit her earlobe.
"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.
"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor. "Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. He hates her hormones little bitches.
It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them.
. . .
"Are you hungry?" He asks turning the heat on knowing how cold her feet could get in the span of seconds. She huffs trying to buckle her belt and it squirms a fond smile out of him at her cute effort to be put in place due to her bump. If he'd coo. She'd rip him into tiny bits. It's better if he gazes away.
"Does it mean emptying your pocket?" She arches her brow sinking into her seat. "Bitso. . " He chuckles softly drumming at the steering wheel.
"Then I'd love to." She adds with a smirk. Clasping her hands atop her heart outta excitement. It makes him shake his poof of hickorey curls at her silliness.
They end up taking a takeout of onion loaded cheese burgers. Greasy fries. An iced-tea and a box of cookies from Babara's shop a block away from Harry's house.
"Wanna choose fo' ye'rself?" He asked her before going inside and she denied with a worried expression. Not knowing how she'll explain all of this to Babara who's her one of the good friends from UNI. Harry respects that. If she isn't ready to talk about it he isn't gonna pressurize her. They've been dodging the serious talk since she let him take to parental classes. Knows one day or another they've to decide how it's all gonna work.
. . .
Good food can make you more high than actual drugs. Licking their fingers off now they feel all sleepy and lazy sitting on the comfortable sofa watching telly with hooded eyes.
Harry's cheek smushed adorably against her baby bump ears tuned into what his babies are talking about.
"You know what? 'S not about winners or loosers. Bu' I won." She bubble hiccups slumping deeper with sugar rush hitting her. "Huh? Harry mumbles eyes drooping. The cotton balls of snowflakes glittering outside, collecting at the window and foging them up.
"I get to have babies of my bestfriend and this nice foodddd — 'n what did Chessie got? No babies and no happy feeling of being their mother." Harry shots up from his snooze blinking up at her and she quickly takes it back regret eating her alive, "'m sorry it slipped."
"No!!" He almost shouts cupping her cheeks making her look at him. His dimples deeps that someone could scoop them like an ice-cream. He gives her an eskimo kiss that makes her veins run with glittery blood.
"I wan' ye' to be the mother of me babies." No hesitation. No dithering. Just him asking for the tinsy bit of her heart. For her forgiveness. For the love they've kept blind eye for years. "We'll figure this out, yeah?" He murmurs their lips brushing and breaths kissing. Pulling back with a forehead kiss.
She lives for forehead kisses makes her shallow tin heart explode with glittery firecrackers.
She nods to give him the affirmation that she wants what he wants.
.
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free-pool-trash · 3 years
Text
utopia- peter maximoff
yeah... im back being in love with Peter <3 enjoy loves <3
word count: 3k
warnings: angst and fluff, wandavision spoilers
id be open to writing more parts if anyone was interested <3 (I wrote this at 4am if it’s all over the place im sorry)
masterlist
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You didn’t know much, but one thing was for certain; you didn’t belong here.
This morning you had opened your eyes and were met with a town that seemed like the very definition of the suburban dream. Your mind screamed at you as soon as you came to in the strange and indisputably new environment, telling you that this town was your home. The fact that you couldn’t remember anything before your eyes had fluttered open didn’t fill you with the utmost confidence about the legitimacy of the voice in your head, or the utopia that surrounded you.
All you knew was that you came here to look for someone. This someone was someone very important to you and you had a feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be to find this someone. There was one minor problem though; you didn’t have a clue who this special someone was, just that you needed to find him.
Cautiously, you found yourself wandering the town that seemed to be lost in time. All of its residents dressed like they were all attending an 80s themed party, yourself included. You couldn’t recall pulling on the ridiculous getup but that voice told you not to worry about it. It wasn’t long before you were in the middle of the town square, people bustled around you happily, all of them eerily going about their day as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Nobody looked stressed or sad or anything other than animatedly happy.
The realisation caused a slight panic to begin in your chest, there was something very wrong happening here and you didn’t know what. The very second you began to show anything that didn’t come across as positively blissful, the voice you’d been hearing since you opened your eyes sounded in your brain, louder than ever.
You are happy here. WestView is home. You are home.
Despite her soothing tone, you weren’t convinced.
