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eddiesfaerie · 4 years

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Long Sleeves (part 2)

Summary: Pushed to its absolute limits; a retelling of the past 4 months of you and Charlie’s complicated relationship (13.5k words, i dont know what to say other than im so sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, major angst, annoying fluff, mentions of divorce, affairs, age gap (between Charlie and reader, previously implied), nudes, phone sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, some size kink, pain kink(?), rough (and angry and sad) sex, dom and sub themes, spanking, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), i also mention christmas a lot at the beginning which isn't really a warning but i know not everyone celebrates it!

Part 1

A/N: for those of you who are not a fan of d*ddy kink but who may still want to read this; i only use it between the time stamps of Christmas Eve to March, following the March timestamp there will be no mention or use of that word! just thought i’d mention cause the ending is cathartic!

LATE DECEMBER - APARTMENT

With Henry and Nicole staying in LA until after the holidays, Charlie would be alone with you until he left again.

And he didn’t leave your apartment once in the meantime.

Making up for lost time, is what you could call it.

The hours, days, spent in between sheets, on countertops, on couches, in the shower. Like he was trying to mark your apartment with his scent, make sure you never forgot him when he would leave again for LA in a few days.

You would remember him everywhere.

The way your knees bruised on the tile floor of your shower. The welts on your ass from his harsh hand. The bite marks on your shoulders, the bruises littering your neck, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

You would remember him everywhere.

The thousands of ‘good girls’ he praised you with and the thousand and one ‘fucking sluts’ he punished you with. Charlie was coming to know your insides and outs better than you could at this point, it was a certain level of familiarity you were happy with him reaching. He was becoming more and more comfortable around you.

You could tell not just because of the frequent sex, the hard fucking, but because of how he was opening up to you about the divorce. About what was really going on down in LA, what was happening with Henry, what had been happening (or more so, not happening) with Nicole for nearly the past year.

He told you about how she ignored him, refused to have sex with him, even touch him. How he had found solace in a one time affair with their stage director, how he just missed feeling needed, feeling wanted by the only person who was supposed to fulfill that innate human desire.

He told you everything he could think of, every little detail. He was tired of hiding, holding it in.

He realized he would have to tell you when he would get a random call from his lawyer or from Nicole herself, when he would talk to Henry. When he yelled through the phone or hung up crying, slamming his device against the wall, nearly breaking it.

He knew he would have to explain it to you, he owed it to you.

You deserved to know, especially now that he was involving you in this to some degree. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to involve you but he needed you more than he needed anyone else right now. More than he was ready to admit perhaps, just how much he truly needed you.

And that’s why going back to LA would be the hardest thing he’s done all week.

He stood at the door, dressed, suitcase packed, heart lurching, thumping low in his chest with dread, resent, fear, and some feeling he couldn’t fucking name.

Lo-

“I wish you could come.” He says instead, the saddest smile you’ve seen adorning his perfect lips. You smile back, just as sadly. You know there was absolutely no reason for you to go to LA with him, to spend Christmas with Nicole and Henry and whatever extended family would be there as well. It would never happen, never work. At least, not right now. Not like this.

The divorce proceedings were on break till after the holidays, both in and against Charlie’s favour. It meant not giving Henry two Christmases, one last normal one. But it also meant pretending, indulging in that… façade that him and Nicole have been keeping up for too fucking long now.

The deed would be done sometime in February, maybe March, Charlie couldn’t remember. He tried not to think about it too much. Think about losing everything-

“I know. But you’ll enjoy yourself. Henry will be happy.” You remind him, letting him hold you so, so tightly. His vice grip, digging into you, trying to anchor himself to you.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you alone during fucking Christmas.” You laugh.

“I’m going home to see my parents, I won’t be alone, Charlie.” He nods his head, hearing the words you’re saying but he still can’t stop the guilt from creeping up on him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s abandoning you. He won’t abandon you, like everyone’s abandoned him. He just hoped you wouldn’t abandon him either.

Charlie presses his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’ll call you this time, I promise. Every night… I’ll call.”

“Okay.” You giggle, believing him.

His hand sneaks its way up your jaw, gripping your cheeks gently but angling your face for you to meet his dark, dark eyes. You know that look, so familiar now. You feel the pressure start to rise inside you, heat pooling in the very pit of your stomach.

