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donutloverxo · 3 years

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NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Botanical Interest - In Bloom

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x florist!Reader

Summary: Steve comes home to you angry after a rough day at work. He made a promise to keep his work life separate but can he keep it?

W/C: 4,103

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past abuse, smut, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hi there! A part three for our soft mob Steve and his lovely florist. Thank you so much to everyone that has shown interest in my work so far, if you like it please reblog and comment!! You can also check out my other stuff if you haven't yet. Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

_____________

When Steve Rogers had asked you to be his girlfriend you knew there was a weight attached to it. A long talk over a stack of waffles and a couple of beers left Steve with a ‘yes’ and some ground rules.

After the incident in the alleyway you both agreed that he left his work at the door whenever you spent time together. Steve’s profession has made you uneasy since you met him and you two couldn’t avoid it forever.

A month later and you’ve managed to avoid conflict for the most part. Nothing as bold as that day in the alley, just small moments where he’d have to take a phone call, once when he had to cancel your plans for a ‘work incident’. But still he really was trying to keep his work and personal life separate and you appreciated it.

It had bothered you that he had to do those things but it’s not as though your work hadn’t impacted your time together either. Being a florist meant a lot of late nights when you worked events. Wedding season in full swing, every weekend was a busy one for you.

That’s why Monday’s have become almost sacred to you, your one day off a week. You and Steve always spent time together, sometimes you’d go out or stay home and just relax.

This Monday Steve had promised to come over and make you dinner. He’d only ever tried to cook for you once and it had ended with a lasagna burnt so badly you had to open every window in the apartment just to get the charred smell out. You couldn’t wait for him to redeem himself and take him to bed after you both came out of your food comas.

You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard your phone buzz. You had asked Steve if he wanted you to pick up any groceries since you had the day off. Expecting a list you were met with mild disappointment.

Running a little late, doll. 6:30 and not a minute later, I promise. Don’t worry about groceries. I'll get it all taken care of, just enjoy your day off.

You were kinda miffed but at least he gave you a heads up and he was going to get the groceries. You picked your sponge back up and scrubbed away at the counter.

________

Expecting to be let down, you were pleasantly surprised when 6:30 rolled around and your doorbell sounded. You buzzed him up and waited patiently for him at your door.

Steve appeared as he rounded the corner and he looked exhausted, irritated maybe. He carried a lot of tension in his shoulders and his suit jacket was long gone. His tie was undone and his sleeves were rolled up to where you could see well toned forearms. You bit your lip thinking of those arms holding you in place in bed.

Maybe we should just ditch the dinner and skip straight to dessert.

He approached you and you leaned up to give him a kiss.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” You greeted him as you shut the door behind you.

He set the groceries down onto the counter with some force and you winced. Okay so he did have a rough day. Do I ask him about it? I don’t wanna talk about his work but I don’t want him to feel like he can’t talk to me about his day.

He sighed and turned to face you, took his tie off completely and ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it” he responded as he took a beer out of your fridge.

You were off-put by the abruptness of his answer. Maybe he was just short with you because he didn’t want to talk about work.

You stepped closer and tried to approach him again.

“I-“

“I said don’t worry about it.” Steve snapped, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen, visibly annoyed. “I gotta take this”. He slammed the door to your bathroom shut behind him and left you stunned in the middle of your kitchen.

What just happened? You had never seen him so upset aside from when you caught him mid-punch a month ago with Mr. Andersen.

Realistically you knew it wasn’t you he was mad at but you’d never done well with people when they were mad at you. You were engaged years ago to a man that was abusive towards you. Things had started off well like they always do but he became manipulative and he was quick to anger. You were constantly questioned and criticized. He kept you from seeing your friends, even some of your family. It took your friends coming through for you to get you out of the situation safely. Through lots of therapy and flinging yourself headfirst into your business you’ve come a long way but sometimes you had difficult moments.

It couldn’t be helped as your heart began to quicken and you felt heat come to your face from the embarrassment of being snapped at. Unsure what to do you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down at your small dining table facing away from the bathroom.

You were trying to get yourself to not shut down in response to his change in mood but it was hard. He’s upset and clearly irritated with me already, he probably just wants to go home. Maybe you should just reschedule. Don’t cry, if you cry you’re gonna make it a whole Thing. Don’t cry. He’s not mad at you specifically and it’s not your fault.

In the torrent of your thoughts you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Steve hadn’t spared you a glance or a word as he started unloading the groceries. Angrily placing a jar of pasta sauce onto your counter with a thud and muttering under his breath. You watched him timidly and took another sip of your wine.

He turned to you and took another swig of his beer.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” He challenged.

Not wanting him to be upset with you, you devolved into old ways of over-explaining so you could justify your actions. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the rational part was telling you it’s not your fault he’s angry and you don’t owe an explanation but you were too far gone.

“I, I just, you didn’t do anything you just, um, you just looked upset. I don’t want to make it worse, I’m sorry. I was just looking at you, I didn’t mean to-”

You were cut off in the midst of your nervous rambling by the shrill ring of Steve’s phone. A frustrated growl escaped his mouth.

“I have to take this,” he muttered as he strode back to the bathroom. “I told you not to call me until you had it fixed” you heard him before the closing of the door muffled his anger.

He left you there to stew in your nervousness and self loathing. Five minutes had gone by and the rational part of your brain was slowly taking over. The rational part of your brain was angry. It’s okay for him to have a bad day and not want to talk about it but the way he’s spoken to you and responded to you isn’t warranted. You needed to confront him calmly and if he was still angry you needed to ask him to leave. You can talk to him another time but not while he’s angry. It won’t do anyone any good. Just like you’ve talked about in therapy.

You rehearsed the lines in your head and finished your glass. You heard the door open again and almost threw everything you had been going over in your head out the window. Just breathe. It’s fine, he calmed down so quickly after that time in the alley, he’ll understand.

_____

Steve was angry. With Clint for getting the dates of Pierce’s arrival wrong, with Sam for failing to get the recon they needed to get the drop on him. Even angrier with Bucky for taking all of this out on him when it wasn’t even his fault. But most of all he was angry with himself for letting his work get in the way of your time together. He promised you undivided attention and you deserved it.

He knew how important your day off was to you and after the day he’d been having he couldn’t wait to just come back to you. He just wanted to make some decent spaghetti and melt the worries of his day off with your embrace. He craved the physical comfort he got from you after a long day. The feeling of endlessly sinking into your arms while you held him in bed allowed him to be the vulnerable one for once. He never felt comfortable enough with any of the other women he’d dated to even entertain the idea of being the little spoon.

He always suspected that who he was at work was almost the only reason any of the other women had even gone out with him. Who he was at work was almost a front for the art-loving, touch-starved, hopeless-romantic that he was when he let himself relax. They’d all just wanted this big burly man who was always in charge, a walking wall of muscle and testosterone that they had seen and heard of him to be when he was on the job. But when he was on his own time he just wanted to feel comfort more than anything.

He just wanted to melt into you.

That’s why he was eager to get to you today but the constant calls were cutting him to his last nerve. Bucky was out with Natasha and her parents so he specifically asked not to be called. Being the boss, Bucky was not to be bothered. Being second in command, Steve was.

When he hung up with Clint he exited the bathroom and walked straight past you without a word, knowing you didn’t want to hear about work and talking about it would just make him angrier. He started unloading the grocery bag with maybe a bit more vigor than was necessary.

Remembering he had opened a beer that was probably warm by now he turned to you and grabbed it off the table you were sat at. At this moment he looked up and you had this look on your face he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to know what was up so he asked but you just ended up stammering out a response that didn’t make much sense.

He was trying to listen to you, he really was but he just couldn’t work around this building anger, couldn’t let it go. So of course his phone rings again. And of course he takes it. Excusing himself and locking the bathroom door behind him again he was already forming how to lay into his men on the other line without raising his voice and alarming you too much.

“I told you not to call me unless you had it fixed” he seethed into the receiver. Steve pounded his fist against the porcelain of your sink in aggravation. “I’m not fucking coming down there tonight. I shouldn’t have to be taking fucking phone calls to solve this kinda shit when I’m with my girl. Lose their tail, re-track them, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning. Don’t call me again unless someone fucking gets shot”, Steve hung up abruptly and took a deep breath.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to you so he just waited a minute to collect himself. He took another deep breath and readied himself to go back to you.

_________

You were sitting quietly at the table, silently digging your nails into your palm as you tensed your fist. Steve had exited the bathroom and taken a seat across from you. You decided to see if he’d speak first and waited.

A beat of silence and you sighed deeply, readying yourself to talk to him like you’d planned.

“Steve, I understand you’re having a bad day and it’s probably work related. That being said, just because you’re mad at someone else doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me” You blew out a shaky breath, wanting to finish before you lost your nerve and before he interjected. You didn’t dare make eye contact. Only stared at his hands on the table in front of you.

“If- if you’re mad don’t take it out on me, and if you feel like you can’t control that anger I don’t want you around me while you feel that way. If you want to talk through it or just work past it then I’m here. But if you’re going to snap at me again and just be mad then you need to leave. It’s not fair to me.”

I’m pretty sure Dr. Danforth would be fucking proud of me right now. Straight to the point but respectful, just like we talked about. And even if Steve’s mad, you’re in control. You’re doing great.

You braved a peek at his face at this point and he looked stunned himself. He’s probably never been spoken to like that in his life, being the second in command and all. You watched his brows bunch together in what you hoped was thought and not frustration for you and waited for him to speak.

________

Oh. Steve was a little struck by what you’d said. Have I been that bad? She’s shaking like a leaf, of course I must have been that bad. He’d had no idea that he even snapped at you, that’s how wrapped up in his own business and his head he was. He never meant to take it out on you, didn’t even realize he had. Sometimes it was like he was so deep into his work life he couldn’t take himself out of it. But he wanted to try, for you.

He remained silent while he pulled the chair across from you out and took a seat. He looked up to meet your gaze only to find you staring at your hands. You were digging your nails into your palms so he brought one large warm hand to cover yours and brought the other up to your face gently to get you to look at him. You flinched away from him and he felt another strike of surprise, but also maybe a hint of shame. Is she afraid of me? Normally Steve likes when people are afraid of him, makes his job easier, but he’d never want that from you.

“Sweetheart”, Steve’s voice was just above a whisper when you finally looked up at him.

“I’m… sorry, that’s really it I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I didn’t even realize I did.” He apologized.

____________

You could feel your tears subsiding and finally brought yourself to look at him. He looked just as exhausted before, just a little bit more sad. You imagined it was probably easy for him to get swept up in who he was at work so it must be hard to separate himself from it since it requires so much from him. You don’t want him to feel bad for being upset, you just want him to be more aware of himself and to not take things out on you.

“Steve, I know we said you wouldn’t talk about work when we’re together but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me if you have a bad day. Maybe you can keep it vague but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say anything or be yourself, unless of course you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you to talk about anything either. When you snapped at me I just sorta shut down” You explained.

Steve seemed to be processing your words and forming a response when he took your hand in his to stop your nails from ripping into your palms like they often do. He nodded and took a breath.

“You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you, thank you. Just for the record, I never feel like I can’t be myself with you, it’s opposite, really. When I’m with you I get to drop all that bullshit at the door. Girls in the past have just wanted me because I was scary but seeing the way you flinched just now, I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me.” Steve confessed.

Maybe it’s time to tell him about the engagement, let him know where you’re coming from. You blew out a shaky breath and looked away from him again.

“I, um, I’m not scared of you. Years ago I was engaged to a man and things were really bad, he was really bad. I’m not ready to talk about all of it but that’s why I shut down on you when you snapped. I’ve been through a lot of therapy and I’m still working on it, but I’m not afraid of you. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it’s… kind of a sore subject” you admitted.

Steve’s nostrils flared and his grip on your hand tightened a little but you could tell he was trying everything he could to school his features and reply to you.

“I… didn’t know that I’m sorry.” he said as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. “If you ever wanna talk about it more, I’m here. And if you don’t, I understand.”

You stood from your chair and came around behind him to throw your arms around his neck. You kissed his cheek and rested your head against his.

“Thank you for listening and apologizing. I forgive you. And if you wanna talk about your day then I’m here.” You assured him.

Steve turned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss which you reciprocated. Steve stood to his full height without breaking the kiss and brought his hands up to frame your face. The warmth was comforting again to you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he elicited the softest of sighs before returning your passion.

He broke the kiss while his hands explored your curves. “I want to make it up to you, will you let me do that, sweetheart?” he asked.

You could only look up at him with eyes blown wide with lust and affection. You nodded and he kissed you swiftly before leading you to your bedroom. You were holding his hand when he let go and softly urged you backwards onto the bed. You obliged and soon he was on top of you laying feather-light kisses to the column of your neck.

Your hands mussed his hair and smoothed out the tension in his shoulders as you held onto him. He kissed his way lower and lifted up the hem of our shirt and kissed his way back up to your breasts. You sat up slightly and took off your top and unhooked your bra, letting it fall before throwing it to the side. Steve took turns taking your nipples between his teeth and teasing them, licking and kissing them. He knew it always made you squirm and would build the anticipation before you could even touch him.

“Steve, please.” You whined.

Wordlessly he kissed and bit his way lower and undid your shorts. You arched your back to help him remove them along with your panties. Steve wasted no time and administered the smallest of licks to your clit. You gasped slightly at the feeling when you felt two fingers prodding your entrance before going in. Your body was getting accustomed to the initial wave of pleasure brought on by Steve’s movement and slowly you ground your hips against his hand and cried out softly.

Normally Steve would never let that fly, he was always so controlling and dominant in bed but tonight was different. Tonight was soft and he was making it up to you, showing his love in a physical way. So he let you push him deeper and raise your hips just so to reach the perfect angle. You felt yourself tighten around him and this is the point he usually slows down just to drag things out but your loud cries only fueled him as he doubled his efforts. With a final cry you came around his fingers, white heat blinding your vision momentarily.

You caught your breath and looked down at Steve. His beard was absolutely drenched and he sucked his fingers clean. You could almost cum again just from the sight of it. He wiped his mouth on a tissue before returning to you to give you a kiss. You tasted yourself on him but you didn’t care, you just wanted his mouth on yours. You felt his erection pressing against your thighs and it had you squirming all over again. You reached to undo his belt when he stopped you.

“This night is supposed to be about you, doll. I’ll be fine” He protested.

You shook your head at him. “I want you, all of you. Please, Steve”, you begged.

He nodded and undid his belt. You helped undress and when he was finally naked you felt the rush of heat to your core all over again, an itch you couldn’t scratch. You laid back further on the bed and soon he was above you, face inches from yours and one arm at the side of your head.

His cock nudged against your core and entered slowly to stretch you out. You moaned deeply and when he was all the way in he kissed you passionately and began moving. It didn’t take much for him to pick up the pace as he started to fuck you. He swore under his breath at the feeling of you.

“You’re so, so, good sweetheart. So fuckin’ good.” He praised.

His words made you keen as you let the feeling of him making love to you take you over completely. His lips grazed yours in between grunts and he moved one hand to your clit while the other cradled the back of your head. You held onto his shoulders tightly and sobbed out pleas for him to keep going. His thrusts picked up speed and so did his hand. You were so close to the edge and you could feel he was too.

“I love you” he panted out before his hips lunged forward into you one last time before he came inside of you.

The shock of his confession and his work on your clit triggered your second orgasm. It was powerful and had you clawing his back and gasping in pleasure. He’d never said that before. Did he mean it? You looked to him for the answer but his lips caught yours as he gave a few last lazy thrusts. He finally collapsed to your side and was heaving to catch his breath.

You both laid there basking in the afterglow of the makeup sex for a few minutes. You turned on your side to look at him. He was so perfect like this, so at ease.

“Did you.. Mean it? What you said?” You questioned nervously. You really wanted him to mean it.

He turned slowly to look at you and he was blushing. “Yeah, I did. I know it’s kind of soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I couldn’t help it. I love you” he confided.

“I love you too, I’m not just saying it cause I feel like I have to, I love you Steve Rogers. All of you.” you assured him.

The softest of kisses was laid on your lips. This moment with him was perfect.

“I can’t believe you love me. I’m so sorry about earlier. I feel so comforted when I’m with you, the last thing I want is to lose you. I promise I will do everything I can to never be like your ex. Ever. If I’m being a dick I want you to tell me,” He apologized again.

You were about to respond when his stomach let out the loudest groan. You both laughed as you sat up.

“I did promise you dinner. Unburned this time!” Steve pledged as he helped you gather up your clothes.

“That’s a promise I’m going to hold you to, Rogers.”

#steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #Mob!Au #mafia!au #soft!Mob!Steve Rogers #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #botanical interest

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asstrolo · 3 years

Text

a lil tarot love reading for the signs on this V-Day

very little, almost minuscule; this is not necessary romantic and it focuses on the energy that Valentine’s Day lefts on the signs for the next few weeks

check sun/moon/rising/VENUS, i also recommend stellium and dominant signs!

aries: if you’ve been dealing with past emotions for a while maybe this Valentine’s Day made you want or forced you to move on, or you’ve been trying hard to do so, the journey is long and never linear, but this could have been blocking NEW things, so work hard on the present these next weeks, i see the most important thing here is the money and a new-found independency that’ll be so good for you, you’ve been blocking your own blessing for something that is past, so now remember that what’s past is past, the future, even the prersent m,oment looks promising, cause good things will come if you put your focus in the present time, or even in the future

taurus: have you been feeling emotionally drained or restricted? your feelings are all over the place, in the past maybe someone betrayed your trust or you gave a manipulative person too much control over your life, now you feel super drained and tired, don’t feel like arguing or fighting anymore, if this is about a person then you’re done or too tired to deal with them and the repercussions, don’t worry, this was maybe a good decision and you’re going to focus on more IMPORTANT things, maybe self-love or doing things that de-stress you and give you joy, that’s very needed, take care of yourself mentally, physically and ✨ aesthetically ✨

gemini: there’s something here you wanted to happen so bad, maybe related to a person and you had very high expectations on this situation, almost too high, unrealistic, the situation was not met how you wanted it to, maybe you were too impulsive on your decisions, or trusting someone, you might have been lied to and this is why things didn’t went how you expected them to, but, if the truth hasn’t come out yet, it will very soon in this mercury rx, you are about to be shocked, if it already happened it was super quick almost unexpectedly, don’t beat yourself up for trusting this person, it’s ok, the truth about something is about to come out for everyone to know, they might get what they deserve

cancer: okay there was, or still is a situation that has you very dependent on something, you can’t be free, you feel very emotionally tied to a result or to a person and this has made you to lose countless days thinking of them and the outcome of something, while you still want to do your work and act like nothing happened, you can’t, you’re trying to juggle and balance a lot of things right now and it’s not good for your mental health, you feel defeated and like you lost something very important to you, don’t go around pretending you didn’t, if you wanna get over this then you have to acknowledge it

leo: if you’ve been hurting or in a bad emotional state right now, you’re using drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc, to make you feel better and you know this, you know you’re just distracting yourself from thinking of something, if you know this, you ALSO know that it’s not working, maybe for a little bit, but you always come back tot he same mindset, don’t worry tho, if you’re aware of your bad habits and addictions then you know that you must change them, somebody hurted you really badly in the past or very recently, and you just can’t forget about them or the feeling and the pain, it’s time to see the bigger picture, have more self-love, look inward to why you do what you do and how it affects your mental health and emotional health, so many good things will come if you do the job!

virgo: for you there might have been an abrupt change that did a very significant change on you and your surroundings, it could be this overwhelming transformation or you’re just not welcoming this change, change it’s necessary guys! you must let things go with the flow and don’t try to control everything, there’s a chance for unity and communication here, if you have a person then you MUST let these fears go, you can’t control what’s gonna happen, take a risk, i know you wanna take care of your emotions and not getting hurted, but this looks good, even your friends might be supporting this new relationship or the person you like is a really close friend, that’s why you’re so scared things might not work out, but why fear something that hasn’t happened? enjoy the present moment

libra: there’s a situation here for a few of you, maybe you left someone else in the cold or they left you, maybe you’re going to apologize to someone or this person is coming with an apology of how things ended, but, if this last one’s the case, by the time this person comes you’ll be over it! the apology will not be needed, you have founded inner peace and moving on from this to a more positive place, it’s your choice to accept or not said apology, you’ll have new-found strength after this, since in the past you felt very stagnant and like there was no moving forward, like you were stuck in this thought and this situation most of the time, please don’t lose hope if this is the case! you’ll rely more on yourself now than in other’s so you’ll be more confident

scorpio: this is a complicated situation you are, o were in, there’s something you did out of impulse that now, thinking of it, you regret it greatly, maybe you got mad and said things you didn’t meant to, now you can’t rest because of this, you have all that’s necessary to fix or move on from this situation yet you’re lacking better judgement or other point of view, there’s something bad that’s gonna happen if you don’t sit down and talk this out, or reflect on the past, don’t get anxious, don’t blame yourself for everything, be rational, look for a second opinion if needed, you need to rethink your steps before moving forward, if you do this, the hard work you’ve been doing to keep this connection or to keep your mental health..., well, healthy, will not be in vain, look inwards, don’t criticize yourself so much, after all you’re just human

sagittarius: this one is a lot, if you’ve been pursuing a goal it probably did not come to fruition, it’s most likely you gave away all your time and energy into something that didn’t gave you anything in return so you were left tired and with no accomplishments, this can be because you’ve been working too hard and haven’t been taking care of your mental health, it’s at risk of becoming your main problem, if it isn’t already, there’s a lot of self-doubt and self-hate even, if something did not turned out how you wanted it to, beating yourself for it it’s not gonna help anyone, not you, not your future projects, you need a BREAK, you need to breath and stop trying to do everything all at once, especially if you have depression please rest, you’re too stressed right now

capricorn: you’ve been pursuing something that, at first, seemed to give good results and motivated you to keep going, but maybe you were using this thing to distract yourself from something else? sooner than later something or a connection with someone started to go south, maybe even unexpectedly because you are going through something you haven’t told anybody or you haven’t told your person about it and this makes the relationship feels stuck or weird, you’re going through a transformation, a test, a change, and you don’t want to see that this person or situation are changing you whole, accept that change it’s good, you’ve been lacking a lot of self-confidence and you might even think they don’t want you the same way you do, but this is why communication is important! don’t let your fears rule over you, you’re worthy of love, talk to them, a surpise might occur

aquarius: you’ve been too stuck in your own ways, your way is the only right one, you’ve been kinda selfish and even unreliable in work, friendships or in a relationship, maybe this is a way of protecting yourself from hurting, but it feels very defensive, you’re not telling the truth about your feelings or your situation, trying to act tough can only work for so long, if you have something to say or feelings you wanna talk about do it, don’t get mad and act indifferent, it won’t help you at all, if there’s a person or a situation in work/self, you don’t know what to do, all the decisions look bad, but you have to choose either way, to stay or to go, to talk or to be silent, but choose one, this maybe has more to do with a person and a relationship, but it can also be with yourself, happiness and celebration will come if you TRULY talk about what’s on your mind to them, don’t be scared!

pisces: okay, there’s a situation that made you back down and retire from socializing for awhile, there was something you were fighting for, but as of now, honestly? you kind of left it there, maybe you’re looking for a more peaceful solution or approach, or you’re not doing anything about it at all, like you stopped fighting for that thing and you’ve been trying to focus on other things, maybe this situation will solve itself out, or it was the one that is making you feel so small right now, like it took away a lot of your confidence, but you’re on your way to taking that back, being alone seems like the only way of healing from this situation right now, good for you! if a situation was making you feel bad or like you needed to fight to be with that person, then it wasn’t worth it

ROLES CAN BE REVERSED. Take what resonates and if it doesn’t don’t come @ me please.