“Who are you?” You demanded out loud, whipping your head in all directions, eyes set in a glare as you watched the citizens of the town acting none the wiser to your question.
Within seconds a woman appeared before you, a sweet smile on her face and two children by her side. “Hey there, you must be the new neighbour.” She spoke kindly, something familiar about the woman caused you to immediately relax in her presence although that relaxation felt somewhat… forced.
With a hesitant nod you looked around again, you brought your eyes back to the little family and offered them your best friendly smile, “It seems I must be, yeah.”
The lady giggled and held her hand out towards you, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wanda. And these two are Billy and Tommy.” You took her hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with an influx of thoughts that didn’t seem to be yours. Suddenly you were giving Wanda the most sparkling smile you could manage, not entirely sure why your mouth had formed such a smile for a complete stranger.
“Pleasure to meet you all.” Were the only words you could manage, still riddled with confusion as to what was going on.
Wanda returned your smile, Billy and Tommy seemed almost enamoured by you as they both stared at the new arrival. Glancing at her boys, Wanda knew she’d have to keep a very close eye on you, you were a mutant and stronger than even you knew, hard to control. But she had let you through her barricade as soon as she realised who you were and why you came.
“What’s your name?” Billy had asked and Wanda grew nervous as she noticed your eyes lose their smile for a second as you blanked on the simple question.
What was your name? It took you a moment or two before you regained your composure and extended your arm to the little boy in front of you who shook it excitedly, “Y/n. My name is Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you two.”
“Say, would you like to come and have dinner with us?” Wanda offered and you nodded your head gratefully.
“Dinner would be lovely. I’m feeling quite airy today, a good feed might help.” You told her with a laugh.
You walked to what you assumed to be Wanda’s residence, Billy and Tommy spoke excitedly to you as you walked, the pair of them strolled on either side of you fighting for your attention and entertaining you as they constantly tried to one up each other.
“You’re so cool! I can’t wait for uncle piet to meet you!” Tommy commented, prompting a soft smile from Wanda and an agreeing nod from Billy.
With a laugh you ruffled the boys’ hair, “Uncle Piet, huh? I bet I’m way cooler than that guy.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Wanda laughed, her hold on you lessening as you began to relax on your own accord.
It only took a few more minutes until the four of you arrived at their house. As you entered you took a second to take in the interior, the 80s theme not as glaringly out of place to you as it had been earlier.
“Vis! Pietro! I’m home and I’ve brought a guest!” Wanda’s sweet voice sounded from the kitchen.
“Uncle Piet hurry up! Come meet our new friend!”
“Come on! Come on! Hurry up!”
Billy and Tommy yelled up the stairs impatiently and you smiled fondly at the boys, crossing your arms over your chest as you anticipated meeting ‘the funnest guy in the whole world’.
“M’coming! Jeez.” The deep voice made you freeze. For the first time since you arrived in WestView you could finally say you recognised something.
The thumping of feet running down the stairs had your heart beating out of your chest and when you finally came face to face with the man the twins had praised so highly you thought your ribs were at risk of breaking from how rapidly it was pumping.
The man looked at the twins, expectantly, “Alright. Where’s the one making you two so excited?” He hadn’t noticed you yet.
With a shaky breath, it bagan coming back to you, he was the someone you were looking for. He wasn’t just someone special, he was your love. And there he stood, silver hair unkempt as usual and his signature grin painted his lips.
“She’s-“ Billy started but Peter cut him off.
“She? You guys get yourself a lil girlfriend? Huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that left you. He was still your Peter. Funny, lighthearted, great with children and not completely thoughtless behind his gorgeous doe eyes like the rest of the town’s residents.
The airy laugh caused a shiver to run up his spine. No, you couldn’t be here. Not you. But he knew without even turning his head that it was you, his girl, the love of his life. The loyalist person he’d ever had the privilege of being able to love. Of course you’d follow him to a whole different reality.
He whipped his head in your direction, his mouth falling open as his eyes landed on your form, your eyes shining the way they always did when you’d see him after a long mission.
“Peter?” The boy felt his heart crack as your expression dissolved into something between confusion and panic. He quickly zoomed over to you and pulled you into him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck to hide your expression from Wanda who had yet to return from the kitchen.