“You’ll be good for me?” You nod immediately, fervently.

“Yes, Charlie.”

“If I ask you to send me pictures, what’ll you do?”

“S-send you pictures.” Breathless, your voice sounds so breathless. Your eyelids threatening to close but you keep them on him, always.

“That’s my good girl.” He growls, tilting your face all the way to his lips, a kiss, a seal of approval. You moan against his lips, letting your eyelids flutter shut, imagining yourself in all those new lingerie sets he’s bought you over the last week.

Your early Christmas presents, he had told you.

“The… the taxis waiting out front.” You say against his lips, not wanting him to leave just yet, but also not wanting him to leave you high and dry before getting on a plane set for across the country for at least another week, probably longer. Charlie ignores you, shoving his tongue down your throat, his grip on your jaw moving down to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, fingers ghosting over bruised skin, enough to make you fall further into his chest, gripping his perfectly ironed shirt, ruining it.

He pulls away all too soon, no doubt doing this to you on purpose. It was 7am and you were already whimpering into his parted lips.

“I-I’ll miss you.” You admit, heart crashing into your ribs.

You hadn’t meant to say it but he was making your brain foggy, your thoughts were jumbled together and you just let it slip past your lips. Charlie stares at you, red lips swollen like petals, cheeks matching, hair perfectly in place with your help nothing but fifteen minutes earlier. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he says anything back to you. The taxi honks outside on the curb.

“I’ll… I’ll miss you more.”

CHRISTMAS EVE - UPSTATE NEW YORK

It was relieving to be away from the city, surrounded by more wilderness, more foliage, more trees, more animals. A literal breath of fresh air that wasn’t tainted by sewage and the ever present scent of smoke coming from somewhere or someone.

You loved coming up here. Escaping. You hadn’t been back home since last Christmas. You moved away when you were quite young, the relationship you had with your parents was complicated, clashing personalities, it was difficult to understand each other when you were younger but there was clarity that came with age. They finally respected you, and you finally respected them as well, understanding them better.

You think spending so much time with Charlie and Henry gave you an insight into parenthood that you had never been privy too beforehand. You were thankful for that, not only did you appreciate your parents more, but now parenthood had many more benefits that you had never considered before. Magical, rewarding, fulfilling.

Charlie kind of made you feel that way too.

It was still awkward at times with your parents, that was unavoidable. No siblings around meant all eyes were on you. They were asking for too many details, prying too deep and you just never felt comfortable indulging in yourself this much. But you always came prepared, it was the holidays after all, things always got weird.

After Christmas Eve dinner, your parents invited you out on a walk with them around their little town. They did this every night apparently, just walking together, talking. It was cute, endearing. You declined their offer, however. Thankfully you weren’t sixteen anymore, and your parents didn’t press you any further to come along with them like they used to.

They’d be back in thirty minutes.

That gave you thirty minutes to call Charlie. Just as he instructed.

Earlier this evening, as your parents were beginning to prepare dinner, Charlie’s family was just finishing lunch out in California. A perfect time for a perfect distraction, or intrusion.

You had packed a few sets of the new lingerie Charlie had bought you, not knowing what he would want to see on you or how often you should switch it up. You nearly brought all of them but didn’t want to take up too much space in your luggage and be suspicious.

You put one on that you thought Charlie was particularly fond of, a skimpy little number that revealed more skin than hid, it’s colour complimenting your skin like it was made for you, made to hug your figure in all the right places. You forgot that Charlie had such a visual mind sometimes, he knew exactly what you would look good in.

Nervous and a bit shaky, you tucked yourself away into your childhood bedroom to take your pictures for Charlie. You felt like a teenager again.

Charlie was not pleased with the timing of your pictures, seeing as he was surrounded by family and innocently looked at his phone only to get a glimpse of your beautiful fucking body, all the blood going from his head straight to his cock. He nearly fainted. His cheeks lit up like Nicole’s Christmas tree and he stumbled from his chair. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be more occupied with paying attention to Henry than to notice him sprint to the bathroom to scold you over text.

That was hours ago. Charlie had told you to call him exactly at 11pm eastern time. That was only 8pm where he was but he said it worked out perfectly so you didn’t argue. You just waited patiently on your bed, number dialed on your phone and ready to call, all the clock head to do was strike eleven.