REBLOG SO IT GETS TO MORE PEOPLE PLSS!!!

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

Ｂｏｔｈｅｒ

📎Word Count: 2.2k

📎Warning/s: smut! minors DNI. mean!fuckboy!bucky x f!reader. unprotected sex. little to no foreplay, because, well, he just wants to get his dick wet. denied orgasm :( no aftercare too lol he’s an asshole in this one. messy facial! some heckin’ words.

📎A/N: jesus fuckiNG CHRIST okay this is one of my longer fics, i’m trying to get back into writing long fics again so, bear with me. fuckboy!bucky playlist to accompany you while reading this <3

📎reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed! shower me with validation pls

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The bass line and the drumbeat made your heart pump in sync. The room reeked of cheap drinks and expensive perfume—sweaty patrons swirling, mingling around, keeping their drinks cold, their hearts warm.

Chatter peaked when the band finished the song, a round of applause rising the frontman’s ego. The spotlight shone brightly on him, the stage lights hitting his back, lighting up his silhouette with pinks and purples.

He beams with adrenaline. All perfect smiles.

Slinging his stickered guitar to the side, he speaks into the mic, “thank you all for coming. We’ve been The Commandos. Goodnight!” The frontman flashes his million-dollar, megawatt smile and bows, earning another applause from the audience.

The rest of the band slinked out the back, bowing, giving out air-kisses and waves. Another band piles onto the stage, waving hello to the gathering crowd.

You sigh, the bottom of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor of the bar. The overhead lights of the bar a bright yellow contrast to the stage’s red hue. The beer in your hand condensing, the tips of your fingers damp in the process. The warmth of the place piling on your impatience.

Pushing yourself off the bar, you make your way to the back, one thing echoing in your mind. Familiar faces crowd your vision, sending a polite smile their way.

A door stands in front of you, the wood stained with stickers and posters and autographs. You knock twice before turning the knob.

“Where’s Bucky?” You say, leaning against the door frame. The door slowly swings open.

A blonde man, what’s-his-face, looks at you and puts down a pair of drumsticks, “‘Dunno what to tell ya, but he’s not here.”

Your roll your eyes, sending him a mirthless smile, “yeah, obviously. I was hoping if you could tell him to meet me tonight.”

Steve—you suddenly remembered his name—eyed you head to foot, a smirk plastered on his face, “Sounds important. Why don’t you hang out with us while waiting for him?”

A chuckle escapes your lips, “no, thanks. I’ll meet him outside.”

Steve makes a face, quirking a light brow to the rest of the group. All of them sharing the same look, “alright. Suit yourself.”

The clock ticks just ten minutes after 11, your patience growing thin as a needle. A gaggle of drunk patrons stumbles out the door when you spot him—leather jacket, distressed, ripped pants.

“Where’s my ring?” Without missing a beat.

Bucky’s lips quirk into a smirk, “whoa, baby, we fucked once,” he made you come thrice, “and you’re asking for a ring already?”

A shiver runs up your spine, whether it’s from disgust or something else, it wasn’t clear, “you know what I meant. I left my ring on your nightstand.”

“Deliberately, or…”

Your hands curl up in frustration, your left shin itching, “c’mon. Do you have it or not?”

His intentionally undone boots scuffed against the floor as he stalks closer to you, his perfume invading your olfactory senses. Oh, he smells good.

“D’you wanna find out?” His voice dropping a couple of octaves, whispering into the shell of your ear. His thick arms caging you against the bar and the wall. Fuck, he smells really good.

A feeble attempt to make room goes unnoticed, your breath hitching in your throat, “If you don’t have it on you, I’d gladly receive it through the mail.”

Bucky licks his tinged lips, a vein in his temple ticking—the lighting reflecting in his blue eyes, “why would I mail it to you when you can pick it up from my place?”

A rational voice in your head echoes, fighting with your impulse. The closeness of both of your bodies radiating warmth and electricity.

“Fine.” You relented, impulsivity is what got you there in the first place.

The drive to the place shouldn’t take too long, the little shit deliberately took the long way to his place.

While you sit on the passenger side of his car, he keeps sending you amused glances. As if he couldn’t believe you’d willingly go with him tonight. Well, technically, it really wasn’t part of your plan.

“You wanna get burgers first?” He offers, lowering the music coming from the car’s stereo.

“I wanna get my ring back, Bucky.” You say, reminding him—and yourself—of what your agenda for tonight is.

He dismisses you, as per usual. And pulls over a drive-through of a local burger place, ordering himself a meal.

Instead of getting back out on the highway, he parks the car, rolls down the window, and eats.

“Jesus- fuck, Bucky!” You exclaimed in frustration, “look, if you want to waste my time, then-”

“Then, what?”

“Then go fuck yourself.” You left in a huff, swinging your legs and slamming the car door shut. Hoping that he’d go deaf in one ear.

Making sure that you’re well visible and in a brightly-lit place, you pull out your phone to book an Uber. Only to find Bucky making his way to you for the second time tonight.

“Hey!” Didn’t even used your name to call you, great work!

“I do have it, it’s really back in my place. By the lamp on the bedside table.” The truth lingers out on the night air, waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You meet Bucky’s statement with a wary squint, he meets your rightful doubt with a smile.

“No more stopovers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky’s place is a liminal space for you.

The familiar shadows and corners welcome you, the surfaces on where your bare skin sat hissed at you. You stood by the doorway, not wanting to prolong the journey.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s just me. Sit down.” Exactly, it is him.

You shake your head, leaning by the wall like a stranger, “I’m good. You’re not gonna take long anyway.”

But instead of retrieving your jewelry, his form retreats to the kitchen. A few seconds pass and you hear the crack and hiss of a beer bottle being opened.

“Y’know, I think I’ll just get it myself.” You toe off your shoes, placing them by the door. Your jacket still hanging off your shoulders.

You passed by Bucky, walking towards a love seat, two beers on one hand, “hurry up, then. Got a drink for ya.”

Hazy images play by memory the last time you were here, his damn cologne seeping into your nostrils.

Your head hanging by the edge of the bed as he laps your cunt like a man starved.

The headboard supporting your balance as you bounce up and down his thick cock.

Carpeting that gave your knees burn as he fucked you from behind.

Like an etch-a-sketch, you shake your head to get rid of the scenes that made themselves known.

A shining glint from the bedside table catches your eye, you swipe the ring and stashed it down your jacket pocket.

Coming out of the room with your ring, your slight smile falters as you saw Bucky lounging shirtless. As rightfully so, this is his home anyway.

You steeled yourself despite the heat that’s making its way up to your neck, “uh, I already got it. Thanks, Bucky.”

He shoots you a look—a lingering one. Like a predator about to pounce on prey. His stare chasing the goosebumps under your clothes.

“You sure you wanna go? It’s–” he glances at his phone for the time, “–past midnight.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” The setup.

“How about I take care of you for a change?” The trap.

And then just as sudden as your arrival, you find yourself pressed up against the wall. The agenda of the night has already been forgotten.

Bucky’s mouth finds its temporary home on your jaw, moving down your neck. His large hands already clawing their way under your shirt, the suddenness of the moment stirring the heat in your belly.

Rushed hands and panted breaths meet feverish lips.

The moment his tongue slipped into your mouth was the moment where you lost all inhibitions. Your hands fly to his nape, tugging his hair, effectively making him moan into your mouth.

“You know me so well.” He purrs against your lips. Hitching your legs up his hips as he presses you harder against the drywall.

“Lots of people know you so well.” You bite back, knowing for a fact that he sees others behind your back.

“True,” he’s murmuring against your pulse point and you sigh, “you’re my favorite though.”

Your jacket clutters against the floor of his bedroom, along with his pants and your shirt. A yellow stream of light emits from the living room.

Bucky tosses you on the bed, sending the pillows crashing on the floor. Though the room is darkened with curtains, your eyes adjust enough to see him as he pulls your ankles towards him.

His abs are chiseled like a Greek god, his skin tanned, decorated with tattoos. His left nipple adorns a stainless steel piercing. Like the last time, he grabs your hand, trailing it along his torso, letting you feel his deep v-lines.

A lewd moan escapes your lips as you cup his hardening cock through his boxers. Thick and heavy, a perfect fit.

“You like it?” Bucky taunts, jutting his hips against your hand. You squeeze him lightly, earning you a deep groan from the man above you.

His hand suddenly tightens around your throat, pulling your head towards him, “I asked you a question.”

Giving him a small nod and a meek yeah seemed to have sufficed until he flips you on your stomach and forces your face down the bed.

Your skirt joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your panties do too.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Bucky taunts, one thick finger swiping the wetness between your folds. Spreading it around as preparation. A muffled confirmation made him chuckle as he pinches your clit with intention.

Taking his leaking cock out of his boxers, he swipes the bead of precum from his angry-red tip. He takes his sweet, sweet time before even thinking about pushing into your pussy.

Bucky drags the head of his cock up and down your fold, earning a needy moan from you—coating his entire length with your wetness.

After seemingly an eternity on your side, the sheets already imprinted their impression on the side of your cheek. Bucky finally, fucking finally, pushes into you. A short, white-hot burn shoots through your nerves, making you whimper.

His hand stays on the back of your neck, pushing you further down the bed as he moves. Your pussy lips gripping his dick like a vice, “so fucking tight. God.”

Bucky’s chest swelled up with pride as he notices your fingers digging into his sheets, “no one can fuck you this good.”

The bed squeaks with both of your weight shifting as he reaches around you, his fingers working around your bud. The pressure of his upper body makes you gasp with every thrust of his hips.

He continues to work you—his fingers circling tightly on your throbbing clit, his cock nudging the soft, spongy spot in you. Your toes curl with red heat as your orgasm begins to burn up your legs.

“I’m gonna-- ‘m so close,” your pleas fell on deaf ears as Bucky chases his own high. His balls slapping against your skin, his hips stuttering as his cock pulsates inside your velvet walls.

He curses, grabbing your shoulder and flipping you upside, kneeling before you. His hand pumping his dick continuously as it twitches—the veins even more prominent.

“Open your mouth, I’m gonna cum in it.” Bucky orders and you obey. Your fingers finding their way to your abandoned bundle of nerves—your climax threatening to fade away.

Thick ropes of cum shoot over your mouth, painting your lips and chin white as he misses.

“God, fuck, look at your mess.” Bucky sighs, he’s already tucked back into his boxers and handing you a shirt—presumably to clean yourself up.

“You got your ring? Anything else?” The annoyance in his tone is evident. The clock ticks half past midnight.

You dangle your purse in front of him as a gesture, the wind picks up and your shoes are loose on your feet.

“Alright, well, you could wait for your ride here, I guess.” Bucky dropped the act the moment he got his dick in you.

“Yeah, he’s just around the corner. Thanks for the, uh, ring.”

He hums, looking at his phone. His thumbs dancing over the keyboard, “Try not to bother my friends again when you wanna reach me.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or to smack the phone out of his hands, “yeah. Tried calling you but I’m pretty sure you blocked my number.”

A curt laugh echoes out from him, “‘m sorry. Out of habit. You know how it is.”

“Right.” And an awkward beat falls over the both of you.

A black car pulls up by the street and you silently thank the stars. By the time you turn around to at least do the right thing and bid Bucky goodnight, you find yourself facing a closed door.

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l-crimson-l · 2 years

Text

I posted 10,470 times in 2021

80 posts created (1%)

10390 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 129.9 posts.

I added 929 tags in 2021

#daughter squad - 326 posts

#azur lane - 229 posts

#snuggle zone identified - 80 posts

#❤️ - 52 posts

#tactical headpat deployed - 48 posts

#shuba shuba - 48 posts

#apex predator - 47 posts

#certified qtpi - 40 posts

#moomers - 30 posts

#wah - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 56 characters

#❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

My Top Posts in 2021

What an absolute Chad. She picked up the RG too. What excellent taste

34 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 12:53:58 GMT

how hot - duke of york, perseus, surtr, and pramanix? ty for the food though, its so hard finding even semi-sfw azur lane pics, you truly do us all a service - azurlaneimagines

Mmm Mmm yes comf ship ladies are the best :3 Duke of York Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY Powerful vampire lady with the firepower and drive to obliterate anything you put in front of her? *Chefs Kiss* i haven't 120'd her yet but i do appreciate how her voice lines change after oath. While not one of my top KGV ships def one of my favorites. just don't tell her i also oathed Howe

Perseus Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY Honestly, Wow. Her art is better than some PR ships! Owls Cools!! But aside from her cute Tsun/introvert act she puts on (before you oath her, bonus points for extra lines after oath) she genuinely seems like someone you’d wanna just spend the day with on a nice fall/spring day just vibin. That aside her whole, Tsun to friendly, thing low-key reminded me of myself (im super introverted before im comfortable with someone) so bonus points there too! Yostar plz give her a comf skin

See the full post

41 notes • Posted 2021-09-08 21:11:23 GMT

Finished bofuri today, I feel like it’s just optimal storytelling to just let the animation team just dick around and then write a story based off of that, as that is the only way I can rationalize what transpired

The sheer amount of fun everyone is having from the author to the animators is just palpable and I am 100000% here for it

Like I know New Game’s author wrote NG to fall in love with game design again (iirc) so I would LOVE to learn why Bofuri’s author decides to make it bc everything is just an absolute joy to experience

42 notes • Posted 2021-06-07 00:57:52 GMT

OHHHHHHH FUCK YEA LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

74 notes • Posted 2021-11-18 03:43:51 GMT

107 notes • Posted 2021-06-14 18:09:33 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #only really sharing bc Ayaya top #azur lane #❤️

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shinsoups · 3 years

Text

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class1a

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

super random updates

a/n: canon Shinsou is joining hero class for their second year but I'm gonna make him part of Class 1A already yay! ALSO IM ON MOBILE IDK HOW TO PUT A *KEEP READING CUT* will edit this tomorrow 🙏🏻 sorry for the long post on your dash

OO5 : Acceptance...Is that a Threat? —

"You're already enrolled and your safety was entrusted to us."

"No, I'm sorry but I think I had enough." You hoarsely whispered. "I already got the answer what I was looking for."

Aizawa stopped in his tracks, his hands buried in his pockets as he watches you struggle to reply. "And that is?"

"The Hero scene isn't cut out for me." You bravely look at his eyes, slowing down your pace and faced him, catching Shinsou's gaze just behind your teacher.

"I don't want to fight nor hurt anyone to save lives. I want to save lives as a doctor if possible. And if you think that proper guidance is that one thing I need then you're wrong, sensei. I don't need that, please don't patronize me."

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm but the way you somehow push the wrong buttons and say things so straighforward makes him want to knock some sense in to you and tell you that there is more to being a hero. But the way you fidget somehow caught his watchful eyes. Aizawa squinted as you kept glancing towards him and behind him, catching a certain purple head boy passing you two.

You fiddled your hands nervously, seeing another gaze settling on your figure. Still feeling the pain on your shoulder, Aizawa walked closer to where you stood.

"You're scared of him," he said in-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"I am not."

"Because he can control you," he taunted.

Is Aizawa even a teacher right now? Why is he so pressed into this matter? You thought to yourself as you felt his presence even closer, caging you and your thoughts... your fears that someone actually exists that can easily negate your own self defense quirk. You bowed your head, averting your gaze.

"l/n-san, you don't like being controlled don't you?" Aizawa sighs seeing how your body trembles at the mention of the word.

You looked up wide eyes, straining to retort something but words fail to escape your mouth. Instead a nonsensical challenge transpired between the two of you. Shinsou held his breath, wanting to intervene the moment he saw Aizawa’s eyes glowing red and hearing your whispered exchanges. Only for Bakugou to block his way, enjoying the scene unfolding in front of them.

Everyone was silently hoping there was a good reason why Aizawa was suddenly fighting you just after finishing the Hero Training exercise. His hair flared up as he tried to capture you with his scarf, only for you to dodge and glare at your teacher.

“You didn’t fight Shinsou and Bakugou. Is that how you like to win?,” Aizawa’s voice echoed as you run towards the exit. Trying your best not to bump into someone along the way.

At the back of your mind there was a tiny voice telling you that they’re all judging you and your intentions was so unclear to be there at the Hero Course. That you don't deserve to be there. And they were right. But...

"You can become stronger if you train against him and with him. Maybe find a reason why he of all people can do that to you..."

You scoffed, amazed by how a teacher can agitate you with such simple words. Your grandfather was worse, his training methods were the worst, the hero exercise earlier pale in comparison to what you experienced. You only learned self defense in order to protect and not fight.

And to see this class filled with hopeful heroes to be are trained in order to fight for the justice they believe is such a ludicrous notion it made you wonder... why train them in the first place only for the HPSC to control everything? You gag at the toxic hero worship everyone seems to adapt. Is everyone foolishly blind? Foolishly following such trend? Or were you the blind one?

Gritting your teeth, you spat the words angrily. You stopped running and charged into him instead, “I still won. You got what you wanted, sensei. My Quirk... you saw it with your own eyes. So why do I have to hurt someone if the only goal is to win?”

With that said you side-stepped away from the white material coursing your way only to meet another set of it the moment you evaded Aizawa’s.

The rest of the class tried their best to avoid the both of you, still confused about what's going on. "She really likes to pick a fight doesn't she?" Kaminari watches as you gracefully dodge each of Aizawa's attempt to capture you.

"Sensei's erasing quirk is useless against her too," Midoriya mumbled, amazed once again with this new information. "I thought it was only fire quirks that were affected but I'm guessing she can --"

Midoriya's words were cut off when he saw Shinsou walked closer, carefully threading in the sidelines.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"I-I think everyone should calm down." Shinsou looked over you then to Aizawa who was shocked that his own protege captured him with his own binding technique.

"y/n-san" Shinsou pulled you into him, trapping you with his binding cloth for the second time after releasing Aizawa. "I don't know what's going on, but -" he looks at his mentor then back to you.

"Release me."

"No."

"Shinsou!"

"No!" he pulled you closer.

"Take it off."

Shinsou raised his eyebrows, smirking at the tone you used. He tried to hold his smile but the way you whispered those three words somehow made you two blush at the weird notion.

You bit your lips in embarrassment as you felt his breath on your cheeks, "No."

"Please?" you sighed, trying to calm yourself down. Too close...he's too close.

Shinsou looks back up at his teacher. "Sensei-"

Aizawa’s face was more unreadable as he walks closer, Shinsou was trying to figure out what his mentor's expression means. Aizawa simply stares at the both of you, a strange look both of you can't read.

Shinsou takes a deep breath, and goes on, “I shouldn't probably intervened but she's...she's injured because of me.” he looks away, too shy with the reason he came up with, now a small tinge of red powdering his nose.

There was a long pause. Aizawa merely nods. Shinsou opens his mouth, wanting to say something more but the words don’t come.

Giving into another temptation and succumbing to the curiousity budding, you rationalized the choices in your head. Do you want to fight him? Or do you wanna know how far he can use his quirk against you. About what he said earlier, were you scared people will resent you or maybe you really are scared of yourself.

"Fine." you murmured. "I accept the offer."

"Offer?" Shinsou looks momentarily confused about the exchange.

"Good. Now please do me a favor and stop being another problem child." Aizawa pats your head and walks away as if nothing had happened. "I'm not getting paid enough for this." he mutters to himself as he looked between you and Shinsou leaving you two behind and calling the whole class to go change back into their uniforms.

"Were you always a pushover?" Shinsou asks out of curiosity as he frees you.

"I am not!"

He watches as you contorted your face into a pout, your nose scrunching in annoyance as you rub your arms. With cheeks puffed out you glared at him, "I'm going to crush you, so you better know what's coming.”

"Is that a threat?"

You pat his shoulder bravely making him flinch at the sudden contact "No. It's a declaration of war."

The heat rises to his cheeks, his cool and passive demeanor suddenly melts aways as he chuckles lowly, accepting the declaration you just announced. "Then be ready to taste defeat this next time."

Curiosity was one thing you don't like but what you really hate the most is not finding answers to satisfy your own. So this time, you might as well go all the way in satisfying the curiosity growing.

"Then try me. Bring it on, hero."

a/n: the story is progressing so slow skdkkskec i just want to stress the part that y/n hates the idea of hero worship... Probably due to one of the many traumas she endured during her childhood.

But still she's a very curious cat, Shinsou unknowingly being the reason why she accepted Aizawa's offer once again.

ps: this is not proofread 🤧 will edit laters~

taglist: @sugarandsoft @roesaurus @moonlightbae14 @therealwalmartjesus @redperson58 @i-bitch-you-bitch @allie-munoz @seijohoe @riathearora

general taglist: @b0ku4ka @chibishae34 @skusamiya

i got a taglist im soft ~ want to join? just leave a comment or shoot an ask my dudes and dudettes ✨

likes, comments and reblogs is highly appreciated 🐣

this is my first time writing bnha so tips and comments are really helpful ! ✨

#shinsou hitoshi #class 1a #aizawa shouta #bnha #shinsou hitoshi x f!reader #class 1a x f!reader #bnha fic #hitoshi shinso #sey writes #🔖: student no. 22

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Hot Blood [1]

Warnings: non-consent sex

This is dark! (mob) skinny Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there.

Note: This will only be two parts because I couldn’t fit it into a oneshot. Yes, I took liberties in terms of not making Steve brittle as a twig so forgive me for that. Also this is back in the 1940s, so keep that in mind. :) Otherwise, I love writing my skinny boy and hope you like it too.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You wanna prove you're the better man You wanna reach for the things that nobody can

🌆

You checked your watch as you strode down the sidewalk. You felt the snugness of the bundle just under your jacket as you pulled your hat lower over your eyes. At the right angle, you seemed a man about his business. A closer look and you were nothing but a woman in pinstripe trousers.