His lips hovered close to your ear, “Pietro, you have to call me Pietro. I’ll explain everything, I promise just act natural for me, alright?” He murmured, moving his hand comfortingly up and down your back, aware that the twins were watching Peter pulled away but wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you forced yourself to smile as the pair of you faced the boys.
“How’d you guys manage to find my girlfriend in this dump?” He asked jokingly, smirking proudly as their faces dropped.
Billy glared and raised his little eyebrow at his uncle, “Your girlfriend?”
“You were right, you two. He definitely is the funnest person but I still win in the cool department.” You said, laughing nervously and hoped you weren’t being too conspicuous.
“Oh come on,” Peter groaned, “I haven’t seen you in forever and you’re already making fun of me in front of my nephews? That’s cold.” He pressed his lips to your temple, keeping them there for a few seconds, they were firm and sure and they let you know that he was really with you, you’d found him and he was real.
When Wanda re entered the room you felt your shock ebb as if it were being drowned beneath the surface before you could calm it naturally. You allowed your body to melt into Peter, your unintentional, sitcom worthy smile making his way across your lips again.
“Oh good, so you two have met then?” Wanda grinned, knowingly. Peter gave her a grin of his own.
“We’ve done more than meet.” He told her suggestively and you poked his ribs gently.
“You should’ve told me you were a Maximoff,” You giggled out as Peter littered your face with kisses while the twins gagged, the silver haired man pulled away from you for only a second to stick his tongue out at his nephews before he returned his attention to you as you chastised Wanda softly, “I would’ve been able to prepare myself to see this loser.”
Peter scoffed and gently pushed you away before speeding to catch up with your body. He wrapped his arms around your torso from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder, “She loves me really.”
Peter knew exactly what Wanda was after; a perfect family. He understood that’s what she wanted but he didn’t know how far she would go to achieve that goal. He had to make sure you played along, he couldn’t lose track of you again.
Your next words caused a stir in the hearts of both the siblings, your head was turned and your gaze was locked on Peter’s face, eyes free of any outside emotion as you broke out of Wanda’s hold and what Wanda read off your face wasn’t fear nor confusion, it was nothing but pure adoration for her brother.
“I do. I really do.” You told him, eyes becoming glassy before Wanda managed to regain control of your mind. You cleared your throat and gave Peter an airy smile, gently placing your lips against the curve of his jaw and he bit the inside of his cheek as he held you, allowing the conversation to flow easily and trying his best to support you as you unknowingly exhausted yourself fighting against his sister's hold.
He had a feeling you hadn’t remembered your mutation yet. You were one of the most powerful mutants Xaviers School had ever seen, your powers similar to Jean and Charles himself. Telekinesis was a tricky game, especially when you weren’t aware of it.
He remembered when he’d met you, you were with Charles and Hank, in his basement and asking for his help. He smiled to himself when he thought of how you’d been just as confused as him at the time.
You had no control over your telekinesis back then, similarly to now as you sat playing a board game with the twins, lights would flicker when you laughed and the very ground you walked on would shake if you got angry enough.
“Her mutation, it’s strong.” Wanda commented breezily as if it were nothing, floating through the kitchen going about her business as Peter’s eyes never left your form.
With a sigh he murmured, “She’s powerful, Wands. Trust me when I tell you that this whole thing could come crashing down if you don’t let her access her mutation.”
Wanda paused, her jaw clenched. With a flick of her wrist the panel that was allowing Peter to gaze at you from his place in the kitchen shut in his face. He turned to face Wanda then, an incredulous look on his face.
“What do you mean.” Peter only let out a tired laugh.
He shook his head, “Why did you let her in in the first place? You could’ve kept her out if you didn’t want her here.”
“She came for you, Pietro. You were the only thing on her mind. I didn’t realise she had power until I’d let her in.” She seethed, glaring at Peter.
“Maybe this was a mistake…” Wanda began, clenching and unclenching her hands as she considered her next actions. Noticing her uncertainty, Peter stood up and approached her as she spoke, “I should send her back.”
Panic flooded the speedster and before his sister could so much as move a finger he grabbed both of her hands in his, “No!” He shouted, desperately.
“Please don’t. I’ll look after her, just… just don’t take her away from me. Not again.” He begged, shaking his head frantically and Wanda knew in that moment that sending you away would create more problems than it would solve.