Finally, the clocks ding around the house, your thumb flies across your screen and you hold the phone up to your ear, worrying the flesh of your lip between your teeth. It rings once, twice, three times before you can hear his breath on the other end. It already sounds heavy.

“H-hi Charlie.”

“What are you wearing.” His voice is strained, maybe he’s already holding himself in his hand.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” You twist your fingers together nervously. Charlie grunts on the other end, a frustrated sound.

“I f-fucking told you, no pleasantries. I-it’ll only make us miss each other more-” You stayed quiet. You knew he was right, but you already missed him so much and hearing his voice was making it worse. You felt your lip tremble, you missed his arms, his warmth, his-

“Are you fucking pouting right now?” His voice was firm, sturdy, and annoyed.

“No, Charlie.” A lie.

“Good, now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing your favourite, the one from earlier. I’m barely covered.”

“Oh I know baby, your tits looked so fhuuuucking good in those pictures you sent me.” The fluctuation in his voice was rising and falling randomly, you could picture his hand wrapped tightly around his angry cock, the head flushed red, precum dribbling out the top, just begging to be licked. He tasted so good…

“A-are you touching yourself?”

“No, you didn’t tell me to.”

“G-good girl, you’re so fucking good to me, you know that?” You pictured his chest, the way he flushes right in the center, between his pecs. The way the red splotches climb up, up, up his neck and onto his cheeks and up to the peaks of his ears. You thought about the heavy rise and fall of his chest as well, how fucking wide he is, how much bigger than you he is. You audibly moaned.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Y-you.”

“Be specific- fuck.”

“Um, your- your cock. How big it is, how big you are. How it feels when you stretch me out, when you go so deep I feel you in my stomach-”

“Keep going baby, I’m… I’m so f-UHcking close.”

“I think about the first time, a-a lot. How it felt the first time you split me open- fuck Charlie you’re so big I never think you’re going to fit but I always take it, I-”

“Yeah, yeah you always take me like the good little girl you are, such a good fucking slut for me, taking my cock in that tight fucking pussy.” He sneers, you can tell he’s talking from behind clenched teeth and you moan again, loudly. Your brain short circuits, what comes out next, comes from the deepest part of you.

“Oh Daddy,-”

“What did you just call me?”

Fuck.

You hadn’t really meant to say it, you were just so caught up in the moment, the feeling, the sound of him that you completely lost your inhibitions and let it slip out. You expected him to just end the call now.

“Charlie I’m so sorry-” He cuts you off with a firm call of your name.

“I asked you a question. What… did you call me?” Your stomach flips and your insides threaten to spill past your lips and onto your floor.

“Daddy.” You say so quietly you’re not sure he even heard you.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Daddy.” Frustration laces your voice as you project the word throughout the entire upper floor of the house. He definitely hears it that time. You think you hear Charlie moan on the other end but you don’t want to be too hopeful.

“You wanna call me Daddy? Hmm? You want me to be your fucking Daddy, is that it?”

“N-no…” You’re not sure what he’s getting at, but you feel like he’s just going to torment you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you little slut.” His breathing picks up again, his voice booming, heavy breaths between every few words. You can hear the slick of his hand as it moves quickly over his length.

“Yes! Yes I- I want you to…”

“Say it.”

“I want you to be my Daddy.” Charlie moans loudly again, his hand somehow moving faster. You can tell he’s close. You can’t believe he likes this. You love it.

“Yeah, I’ll be your fucking Daddy. You better fucking call me that non stop when I get back to you, my sweet little girl.” You moan this time, squeezing your thighs together, feeling your arousal trail slightly down onto your thigh. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized you’d completely soaked through your underwear.

“I will, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I’m-”

Confidence surged you. You still couldn’t believe he liked this but you finally gave in, feeding his desires. When you spoke, your voice was filled with something wicked, sickeningly sweet and most of all, evil.

“Are you going to cum for me, Daddy? Make a mess for me?”

You felt like you hadn’t even finished your sentence before a loud moan punched through your phone and into your ear. You moaned as well just from his release, feeling it in your mind and in your chest, squeezing your thighs again for any sort of friction. Charlie continued to moan through his release, you pictured his silky cum painting his taut abdomen and his beautiful chest. You imagined it blending in with his moles and freckles, you pictured yourself rubbing your hands through it, massaging it into his skin before licking it all up.