Another day, another drop. You were tiring of the tawdry tasks but the reality of your position, of your sex, was inevitable. The men were back from the war and the women were expected to return to their kitchens. Well, most of them.

It was easier in the days before victory. When you were the one sending others on your tasks. But Vic had survived his campaign in Italy and he was back with a vengeance, and few scars. The only thing which kept him from tossing you entirely was that you’d kept his organization afloat in his absence. You’d even thrown the feds off his trail and onto another’s.

Even so, life wasn’t what it was. You had to take orders, had to swallow your pride. Well, it was better than living as some bastard’s wife; better than a secretary in a tight skirt. You checked the time again and looked ahead to the brick building with the rusted horseshoe over its door.

You neared and leaned against the bricks. You turned to face the street and watched pedestrians pass. You knocked with your elbow. Two knocks, a pause, then three more. You waited and listened. The door shifted and you spun quickly as you muttered “iodine” and the code word saw you past the man on the other side.

And yet, another change. The warehouse was empty. You looked to the man who’d answered the door. It wasn’t the usual fellow. You frowned and your hand went to your waist and felt the wooden inlay of your pistol.

“Wouldn’t do that,” The man warned. “Boss is on his way. He doesn’t care for corpses. Too much clean up.”

“Boss?” You kept your hand poised but didn’t draw. “And who exactly is your boss?”

“People fall for that?” He ignored your question as he pointed to your jacket.

“Fall for what?”

“You don’t exactly fill out a three-piece,” He reached into your pocket and you gripped your gun. He pulled out a silver cigarette case and popped it open. “Well, you know…” He gestured to his shoulder, “In some ways.”

You scoffed and shook your head as he offered you a smoke. He shrugged and put one between his lips.

“You didn’t tell me who your boss was,” You said as he struck a match and lit the cigarette.

“Vic didn’t tell you?” He asked. “Heli don’t run Brooklyn anymore.”

“He mentioned there was trouble but there always is in Brooklyn,” You tilted your head and ran your finger along your pistol handle.

He chuckled and took a drag.

“Bucky,” He held out his hand. “Boss will be here soon.”

You shook his hand and retreated, pacing two steps back and forth as you waited.

“This isn’t how it goes. I drop the money and go.” You stopped. “Never more than five minutes.”

“You got somewhere to be?” He asked. “You must be popular with the boys. Hell, war was so long, they’d fuck a hole in the wall.”

“I usually tell em to use the wall,” You countered. “You’re boss better show in the next five minutes or--”

The back door of the warehouse opened and shut suddenly. You turned as a shadow fluttered in the small slats of light which peeked in through the high windows.

“Kid took a wrong turn,” The voice sounded as footsteps cut through the silence. “You get the money.”

“Drop’s right here,” Bucky said as he nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you saw the man who appeared before you. Short, slender; skinny, actually. Even his tailored suit added little to his figure and his chin seemed even sharper in contrast to the angles of his hat. His blue eyes met yours and he removed the hat.

“Miss,” He seemed as surprised as you felt.

You laughed. You didn’t mean to. You covered your mouth before you could guffaw and looked at Bucky.

“That the new boss man?” You asked.

“Steve Rogers,” The skinny man said tersely. “And yes, I’m the boss man so you talk to me, not him.”

“Course,” You said coolly. “Vic wants a single load through Brooklyn.” You carefully reached into your jacket and dislodged the bundle of money from the waist of your pants. “Tomorrow, clearance till noon.”

He watched you and then his eyes flicked to the money. Usually, they saw the green first.

“Your husband let you run around playing these games?” He asked.

“We know this isn’t a game,” You said. “And, if I did have a husband, he couldn’t keep me from my business.”

He chuckled.

“Sorry, I’m just, a little amused. I expected a man.” He said.

“Me, too,” You tossed the money at his feet. “But I guess they’re all busy doing the real work.”

His smile fell. He toed the money but didn’t take it.

“You gonna wear the pants, you gonna be treated like what you’re pretending to be,” He beckoned Bucky forward. “Cause I don’t see a lady.”

“No, you don’t,” You said defiantly as Bucky came closer.

Steve nodded and Bucky bent to grab the money. You held Steve’s gaze, the anger obvious in their glint as his narrow jaw ticked.

“Tell Vic he’s got til noon. Sharp.” He said. “Bucky, see her out.”

He put his hat back on and turned away. Bucky waved you away and you followed him back to the door. His hand rested on the metal handle and he paused.

“Put the torch to this place,” He said. “Next drop will be on our ground.”

“Sure,” You said and he pushed down.

“Oh,” Bucky stopped as he opened the door just a sliver. “I’m not much for advice but work on the lip. He won’t put up with that for long.”

“Not my boss,” You uttered. “He got his money.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shook his head and opened the door.

You stepped out into the sunlight and strode away. You’d have a word with Vic. You’d think he’d have enough sense to mention a change in personnel but he hadn’t had much sense since he returned.

🌆

You sat along the bar as voices buzzed in the late morning din. The old pub which had glowed during Prohibition had grown darker over the years. With rationing, it had become lifeless, barely revived in the post-war jubilance. It didn’t matter much; it had never been meant for just booze, merely a cover for more illicit trades.

As usual, Vic was in his office. He wasn’t the same talkative man he had been, though his temper had worsened. When he wanted to be heard, he made sure of it. His propensity for violence had turned to an indifference to violence. There was no barrier left between him and blood. His hair trigger made him vulnerable; it made you all vulnerable.

The bar door shook and you looked over. Several bangs before the latch busted and Donny burst in with Richie hanging from his shoulder. He dragged the bleeding man inside and dropped him onto the floor as he fell to his knees. You rose and quickly shut the door. No one used that door during the day.

“Get rags,” Arnold called and rushed behind the bar.

Donny’s arm was bleeding as Richie gripped his side, his hands red and wet. Arnold tossed you a rag and you bent beside Richie. You took his hand and pressed the rag between it and his side. You applied pressure as Donny tied up his arm with his belt.

“What fuck happened?” You ask as you leaned on Richie and tried to stem the flow.

Arnold ran out calling for Pauly. He’d been a medic during the war but tended to drink away whatever use he had left to the organization. He was likely sleeping off last night in one of the stinky rooms above that were rented out by the hour.

“Where’s the cargo?” Vic asked as he appeared in the broad archway which parted the barroom from the kitchen and his office.

“Christ, he’s bleeding out, Vic,” You hissed as Donny handed you another cloth and grabbed another for his arm.

“We got hit.” Donny leaned heavily on a stool. “It’s gone.”

“What the fuck?” Vic swore. “Who--”

“Rogers,” Richie gasped and you scrambled to keep the crimson from leaking past your fingers. “He said…”

“Take was short.” Donny finished. “Five shy.”

“Five shy. No, I gave him the right drop,” You insisted.

Arnold brushed by Vic and Pauly ambled in beside him. The former dropped the small chest of bandages and the like beside Richie as the latter came around to you and yawned as he knelt. He casually waved you away and took the rags from you. He peeked under them and pressed down.

“Got a lighter?” He asked. “Get me some tweezers.”

You held up your bloody hands and Arnold got down to search through the box ox of odds and ends.

“New boss, new prices,” Donny uttered. “S’what they said before they…” He looked at Richie and blanched.

“God fucking dammit, I new that little rat was up to no good,” Vic punched his palm. “Had the gall to come in here and put an offer down on this shit hole like he can buy what I built for a couple bills.”

“What?” You reeled as you tried to wipe clean your hands. “He made you an offer?”

“He’s a goddamn upstart,” He snarled. “I seen his kind back before the war, when the Depression had us scraping trash cans for dinner. He’d sell his own mother. Probably has.”

“How can he-- Heli didn’t have that much going on.” You argued.

“The twerp spent a couple years up in Chicago before he decided to come home and make his stake,” Vic said. “Too skinny to serve so he ran wild over there. Now he’s got a gun and some money and he thinks he can just take the whole city.”

“Hold him down!” Pauly yelled and you looked over as he was digging the tweezers into Richie’s side. The wail which rose was sickening.

“Vic, you didn’t even tell me he’d taken over,” You snarled. “Now I double counted that take but you’re the one who arranged it. He said fifteen not twenty, right?”

“I told him I wouldn’t give him any more than I did Heli.” He sneered.

“And?” You urged.

“He said we’d see. And I never heard nothing else.” He growled.

“You didn’t hear anything or you just made an assumption?”

“I handled worse over in Italy,” He grumbled. “Little twit doesn’t scare me.”

“It’s not just him,” You huffed.

It was so much easier when he was gone. You and Arnold had been a great team. He was too old to serve and he was wise; pragmatic. Don’t play big, play smart.

“Another word,” Vic warned. “I’m tired of the fucking mouth on you. Men go away for a couple years and all you bitches learned to bark.”

“If we hadn’t, you’d have nothing to come back to,” You retorted. “And I learned more than how to bark.”

“You think you know it all. You run around in your suits and play gangster, little girl.” He snarled. “I saw men holding their insides; I ran into a haze of bullets and you did what? Gave away your stockings and baked cakes without sugar.”

“You got a man holding his insides right here,” You snapped. “I should’ve let Crane have this place. I drove that snake out on my own. Me. So don’t you call me little girl.”

A knock interrupted him as his face turned red. The front door had fallen open as a figure leaned in the doorway. So slim it could only be one person. You reached for your gun along with Vic and Donny. The other men continued their struggle on the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rogers?” Vic pulled the hammer back on his gun.

“Wow,” Steve stopped a few feet inside and several men, including Bucky, entered behind him, guns in hand. “I’m not here for a fight, if I can help it. I’m here for the rest of my take.”

“You already shot my men. I don’t owe you shit.” Vic hissed.

Steve chuckled and put his hands on his hips. He looked to the floor, the blood, the whimpers, then to you. He took his hat off and nodded in your direction.

“But I see they’re still alive.” Steve said. “And I got your cargo. More than willing to hand it over so long as I get my dues.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that skinny fucking ass that kept out of the war; maybe it was that peanut brain,” Vic said.

“I’m all for negotiating,” Steve said coolly. “But I’m gonna need you to calm down, Victor.”

“Calm down. I want my goods.” He insisted. “And my money back.”

“I don’t often give warnings,” Steve’s voice was even and quiet. Scarily calm. “But I will allow you one. I will finish what my men started and then I will burn this place with your bodies inside of it. Then I will hunt down every man who ever tied himself to your limping horse and put them next to you in the ashes.”

“Bull,” Vic scoffed.

“Jeffrey, by the bridge,” Steve said. “Friendly guy. Knows a lot about the city. Gave me an interesting little map. Looks like safe houses… in your neighbourhood. I don’t need to barter with you, Victor, but I am, because I can be nice. I prefer it over having to get mean.”

“Jeffrey,” Vic shook his head. “That shit.”

“Oh yes, if it wasn’t for his ties out west, I’d already have done him in myself but… he has his uses.”

Silence but for Richie groans and the squelch of flesh and blood. You glanced between the two men. Vic looked tired. You realised he was halfway drunk.

“How long? For the five I owe you?” He slowly lowered his gun.

“How long?” Steve smirked. “I’m not leaving without it.”

“Don’t keep my safe here. That’d be too obvious.” Vic said.

“No? Or maybe… you don’t got it?” Steve challenged. “Besides, I can’t trust you to send anyone for it because I can’t have them returning with more than the bills, can I?”

Victor was quiet and you glanced back at him. He looked lost. It was a look which had become common for him. As if he was far away.

“But…” Steve said. “There is value beyond paper.”

“Take a cut,” You intoned as Vic remained speechless. “That would more than even the debt.”

“And have to sell it myself? No.” He said. “But I do see something that I want.”

Steve’s heels tapped on the old floorboards and he stopped before you. You stared at him then looked around. You lifted a brow as you looked back to him. He touched your gun and you lowered it. You wanted to raise it again but Richie’s cries tugged at your ears. He took the pistol.

“I’ll take her,” He touched the lapel of your jacket.

“What? No, that’s not--”

“Fine,” Vic agreed a little too quickly. “All yours. But I’ll let you know, she’s a mouthy one.”

“Oh, I know,” Steve winked at you. “But you won’t get anywhere if you’re not bold.”

“You can’t--”

“I can,” Steve leaned in as he lowered his voice. “Because if you leave this bar without me, you won’t get far. I put the word out and you’re dead before nightfall…” He straightened your jacket. “But I prefer you living.”

He drew back and walked back to his men.

“Truck’s out front. All is accounted for. Ledger’s are balanced.” He said. “For now.”

You were jolted forward as Bucky grabbed your arm. You hadn’t seen him approach and he easily dragged you along as Steve left with his men in tow. You were numb but angry. You struggled until Bucky had your arm twisted behind your back.

“I told you,” He said. “He doesn’t like the back talk.”

🌆

You were silent as you peered through the windshield then glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. Bucky had wrestled you into the car himself but it had taken the flash of a muzzle to get you to stay.

Steve sat beside you in the back of the long car. He still had your pistol in hand and you watched as he emptied the bullets and dropped them in his pocket. He turned the gun over in his hand and ran his fingertip along the wood inlay carved with intricate grooves.

“This is a nice piece,” He said.

He checked the chamber one last time and handed it back to you. You holstered the pistol and leaned into the door as you looked out onto the streets. The buildings were strangely familiar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You talking to me?” Steve countered. You turned to him and arched a brow. “Because when you are talking to me, you need to look at me, doll.”

“My name isn’t doll,” You crossed your arms. “This isn’t Brooklyn.”

“We’ll get to that,” He said. “You should be more than familiar with these slums.”

You squinted and shook your head.

“How did you--”

“I got eyes across the city and a woman like you sticks out,” He said. “Now, I’d like to forget our first meeting and start off on a better note.”

“Yeah? Do you usually buy people like race horses.” You scoffed.

“You’re a fine mare,” He grinned. “But that mouth does you a disservice.”

“So, what exactly do you want? You want me to say you’re a big man? Tell you you’re the boss?” You taunted. “I wonder how that ego fits in that body.”

“One thing at a time, doll,” He said.

“It’s not ‘doll’,” You growled.

He chuckled and propped his elbow up on the door.

“My eyes have ears. They’ve told me a lot about you.” He said. “Must be hard with all the men back in town. I dare say, you might have been rooting for the other side.”

“Oh?” Your nostrils flared at the implication. “You running with those double-dealing bastards down in Chicago and you’re accusing me of sedition.”

“Chicago was a stepping stone,” He waved you off. “And a valuable ally. This world’s a whole lot bigger than five boroughs.”

The car stopped and you looked past Steve. Your building stood just outside his window and you sighed.

“No doubt bigger than you,” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dumb enough to think you’re just giving me a ride home…”

“We got ten minutes,” He checked his watch as he opened his door. “Grab what you need. I got a schedule to keep.”

He got out and you pushed open your own door. You rounded the front of the car and peered down the sidewalk. You could run. The thought was tempting, but if Steve could figure out where you lived in less than a day, he could likely suss you out just as easily.

You followed him up the cracked walk of the building and he opened the grated door for you. You shot him a look before you stepped through. You fished around for your keys and unlocked the second metal door. He trailed you up the narrow staircase and you came to your door among the row of cramped apartments.

You entered with him behind you. His footsteps were light and barely disturbed the creaky floorboards. He closed the door swiftly as you glanced around your tiny home. There wasn’t much to it but it was yours.

He brushed past you and went to the small kitchen which was barely more than a sink and stove. He pulled open the drawers one at a time and shuffled through them.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He held up a box of bullets and shook them.

“Grab some clothes,” He said as he continued his search. “And anything else you need.”

You let out a breath and rounded the threadbare sofa. You went to the small closet on the other side of the apartment and slid open the accordion door. Inside hung jackets in varying tones of monochrome and pants to match. Dress shirts and vests filled out the rest of the assortment. You sensed movement behind you as you reached for a hanger.

“That’s all you got?” He asked as he came up beside you and tutted.

You looked over at him as he slid the hangers from side to side and examined your clothes.

“No, no, this won’t do,” He said.

“What are you--”

“This,” He tugged on your sleeve. “Is doing you no favours. Not to worry, I’ll send for some nice skirts, a couple dresses--”

“No,” You said pointedly. “No, I won’t--”

“You’re not getting this, are you?” He sneered. “I don’t need some pussycat in a suit, I got more men than I can count.” You stared at him as foreboding roiled in your stomach. “What I need is a gal on my arm,” He reached out and touched your cheeks. “With a pretty smile,” His fingers crept down your neck and rested on your shoulders, “In a pretty little number.”

You grabbed his wrists and tried to shove him away. Despite his slim figure, he was stronger than you expected. He twisted his arms around and grabbed your wrists. He drew you close.

“If you were a man, you wouldn’t have left that warehouse,” He growled. “So consider yourself lucky…” His eyes drifted down. “The walk gives you away. Your hips…” He tilted his head from side to side. “The ass…”

“Get off of me,” You hissed and pulled away. He released you and you nearly stumbled.

“Don’t bother with the clothes,” He sighed. “But grab whatever else you need; hairbrush, soap… I guess you wouldn’t have lipstick, would you?”

“You really that hard-up for a girl?” You laughed dryly.

He smiled and licked his lips. “Women aren’t as complicated as they pretend to be. Not if you got your pockets full. So no, not hard-up for a girl… just you, doll.”

“Not doll,” You huffed and spun away from him. His low laughter made your lip curl.

“Five minutes,” He warned.

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia au #mafia steve rogers #au #fic #miniseries #series #hot blood #mcu #marvel #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

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nikkoliferous · 3 years

Text

Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram:

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all.

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy

Just wanna remind everyone that this

is why he’s smiling during this scene

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring.

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger

Honestly, though, big mood.

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway.

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather.

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is.

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess…

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD.

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit.

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol

#phase one: thor #loki meta #thor meta #odin's a+ parenting #frigga's b+ parenting #topic: thor and loki's broken relationship #loki #thor #heimdall #lady sif #the warriors 3 #jane foster #ragnarok cinematic universe #mcu #topic: asgardian hypocrisy #topic: asgardian militarism #topic: odin's family dynamic

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teruthecreator · 4 years

Text

Red Lines, Blue Hearts

hi friends! remember how i keep saying i’m going to write something, and then i do anything but? today’s “anything but” is brought to you by this epic and emotionally laboring art by matt (@accesscodex), as well as his chaos!fitzroy au which injures my soul. i don’t feel like putting this on ao3 but!! my ao3 is always available if you would like to see my other graduation crimes.

reblogs > likes and i hope y’all enjoy!!!

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The first thing Fitzroy sees when his body is released from Chaos’ grasp is red.

Pinkish-red scars litter nearly every inch of his body, permanent reminders of the power he let consume him. Some follow the pathway of his veins, like the ones on his legs. Others are large patches that once revealed the pearlescent skin Chaos manifested underneath, like on his face and back. There are a few that look to be a result from fighting, puncture marks or slashes in odd spots across every plane of skin. Along with the dull pain that persists for weeks after, they leave Fitzroy feeling mangled and ugly. Like a porcelain doll shattered by a rowdy child, glued back together but never looking quite the way it once did.

His friends have done a good job keeping his mind off the changes. Rainer comes over every week to repaint his nails and catch him up on what’s happening outside the safety of his room. She always extends the offer for him to meet at her place, but he always refuses. The wounds of what he did under the control of Chaos are still too fresh, and he’d rather spend months in solitude than force the people around him to relive through any of the destruction he caused.

Buckminster and Leon (now restored to his human form) also visit with new cloaks and waistcoats for Fitzroy to try on; the excuse being they accidentally bought a size too small or large, even when the garments look ill-fitting for the pair at a glance. The brothers will then sit on Fitzroy’s bed and demand a fashion show, Leon politely clapping as Buckminster narrates each outfit with overabundant dramatics. They never ask for anything in return, nor will they accept the gold Fitzroy shoves into their hand each time.

“It’s what friends are for!” Buckminster will say, patting Fitzroy on the back heartily (yet gently, so as to prevent any flare-ups of pain).

Althea Song stopped by once, meekly peeking into Fitzroy’s room with a large bag in hand. He later found out the bag contained a number of hair and skin products for people with sensitivities. They spent the next hour smelling lotion scents and talking self-care. Admittedly, Fitzroy had pretty much stopped both his hair and skin routine after his faculties returned to him; the thought of even staring at himself in the mirror for that long gave him the shivers. So it was nice to have an excuse to start trying to mend the damages done to his body, even if he had to cover his mirror for the time being. At the end of her visit, Althea nervously extended her arms for a hug, which Fitzroy hesitantly allowed. The moment was a little tense, but overall nice. Althea murmured some encouragement that was lost to Fitzroy, who was too in his head to hear.

Althea smelled of maple and charcoal. Just like his mother.

It is a few days after this visit that Fitzroy sees something else, something he lost in all the constant red lines and marks.

Blue roses, delicately painted along the skin of his left wrist. Marred by two lines of red, crossing out the pristine image permanently.

The sight broke Fitzroy’s heart in twain.

The tattoo was, admittedly, a bit of an impulsive decision. After spending nearly every day with the other two Thundermen, the roses on Argo’s right arm became a bit of a focal point for Fitzroy’s dazed stares. There were...quite a few reasons why his gaze always seemed to drift to the genasi, as loathe as Fitzroy was to admit to that, at first. But the roses were different; they were beautiful, matching Argo’s complexion perfectly and complimenting the rest of the art painted up that arm. After a while, the flower became synonymous with Argo. Fitzroy would pass by a rosebush and suddenly images of Argo’s sharp-toothed smile would flash through his head. He would smell rosewater and hear Argo’s boisterous laugh echo through his skull. The two became intertwined--land and sea, beauty and beauty.

So, when Rhodes invited him to New Hope to touch up one of her forearm tattoos, he felt compelled to get the roses. It was only after the deed was done--artist paid, skin wrapped in a tight plastic, and instructions handed to him on how to care for the new ink--that Fitzroy realized how weird this was. Him and Argo weren’t even an item, yet!

Not that they would be, or that Fitzroy even wanted them to, but--

You know what? Never mind.

He couldn’t hide the tattoo forever, at the very least. The topic would have to be breached. Would Argo be offended that Fitzroy copied his tattoo without asking? Would he feel weird that they technically have matching tattoos? Would he...like it? Would he find it sweet or endearing that Fitzroy thought of him so much he wanted a tattoo to match?