With a steady nod Wanda squeezed her brother’s hands, “She’ll stay here. But she’s your responsibility now. If she becomes a problem she’ll have to go.” His sister explained causing Peter to once again nod his head frantically.
“There’s an empty house next door. It’s yours, take her home, she’s tired I can tell.” Peter left the kitchen without another word, a smile on his face as if the conversation with Wanda hadn’t shook him to his core.
When he entered the living room he watched fondly as Billy tried to impress you and Tommy sat contently beside you. Wanda had released you from her influence and you were simply fighting sleep while simultaneously keeping the twins occupied. Even without your mutation, Peter knew you were a superhero.
“Alright, nerds. Stop bugging my girl.” Peter walked casually to the couch and pulled you up gently, kissing your temple like he had done earlier, “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
When he pulled away you were looking at him, your expression somewhat defeated, “Home?” That’s right, he reminded himself, you didn’t know where home was.
He nodded gently, interlocking your fingers with his and led you to the front door.
“Bye boys!” He called over his shoulder, not bothering with a proper goodbye tonight.
True to her word, the house next door was vacant and ready for the couple to move into. As soon as the front door was shut Peter attached his lips to yours, feverishly moving his hands to your cheeks as you melted against him.
“I’ve been looking for you for so long.” You croaked, pulling away, select memories had began to return upon meeting his lips.
Completely overwhelmed you nuzzled your cheeks into his palms when tears began to leak from your eyes. Peter pulled you closer, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, “I know, baby. But I’m right here, I’ve got you.”
His words had only served to push you further towards the edge and you gripped his wrists to keep his hands in place, using him as an anchor. He shushed you gently once the picture frames nailed to the wall began to clatter against the plaster while you struggled to even out your breathing.
“I couldn’t think, Pete. I couldn’t- I couldn’t keep her out. There’s something so wrong here, we need to get out- we have to get out.” You rambled, tears streaming down your face now as the panic Wanda had pushed away from you earlier now manifested into a full blown panic attack.
“Hey, hey, hey, Y/n, look at me, okay? Neither of us are under her control right now, you’re safe, you’re with me and I’m not going to let her so much as flick her wrist at you, do you understand me?” He spoke steadily and sternly, caressing your face so gently as if he was afraid you’d break.
After a second or two, the walls stopped shaking and you let Peter guide you to the stairs and into a double room. Carefully, he undressed you and redressed you into the shirt he’d been sleeping in, something in him just knowing being surrounded by his scent would calm you down.
Your hands snaked around his waist after he finished getting himself changed, with a content sigh you pressed your lips against his shoulder before pulling away to look into his eyes, “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Peter nodded his head, eyes softening at your concern, “M’better now.”
Before you could respond Peter had zoomed the pair of you into the floral double bed. He lay on his back, his silver hair sprawled against the pillow and his eyes looking at you contently. You gazed at him from your space against his chest, your body completely flush to his, the arm he had wrapped around your waist making you feel safe.
He hummed in approval as your finger lazily traced his jaw, he grinned dorkily, he watched your eyes fluttering open and shut as you struggled to stay awake. Peter wrapped both arms around you tightly, pulling you up ever so slightly to let your face rest against the crook of his neck.
“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered when he felt your fingers toying with his hair gently.
You hummed, pecking the skin of his neck, “I love you, Peter. Or should I say Pietro?” He couldn’t stop his chuckle when he felt your lips form into a smirk as you continued to peck lightly at his neck.
Peter shook his head, his hands moving up and down your back, slowly and softly as he told you, “Nah, I just wanna be Peter with you. You’re the only person in this wacko town who knows who I am.”
“We’ll get out… and then we can go back to being whoever we were before we ended up here.” You spoke sleepily, but honestly, he knew you believed what you were saying.
He wanted to ask why you’d put yourself in this situation but he knew why. And he knew he’d follow you into anything like this too.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been proud of the love the pair of you shared, considering it had landed you in a borderline tyrannical suburbia. But even a barrier that wiped memories, a witch who could bend time, space and the very reality around her couldn’t keep the two of you apart.
Neither of you knew what would happen in the future but that didn’t matter so long as you had each other. As your breath evened out against his neck Peter promised himself that he’d find a way to get you both out, get everyone out.
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