He wouldn’t even have to ask, you would just do it.

“Y-you’re fucking perfect… you fucking angel.” He’s so breathless, completely spent and wasted from your voice alone. You felt so hot. You needed to relieve yourself but you didn’t know if you should ask for permission or not. Before you could even debate it, Charlie spoke again.

“Go to bed, wouldn’t want Santa catching you up like this.” You laughed softly at his comment. Static on the other end. He said your name as if to check if you were still there.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

The line went dead.

JANUARY - BROOKLYN

You had sent Charlie pictures nearly every night after that. And you two called each other every other night as well.

He asked it of you and you couldn’t say no to your Charlie. It was a bit tricky while you were still staying with your parents, he would simply text you and you would have to scurry off to your room or the bathroom and snap as many flattering pictures of yourself as you could. You tried to make it seem less suspicious by drinking tons of water and just blaming it on your bladder.

But the new year had finally come, and you were now back home in your apartment. Charlie would be returning tonight and you were counting down the hours until you saw his taxi pull up on the curb side. You distracted yourself until then.

At around 7pm, you got an unexpected call from Charlie.

“Hi.” You felt like your smile was audible through the phone.

“Hey,” Charlie chuckled darkly, his voice always sounding deeper and richer through the receiver. “I just got in. I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Us? He didn’t mean….

“It’s just me and Henry, Nicole’s uh, staying in LA until further notice. If you’re busy or if you can’t that’s-”

“I would love to,” The fact that Charlie would ask you to spend dinner with him and Henry warmed your heart beyond comprehension. Your weeks of loneliness suddenly dissolving into the background and becoming nothing more than a distant memory, a distant feeling. “but is Henry okay with it?”

“Of course he’s okay with it. He’s actually been talking about you quite a bit. I think he might have missed you more than I did,” Charlie choked a bit on his last words, “not that I didn’t miss you, I just meant that he, you know, Henry was-”

“It’s okay, Charlie I understood what you meant.” You giggle, finding his slight awkwardness endearing. How was it that you both were having incredible phone sex for the past two weeks and now you both sounded like teenagers calling their crush?

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Charlie groans at your suggestive tone.

“Don’t start now.” His voice stern, unwavering. You laugh again, more mischievous this time. You test the waters, not stepping in enough to drown... just yet.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes, is that okay, Daddy?” You hear rustling on the other end of the phone and then Charlie cursing a low ‘fuck!’. You think you hear Henry’s voice too, followed by more of Charlie’s now muffled voice.

“Ten minutes is fine.”

Henry had bombarded you at the door, he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs and hugged himself tightly to you. It took everything in you not to cry, you knelt down so you could hug him back.

“I missed you.” He dug his cheek into your shoulder. This kid was the sweetest, he would melt your heart every time.

“I missed you too, Henry. How was LA? How was Christmas? Tell me everything!”

Henry grabbed your hand and dragged you into the living room where all his new toys were laid out, ready for him to play with. As he was pulling you there, Charlie emerged from around the doorway like an angel himself. Your eyes met and you felt as if you were moving in slow motion, and not being dragged at top speed by his child.

“Hi.” You greet, almost shyly. Unsure of how to act around him with Henry present.

“Hi.” Charlie repeats, grabbing your free hand for the briefest moment, giving it a tight squeeze until it's pulled out of his grasp by Henry.

You’re not sure how long you spent playing on the floor with Henry, him retelling you the events of the last two or three weeks while Charlie sat on the couch, glancing at the two of you every now and then. You tried not to think about the position you were in, kneeling on the floor, carpet digging into your knees, Charlie sitting tall above you on the couch, looking down at you from between his parted knees. It looked like such a natural position for him, almost like he was too comfortable like this, too familiar with it. You wanted to-

The doorbell rang, making both you and Henry jump from the sharp noise.

“Henry would you like to go pay the pizza guy?” Charlie asked, already pulling his wallet from the pocket in his pants.

“Yes!” Henry shouted, jumping up from the carpet, whisking the crisp bills from his dad’s hands and running to the door to answer it. Charlie figured he had a minute or less before Henry came back.