After two weeks of hiding it and a week of teasing from Rainer (after she saw it during one of their study sessions), Fitzroy randomly showed it to Argo. He attempted to not be weird about it--simply rolling up his sleeves while he did homework with Argo in their common area--but Argo only noticed after a handful of dramatic coughs and awkward arm movements on Fitzroy’s end. Once he saw it, though, his eyes lit up with delight. He immediately reached out to grab Fitzroy’s wrist, leaning across the table to admire the artistry on his skin. The contact lit a fire in the pit of Fitzroy’s gut; a fire that continued to burn for months after.

A fire that doused in the wake of seeing his roses ruined.

Instinct overrides rational thought as Fitzroy stands up from his bed, maimed wrist planted firmly at his side to hide the truth from his eyes. His legs carry him to Argo’s room, who was in bed studying. Argo’s head shoots up just as Fitzroy’s body leans and collapses into the embrace of the genasi. The tears unconsciously streaming down his face continue to fall as Argo’s arms come to envelop him.

“F-Fitz? What’s goin’ on?” Argo asks, his voice gentle but concerned. Fitzroy hiccups a few sobs, feeling weak and helpless and utterly broken, as he leans back to show Argo his wrist. It takes a second for Argo to pinpoint the problem, but once he does he lets out a soft, “Oh.”

“I-It’s broken,” Fitzroy whimpers, leaning his head onto Argo’s right shoulder. “I-I ruin--ruined i-it!”

“Aw, no, hey,” Argo says, gently carding through Fitzroy’s platinum locks. “This isn’t your fault.” Fitzroy stubbornly shakes his head, face still pressed into Argo’s shoulder.

“Y-Yes it is because I a-allowed them to do this to m-me.” Fitzroy’s voice warbles with his cries. “I-I wanted p-power, and they knew that, and th-they used me to g-get what they wanted because I didn’t stop them. A-And then they hurt you, and Master Firbolg, a-and Rainer, and the school, and the town, a-and nearly the world if--if you hadn't stopped them.” Every point of contact with the rogue is both a soothing salve and a knife to his skin. He burns with the broken, defeated rage of man with nothing. “A-And they’ve broken me, Argo! I--I can never return to normal, I can never be who I o-once was, I-I’m ruined!”

“Hey!” Argo’s voice is stern, yet his touch is gentle as he pulls Fitzroy’s head off his shoulder to look him in the eye. It’s then Fitzroy can see the glimmer of tears in Argo’s eyes, along with the scattered lines of light-blue permanently streaked across his face. He moves the hand holding Fitzroy’s head to gently rub along his wrist, the other still firmly wrapped around his waist. Fitzroy’s mind unhelpfully provides only one thought: He’s beautiful.

“‘M not gonna sit here and let ya kick yourself while yer already down, alright?” he continues. “I know this is all really...really hard for you t’handle. You spent--gods, felt like years, but was really only a couple’a months under Chaos’s control. And, yeah, things did get massively fucked because of that. But...But that wasn’t you!”

“I-It was, though--”

“--Will you let me finish?” Argo stares at Fitzroy until he sheepishly nods. “Thank you. What I was sayin’ was that the destruction wasn’t you! It was Chaos--they had most of the control of yer body during that time! And, sure, maybe you did allow them a little access in the beginning because y’wanted power. I-I get that, though! You...You didn’t have the nicest childhood. You’ve been constantly pushed down and made to feel lesser--so have I, if I’ll be honest. It’s a natural reaction to wanna get some power in return, to finally get what’s yours, as the saying goes. B-But you didn’t ask to be hurt like this. You didn’t ask to hurt me! Or anyone else! It just...it just happened. And we gotta just start...tryin’ to move beyond it, I guess. Not really a ‘live and let live’ situation, but more of a… ‘you got hurt and so did I, so let’s just try and move on together’ sorta thing...Y’get what I’m saying to ya, Fitzroy?” He carefully pulls Fitzroy’s wrist up and closer to his face so Fitzroy can see.

“Yer not broken, Fitz. This,” he gently shakes Fitzroy’s arm to emphasize, “isn’t ruined. It’s just...new! A different take on life! A different take on art! But yer still you, Fitzroy, even with all the new. I still...I-I still think you’re gorgeous, if I’m, uh, bein’ honest. You, uh, always have been...to me…” The genasi’s cheeks flush as he breaks eye contact, bashfully looking towards the floor as the words flood Fitzroy’s head. It seems so silly--the smallest, most asinine fact out of Argo’s whole speech--but hearing Argo call him gorgeous makes the burning rage within turn to a melty, gooey, warm mass of fondness.

“I...Thank you, Argo.” Fitzroy mutters, feeling his own blush start to climb up his face. “You, uh, you’ve always been...there for me. H-Helping me. And I, uh...truthfully, I do not know where I’d be if it was not for you and your kindness, and humor, and cunning...ness. And...you’re, uh...I-I think you’re handsome, as well.” The last part he’s barely able to get out of his mouth, but Argo still hears it because he looks back to Fitzroy. The half-elf smiles nervously and shrugs. “I...thought I made that obvious on several occasions, but, uh. I’ve always thought you were handsome.”

Fitzroy and Argo’s relationship has been difficult to understand, to say the least. The two have been dancing intricate circles around the truth of their feelings for so long it feels almost like instinct. Yet, despite their hesitations, the pair have been drawing ever closer in their rotations. Now, in this moment--their bodies pressed close together, their hearts beating in unison--it’s natural what happens next.

Argo smiles, full and big, and leans down to press a kiss to Fitzroy’s wrist. And Fitzroy, lost in the sensation, makes no move to pull away.

They spend the rest of the day in this embrace, sharing few words and even fewer kisses. When the Firbolg finds them later that night, he smiles softly at the two wrapped in each other’s arms and quietly heads to his leaf bed.

And when Fitzroy wakes that next morning, the first thing he sees is blue. Beautiful, beautiful blue.

#taz graduation #maplekeene #taz grad #taz fitzroy #taz argo #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argonaut keene #taz sir fitzroy maplecourt #taz argo keene #ignorance cloud on #chaos!fitzroy au #accesscodex

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teaboot · 4 years

Note

ive seen lots of reblogs & mentions of how wise you are... i guess i'll give it a shot. advice on how to stop thinking abt that one time you got accused of copying a family member who coincidentally had the same niche interests as you (you live far away) so when you had a family gathering they all thought you were a "copycat"/changed sO MUCH- oh GOD I HAVE SO MUCH PENT UP RAGE i could go on ranting but there's a word count. advice? cus i feel like everything i am has been taken

"...sorry. same anon, i just need some advice on how to trick my brain into thinking that i'm not invalid and it doesn't matter. like. i just don't wanna give a fuck abt what they think. this sounds petty but said relative got praised for being so cool & unique when ive been doing the same for years?? who would believe me if i told them i did not copy her?? argh. cant believe the little things get to me."

Hi! Sorry for the late reply, I've been chewing on this question for a couple days now but life kept getting in the way.

Honestly? If you want my advice on how to stop caring and let this thing go?? Don't.

You don't *need* to be chill- someone is accusing you of being a poser or a fake because you just *happen* to like the same thing as someone else?

That's shitty! That's a dick move! You are being treated unfairly and you're allowed to be pissed about it! I can't convince you that it 'doesn't matter' because, hey- it DOES matter! Hell, I'm mad on your behalf!

Like, what, you're not allowed to hold a genuine interest in something just because someone else also likes it? What kind of ass-backwards nonsense is that???

And the whole "copying them" thing- even if that were true, isn't that how literally every hobby in the world works??? Nobody sits down out of the blue one day going "huh, think I might start putting all these used stamps into a book, never seen anyone else do that before, pretty sure I invented it, this is a sane and rational choice." Like what the fuck??? Can they lay off???

And by the by, "copying" is tracing someone else's art. "Copying" is repeating what someone says or plagiarizing their book or buying the same clothes and doing your makeup the same way and saying it was your own unique idea. Simply *pursuing the same area of interest* isn't copying. Not long term. If you genuinely enjoy what you're doing? That's your thing, too. There's enough to go around.

And like.... I don't know your family, so I can't tell you how to handle them, but as far as "I'm bothered by this and I don't want to be"?

In my experience, any feeling you try to avoid or suppress only comes back stronger and meaner in the long run. Don't bury your irritation- don't hide from it. Let yourself be mad, let yourself be frustrated, let the feelings run their natural course, and then they will fade away on their own.

See, people talk about emotions and desires like they're all black and white and simple- fear and anger are bad, love and happiness are good, the end.

But that's not how it works.

Fear is a friend who wants to keep you safe- like any friend, they're only dangerous when they start to control you.

Anger is a bodyguard that says, "no, you can't treat them that way." It's only harmful if it lashes out, hurting others.

People murder in the name of love. People trample others in the pursuit of happiness. It's not the motive that matters in the end, but the action taken.

You're allowed to be mad. You're allowed to be irritated. Remain in control of your actions, and give yourself permission to feel whatever you need to feel. It won't last forever, and in the end, you'll be lighter for it.

The things that bother you are not small things. The feelings you feel are not insignificant. You cannot control how others feel, and you cannot control how you feel, but you can control what you do about it.

Your family is wrong. Let them be wrong. People are wrong about a lot of things, but they don't change unless they desire to change. The important part is that you know yourself.

I'm sorry I can't give you any better advice- I'm still learning how to handle things like this myself. Perhaps in a year from now, I will have a new answer, but for now, this is the best I can do.

I'm sorry that this is something you have to deal with right now.

Please take care, and stay safe in these strange times! Hope I could help

#Long post #Teaboot #Teaboot advice

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snowdice · 4 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 15]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I have another fic to edit today! :)

Chapter 5

Virgil sat as still as he could in the dark space he’d been put in. He could feel the warning tingle of the binding magic at his wrists telling him not to move too much or else. He was just lucky that they’d chosen to use metal instead of cloth to apply the potion and that he’d been unconscious until it dried. He knew from experience that there was no escaping the pain that type of potion brought until it dried no matter how still you were. Now, at least, if he didn’t try to struggle against his binding it wouldn’t hurt him. It sucked because all he wanted to do was move. He wanted to struggle and pull against the binding at his wrist, but he couldn’t. Even if it wouldn’t put him in crippling amounts of pain, he’d still not be able to get away.

So, instead he just shook. He was such a fuck up. He couldn’t even remember the right room and now he was going to die. No, he was probably going to be tortured and then he was going to die. His breath came quicker and quicker the longer he remained in the closet. He’d tried to murder their king. He’d come into their prince’s bedroom in the middle of the night wielding a knife. There was no way he wasn’t going to be made to suffer for that. It didn’t matter how gently the prince and his… person had treated him so far.

He heard the muffled sounds of people approaching the closet and curled into himself. Oh, god he was going to die. He had been breathing quickly, but now he couldn’t breathe at all. It felt like someone had poured tar into his lungs. The closet door opened, and he flinched, curled into a ball and choking on nothing.

“Hey, hey,” a familiar voice said. Patton, Virgil’s mind offered: the other guy with the prince. When Virgil managed to flick his eyes open, he saw Patton had gotten to his knees in front of him. He dully noted that the boy had reached out and touched his shoulder. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Can you breathe for me?”

What was the point? He wondered, but after a few moments, he managed to suck in a couple of breaths.

When he managed to calm enough to look around, he noticed that instead of there being a bunch of castle guards standing around waiting to drag him off to some dungeon, it was just the prince and Patton again. He blinked up at them in confusion.

“There’s been a change of plans,” the prince explained.

“What?” Virgil asked dumbly. “What do you mean?”

“My father is going to be away for the next three weeks,” the prince said. “Considering you didn’t kill the guards and your only targets seems to be my father and perhaps myself, you are likely not a real danger to anyone if you escape and I’m willing to take the risk with myself. With that in mind, Patton and I have decided not to turn you in yet.”

Well what the hell did that mean? Was that good or bad? On one hand, it meant that he wouldn’t be executed yet, but what exactly did the prince want with him?

As Virgil began to freak out about the possibilities, the prince continued to speak, seemingly more to himself than to Virgil or Patton.

“We will need to figure out how to care for you in the interim. We’ll have to provide you with more food than just snacks as well as find you a place to sleep. At least one of us will have to be with you at all times, and with Father gone, I’ll have to attend to some royal duties. Luckily it isn’t strange for Patton to come into my quarters at will.” He considered Virgil with discerning eyes. “Also, your general health seems to be lacking, so I’ll have to account for preexisting conditions. First thing, first though. I imagine keeping you in those bracelets all the time would be impractical. We’ll need another solution, especially for sleep.”

Virgil did not like the sound of that. He assumed based on what the prince had done so far that he’d enact some sort of magical bondage. From Virgil’s experience, magical bondage ranged from unpleasant to legitimately agonizing.

“Patton, if you will watch him for the time being, I need to go work on a more precise binding potion then the one I’ve been using.”

“Sure,” Patton agreed, but the prince was wondering away before he’d even finished the word. Patton shook his head fondly before turning back to Virgil. “Wanna come out of the closet now?”

He really, really didn’t, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He curled his legs into himself as much as he could and waited to be dragged out into the room, but he wasn’t touched.

“Okay,” Patton said. “That’s fine. It’s a pretty nice closet.” Virgil said nothing but did breathe a sigh of relief about being able to stay. It wasn’t very rational because in actuality he was no safer here than anywhere else in the room, but the closet felt more defensible even if they could drag him out of it whenever they wanted.

Patton seemed content to sit outside the closet and leave him in peace for the moment. A few minutes later Patton made a sound and Virgil looked over to see him yawn. He smiled when he saw Virgil watching. “It was a long night for all of us, I imagine,” he said. “Hmm… actually. Wait there.”

Like he could go anywhere else. He couldn’t get a good enough angle to see what Patton was doing, but he could here him moving around the room and rustling through a few things. He came back into view holding a comical number of pillows and blankets.

“Here,” Patton said. He offered Virgil one of the blankets and then seemed to remember that Virgil could not reach out to take it. “Hmm…” He spread out the blanket next to Virgil. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

“Why are you even asking?” Virgil asked. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Patton frowned and Virgil scrunched into himself at the expression, but it lightened the next moment. “I know it’s a bit of a bad situation and you are technically a prisoner, but I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel bad,” Patton said.

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. There was no way that it wasn’t some sort of trick, but he didn’t dare outright say that he thought that.

“Can I touch you a bit?” Patton asked once again. “Just to help you get onto the blanket.”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed.

The other boy smiled sweetly and grabbed his wrists with gentle fingers. Virgil let his whole body follow Patton’s guidance until he was situated rather comfortably on an unbelievably soft blanket.

“Head,” Patton said, holding up a pillow. Virgil lifted his head slightly and the pillow was shoved underneath it.

Another blanket was settled over him the next. Patton was weird. “There you go!” Patton said. “Now you can take a nap.”

Virgil blinked up at him in confusion. That was… not happening. What exactly about this situation did Patton think was conducive to sleep?

“…Or rest comfortably at least,” Patton said after a moment. He arranged a pillow and blanket for himself and laid on his side, so he was facing Virgil. He yawned slightly again but didn’t close his eyes. They stared at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.

“What are we doing?” Virgil finally asked when he realized Patton was not planning to ever break the awkward silence.

“We’re resting,” Patton said, “and hanging out.”

“Hanging out?” Virgil asked.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton said popping up onto his elbow to peer at him. “Let’s talk some! We can get to know each other.”

Virgil looked at him suspicious about where this was going. “Talk about what?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

Patton hummed a quiet tune and his fingers tapped against the side of his face as he wiggled a bit back and forth. “Do you like cats?”

“Cats?” Virgil asked. “Uh… sure?”

“I love cats,” Patton divulged. “There are a lot of cats in the castle. Not all of them like people very much, but I like to try to pet them! I even made up a game where I get points for every cat that lets me pet it. The grumpier they are, the more points I get!”

“You… try to pet wild cats?” Virgil asked.

“Uh huh!”

Virgil thought back to the few untamed cats he’d met in his life. “Don’t they… try to murder you.”

“Sometimes,” Patton said with a shrug. He moved his arm suddenly and Virgil startled, but he just rolled down his sleeve so Virgil could see a large, fairly fresh-looking scratch on his arm. “This one’s from Mr. Calico Man. He does not like his ears touched apparently, but he will let me give him chin scratchies!”

This boy was insane.

“I think I’ve pet every single cat in the castle at least once, except for Ghost Kitty.”

“Who is Ghost Kitty?”

“Oh, Ghost Kitty is the prettiest thing in the world,” Patton gushed. “She hangs out in the gardens a lot, but no one ever can get anywhere near it. She’s completely black and only started showing up about a year ago. I can’t even see her for more than 2 seconds at a time let alone try to pet her, but I will some day and on that day, I’ll get 1,000 points!”

“How many points are they usually?”

“For ones like Mittens and Cleo who I’ve known since they were babies, only 1. For Sandra it’s 5 since she can get a bit tetchy, but usually won’t run away. Lily Flower and Red Hot like to run away, but won’t try to scratch me if I do catch them so they’re 10. Ones like Mr. Calico Man are worth 100.”

“So, you are going to try to pet a cat that is 10x more feral than the one that slashed your arm?”

“She’s so pretty!”

“You have no survival instincts whatsoever, do you?” Virgil asked.

Patton smiled wryly at him. “I apparently have a couple,” he said.

Virgil blinked at him and thought back, connecting the dots. Only Patton and the prince knew he was here, and the prince had been in front of him when he’d came into the room… “You were the one to knock me unconscious,” he concluded.

“I’d say sorry, but you were coming in here with the intention of hurting someone I care about,” Patton said with a shrug.

Right. Virgil had almost forgotten amongst his soft tone and gentle countenance that the man laying docilly next to him definitely hated his guts, and would probably relish in whatever the prince had planned for him.

Virgil let his fists clench, but otherwise didn’t let onto his distress at the thought as Patton softly brought the conversation back to the previous topic and continued to ramble on about the different cats of the castle.

Chapter 6

Virgil had started to feign sleep about an hour after Logan had left to his potions lab. Patton could tell because his arms never relaxed. Patton kept talking to him in soft tones even though he was no longer responding.

He seemed exhausted, but he was also clearly not planning to sleep any time soon. Patton wondered what had led up to him being here both recently which had caused the dark circles under his eyes and long term that had caused the sunkenness of his cheeks.

Patton’s stomach growled reminding him of the passage of time. He had no idea how long whatever Logan was doing was going to take, but someone was going to have to go to the kitchen and get some breakfast soon. The snacks truly had not been enough to hold them through the night.

He felt secure enough even knowing Virgil wasn’t actually sleeping to push himself to his feet and walk over to the potions lab door. “Hey Lo,” Patton called. Virgil still hadn’t moved to indicate he was still awake.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How long are you going to take? I need to get food soon and maybe come up with an excuse for at least one of us to stay here all day.”

“It’ll be a little while longer,” Logan said.

Patton glanced back at Virgil. He caught the boy with his eyes open this time and saw him wince at being caught. “Maybe Virgil can stay in there with you well I go get things?”

“That would be fine,” Logan said, turning back to what he was working on. “Bring him in here if you’d like.”

“Okie dokie,” Patton chirped. He turned to Virgil who was looking up at him. “I’m going to take your arms and lead you to the other room, okay?”

He nodded and Patton leaned down and grabbed his wrists. He went tenser somehow when Patton moved his arms to his front and Patton frowned, but didn’t comment. He helped him get to his feet and led him into the other room.

“You can seat him over there,” Logan said pointing.

Virgil was looking around the room with wide eyes and Patton had to stop and think about what this room might look like to someone who hadn’t been enthusiastically introduced to every new potion ingredient and piece of equipment as they arrived. There were shelves of ingredients, all organized and labeled. He kept all powders in uniform glass vials and liquids in bulbous containers. Whole dried herbs hung from strings in one area and there were containers of fresh ones glowing a soft green; the preservation spells that Logan came up with himself kept them fresh for months longer than they would usually last.

Logan had three separate areas for potion making. There was one space for potions that required more dangerous ingredients which currently had something simmering at it, but the enchanted protective curtain wasn’t drawn around it, so Patton imagined it must not be doing anything that could be too harmful at the moment. The table he used for experiments was empty and thoroughly cleaned so he was clearly making something with an already well-established recipe. Currently, he was standing at his table reserved only for non-harmful substances. He was chopping up what appeared to be mint as two smaller pots boiled in front of him.

Patton led Virgil over to the indicated chair which was out of the way of even the non-dangerous ingredient zone. He still seemed to be trying to take in the room as Patton settled his wrists on the chair armrests.

“Any requests?” he asked Logan.

“Not really,” Logan replied. He glanced up at Patton. “Though if you can sneak me some of the leftover macaroni salad from dinner, that would be appreciated.”

“That’s not breakfast!” Patton chided.

“Which is why I requested that you to sneak it.”

Patton shook his head and turned back to Virgil. “What about you?” he asked.

He looked up at Patton and shook his head. Virgil looked a bit scared and out-of-sorts. He wanted to reach forward and pat him on the head or kiss his cheek to comfort him, but he imagined that would go over worse than badly. Instead, he flashed the boy a quick smile and then turned to leave the room.

He left Logan’s private chambers and closed the door behind him before walking down the hall.

“Good morning Patton,” one of the stationed guards greeted.

He smiled at her and the other guard. “Good morning Kalani. Hi Owen.”

“I see you and the prince had a sleepover,” Kalani said. “Should we be planning on him not making it to his royal duties until later today?”

“Actually,” said Patton. “Maybe all day. He was feeling a little sick. Had a headache.” It was… probably true. They hadn’t slept a wink last night.

“Hmm,” Kalani said. “Maybe there is something going around. Clover said she had a bit of a dizzy spell last night.”

“Oh,” Patton answered. Clover had been one of the two guards set to watch the door to the royal wing. At least Virgil had been telling the truth about not hurting anyone.

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“I hope she feels better. I’m going to go get Logan something to eat for breakfast since he can’t come himself, so I’ll see you again in a few minutes.”

The guards nodded to him and he turned to walk down the hall. The areas around the kitchens would be pretty busy at this point in the morning so instead of taking any of the busier paths to it, he walked past the dinning hall towards the guest hall and took the staircase that led straight outside. It was a longer path because he had to go around and through the garden, but it was worth not getting in anyone’s way.

Patton always did like the garden. It was pretty at every time of year. Even now as the flowers started to get sparser in the fall, it was still wonderful, and it smelt great. He took just the briefest moment to himself to splash a hand through one of the fountains with a giggle. He turned away to continue on his path to the kitchen which is when he saw her.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Hi kitty.”

Ghost Kitty was there and stared at him briefly before taking off into one of the bushes.

“Bye kitty,” he said just as soft. He smiled even though she’d ran away because that was the closest, he’d ever gotten to her.

He continued his trek to the kitchen and snuck inside on quiet feet hoping to be unnoticed as he went for the chilled storage box. Luck was on his side because Mama was busy talking in hushed tones to the gardener, Mr. Deknis, as she peeled potatoes.

“Well certainly no one has joined the kitchen staff who has a child,” Mama said. “I’d know.”

“Perhaps a maid or even a guard,” Mr. Deknis suggested.

Mama was frowning. “We don’t usually hire many people towards winter for those positions. Maybe someone in the stables?”

“But he needed to get back to the castle, not to the stable hand’s lodging.”

“Well then,” Mama said. “I don’t know Jeff. I’ll ask around.”

Mr. Deknis sighed. “I should have asked him more questions, but the poor thing seemed ready to startle out of his boots, and I didn’t want to push.”

“Well if he’s new to the castle, he’s probably just a little out of sorts and nervous,” Mama reasoned.

“It didn’t seem like normal nervousness. He was…” Mr. Deknis shook his head. “Anyway, tell me if you figure anything out.”

“Of course,” Mama said.

“Also, your kid’s steeling macaroni salad for breakfast.”

“Patton!” Mama said, rounding on him. “That’s not breakfast!”

Patton shot a pout at Mr. Deknis, but he seemed unrepentant. Patton pulled his hand away from the macaroni salad. “The prince wanted it,” Patton said.

“That’s not breakfast for ‘the prince’ either.”

“But,” Patton argued, “he’s not feeling well.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Is he not feeling well or is he tired?” she asked.

“…Both?”

“Mmhmm.”

“No! Seriously mom!” Patton said. “Kalani said that Clover wasn’t feeling well this morning and she sees Logan all the time. I even convinced Logan not to do any unnecessary royal duties today.”

“Well he must really be sick if that’s the case,” Mama admitted, “unless of course he found an interesting book to read or had an idea for a new potion.”

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“It’s not about a book or a potion,” Patton promised.

Mama considered him. “Fine,” she said, turning back towards the countertop. “Then give me a few minutes to make him and you a nutritious breakfast that doesn’t consist of 80% mayonnaise.”

“Pancakes?” Patton asked hopefully.

Mama shot him a look over her shoulder. “I said nutritious,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Besides, I thought you said he was sick.”

“He’s not nauseous, mama,” Patton said. “And if you put blueberries in it, it’ll be healthy!”

“Mmhmm.”

“It will!”

“Now I know my own son doesn’t think I was born yesterday,” she said.

“Please mama,” he begged. “I promise we’ll both eat some other stuff too.”

“I don’t believe you.” Patton gave her a wobbly lip. “No,” she repeated.

“But Mama.”

“You and Logan are going to have a healthy breakfast or so help me…”

“… but Mama.”

Chapter 7

Logan placed a spoon in one of the boiling pots in front of him so he could get a better look at the liquid. It looked dark enough, but he leaned forward to taste it just to be sure. At the moment, it was basically just mint and lavender tea with a couple of extras. Satisfied with it, he slowly poured it into the slightly simmering larger pot in front of him and stirred it a few times clockwise. The pot glowed a soft purple when he took the spoon out.

He glanced into the other small pot and saw that the liquid there was starting to thicken. It wasn’t quite at the honey consistency he needed it to be yet, but it was on track.

Then he glanced up at his guest. Virgil had clearly been watching him but looked away quickly when Logan turned to him. Logan studied him for a few more moments. He looked almost sickly in the light of day, like he’d shatter in a stiff wind. Yet, somehow this was the assassin sent to kill a king? He was an enigma.

Logan turned his attention to the binding potion still simmering on the other table. Virgil cowered slightly as Logan walked by him to check on it. He certainly did startle easy. It was another piece to a concerning puzzle.

The binding potion was coming along well. He stirred it slowly a few times and carefully rinsed off the spoon, so it didn’t get anywhere he didn’t want it before laying it back down. He checked the open book next to it and compared the color to the chart in it. It would need at least an hour or so more before it could be used, but it would be a much better solution to the one that basically glued Virgil’s hands to a chair.

He walked back over to the other potion set up to start cleaning up his supplies.

He had some herbs that he hadn’t used and stuck a mint leaf in his mouth as he returned them to their correct containers. There was a small wedge of honeycomb left on the plate that he’d cut it on. Without even really thinking about it, he cut the honeycomb into to equal parts with the plan to offer half of it to the other presence in the room. He paused and looked up at said other presence who looked down at his lap quickly.

“Would you like half?” he asked. Virgil looked back up at him, hesitance in his eyes. “You can pick which half each of us eats,” Logan offered.

Virgil nodded slowly and Logan rounded the table with the plate. “Left or right?” Logan asked.

“…Left.”

Logan nodded and went ahead and stuck the right piece in his own mouth before offering the left piece. Virgil opened his mouth and Logan popped it into his mouth. Logan almost laughed at the expression that crossed his face as he started to chew. He imagined this is what people were talking about when they mentioned feeding babies different foods for the first time. His eyes went wide, and he blinked a couple of times before chewing a bit faster. Logan smiled at him and took the plate back around to the other side of the table.

The liquid in the second part had gotten thicker now and he stirred it carefully a few times before deciding it was finished. He then turned of the heat and quickly scrapped the sticky substance into the main pot. The purple liquid that had been in the pop slowly turned golden as he counted the number of times he stirred clockwise and then began to sparkle as he stirred it a few times counterclockwise. Once he was finished, he turned off the heat under the pot and wondered over to his case for empty jars. He grabbed one of the liter ones.

While he waited for the potion to cool, he measured out and marked the container with 30 careful lines. It did not need to be an exact intake every day which is why he didn’t bother with separate containers, but for maximum benefit it should generally be about 40ml for the first 10 days and 30ml after that. The lines should help them keep track.

He walked back over to the potion once that was done and placed a funnel into the opening so he could pour it into the container. It perhaps filled a bit more above the top like than 40ml but having a bit extra the first day wouldn’t harm him.

He looked to Virgil who was watching him with suddenly very wary eyes. He rounded the potions station and approached him slowly, hoping not to startle him when he already seemed rather skittish. “Okay, Virgil,” he said. “I’m going to need you to drink this. It’s a…”

“No.”

“W-what?”

“No,” his eyes were locked on the container in Logan’s hand and he shook his head back and forth. “Please no.”

“I assure you, it isn’t poison,” Logan said. “I will even test it myself.” Yet, he was acting differently than he had with the food. He’d begun to shake and cry as he continued to shake his head.

Oh dear. Logan grimaced and set down the potion. He glanced at the door very much hoping that Patton would come through it in the next few seconds, but he did not. “What is…” Logan said. “What is wrong?”

“Please don’t,” he said. “Please. Can’t. No.”

Logan wrung his hands and then went to his knees in front of the hyperventilating boy. He tried to place a comforting hand on his knee, but he flinched violently, and Logan removed his hand quickly. He dithered, unsure what to do as the boy continued to heave with sobs.

“I am not adept with discerning feelings. Please communicate with me verbally.”

He did not seem inclined to capitulate, making pitiful upset sounds that Logan could not determine the meanings of.

“Please, no, hurts.”

“You think it will hurt you?” Logan asked with a frown. “It won’t hurt you Virgil. The purpose of that potion is quite the opposite.”

He either did not hear Logan or did not register what he said. “Please,” he begged. “I’ll be good. I won’t even move. Please.”

Won’t move. Logan glanced over at the other potion still simmering at the other station. “Do you think this is a binding potion?” he asked. “Why on Earth would I be offering you a binding potion to drink?” Yet, Logan watched as he shook and cried, eyes not quite focused on Logan but on something else that wasn’t there. “Did,” Logan with dawning horror. “Did someone feed you a binding potion?”

Logan had once accidently gotten some of a binding potion he was making on his hand. It had stung like a thousand small bees had attacked one area of his skin, and it was only made worse by the fact that even that small amount had kept him trapped in place. Then, binding potions were sticky. They were difficult to remove. Even after the counter potion had been applied, he’d still felt a bit of an ache when he moved it for the next week or so. It’s why one was never supposed to apply it directly to a person’s skin.

Who would make someone drink that? Beyond the assured agony and full body paralysis, it could easily kill someone. If not cooked properly, it was literally poison and even if it was perfect, there was still the possibility that it would freeze a person’s lungs, heart, or any other number of internal organs. If someone had fed Virgil a binding potion (and while he was no expert on facial expressions, the one currently on his face made Logan sure that someone had) they had little regard for his life.

Logan tired his best to soften his expression and tone. “Hey Virgil,” he said. “It’s okay. I won’t force you to drink anything. It’s not a binding potion, but I won’t make you drink it anyway.”

It took him a bit to calm down, but finally his breaths started to even out. “Are you alright?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded after a moment.

“Good.” He waited for a few minutes for Virgil to calm down even more before he said anything else. “I will not make you drink any potions,” Logan promised. “Though, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to explain the option.”

He gave Logan a suspicious blink, but he didn’t seem inclined to have another fit at the sentiment.

“It is not a binding potion,” Logan started with. “I am making one for you, but I have no intention of having you consume it. What I was offering to you is medicinal. Both Patton and I noted that you seem unhealthy and likely malnourished. While nothing can reverse the effects of malnutrition completely, the potion I made would help prevent many future problems as well as let your body acclimate to a more nutritious diet easier.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Why?” he asked. “I’m your prisoner. Why would you want to help me?”

“You are my prisoner which means you are under my care,” Logan said. “I will not abide by your suffering if I can prevent it. That being said, if drinking the potion causes you undue mental distress, I will not force it upon you.”

Virgil studied him, eyes hard and suspicious, but his words were tentative when they came. “Does it hurt bad?” he asked.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Logan promised. “Allow me to demonstrate for you?” He nodded and stood to retrieve the potion.

Logan placed his thumb over the lid of the container and tilted it until he felt the liquid hit his skin. He pulled his hand away and showed Virgil the notable drops of liquid on his thumb before opening his mouth and clearly placing it on his tongue. “It mostly tastes like the honey I put in it,” he told him, “plus a bit of lavender and mint. It does have a slightly sour aftertaste, but overall, it’s fine. How about just a small amount to start and then you can decide if you want to drink the rest of the dose for the day?”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed.

“I’m going to put this bottle to your lips. You can take as little as you wish.” Virgil nodded and Logan leaned forward and pressed the container to his mouth. Virgil kept his lips firmly closed as Logan titled it up briefly before taking it away. Virgil’s tongue came out to swipe up a bit of the liquid on his lips. He seemed to brace himself as he waited for something to happen, but he calmed after a few moments.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s not bad.”

“It is not intended to be,” Logan said. “Would you be willing to drink a bit more?”

Chapter 8

Whatever the potion was that the prince had just given him made his mouth tingle slightly. It was not an unpleasant sensation. In fact, it was actually kind of nice, and it tasted pretty good though not as good as the honey he’d been offered earlier. It did, as Logan had said, have a bit of a sour taste under the sweet of the honey. Yet, the way it sort of warmed his tongue almost made up for that.

He bit his lip, wondering if he was making a mistake and having more than a taste would rip apart his insides, but still replied, “yes,” when Logan asked if he was willing to drink more.

“Okay,” Logan said, tapping his finger on the container in his hands. “I’d like you to drink about to this line today if you can, but you can go as slow as you like.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay.”

Logan offered the container again and this time Virgil opened his mouth for it slightly. Logan tilted it slow, letting Virgil control the pace. It was still slightly warm from being cooked, but there was a bit of unnatural warmness to it as well. It slid down his throat easily when he swallowed, and Virgil could feel it go to work the instant it hit his stomach.

Virgil paused and Logan let him. The warmth didn’t fade. Instead, it seemed to radiate out and through him. He opened his lips again and Logan tilted a bit more of the liquid into his mouth. He drank until Logan pulled the container away and looked at the level of the liquid. Seeming to be satisfied with how much Virgil had drank, Logan capped the container and moved away.

“You should drink a little bit more each day until this is empty,” Logan said.

“O-okay,” Virgil agreed. The effects of the potion hadn’t faded. There was a pleasant, warm buzzing all over his skin at this point.

It seemed to congregate where he knew there were still a few leftover bruises on his back fizzling there slightly under the skin. He let out a breath and felt his head slightly droop, suddenly felling very sleepy.

Logan turned back to him and seemed to notice. “Apologies,” Logan said, “I did forget to mention that it has a general healing potion in it as well. If you were at all injured and it needed to activate, you may feel some drowsiness. Though it should in no way be enough to force you asleep if you do not wish it.”

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A potion with a sleeping agent sounded like something Virgil should be concerned about, he thought, but he couldn’t quite manage to summon any anxiety over it for once. He felt himself list a bit to the side.

“…Of course,” Logan continued. “I did not account for the fact that I have no idea when you last slept, and you are also likely suffering from an adrenaline crash considering your panic a few minutes ago.”

Those… sounded… like… words?

“Oh dear,” Logan said. “Let’s not fall asleep in the chair.” He felt Logan hovering over him and squinted up at him.

“I’m going to touch you now, alright?” Logan asked. Everything felt kind of floaty and he felt warm but not too hot all over, like he’d fallen asleep at the exact right distance from a fire. His eyes slipped shut and he couldn’t quite recall why that made a bit of panic shoot up his spine. Said panic was dulled immediately by the crashing waves of exhaustion and a comforting lack of pain anyway. “…Virgil?”

“Mmmph.” The identity of the speaker didn’t quite stick anymore, but it didn’t sound mad so it was probably fine.

“...I will take that as consent.” Gentle hands pushed him back up into a sitting position where he had been listing to the side and then Virgil’s wrists were grabbed. Virgil confusedly staggered to his feet when he was pulled up and immediately stumbled into something warm. He decided to lean against it. Leaning against it sounded good.

“When is the last time you slept, Virgil?” The voice rumbling from the warm thing supporting Virgil’s weight registered as chiding, but there didn’t seem to be any danger coming from it. He was given a soft push and he tripped in that direction. A warm band went around his waist to steady him and then pulled him forward. Virgil allowed himself to be guided, leaning heavily against the warmth next to him. He was stopped after an unknown amount of walking. “I’m going to have to put you in the closet again for now since I have to keep watch over the binding potion. However, it seems as though Patton has already constructed a comfortable enough sleeping area there anyway.”

“Mmmnum.”

“Would you lay down for me?” Laying down sounded fantastic right now. The walking was not fun and had made him even more tired. He let his body slump forward until his knees hit something very soft and then toppled onto his face. There was a sigh from above him and then hands were pushing at him until he rolled over onto his side. When one of the hands strayed near his head, he pressed his cheek into it.

“This would be something Patton would find adorable if it wasn’t a result of my unintentionally drugging you, injuries, and sleep deprivation.” The hand Virgil had been leaning into carefully lifted his head and when it was lowered again, his ear sunck into a plush thing. Something soft was pulled on top of Virgil, covering him from head to toe and then the warm thing drew away. Virgil whined at the loss.

There was a pause. “Here.” Something soft and squishable was placed under his chin and Virgil curled his arms around it, pulling it to his chest. “Sleep well. I’ll be back to check on you periodically” There was a soft click and then the world got even darker behind his closed eyelids. Virgil drifted off to sleep.

“I think if we put a few more blankets and pillows in here, it would work okay,” a voice was saying when Virgil started to wake.

“You think he needs more?” another voice asked.

“Yes, Logan,” the first voice chided. “We want him to be comfortable.”

Speaking of comfortable, Virgil had no idea where he was at the moment or what was happening, but he was very comfortable. There was soft fluffiness closing him in on all sides and what felt like a really nice pillow under his head. He curled up even more around whatever he was holding against his chest.

“Aw, Logan look,” the first voice cooed. There was a slight pause and a light smacking noise. “Don’t roll your eyes! You’re the one who gave him Barnaby!”

“…He was distressed.”

“Uh huh.”

“Shut up.”

Virgil was starting to wake up a bit more. He squirmed a bit and opened his eyes a crack to see two figures in front of him.

“Hey there,” Patton said, noticing him move. “You waking up?”

Virgil blinked a couple of times. He was still a little sleepy… right, Logan had given him a potion that had a sleep aid. He should probably be a bit more upset about that, but considering he was waking up without any problems, he thought it was okay.

“Hey there,” Patton said softly. “How’re you doing?”

“Uh… I’m okay,” Virgil answered.

“Good.”

Virgil looked around himself and found that he was covered in a thick blanket and had something wedged between his restrained arms near his chest. He gave it a confused looked.

“That’s Barnaby,” Patton said. “He’s my stuffed bear.”

“Oh,” Virgil said staring at it. He couldn’t see much more than the top of it’s furry head. “Do you want him back.”

“You can keep him for now,” Patton said. “His job is to help make people feel better and you seem like you maybe need him right now.”

“O-okay?”

Patton smiled brightly at him which seemed weird because all Virgil had done was keep something that belonged to Patton. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “Lo and I already ate a bit ago, but we kept the rest of it warm for you.” Well that was an offer Virgil wasn’t about to refuse.

“I would like to eat,” Virgil said hesitantly. “I-if that’s okay?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Patton said.

“Actually, if you wait a few more minutes,” Logan said. “I will have a way for you to eat more easily.” Virgil looked over at him questioningly. “The new binding potion finished up and I have been letting it dry on new restraints that will give you more freedom of motion,” he explained. Virgil did not relish the experience of having more binding magic applied to him, but at least it didn’t sound like he’d be forced to drink anything or that it would be poured directly on his skin. Virgil didn’t know what he meant by ‘more freedom of motion,’ but it sounded like something he’d want.

“Okay,” he agreed.

#proofread stories #not writing

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raineydaywrites · 3 years

Text

Nesting, Chapter 9

link to ao3 in the reblog

Fic Summary: Taako and Lup are determined to kick ass at going to university, even though their childhood education was anything but traditional.Then, Taako finds himself in a situation that threatens to undermine all their hard work.But there's plenty of university students that have kids! Really, this is just another chance to show how much better they are at everything they do- they can definitely manage to graduate and raise a kid at the same time.

Chapter Summary: This chapter has it all! Panic attacks, Magnus cameo, baby clothes, crushes, siblings messing with each other! Also, yeah, this definitely moving into some solid Lupcretia.

Miscarriage. How had that never occurred to him? He should have thought about that.

It wasn't likely, he tried to remind himself. It probably wasn't going to happen.

He should focus on other things instead. Like school work. The rest of his life wasn't going away just because his mind decided to go crazy over something that wasn't even happening.

Despite the rationality of his thoughts, Taako couldn't bring himself to actually follow through on them. His mind kept spiraling. He couldn't stand the thought of losing the thing now. He'd finally let himself actually want it!

He was so deep in thought that he forgot himself and where he was- namely, in public- for a little bit. It took the realization that someone was speaking to him to bring himself back.

"Hey, buddy? You okay?"

Taako startled backwards away from the stranger speaking to him, but he was already in the corner of the tiny booth in the coffee shop, so there wasn't really anywhere to go.

"Fine," he managed, watching the human in front of him carefully.

The guy was about the same height as he was, but he was a lot broader. Clearly more of a physical type of a guy than a magic user or anything else. He had reddish hair and big, worried eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, as those worried eyes looked Taako over. "You seemed kind of out of it there."

"I'm good, homie." Taako waved a hand dismissively, despite the way that his mind was screaming and his fingers were trembling.

And oh. Great. He wasn't sure if it was the anxiety or the morning sickness or some dreadful combination of both, but his stomach had started churning too.

"Did you come here with anybody? Can I... help you somehow?" the guy asked, looking around worriedly as if someone would pop up to relieve him of this duty he'd taken on himself for no apparent reason.

"Nah, man, you're good," Taako insisted. This guy needed to fuck off before Taako puked on him.

"Hey, just breathe, okay?" the guy said, and oh. When had he started to have trouble with that? Taako wasn't sure, but he was definitely breathing too fast now, the oxygen not quite getting through to his brain like it was supposed to.

He did so, because even if this guy was intruding on his personal shit, he wasn't wrong about the breathing thing.

"You wanna get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?" the guy asked, watching Taako carefully.

Taako nodded, because he did. Started to gather his shit, kept dropping stuff, godsdamn he was too clumsy. He had to get that under control before the baby got here- if he didn't fuck it up first.

The guy leaned over and started to help, holding Taako's things with steady hands.

"Thanks," Taako choked out.

"No problem," the guy smiled. "Is it okay if I touch you? Just to help you get somewhere else."

Taako shrugged, and the guy lifted one arm protectively over Taako's shoulder, but didn't let it drop to actually touch him. He led Taako carefully away from the cafe, finding an empty room and ushering them both inside.

Taako planned to say something, but before he could, his stomach started protesting again, and he was very glad to see that the room had a trash can nearby.

"Ew," the man who'd helped him muttered, seemingly torn between stepping closer to help and leaving.

Taako snorted, amused by the reaction. He seemed a decent guy, but Taako could hardly blame him for being grossed out.

"It's chill, my dude. You don't gotta do anything," Taako said, leaning back against the wall.

"Okay," the guy said, offering a sympathetic smile. "You still gonna try to say you're fine? Cause that must have been a hell of panic attack to make you puke."

"Nah, not really," Taako deflected. "I mean, yeah, unpleasant, but actually, this," he gestured to trash and wrinkled his nose, "was just morning sickness. Not nerves. Thanks, though, for checking and whatever."

"Oh. Uh, are you feeling better now, though? On both fronts? If you need to vent, dude, I'm cool with that. No pressure or anything. Just maybe easier to vent to a stranger, ya know?" the guy asked. "Or I could... get you some... water?" He sounded painfully unsure of what to do, in a way that was endearing, not that Taako would let it show.

It was awful sweet of him to offer, and he might have a point. If it didn't work, not like Taako ever had to see the dude again.

Still, he only shrugged in response, not loving the idea of opening up to a stranger- especially considering the guy had already seen him so vulnerable already.

"I'll get you that water," the guy said, hurrying out of the room.

Taako watched him go, not really expecting him to come back again. The guy had been nice and helped him out, and he'd repaid the kindness by being surly, so he could hardly blame him. Not like it mattered anyway. Taako didn't need some stranger poking his nose in his business.

Still, it was harder to hold off the nerves without the presence of another person. He wished he'd asked the doc more about any signs that anything had gone wrong. Better to know that as soon as it started right? If he noticed fast enough, maybe they could do something to save the thing.

Unless there was no chance of saving it. Then maybe it would be better to live in blissful ignorance for a while.

Taako realized that he'd pulled his knees up to his chest and reminded himself to breathe. This was hormones and senseless worries, nothing more. He was fucking up his bad bitch image by having anxiety and he needed to stop it.

The door opened back up, and the guy came back. He had a bottle of water in his hands, and he handed it to Taako.

"Drink that. And breathe, okay?" he said.

"How do you know what to do?" Taako asked. He’d meant for it to sound more like doubt in the guy’s skills then it did, but he figured the point would still get across.

“My sister gets panic attacks a lot! I help her sometimes!” The guy apparently didn’t get the point, as he spoke with pride and smiled widely at Taako.

Well, it was whatever. If the guy took it as genuine gratitude, more power to him. Didn’t hurt Taako.

He stood up again after a moment, still feeling a little shaky but back to himself for the most part.

“Hey, homie, thanks or whatever, but I’m good and I’m out, ‘kay?” Taako said, gathering his things.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” the guy said, still watching Taako carefully as he left the room. Taako decided to believe that he was watching his ass, instead of admitting that the guy was probably worried something would happen.

Didn’t need to be that honest with himself, after all.

“My name’s Magnus! Magnus Burnsides! I’m-“ the guy called.

“Yeah, uh, hail and well met,” Taako said, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t tell Lup about the incident. Why should he? What good would it do? It happened and it sucked, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

He just had to accept that things were going to suck for a while. He couldn’t do anything to change that at the moment or for the foreseeable future so he just had to deal.

When he got back to the apartment, Lup was there, digging through some bags from the store.

“Groceries?” Taako assumed, glancing into them as he passed by, prepared to help her put them away.

“Yep,” Lup agreed, but she quickly shoved one bag behind her back, refusing to let him see into it.

Taako raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn’t press it. He'd figure out what was in there sooner or later, and it would be better if Lup let her guard down first, instead of just trying to grab it out of her hands. His center of balance had been off lately, and she’d have a definite advantage at keeping shit away from him. Not about to embarrass himself like that.

As they finished up with the groceries, Lup pulled the secret bag back out.

"I was gonna wait to do anything like this, but I saw this and couldn't fucking resist," she said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a small scrap of fabric something- oh. A baby clothing- a onesie or whatever it's called. It read "My Aunt is like my Dad, but Cooler."

"You shouldn't have," Taako started. "Parasite's not gonna go out wearing such an obvious lie."

Lup scoffed, a bit of relief slipping into her expression at the fact that he didn't freak out about it.

"You really think you're gonna be able to keep up with me on the cool factor when you've got a sticky monster crawling on you and keeping you up all night? I'd love to see that," she said, setting the onesie down on the counter, and pulling out some very small socks.

"Oh my gods, those are tiny," Taako said, immediately, momentarily disregarding the first part of her comment in favor of grabbing the socks and staring, because how. How could any person be little enough to need those?

"I know!" Lup shouted. "Get this, apparently a ton of newborns are so small, these are literally too big at first."

"How?" Taako demanded. "Also- the little thing is going to be messy, yeah, but also adorable, natch, so it'll even out."

"Ehhh," Lup made a skeptical face at him. "Maybe when they're bigger, sure. But newborns are kinda ugly, not gonna lie. You can't say it, because it's rude, but they are. All scrunched up and red and shit, and they can't smile or anything either. So as long as it's this little, it's gonna be accurate."

Taako just flipped her off, digging into the bag and seeing a few other pieces of tiny, tiny clothing. Lup hadn't gotten much, and the rest was pretty plain, but it was blowing his mind how little all of it was.

He supposed that they had to be pretty little, to actually get born without killing their parent, but it was still hard to imagine.

He scooped the clothes up into his arms to put them away when it occurred to him that he had no idea where to put any of this.

"We're gonna have to move, aren't we?" He groaned.

"Yeah, probably," Lup agreed. "But that's way too far away too worry about. Just stuff it in your room for now."

Taako grumbled under his breath, but figured she had a point. Their lease wouldn't run out for months and the little guy was even further away. Still wouldn't be fun trying to move later on, because by then he'd probably have a lot more trouble with the whole 'moving around' thing.

He hadn't started to show at all yet, which was apparently normal, even if it seemed kind of weird to him. His whole fucking life had changed since he found out he was pregnant, and yet, there was still nothing to show for it. He didn't mind not being huge and awkward already, but something this big seemed like it should be noticeable.

But once it was noticeable, then he'd have to deal with reactions. Everybody he knew would be able to see it. And they'd have questions, or want to talk about it out of politeness or whatever. And strangers would be able to tell even. And they would think- who even knew what? It was going to be another layer on the bullshit sandwich.

He could handle it though. He could handle a lot of bullshit, and it had to happen for the kid to get here. And when the kid got here, that crap would be over with, and he'd have his baby. And that would be good. Probably. He hoped.

Lucretia figured that it might be best if she kept working with the twins on the paperwork for the child support. Now that she knew that Sebastian didn't plan on skipping out completely, it was less necessary that she play a role in the process, but it still might be the wisest decision. She had a rapport with the twins that Sebastian was lacking, and, despite everything, she actually liked seeing them. So it wouldn't be a hardship to work through this with them and relay the relevant information to her brother later.

Today, for the first time, Lucretia had been invited over to the twins' place. Lup had texted her the address of their apartment, and Lucretia was curiously looking around as she made her way over.

The place wasn't far from where the actual IPRE classes took place, which wasn't surprising. Still, it was an area that Lucretia wasn't very familiar with, and she was careful to keep track of where she was so she wouldn't find herself hopelessly lost.

It was a nice area, if definitely designed for college age kids. Lucretia and Sebastian still lived with their parents, in a completely separate part of town, and that might make it difficult for them to see the baby very often. If Seb even wanted to, and if Taako and Lup even let them.

Lucretia knew that she wanted to, at least. And she thought- hoped- she'd have a decent chance of being allowed that.

It was strange, thinking of her brother as a parent. And Seb's attitude wasn't doing anything to help that. But even if her brother never actually acted as a dad to this child, Lucretia still found herself thinking of them as family. It was irrational, maybe. There was nothing tying them other than blood, and it wasn't even a direct connection. But she couldn't shake it regardless.

The baby was her brother's kid, which meant that they were family. Family- family was important. It wasn't fair to take away the kid's only chance of accessing that part of their family just because Seb was an immature dick. And- it wasn't fair to her, either, that she cared about the baby already and she could have lost any chance of seeing them because of her brother's irresponsibility.

As she got closer to the twins' apartment, Lucretia forced herself to focus on the numbers of each address, rather than let her mind run wild.

She found the right building, and made her way inside and up to the twins' unit quickly, pausing only briefly when she arrived at the door.

It was quickly answered by Lup, who smiled brightly and grabbed Lucretia's hand to pull her inside.

Taako was in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled really good. He waved as Lup pulled Lucretia behind her into the kitchen and shoved her towards a chair, before joining her brother.

"What'd you bring us?" Lup asked, indicating the envelope Lucretia had been fiddling since she'd arrived.

"A gift," Lucretia said, pushing the envelope over.

Both twins looked at the envelope curiously, almost eerie in the similarity of their expressions, but Taako was the one to grab the envelope from the counter.

He opened it, pulling out the money inside.

"My favorite kind of gift," he said, grinning.

"Nice!" Lup agreed, looking over at Taako excitedly.

"What's the occasion?" Taako asked, pocketing the money and resuming his cooking.

"It's from Seb. You could call it the first support payment, I suppose," Lucretia explained.

"Why's he suddenly being nice?" Taako asked, turning to face Lucretia as he spoke. "He doesn't have to fork anything over yet. What's in it for him?"

"This counts for some of the support he owes during the pre-natal period. Seb decided he'd rather make a bunch of small payments than a couple big ones later on," Lucretia said. "Figured it would be easiest for everyone. He doesn't have to save up so much, you guys get cash faster."

"Best for everyone, huh?" Lup said, a little skeptically.

"Yes," Lucretia responded, exasperated. "He's not a monster, you know. If it's good for him and good for you, then he's not going to go out of his way to make things harder just to spite you guys."

Taako and Lup exchanged a quick look at her words, and Lucretia got the feeling that they were having a whole conversation without her.

"Still an ass, though," Lup muttered, finally.

"Never said he wasn't," Lucretia said, a peace offering.

The kitchen fell into silence for a moment- not quite awkward but not entirely comfortable either. Lucretia found herself tapping her fingers against the counter nervously, wishing she had a notebook to doodle in.

"Hey, now that we have more cash, we can go supplies shopping," Lup said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, hell yeah!" Taako immediately perked up at her words, excitement breaking across his features. "Time to make a bombass nursery!"

The juxtaposition of the words made Lucretia grin in amusement. But she was glad that the twins were getting excited about this. She wanted her nibling to have a good family and childhood, and it was something of a relief to see the obvious affection they twins had for them already. She liked Taako and Lup, but they didn't exactly give off mature or parental vibes. Lucretia hadn't been worried about it, exactly, but she liked the reassurance that they cared anyway.

"You know any good baby stores, Luce?" Taako asked.

Lucretia hadn't been expecting the question, but she responded eagerly.

"I do! I actually helped out on a ranking of local baby-centered supplies shops only a few months ago, so I can look over my notes from that and give recommendations."

"Ranking? For what?" Lup asked.

"I'm a writer. I do some work for a local media group. I haven't done many reviews in a while, not since I was a junior writer, but a friend asked for some help on that project," Lucretia explained, sheepish at forgetting to give context.

"Wait, how old are you? If you're already a senior writer, or whatever?" Lup asked, tilting her head curiously.

"I'm not a senior writer, just not a junior writer anymore. I've been working for them since I was sixteen and I'm nineteen now," Lucretia explained, letting a little pride slip into her voice. She was a good writer, and she knew it. She'd gotten the job as part of the youth outreach and education program, but most of the teens employed through that program were temporary hires. She was one of the few who proved herself enough to stay on longer.

"Damn, that's pretty good for a baby!" Taako said, raising a hand for a high five that Lucretia returned with a giggle.

"Thanks. But I'm not a baby, and you probably don't want to call me one," she said.

"You're nineteen. I hadn't lost all my milk teeth by nineteen. You're a baby," Taako said.

"Okay, I guess, but if I'm a baby and my brother is a year younger than me, what does that make you?" Lucretia responded.

Taako and Lup both made disgusted faces at the words, which made Lucretia laugh.

"Okay, shit, you're an adult, just don't ever remind me of that again!" Taako said, mock gagging. "I'm never fucking dating a human again, gods."

"Deal," Lucretia said, still laughing a little.

"And here I was trying to be nice," Taako said, face relaxing out of the disgust. "You're an ass too, huh? Just a sneaky one."

"Takes one to know one," Lucretia said, dry. "How'd you think I had you two figured out so fast?"

"Hey, non-assholes are boring anyway," Lup shrugged. "This way, we can actually be friends."

Lucretia smiled at the suggestion that they were friends. She wasn't a complete loner, but she hadn't made very many friendships here so far. She was glad to have more among that number.

Still, amongst the happiness was the slightest twinge of discomfort at the words. She wasn't quite sure why, and mentally prodded at the feeling, reminding herself that this was a good thing. She liked the twins and she liked spending time with them. Yes, it may be a little awkward and complicated because of the situation with Seb, but overall this was good.

The twins finished cooked, and started to plate their food. Lucretia was surprised when they made up a third plate for her, and took it from Lup gratefully.

"Thank you. This smells wonderful," Lucretia said.

"Natch! We're fucking awesome cooks," Lup boasted, and Lucretia believed it, as she took a bite and had to hold herself back from eating it too quickly.

"You certainly are," Lucretia agreed, between mouthfuls.

Taako and Lup both preened under the praise, but Lucretia only had eyes for Lup's happy expression.

Oh.

Shit.

Lucretia almost choked on her next bite as it hit her. She had a crush on Lup. And she couldn't do anything about it, because she couldn't take the risk of making things awkward with one of her nibling's only family members. Because it would be awkward, because no way would Lup feel the same. Not only was she absolutely gorgeous and amazing, but this whole conversation had proved that Lup saw her as a child and a friend, not a potential partner.

She willed herself to calm down and not react. She didn't need to say or do anything about this. It would pass as long as she reminded herself that it wasn't going anywhere. It would be fine.

"I'll make sure to send you my notes," Lucretia said, turning to Taako and changing the subject. "On the baby stores."

"Nah, actually, you should just come with," Taako responded. "I'm sure you write great and all, but I don't feel like reading all that when you can just tell us."

"I- are you sure?" Lucretia asked. "I don't mind- but it's not my apartment or my baby. I don't want to intrude."

"That's even better. You can be a neutral opinion when me and Lulu start bitching over what to get," Taako said, grinning mischievously at Lup as he said it.

"Then, yes, I suppose I can come," Lucretia agreed, trying not to think about the fact that she was agreeing to spend hours shopping for cute and domestic things with the girl she'd just realized she had a crush on. Taako would be there, and none of this was her stuff, so it would be fine.

"Nice. Me or Lu will text you with the deets, okay?" Taako said, still looking at Lup as he said it. Then- "Ow!" - the look turned into a scowl.

"Whoops! I gotta be more careful where I swing my legs, sorry 'Ko."

#taz balance #taako adventurezone #lup adventurezone #lucretia adventurezone #lupcretia #taako taaco #lup taaco #taz lucretia #the adventure zone #my writing #kidfic #angus mcdonald #eventually

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foxtophat · 3 years

Link

(still trying to figure out how i link these but whatever)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! i decided to just sit down and hammer out the last edits for this lil one-shot so i could get it out today!

i’m gonna be real with you: the only reason i wrote this fic is because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head. you weren’t supposed to see mercyverse for another month, honestly!!! but it’s been cold as fuck here and it’s made me fantasize about classic bed-sharing tropes, and so here we are!

this is a bit of a slice of life, to sort of give an idea of how day-to-day these guys all interact, especially now that carmina doesn’t have to pretend john doesn’t exist. plus, i’m starting to see how the caches might be involved in the overarching plot???? awesome!!!

as usual, the full text is below the cut for my friends who don’t wanna leave tumblr. i hope you enjoy -- feel free to leave a comment, i loooove hearing from readers. likes and reblogs are also great! kudos are fantastic! adding to the hit counter is just fine by me!!! anything you do to show support for fanfic is a good thing imo. i hope y’all have a happy wintereenmas or whatever and i will see you guys in 2021 with more mercyverse :)

The best thing Nick can say about the blizzard currently sweeping the county is that he could see that it was coming. They'd gotten almost a foot of snow the night before, which gets him worried about getting snowed in, and as the day progresses, the sky grows an ominous gray that Nick recognizes from a lifetime of living in the area. He knows that they probably only have a few hours left before they're going to want to get inside and avoid the worst a winter storm has to offer.

Nick and John spend the entire morning hauling wood into the house, while Kim does her best to clean out the broken chimney and ensure they won't die of smoke inhalation. They also pull in some pre-made stock that Kim had left in the freezer after it had gotten cold enough to use, as well as a few smaller pieces for miscellaneous projects. But with the storm rolling in overhead, they don't have long; they end up leaving a lot of things for later as the wind whips up around them and turns the snow sideways.

By two in the afternoon, they've closed the doors to officially bunker down for the rest of the blizzard. They have enough wood to last them three days, plus their military rations and plenty of coffee, so Nick isn't particularly concerned about their safety. The only thing he's really got to contend with is boredom, which is easier to stave off in the first few hours of captivity than it is later in the evening.

For the most part, Nick passes the time by sharpening their knives, cleaning their guns, and checking the radio every hour for any emergencies. The blizzard ensures that not many people are on, but at least he gets to check in with Jerome and make sure that Grace is safely in her bunker. It's unlikely they'll get in contact with the trailer park until after the worst passes, but that just means Nick's gonna worry about those jackasses all night.

Kim is probably the only one comfortable with the downtime, making the most of things as she chews on the radio's instructions. When the technical jargon gets to be too much, she switches to entertaining Carmina, who gets bored quick when her only job is to keep the fire going. The easiest distraction comes from card games; the deck they'd had in the bunker had shrunk to only 32 cards, but now that they've got a full deck to work with, Carmina is eager to relearn and master games like Go Fish and Old Maid. Nick doubts Jacob planned to be entertaining kids with his survival gear, but it's not like the guy's gonna complain.

Carmina isn't the only one that Jacob is keeping busy beyond the grave. Ever since they found that cache of his, John has been borderline obsessed with figuring out what the point of it could be. He'll go all day without mentioning the puzzle plaguing him, but any available downtime has him staring at the map and its coordinates. Nick and Kim have both been keeping an eye on it, just in case it turns into something worse than his usual tunnel-vision, but so far it hasn't gotten out of hand. If anything, John seems more aware and alert now that he has something to focus on, and now Nick can even pretend he's a normal guy for conversations at a time before being reminded otherwise.

Of course, the blizzard's making it impossible to find alternate distractions. John does spend part of the afternoon in his room, but eventually, he can't help but come downstairs to mull over the map. There's only one problem with that — they've hung the map up in the radio room, so there's about ten minutes every hour where Nick has no choice but to sit in John's presence. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if there was somewhere else either of them could be, but they're stuck for the foreseeable future. John's looming is just going to be part of Nick's life until the storm passes.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Nick reluctantly tries to have the same level of interest in the random dots that John shows. His attention, however, is distracted by the penciled-in changes that he, Kim and John have all been making to the landscape. The river's wider in some places now, and there are doodles of trees in spaces that were once open fields. A few X's mark places where bridges have collapsed, and Kim's circled anywhere they've made radio contact with. Their notations have scattered across the valley, and have even spread over to the river region thanks to Hurk and his raider gang, but they still don't know anything about the mountains, or even the spaces that are supposedly occupied by bow-wielding religious nutjobs. It's going to be a while before any of them get the nerve to go poking that particular hornet's nest.

John has his little notebook open, but he's not writing anything down. Nick's not sure what he would even put down, since they haven't gotten any more leads since early autumn, but he's always got the thing tucked in a pocket nowadays. Maybe Nick should be mad he outright stole that resource from the rest of them, but — well, come on. He can't yell at the man for taking up journaling, not without flying in the face of every therapist Nick had pretended not to listen to. It's just... well, what the hell is there for him to write down?

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" John asks, because of course he does.

"That's rich, coming from the guy lurking over my shoulder all day." Nick flips off the static-ridden radio frequency, leaning back in his chair so that he can get a better look at the map push-pinned to the wall. "I hear if you look at it just right, you can see a sailboat."

John's clearly not much of a Kevin Smith fan, because he only sighs heavily at Nick's flat joke. "If you have something better for me to be doing, I'm all ears," he says, revealing to Nick at last just how bored he really is. Weirdly enough, being in the same boat as John is somehow reassuring.

"Okay, fine. At least tell me what you're staring at, so I know what to fake interest in."

Even though it's mostly a joke, it lands softly enough that John doesn't take offense. Stuffing the notebook in his back pocket, he shakes his head, gesturing at the map. Getting John to explain himself is usually like pulling teeth, but right now he seems relieved to have someone to bounce his thoughts off of. It's a long way away from the guy Nick remembers saving, enough so that it almost catches his full interest.

"It's nothing in particular, really. I've already spent hours staring at this thing, but I'm... still looking for a pattern, I guess. Jacob was paranoid and secretive, but if there's a hidden code buried in these coordinates, it's beyond me to see it. And the snow was already keeping us from traveling too far — now with this blizzard, we're likely stuck with no new information until spring ..."

John sighs, rubbing his forehead as the pretense finally abandons him. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do until then."

That's certainly a feeling that Nick can relate to. Nick is less of a workaholic than John might be, but that doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy without his own set of chores. Hell, that's why he's been hanging around the radio in between games of cards with the girls and cleaning whatever he can get his hands on. It must suck extra for John; the guy's been spinning his tires in the dirt for years, probably, and being this close to having a purpose beyond doing whatever chores Nick sets him to must be irritating.

Nick props one leg up against the wall, tapping his boot against the wood as he ponders the dots scattered around the map. There are a few still in the valley, but there's no driving until they thaw out. The points in the mountains are probably inaccessible to anybody, and who knows when they'll get to investigate the old vet center or find the Wolf's Den. There are a couple points nearer the trailer park, though, and not for the first time Nick tries to measure the distance from Hurk to the various red dots. There's one near the lumber mill, and one near where that godawful statue was, and of course one right smack dab in the middle of the original Peggy compound.

Nick can't imagine his truck making it all the way there and back, not without more information about the roads. Hurk might not have the same trouble. "I could send the trailer park a couple coordinates," he points out. "They might get to search before us, and it could cut the work in half."

Despite John's scowl, he only sounds tired as he replies, "I've considered it, but I don't trust them. Then again, I hardly trust myself, so who knows."

"I guess you're shit outta luck, then," Nick says. John takes obvious offense at Nick brushing him off, but hey, what else is Nick supposed to do? "God's giving you a freebie with this blizzard. Maybe you should try catching up on your sleep, or something."

"And ruin the precarious schedule I'm keeping?"

"Jesus, then go read a book! Just — you know, quit hovering over me all day. Don't you know how to entertain yourself?"

John seems unphased by Nick's half-hearted outburst. "This is how I entertain myself. Maps, resources, legal documents — that's probably the only decent outlet I've ever had." He stares at Nick's boot, unwilling to meet his eyes. "At least, it's the only one healthy enough to keep."

That is probably a safe bet, Nick realizes, quickly trying to backpedal away from the open scab that is John's history. "Uh, well, what about before the cult?"

John surprises them both with a brief laugh. "If I could source some coke, then yes, I would be entertained."

"Jesus, John."

"I'm not known for my healthy self-care habits," John points out, a little too smug to be truly self-deprecating. At least he seems to understand what Nick had been getting at originally, deferring with a vague hand-wave. "Is my loitering in the kitchen going to be too smothering for you, too, or is that okay?"

Nick rolls his eyes, flipping the radio back on to scan the channels once again. "It's fine, whatever. Just as long as you've got something better to entertain yourself than snaking the whiskey Jacob left."

"I'm more of a gin guy," John admits.

"Of course you are."

It's still a relief, though, knowing they aren't keeping an alcoholic too near his fix. On top of that, John's relaxed disregard for his past vices settles nerves Nick hadn't even realized were rattled. Sure, there's probably a whole other box of American Psycho- esque worms waiting to be opened up from John's time before Eden's Gate, but at least he seems to have comfortably packed that part of his life away for now. Unlike talking about the cult, John has no trouble dropping the conversation, just as casually as he'd brought it up. He retreats into the kitchen to mull over whatever he's written down already, leaving behind no traumatic story or sad-eyed stare — just the casual admission that he would really like to do some drugs.

Weirdly enough, that is probably the most respectable thing about John to date.

Nick spends another fifteen minutes checking the radio, scanning the channels he knows people use most. He winds up with nothing to show for it — either the storm is making radio communication impossible, or everybody else has given up on their radios. It's only after he's cleared the range twice that he flips the radio off and escapes back to Kim and Carmina, leaving John in the kitchen with a broad, somehow-sarcastic gesture towards the now unoccupied radio nook.

Carmina ropes Nick into a game of Go Fish, which Kim seems keen on losing. Nick isn't surprised — Carmina is a wily player, which is to say that she tries to bluff her way through hands with all the grace of a sledgehammer. Kim's not as willing to put up with cheating as Nick is, but neither of them are capable of even pretending to believe Carmina's poker face. It's going to be a problem one day, but Nick isn't exactly ready to teach his daughter how to lie to his face.

Well, that is until she and Nick are on their third round of Go Fish, and Nick has had to pretend not to see through all of Carmina's gambits.

He asks her if she has any threes, and she scrunches her nose up as she glances meaningfully at her cards. "Go fish," she says, making Nick regret not having Kim sit right behind their daughter as a referee.

"Fine," he grumbles, "If you say so."

Kim blinks skeptically at the pants she's fixing, but she doesn't offer Nick any out. If it weren't for his clumsy hands, maybe he could use darning socks and patching shirts as an excuse to quit playing, but as it stands, the only thing he has other than getting trounced is staring at the map with John. And since he already tried that and found it to be mildly aggravating at best...

"You know, this would be more fun with more people," Nick says, desperately glancing at Kim.

Kim, of course, gives him no quarter. "Why don't you ask John," she suggests rhetorically.

"John," Carmina calls out, "Do you wanna play Go Fish?"

Nick opens his mouth to chastise Carmina, but he realizes there's nothing to discipline her for. Especially not when John flippantly replies, "I think your father's looking to play with fewer cheaters, not more."

"I'm not cheating!" Carmina exclaims, not-so-surreptitiously pressing her cards into her lap to ensure nobody's looking at them. Between that and her guiltily furrowed brow, there's no hiding it. Her poker face needs a lot of work.

"Go Fish isn't even worth cheating at," Nick sighs, gesturing for her cards. "If that's the way you wanna play, at least do it the right way. Here, gimme your cards — John, come over here so I can teach my daughter how to lie to your face."

As if playing a game of cards with John wasn't enough to excite Carmina, she's doubly over the moon when he tells her the rules. After all, a ten-year-old girl is the prime demographic for the game Bullshit, especially when she's given carte blanche to shout cuss words at her dad. On top of that, it seems like bluffing really is half of the fun for his daughter — which is a little intimidating, sure, but at least he knows she's smart enough to understand the utility of lying.

John is... unenthusiastic, to say the least, but that only makes the prospect of humiliating him that much better. A few weeks ago, Nick would've thought John was too fragile to be messed with, but now there's a bounce in his step that will make taking him down easier. He's got to do something to remind himself that this nearly-tolerable man is usually a miserable sonofabitch.

Unfortunately, John has a fantastic poker face. Nick figured that from the get-go, but it's still daunting to play against a bored, uninterested party. That's probably why Carmina avoids John in favor of hounding Nick, calling out "bullshit!" with delightful glee whenever she thinks Nick has dropped the wrong face card or played a nine instead of a King. On the one hand, Nick appreciates that he can read her as well as she can, but on the other hand, he'd really like a chance to beat John. So far, he's the only one who's called John out, and all he has to show for it is the extra six cards in his hand.

Although Kim is on standby for this round, she keeps flashing Nick amused grins whenever Carmina calls bullshit. Nick almost hopes John can hold it together to be mundane for two entire rounds of cards because he wouldn't stand a chance against Kim.

Case in point, John lays down two cards that are meant to be threes, and Kim clicks her tongue disapprovingly. Carmina frowns up at her mom, who only shrugs and suggests, "I would call him out, if I were you."

John's neutral frown doesn't change. "Last I checked, you weren't playing," he says.

Kim only shrugs in response. Nick furrows his brow at Kim while Carmina squints suspiciously from the discard pile to John and then back again. Of course, encouraging a ten-year-old to swear is always going to win out, and so Carmina wrinkles her nose and calls John out with a slightly uncertain, "Okay, bullshit."

Without so much as a grimace of defeat, John lets Carmina flip his played cards — one three, and one dirty, rotten, lying, bullshit seven .

"That's what I thought," Kim says, flippantly triumphant. "Guess you're not as hard to read as you thought."

Nick sure can't tell what John's thinking as he lifts one shoulder noncommittally. "I stand corrected."

"Wait," Nick asks, "What gave it away?"

"I'm not helping you too , Nick," Kim laughs. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's not exactly fair to help Carmina," John points out. Nick bets he's just as interested in what tell Kim noticed, although he manages to be less obvious about it. At least he can't crack Kim's smug smile any better than Nick, which is some small compensation.

Nick manages to win this hand, if only because his play strategy involves lying as little as possible. That seems to work against Carmina no problem, but Nick suspects John threw the game out of personal disinterest. If it weren't for the howling winds whistling through the roof and second story, John would probably excuse himself from another hand by retreating upstairs, but as it is he manages to sit through one more round of cards, this time with Kim joining in.

Carmina's poker-face doesn't improve by leaps and bounds, exactly, but she manages to fool Nick into picking up a fat stack of cards, so that's something. Too bad he'd been trying to teach her to lie to John , not her parents. Well — at least she's a nice enough kid to only do it for fun. He hopes, anyway.

Kim makes John's loss look more organic, at least, and she doesn't rub it in too badly when she wins. It's extra kind of her considering Nick is the one who called her last play bullshit, leaving him to rot in miserable third place after both his girls. Well, fine . At least Carmina seemed to have fun, even if Nick is now sitting with nearly half a deck in his hands. If the blizzard keeps up for too long, they might have to graduate to poker.

Before they can play any more card games, though, they take time out for dinner. It's almost normal, sitting around the fireplace with their military rations and some hot broth — if they were eating Marie Calendar pot-pies and watching Christmas movies, Nick would even be able to ignore John's presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

The next best thing to watching movies is talking about them, which has become something of a tradition between the Ryes. It all started in the bunker, where Kim and Nick ran out of normal Christmas stories and began taking turns narrating whatever holiday movies they could remember. They've run through all the memorable Rankin & Bass flicks, as well as a couple more contemporary ones, so they're starting to reach for their personal favorites or the very bottom of the barrel plots.

Nick intends to be paying Jingle All the Way a tribute tonight, but as soon as he mentions that the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle is one of his favorites, he's interrupted by John snorting derisively.

"Let me guess," Nick snaps, "You're one of those jackasses who pretends Die Hard is a legitimate Christmas movie just so he doesn't have to watch good, family-friendly content."

"It is a legitimate Christmas movie," John responds, just petulantly enough to tell Nick he hit the nail on the head.

"Look, Kim and I have already had this discussion — just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie . Set dressing alone isn't enough!"

John raises his eyes towards the ceiling, which is as subtle as his eyerolls can get. "Whatever you say, Nick."

"What's Die Hard about?" Carmina asks, excitedly guessing, "Does Santa get to shoot people in it?"

"That would be a good Christmas movie," Nick replies. "No, it's just about some guy who has to fight bad guys in a building."

"During Christmas," Kim points out.

"Okay, fine during Christmas. But nobody's dressed up like Santa, nobody sings any carols, and there sure as hell isn't any Christmas magic that saves the day, so it doesn't count!"

"So what does happen?" Carmina asks.

Damn it — Nick should have known that talking about an action flick would immediately disinterest her towards any sloppy story about consumerism. She doesn't even know what a mall is — but she knows how to shoot a handgun, and now that Nick's thinking about it, she might need to use the duct-tape shoulder holster trick one day. It would be pretty bad-ass if she knew how, anyway.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it real quick. I don't remember all the parts, so Kim, you gotta help."

Real quick turns out to take almost as much time as the movie itself had. Kim interjects whenever Nick forgets a plot point, but at least he remembers the core conflict. Sort of, anyway — by the time he's done recounting John McClane's tale, John looks visibly dissatisfied, and Kim has a "well, sort of" expression on her face that implies he didn't quite nail the execution. Well, who cares what they think? All that matters is that Carmina is entertained, and of course she is. After all, narrated or not, it's still Die Hard . Just so long as she doesn't ask about the sequels, they should be okay.

The wind is still whipping overhead, and Nick can see nothing beyond the windows. There's no telling how late it's gotten. Although his internal clock insists it can't have been that long since sundown, Carmina has been yawning for a while now, and the fire's gone down again. It looks like sleeping through the storm is the only pastime left for Nick to try.

Carmina takes over stoking the fire for the final time before bed, while Kim makes her way upstairs to gather as much of their bedding as she can carry. John follows reluctantly behind, clearly unhappy with the prospect of facing his own cold room, but Nick figures he can deal for five damn minutes. For his part, Nick busies himself checking the radio one last time, just in case there's an emergency. He doesn't know what they'd be able to do if there was one, but that doesn't stop him from checking anyway.

With the radio situated just under the stairs, it's easy to listen in to Kim stomping around in the room above, desperate to keep her temperature up. Nick had put off too many attic repairs before this winter — he's going to have to make up for that in spring, when he and John can worm their way into the rafters and ensure that their next winter won't turn the bedrooms into a cold wasteland. Of course, even if they did patch up the gaps in the floorboards and do their best to insulate the attic, not much can beat a genuine fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Nick isn't even paying attention to the radio, so he flips it off and trusts that everyone can keep themselves safe for another night. He hears the whump of fabric as Kim tosses their two biggest, least moldy blankets down for Carmina to start with, and the creak of footsteps on the landing overhead. Kim's voice isn't raised, but it carries down to Nick clear as a bell.

"John, you'll freeze if you stay up here," she says. "Get your stuff and come downstairs."

"It's not that cold," John says, attempting to deflect from one weak excuse with another. "I doubt Nick approved that suggestion."

Well, not technically, no, but Nick had sort of assumed they were already all on the same page. What does John think Nick's gonna do, force him to freeze upstairs so he can hog the fireplace all to himself?

Kim doesn't give the excuses a chance to breathe, replying with parental exasperation. "He and I both agree it's too cold to sleep upstairs." Nick can hear the teasing plain as day when she adds, "Just don't be weird about it."

Sure enough, suggesting John might be making things awkward is enough to get him to shut up and follow orders. Nick briefly longs for the days when John would mutely nod and do as told without any additional goading, but only for a second. Even that is long enough retrospection to remind Nick of how creepy and genuinely alarming it had been. Sure, John might get argumentative or exasperated now, but at least there's an actual person to communicate with. Nick might want to kick his ass more now than before, but he absolutely hated dealing with the hollow-eyed monster John had been.

Besides, it's way more satisfying being a dick to him now that he actually gets offended.

Despite John's furrowed-brow glares, Nick doesn't comment whatsoever on him trailing downstairs after Kim, clutching two actual blankets and a tarp that's weather-worn enough to pass muster. He stands and waits for someone to point him in the right direction as Kim and Carmina do their best to bundle together a soft place on the floor, but Nick studiously ignores him until he makes a decision himself. John takes a spot close to the fireplace, off to the right of where the girls are setting up. It's still plenty removed enough, so that nobody will get the wrong idea and think John is supposed to be welcome down here. Nick wonders who he's trying to convince, but there are so many damn demons in the man's head, it's anybody's guess.

With the fire roaring for the last time that night, all the blankets arranged and everybody looking exhausted despite not doing anything all day, Nick finally gets to crawl into bed and put this whole goddamn blizzard behind him. Hopefully, the weather has the common sense to clear up tomorrow — for now, it's time to shut out the cold entirely.

He must be tired. Nick barely stays conscious as Kim and Carmina climb under the blankets, the cool air rapidly warming as they begin to shift around and get comfortable. He rouses a few times at first as Carmina kicks his leg and Kim bumps into him, but eventually, he finds himself dozing in the silence of a quiet house. Far above them, the wind is whipping through the attic, but from down here, it sounds like a generic white-noise machine; coupled with the crackling fire, Nick is lulled to sleep by the sounds of peaceful normalcy.

Who knows how long it is before Nick finds himself conscious again. Even then, he only wakes enough to hear the dying fire popping by his feet. Maybe he should stoke it. But that would mean moving, and Nick is weighted down on either side beneath warm blankets, so that's a hard no. He tries first to roll towards Kim and Carmina, ready to curl into a ball and conserve even more heat, but his right arm is stuck. It takes a few bleary-eyed blinks to realize what's pinned him down, but he's barely coherent enough to make sense of it.

Sometime in the night, John must've migrated from the no-man's-land he'd made for himself towards the Rye's pile of blankets. Unsurprising, really — but more than a little awkward, given how he's pressed into Nick's side, pinning Nick's arm in place. Worse yet, half of his blankets have been absorbed into the mess that Nick's been using to keep warm, which is going to make extracting himself tricky if not impossible.

While he tries to figure out how to avoid making this mortifying situation worse, Nick watches John for any signs of consciousness. The guy usually sleeps light, but Nick watches his breathing for a solid minute and doesn't catch anything. Either his poker-face is just that good, or John is actually asleep. Deeply, peacefully asleep. Nick had assumed that was impossible.

If Nick were a better person, he'd probably be thankful to see it. Glad to know that John's insomnia might finally be coming to an end. But Nick is mostly just an exhausted, anxious mess, and now he's just wondering how to get out of the situation he's found himself in.

John shifts, and like a guilty ten-year-old, Nick immediately closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. If he's lucky, John will roll away of his own volition, or at least move enough to let Nick roll over himself. If only he'd decided to sleep on Kim's side — she wouldn't have the same trouble Nick has. She'd just kick him away and be done with it.

Slowly, John moves away from Nick. The relief is short-lived as John pulls back the covers enough to send a cold chill down Nick's side; it's a split-second decision that John immediately regrets, hissing under his breath and letting the blankets fall back into place as he recoils from the freezing temperatures.

Nick can't help his quiet huff of amusement — which is enough to break the illusion that he'd been asleep in the first place. He could probably still fake it, but if he does, John will definitely try to move his blankets, and that is going to be a much bigger problem than tolerating John in his personal space.

"Quit squirming so much," Nick mutters. "Gonna let in the cold."

John is silent and tense beside him, but he does stop squirming. It's like lying near a tense bar of iron. After a brief struggle to figure out what to say, John's embarrassment catches in his voice as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I — must have been tired."

Nick sighs. "Just don't crush my arm again."

Even though John moves as though Nick threatened him, he stops short of retreating from the blankets entirely. Nick can only imagine how cold it must be — every breath of his that makes it above the blanket-line comes with a faint puff of visible air. No matter how humiliating it might be to cuddle up to Nick, it doesn't seem like John had much of a choice in the matter.

Before John can decide to try escaping again, Nick repeats, "Whatever you do, don't let in the cold."

In for a penny, Nick decides, worming deeper into the makeshift bed so that John can have more room. Rolling over is the easiest way to avoid the mortifying process of finding a comfortable sleeping arrangement. Eventually, they wind up back-to-back; Nick normally wouldn't be able to stand John touching him, but the additional body-heat does a lot to soothe Nick's reservations. Who knew all he needed to tolerate John's physical presence would be cold weather and exhaustion?

The Deputy, probably, which only makes Nick grin in tired relief. At least they would be glad to know that Nick's grown as a person. They'd probably be glad to learn he's finally gotten on-board with not murdering the Seeds in cold blood — even if it took an apocalypse to get there. If they could see the shit he's gotten himself into now, they'd probably...

He sighs. It must be a heavier sound than he imagined, because John whispers, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick says immediately, as default an answer as John's yeses are. But that's not fair, he doesn't think, because they never let John get away with his obvious deflections. As late as it is, it's easy to blame his guilt on his exhaustion. "Just thinking about Rook," he admits.

"Oh."

John is clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he doesn't react when Nick continues sleepily, "They'd get a kick outta this, is all."

John hums. It's a quiet noise, but Nick can feel it vibrate through John's shirt. If there are two people Nick hates bringing Rook up around, it's Sharky and John. Sure, Sharky's crush was the one that was reciprocated, but Dep had always treated John's flat-footed overtures like creepy compliments instead of outright threats. They'd probably figured John's crush was superficial, whereas Sharky's had been more real than probably anything else Nick had seen the poor sap go through. John's infatuation had been about power, control, and Joseph goddamn Seed. Still, Nick can't help but wonder just how much of it might've been real to John at the time.

"They had a bad sense of humor," John finally responds, quietly enough that Nick almost misses the hurt.

"Terrible," Nick agrees.

When John sighs, Nick recognizes it as a sign of defeat. Whatever he's debating with himself, he's clearly lost. Although he doesn't speak up again, Nick isn't sure he's gone back to sleep. He sure hopes he didn't just instill another restless night in the guy, but that's John's burden to bear. Maybe he can use it to finally find some common ground with Sharky.

Nick isn't even sure that he can fall back asleep, but that doesn't seem to matter. Before he knows it, he's being woken up once more — this time by a glance of sunlight coming in through the upper part of the windows. It's just enough light to wake him, but he spends an exhausted minute staring at the wall over Kim's shoulder as he debates whether or not he's really committing this time. He's going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later — and just thinking that is enough to tell Nick that he's not getting back to sleep again.

John's back is still facing Nick, and Kim rolls away as soon as Nick starts to squirm, which leaves his path to escape much more open than it was a few hours ago. He manages to pull himself free without waking anyone else, but as soon as he does, John worms into the warm spot left behind. Nick should probably be upset, but mostly he just needs to pee. He can kick John out of his spot after he takes care of himself.

Nick leaves the rest of them to sleep as he tiptoes across the living room to the front door. Unfortunately, the door only wedges open an inch before it hits a wall of snow. Unwilling to wake anyone else up with catastrophic noise, Nick heads upstairs, going for the broken window in John's room. It's freezing up here, cold enough to keep meat until spring, and Nick pulls his flannel closer as he crosses the room, trying not to take too much stock of his surroundings. He doesn't care about the tallies John used to carve in the wall by his bed, and he definitely doesn't care to snoop through the pile of clothes that John's been growing in the corner. What he does care about is how easy it is to crawl out onto the roof from the window — after all, this isn't the first time Nick's been snowed in, and he's made escaping his childhood home an art-form.

There's a good three and a half feet of snow on the ground below, blocking any exit from the first floor. At least the gray sky above is calm, and the weather seems to have calmed down some. They'll have to prepare for another couple of inches before the week's out, but Nick bets the worst of it is over. Now he can think about breakfast — more specifically, coffee — and debate the best way to clear the doorways. They need a path out to the hangar, although they can wait another day or two before they'll need to press the matter. Nick's still convinced there's a set of tire chains hiding away in there, but it's not like the roads will be in any condition to drive on for a while yet...

Nick spends so much time thinking about what he's got to do, he forgets to consider how willing the rest of the house will be to pitch in. The top-of-the-snow sunlight isn't enough heat to make up for the lack of a fire, and getting Kim out from under the blankets is gonna be like pulling teeth until he does something about it. Worse yet, John's rolled into the spot Nick had occupied — not exactly sprawled out, or anything, but the guy is irritatingly close to Kim's sleeping back. If he decided to roll one more time, he'd probably end up smacking his face into her shoulder.

Nick considers throwing a fit on principle, but honestly, that's too much work. It's much easier to sulk, glowering at the bed he's definitely not getting back into before getting some logs to stack in the fire. He drops them noisily by John's feet, although he makes every effort not to accidentally pull a Misery on the guy.

The sound of hollow wood clattering on the ground is enough to stir John, who wakes with a sharp inhale, and cause Carmina to groan and turn away from the noise. Kim has probably been awake for a while now, but it won't make a lick of difference until the fire's on.

He turns away to toss the logs semi-haphazardly into the fireplace, then remembers the kindling and turns to get it. John has propped himself on his elbows, but his half-waking confusion causes him to overlook Nick entirely as he stares around the room. Seeing Kim and Carmina asleep next to him is initially met with confusion. He barely seems to recognize the shapes bundled in the blankets, but when he does he recoils in shock. All the nasty comments Nick had thought up take an abrupt backseat as he stops to marvel at the physical repulsion John shows. He's not sure if he should be offended or not. Probably not, but this apocalypse has got Nick wired all wrong.

"She's not gonna bite," Nick says. John whips his attention back to Nick the moment he raises his voice, only for Nick to realize that looming over the guy with a thick block of wood in hand might send the wrong message.

Sure enough, John catches sight of him, jerking back with a startled hiss. " Jesus !"

"Shit, sorry." Nick turns and drops the log, wincing at the noise that he'd moments ago been deliberately making. "Well, judging from that reaction, looks like this isn't the first time a man's caught you in bed with his wife."

John's withering glare is enough to lift Nick's mood right up. He turns his attention back to starting the fire, listening as John slowly shifts his way free of the blankets. Part of him wants to make a few more jokes at John's expense, but that can wait until John's coherent enough to be snide in return.

Nick gets the fire going and turns to follow John, who's made his way into the kitchen to peer out the window. "Completely snowed in," Nick tells him as he gets the instant coffee and the beat-up kettle. "But it looks like the worst of it's over."

"Seems to be," John agrees, adding, "We forgot the shovels in the truck. It's going to be difficult digging them out now."

"Not a lot of other options, unless you wanna stay inside until the big thaw. Don't worry, I'm sure Carmina will be excited to help us dig."

John hums in assent, although his mind seems to be somewhere else. Nick can't help but notice that John's pensive states seem damned near reasonable nowadays. He has plenty to think about, and he seems to be keeping one foot in the here-and-now. He's aware enough of his surroundings that he stops Nick before he can leave John to it.

He tries to stare Nick down, but he can't quite manage it. "Thank you for not..."

John gestures vaguely as the rest of the sentence fails to generate. Nick could probably wait it out, but he's just as embarrassed as John apparently is, and he would rather move past the whole thing.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says. "Just don't get too comfortable cuddling up to me."

Rolling his eyes doesn't hide John's faint smile, but he turns away before Nick can see if it lasts. "That won't be a problem, trust me."

Nick is surprised that he does, even for something as small and inconsequential as a joke. "Grab the mugs when you're done looking for Santa," he says, turning back for the warmth of the fire. A few months ago, Nick might've resented how eroded the line has become between John and his own family, but it's honestly too much work to keep up. At a certain point, they're just going to have to include John in their daily routines — Nick just hadn't expected that point to be made by sharing blankets during a blizzard.

Well, there's one good thing about that, Nick supposes — it means that somewhere up there, the Deputy is watching over them. After all, there's no way in hell random chance has the same shitty sense of humor as Rook had.

#fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #christmas fic #mercyverse #my fic #i don't even use that tag any more wtf??? whatever #love you guys have a safe holiday <3

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ikemenshakespeare · 4 years

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Harr X MC | “Spring Fever”

Warning: NSFW.

Authors Note: I’ve been inspired to write something like this since “A Charming Change” event released a while ago. They missed a few of our favorite guys, So I asked around and most people said they were curious to see our boy Harr with a different type of personality then his regular shy withdrawn self. Although the storyline is not the same (like at all.) I had fun putting in my own creative twist on the idea of opposite personalities! As always enjoy, reblog, and comment because I love to see feedback from you guys. Thank you to all who read! 💕

Harr darted onto a quiet ally still hand in hand with me. He let out a small sigh of relief but I stared him down with a frown. “What’s wrong?” We were casually strolling through central quarter and next thing I knew he was frantically trying to find some place to hide.

“There’s just so many people, I’m not used to openly walking around like this.” I looked behind me to exam the scene, trying to understand the feeling Harr was having. With close examination all I could see were the many people laughing and enjoying each others company.

“Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. After all, the weather is beauitful. I find going out like this really fun, I think you just have to give it some time and you’ll grow to love it too.” The sounds of spring played peacefully. The birds were chirping and the wind whistled a soft happy tune as it breezed by. Looking into his eyes I could still see the conflict, but he responded confidently.

“I guess you’re right, let’s continue.” He stiffly led me back into the busy street and we began walking once more. I thought back on all that’s happened in the past couple months. Harr had his reputation as ‘The Wanted Wizard’ upheld after he helped both armies defeat the currupt magic tower. He was so used to living in his own isolation that he forgot what it’s like to be around lively groups of people, to be excepted in a town which he came from. I glanced around hoping to find something that would take his mind off the nerves. I suddenly stopped short, in awe of what I saw. A little Kiosk stood on the corner of the road. The entire thing was covered in a number of different flowers, Some I’d seen before and some I had not. Harr spoke up, “what is it MC?”

“Look over there, have you ever seen this little shop before?” He looked over and shook his head, a shy no. “Do you mind if we take a look? Maybe they sell flower arrangements, I’ve been meaning to get something new to spiff up my bedroom.” He smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand.

“Sounds like a plan.” As we walked closer I saw a woman a bit older then us organizing bottles. I spoke up to get her attention.

“Hello, Miss?”

“Oh hi! Are you be interested in purchasing one of our perfumes?” Perfumes?

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I was admiring your kiosk and thought you might be a flourist. My mistake.” The woman’s smile never faltered.

“Well that’s quite alright, You can still sample and see if you’re interested?” She pulled up one of the bottles she’d been organizing earlier. The pattern was an array of 5 different colors so bright I thought it may be glowing.

“I really don’t have much money, so I don’t know if I’d be able to purchase something as fancy as that.” Harr looked down at me then spoke to the shopkeeper.

“Can we take a look at it?” Her smile gleamed.

“See! This young man understands quite well what a woman wants. If your hesistant to try for yourself, maybe your boyfriends opinion could help make up your mind?” She handed the bottle over for Harr to inspect then continued on. “Our scent is made up of several of cradles most beauitful flowers, that’s why I’ve decorated my kiosk this way. Every bottle is unique due to its combination of colors which upon movement of the bottle reveal many different variations.” As if testing her theory Harr tilted the bottle, and surely the rainbow pattern changed.

“It’s beauitful...” I stepped forward to take a closer look for myself now. The woman stared on expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to try it sir?” To my surprise Harr wore a skeptical look on his face. I spoke up not wanting him to get uncomfortable.

“The scent is for woman right? If you don’t wanna smell feminine I could-”

“It’s fine.” One quick spray and the area around us smelt of the most wonderful flower field. Surprising since he’d sprayed it directly on himself.

“It smells amazing!”

“It really does! People say while wearing it they find themselves feeling more active or excited. Some have even said they’ve felt amorous.” The way she spoke those last words left a sour feeling inside me. It was almost as if her whole demeanor had changed. Using my better judgement I gave my final decline to her offer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ll be buying anything from you today. Thank you for all your kindness!” With that I turned around and walked away as quickly as possible, dragging Harr not far behind me. I know I saw a park a couple blocks back, maybe we could head over there to sit down and relax. The entire way Harr remained unusually silent, even for him. When we were just far enough into the park I stopped to ask him, “That women was a bit strange, wasn’t she? I’m glad we got out of there when we did.” No response, I turned around. “Harr, are you feeling alright?” Before I could make eye contact, I felt myself being pushed to the ground. “HARR?!-” my shout was muffled by his left hand against my mouth. I was in such shock I didn’t even notice he’d pinned my hands above my head.

“SHH.” He hissed. I tried mumbling some confused questions his way but they remained unheard. He gazed at me with eyes I’d never seen before. He looked lustful, maybe closer to hungry. We locked eyes for a moment before he slowly tilted my face, leaving one side of my neck exposed. I felt his tongue move leisurely down my neck. My body tighten as I breathed out a small moan. Harr gave me a deep chuckle in response, something I would never expect from him. My eyes widened in shock. “I never realized how cute you could be Alice, I should’ve taken control sooner.” Alice? He hasn’t called me that since we’d first met... Desperately I ripped my hands from his grip and used them to pry his fingers from my lips. Leaving his hand halfway between my jaw and throat.

“What is going on with you?? You can’t do this here, someone could see us.” I urged, I felt like my entire face was on fire. Yet somehow, his hands were warmer. Gentle as they were against my skin, his eyes were relentless.

“Alice, are you trying to tell me you don’t like it?” My brain practically flat lined at his words, All rational thought leaving my mind. Truthfully I had lost count of how many times I’d fantasized about Harr. Imagining all the possible things he could do to me. Even a moment like this was something I could only daydream about, but the possibility of it ever actually happening... Harr could never- Another unarming laugh fell from his lips, in the best way. “It’s written all over your face, you don’t really want me to stop, do you?” I’d been caught red handed, lying would do nothing for me now. I shook my head, turning a brighter shade of pink then should’ve been possible. A grin like moonlight spread across his face. Then he brought his lips unbearably close to my ear and nipped. A gruff whisper came to follow, “Alice, I promise to take care of you... so long as you behave like a good girl.” My heart hammered in my chest as he started undoing the buttons on my blouse, slipping his hands to cup my breasts. The sun was starting to set, and many of the towns people were more then likely on their way home. I could go against my better judgement and go through with this. Get away with our dirty little act and have some fun, but something inside me screamed it’s not right. This has to do with the woman at the perfume shop? I just know it! If he goes on like this he’ll regret it. I took my hands and placed them on either side of his cheeks, I struggled to speak through the undeniable moans of pleasure I felt.

“Ha-Harr, this isn’t like you. You don’t have to do this.” He paused abruptly and his one eye winced shut before flashing back open again.

“What are we...” Like he was having some sort of epiphany, he jumped back in surprise. “Eh-!” He fell back on his behind, using him arms as support. He was turning a shade of red that rivaled the color of my own cheeks, I’m sure. “The-the perfume. That’s the last thing I remember before I-” he looked me over hesitantly, a disheveled mess.

“She tricked us, it’s not your fault. As soon as I can I’ll be sure to notify the red and black army about what happened here!” I angrily began adjusting myself back to normal, buttoning my shirt and giving my hair a quick run though with my fingers. Harr gave me a weary look.

“No MC, it was my fault we’re in this position. I had a feeling that woman was up to something, but as soon as you volunteered to try out the perfume yourself I panicked and reacted without thinking. I’m sorry.” He looked away from me, ashamed. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight as I could.

“This wasn’t your fault, that lady played a nasty trick on the both of us. We can figure out what to do about her later, but for now we should head home. It’s starting to get dark.” The look of astonishment on his face was undeniably cute, but then he did something that surprised me for the upteenth time today. A soft kiss pecked my lips, so quick I could have been mistaken that he’d even done it at all. “What was that for?”

“You’re amazing, you know?” I grinned bashfully.

“Listen, My heart cant take much more of your antics. Are you sure all the effects have worn off?”

“Yes. But if you don’t mind I would like to say one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you.” He rendered me speechless. As he stood up he helped me to my feet aswell, brushing the grass off my skirt like the true gentleman he was. We spent our entire walk home in content silence. Our hands never apart from one another.

#Harr Silver #Otome #Ikemen Revolution #Fanfiction #Cybird #A Charming Change

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: Love, Maybe? {18}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Angst

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. 3 years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

Note: Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

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Chapter 18: First Steps

-Vixen-

“How long has it been?”

“About a week,” you responded as you spooned another overflowing spoon of vanilla ice cream into your mouth, then another soon followed.

“Okay, a week isn’t bad. I mean I’d expect a little adjustment period. The man just found out he has an almost-three-year-old daughter. I think a week is an acceptable amount of time to take,” Nexus calmly rationalized.

You weren’t as calm or seeing things the same. You were the complete opposite. Where she was calm, you were an anxious mess. You’d spent the last week in a hyperactive bubble of chaos. Your mind ran miles a minute, thinking what he was thinking, doing, how he was feeling. You worried more than anything. Part of you worried he’d decided he wanted to be involved, that he wanted to be her father and be completely hands-on, and another part of you worried he’d decided to cut and run, worried he didn’t want to know her, didn’t want to be a father. You worried about a lot more than that, to be honest, but touching on it was not something you were ready for. Instead, you stuffed your face with even more ice cream.

“You’ve been eating a lot of ice cream lately. You wanna talk about it?”

“I like ice cream,” you defended.

“Yeah, but you normally eat a lot of ice cream when you’re stressed and anxious.”

“Okay, yes, I’m stressed. This is an insane situation. A situation I created, but it's still a stressful situation.”

“I get it. You’re the mother of Chris Evans’ child. That is insane to think about, and even more insane to say it. The only way for us to get used to it is to keep saying it so say it.” You looked around the semi-crowded dessert shop. She was crazy if she thought you’d go shouting out your business. You looked back at her, and she gave you an expectant look as if she had no time to waste.

“Nex, you’re insane if you think I’m going to shout out my business—especially here.”

“I never said shout it. Whisper it if you have to, the point is you have to speak the words.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath; it wasn’t a full one. You hadn’t been able to take a full one for weeks, not since San Fran. It always felt like something was sitting heavy on your chest. You still hadn’t said the words. In three damn years, it was the one thing you had refused to say.

“Vix, come on.”

You sighed loudly and kissed your teeth. You looked over to Ella playing in the child area across the shop and smiled, watching her innocence. She was innocent in all this. She deserved everything good in the world.

“I am the mother of Chris Evans’ daughter. Chris Evans is my baby daddy.”

Nex snorted and shook her head. “Nice touch.” You sighed again and plopped a hefty spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “I don’t feel any better you false prophet.” Nexus laughed this time, drawing Ella’s attention. She laughed too making you smile.

“What if he’s decided to hell with her and the whole father shit? What if he hates me so much he doesn’t even want to bother?” the silence stretched between you and Nex and the two of you just stared at Ella. “Let’s say that is the case, how would that make you feel?”

“Feel? She had to be kidding. I’ve worked overtime for years to put a kaput on anything related to feelings. I made an effort to not even go near any content that could evoke any feelings.”

“Okay, something easier then. Would you be okay if that were his decision?” You rubbed your scalp; you were already regretting the intricate updo you’d put your hair in this morning. Reaching back, you took the pins out and sighed once you were free. “I’ve been living with just her and me for her whole life. It was without a thought of having someone involved. I never once thought hey what if he were, it was just not where I was. If he decided to just continue on his life knowing he has a child out there and chose not to be involved, I think I’d be okay.” You looked at Nexus who had a “bitch please” look on her face. Who were you kidding, you probably wouldn’t be okay with it. You’d probably be pissed though you had no right to be.

“Do you want him involved? I honestly think you’re more worried about him choosing to opt-out over anything else.” You took another attempt at a deep breath and was still unsuccessful. “If he opted out it would be like him not choosing me again, and even worse not choosing her. She’s a part of him Nex.”

“Not choosing you,” Nexus repeated. You didn’t even realize you’d said that out loud.

“Shit!”

Ella rushed over to you as quick as her little legs could manage and pulled on your pant leg. Sliding off the seat to sink to the floor getting on her level, she threw her arms around your neck burying her face into your chest. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” You lifted her and gently rocked her from side to side in an effort to soothe her. She didn’t answer, and you looked at Nexus communicating that it was time to go. Without missing a beat, Nex got up, gathered your trash and walked to the door where she discarded of the items in the bin. “What’s wrong Ella?” She didn’t respond to Nex’s question either. You assumed she was tired and decided it was time to head home. It had been a busy day.

By the time you made it back to the house and got Ella taken care of with a bath and a small snack the sun had set, and you were more than ready to call it a night. As you waited for the pizza to arrive, you scrolled through your social media and sipped a glass of wine. Curiosity got the better of you, and you typed in his name. As the results populated, you saw a bunch of images of him throughout the years, most from movies. You looked over the pictures and admired how his look had changed over the years.

When you’d met he wasn’t an ugly guy, you doubted he had ever been ugly it was universally impossible. He looked as if he was still in that stage of life where he didn’t’ want any ties, and he preferred things to be complication-free, it showed it in his small goatee. Now that goatee had filled out in a jaw-dropping way; his eyes had intensified with how blue they were. The night in the diner you couldn’t not look in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was the fact that his hair had gotten redder and it worked to bring out the blue more or if they had in fact gotten bluer. His eyes were Ella’s eyes. You loved spending hours just looking into her eyes through the years. It dawned on you the night at the diner why.

You were thankful when the doorbell rang to find it was the pizza. After Ella gobbled down two slices, she sauntered off to the playroom with Nexus’ finger tightly in her small hand, and there they remained for at least an hour. You didn’t even notice when Nex sat beside you on the back deck. She held out another bottle of wine which you smiled at. As she filled your empty glass your thoughts drifted yet again.

“So, not choosing you.”

You sighed because you knew she hadn’t let it go. You knew she’d bring it back up; you knew it would be one of those things that you’d have to face head-on. “Tell me about what that meant.” Gulping down the glass of wine, you refilled it and rubbed the smooth glass against your full bottom lip. “There are two possible nights Ella was conceived. Either it was the night we got married in Vegas or, the last night at his house here in LA after we’d signed the divorce papers. It’s impossible to tell really. They were days apart. Anyway, the night at his house after we’d—everything was good, it was amazing. it was always amazing Nex.” You sighed again taking a much-needed pause, the memories from that night were beginning to play in front of you like a movie and were bringing all the feelings with them.

“I mean, he carries himself with pure big dick energy, and it’s not a small amount it’s an overwhelming amount. I don’t understand how because he’s a white boy, but he has it.” You snorted unable to contain your amusement. She was right, you’d noticed it years ago. It was overpowering hence how you got married and then how Ella happened. “So, you’re saying Chris Evans lays good pipe. Wow,” Nex said as she stared into the backyard with an amazed look on her face.

“Good is an understatement. It’s not just the pipe that’s pure perfection.” Nexus gasped and looked to you like you’d just dropped the biggest bomb in the world. You gave her the eye and knew she got it. She giggled to herself while you immersed yourself in the memories again. “We’d spent the day together, had lunch, talked—a lot he comes off so relatable, so down to earth, you can tell he’s cut from a different cloth. I messed up and thought amazing dick and strong strokes meant more and could mean more, and he set me straight,” you summed up.

“What the hell does that mean? What did he do?” You stared into the glass you held and finally said the words out loud and allowed the emotions you felt then to float front and center for the first time since it happened. “What!? Oh, hell no he didn’t.” You nodded and finished the glass then poured the last of the bottle into your glass. Yeah, you’d finished the whole bottle by yourself.

“Wow, I’m speechless. He said that? Wow.” You nodded again and bit your bottom lip and rubbed your temples, feeling the throbbing start. “What’d you say?”

You’d wanted to cuss his ass out but if you’d done that it would have shown you cared more and that was the last thing in hell you would have done. “Nothing. He went to the bathroom. I got dressed and left. There was nothing to say. He made his position clear.” You both sat there in silence. You lost in the memories from that night and the things you could have said. You wondered if you would have said something showed that you cared if things could have been different. Would he have admitted he felt something too? Would the two of you have been able to get it together perhaps date, then raise Ella together this entire time? Would you have stayed married? Groaning you put the glass down. These were dangerous thoughts, thoughts that could ruin things more than they already were.

“He was the one that hurt you. He’s the reason you shut down, the reason no one ever had a chance all these years. The reason why Zack will never make it out the friend zone. He broke you.” It was then you remembered Zack. You hadn’t talked since that day at the restaurant. The day you’d seen Chris. He’d stayed away, and you knew you would have to be the one to reach out to make things right. You just didn’t care to.

“Shit, maybe I am broken.” You stood, gathered your glass and two of the four empty bottles around you and walked inside. Nex followed you into the kitchen with the remaining items.

“I don’t think he’s decided to opt-out. After everything I’ve come to see over the last few years or interviews, he wants kids, a family. Plus, he doesn’t look like the kind of man who’d opt-out knowing he had a baby in the world. He needs time; he needs some space; it’s a lot you dropped on him. It took you nine months to come to terms with your situation. It wasn’t until they put Ella on your chest that it all really clicked for you. It’s been about two weeks.” She was right; you knew it. This wasn’t the kind of thing one just absorbs in hours. It was a lot, a lifetime worth of responsibility.

“Do you want him involved?”

“This again.”

You closed your eyes again and tried to separate your feelings from what was right and wrong. Carefully and quickly you went through the endless possibilities and outcomes, and though you tried to keep your feelings out of it, they crept in. After a while, you groaned. The ringing of Nexus’ phone broke the silence and saved you from saying the words. Nexus hurried to her bag and rifled through it until she took out the phone. It was almost midnight, and neither of you knew who could be calling.

“Hello?” Her eyes slowly widened, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your belly. Deep down, you knew who it was.

“Shit.”

Nexus walked to you. “Hang on.” She held the phone out to you. You didn’t move; just looked at the phone then to her. She nodded as if to urge you to make a move, but you were frozen. Nexus reached out took your hand and placed the phone in it. You stood there trying to find your voice and your courage. Slowly you raised the device to your ear and released a slow breath.

“Hello?” There was silence for a good minute then you heard him take a deep breath on the other end.

“I want to be involved. I want to be a part of her life.” Tears filled your eyes, and they rolled down your cheeks freely as you nodded as if he could see you. “Are you there?” Clearing your throat and wiping away the tears you nodded again.

“Yeah, I’m here. Okay.” More silence stretched between you. You had no idea what to say; the decision was made. He’d stepped up, opting out was not an option. You felt fear but also a strange mix of relief and happiness.

“So, how do we do this?” You scoffed and laughed. No matter how you tried to stop yourself, you couldn’t manage it, so there you stood leaning against the kitchen island laughing like an idiot. “I have no idea,” you responded. It was his turn to laugh. So that was how a good two minutes were spent, the two of you laughing at the situation and the fact neither of you knew what to do now, or how to do it. slowly your laughter died down, and the silence returned.

“I know you said you don’t know me or some things about my lifestyle and this might be the wrong first move but--.” More silence stretched with his hesitation. Your anxiety rose higher, as did your heart rate. “Can I meet her?” Your heart pounded and melted at the same time. His voice was so small, so unsure and so damn gripping, you wanted to reach out into the phone and place it against his cheek. You groaned and put your head on the island and allowed the cold marble to center you. “It was a stupid idea. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so presumptuous; of course, it’s too soon.”

“No, no, that’s not it. No, you’re not, it’s fine. I’m sorry I just—I’m having a hard time with words or thoughts right now. I’ve been attacked with memories for the last few hours, and it’s taking a toll. I’m sorry. Yeah,” you rushed out without thinking.

“What kind of memories?” With the question you imagined his hands on your body and then his head between your legs. You groaned and shook your head. “Oh, you know, normal stuff.” Somehow you knew he was smiling; you could feel it, and it made you smile as well. “Yeah, I know about normal stuff. It’s hard,” he responded.

“Hard? Does he mean what I think he means? What’s hard? Is he hard? Does he think about what I think about? Does he have dreams like I do? Oh my god!”

Clearing your throat, you tried your best to shake away the thoughts and the butterflies taking flight in the pit of your belly. “So yeah, you uh—you can meet her. I don’t think it’s too soon. It may be long overdue.”

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep or--.” You interrupted his ramble with a smile on your face. “This is new for the both of us, I don’t have a manual or a guide, and I have literally been living the last three years based on what feels right. If it feels right I do it. This—it feels right. It feels like the right move,” you filled in. He was quiet again. You wondered what he was thinking, wondered what he would say if he’d say anything at all.

“Is tomorrow good?

“Jesus he’s really in.”

“Yeah, sure. Tomorrow is fine,” you confirmed while even more butterflies took flight. You tried to keep your thoughts straight, tried to keep everything else at bay. “Um, maybe the restaurant off of Wilshire?”

“Might not be a good idea doing this in public. There’s already been more than enough run-ins with the paps. She’s still freaked from that day,” you explained. “Right, of course. I’m sorry about that by the way,” Chris interjected.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you can’t control it.” He sighed into the phone and you pictured his breath smelling like oranges and mint like it did that last night. You took a deep breath as if you could really smell it—smell him. You couldn’t. This was just a phone conversation, and you were already feeling foolish. “What about my place?” Your stomach knotted, and you softly gasped as you placed your hand over your belly. You wondered if he still lived at the same place. “Do you still live at the same place in the hills?”

“You remember. Yeah, same place.” Your core clenched and you groaned. “Not a good idea. Um, why not here. It’s somewhere she’s comfortable, private away from the press, safe.” Another stretch of silence filled the time. “Safe for her or you?” He saw through you. A disconcerting feeling filled you. It was definitely safe for you. You knew if you went back to his house, you’d be incapacitated with memories and emotions and this wasn’t about you. It was about Ella, him and Ella. “Safe all around. Does that work?” He agreed, and the two of you released a breath in unison then let the silence return. You could hear his breathing, and it was a soothing sound, a sound you liked. You confirmed an adequate time and gave him your address then rushed off the phone and dropped into the couch. Nex tried her best to calm your nerves, but it wasn’t enough. You knew you wouldn’t sleep that night. You felt there was a lot on the line and you had to make sure you were under control by tomorrow.

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@sarahboseman @heyauntieeee @airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24 @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711@geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97 @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@sweettea-and-honeybutter@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld@cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @great-neckpectations @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup

#love maybe fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

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