He lifted himself from the couch, taking your jaw into his hand and bringing you to stand with him. He crashed his lips into yours, violently shoving his tongue down your throat and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to spill through your lips and into his awaiting mouth. His hands had a deadly grip on your waist and on your jaw, you only wished he would ease up because you didn’t want Henry to wonder why you both looked so flustered.

“I can’t wait until tonight.” He said against your lips, his hand on your jaw moving to trail down your throat.

“W-what’s tonight?”

“I got it!” Henry came rushing back into the living room but not before Charlie pushed himself away from you and let go of your throat and waist. It looked like nothing had happened.

“Let’s go set it up in the dining room.” Henry stomped his foot in retaliation, whining slightly.

“Nooo, Dad, can we please watch a movie with pizza?”

“Henry, we have a guest-”

“Please!”

“What movie do you want to watch?” You asked, budding in, trying to stop a tantrum in its tracks. Henry’s eyes lit up and he glanced between you and his dad.

“Have you ever seen ‘Frozen’?” You actually had, but he didn’t need to know that. You gasped.

“I haven’t!” You glanced over at Charlie. His eyes were dark but an innocent smirk pulled at his lips.

He was thinking about how this just meant it would take longer before he could finally fuck you again, a two hour movie cockblock. It had been over two weeks since he had felt your body against his, nothing to satiate him but the sound of your voice and some mediocre photos. Charlie thinks he should show you how to take some really good ones sometime soon. Not that yours didn’t most definitely do the trick, he just thinks he likes the idea of directing you, positioning you...

But Charlie was also thinking about how he found it very sweet, very heartwarming to watch you bond with Henry. He loved watching you have such a good time with him and treat him like a person, not just a child. And he could tell that Henry really liked spending time with you too. Not just from how much he talked about you when you weren’t around, but the smile that lit up his face when you came over or when he went over to your place.

It was getting harder and harder to get Henry to smile like that.

You all sat down on the couch, little wooden fold up tables in front of your seat to hold your plate of pizza slices. Henry sitting between you and Charlie, of course.

Henry sang along passionately to almost every song, sometimes with bites of pizza in his mouth and Charlie would scold him for it, afraid he would choke but Henry ignored his dad’s requests, just continuing to belt out along with the characters on screen.

As the movie progressed and neared the end, you could feel Charlie getting more and more sleepy on his side of the couch. He would rearrange his sitting position every now and then and his eyes would close for minutes at a time. He looked so soft with his arms folded across his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, his lips coming to rest in the softest little pout. You nudge Henry gently and he turns to look up at you.

“Looks like your dad’s asleep.” You giggle, pointing to Charlie. Henry immediately jumps on him, startling Charlie awake.

“Dad I can’t believe you fell asleep again!” Henry pouts, grabbing Charlie’s face between his hands and shaking him from side to side. Charlie grabs his son’s little hands to stop his efforts, sitting himself up straighter on the couch and hugging Henry to his chest.

“Mmm’wasn’t sleeping.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go get your daddy a blanket so he can get comfy for the rest of the movie.” You wink at Henry, sending him searching upstairs for the perfect blanket for his dad.

Charlie groans and drops his head on the back of the couch, his hand draping across is as well, coming to rest on the very tip of your shoulder. He wraps his fingers along your muscles, squeezing the flesh into his palm, tightly.

“I heard that.”

“Heard what?” Daddy.

His head lifts from the couch to glare at you, his stare deadly, shooting right to the deepest parts of you. Why were you teasing him like this?

“Dad is the dinosaur one okay?” Henry calls from up the stairs, slowly making his way down and back to the couch.

“It’s perfect, Henry. Thank you.” Charlie takes the blanket from Henry and kisses the top of his forehead before he settles back on the couch, cuddling up next to his dad.

You unpause the movie, admiring the two of them every now and then, watching Henry becoming more and more sleepy as the film nears its end. As the credits roll, Charlie removes the blanket from around himself and moves it to wrap around Henry.

“I’m going to go tuck him in.” Charlie whispers to you. You nod sweetly at the two of them. Charlie carries Henry in his arms towards the stairs before Henry grumbles, calling out your name to you back on the couch.

“Will you come too?”

You look to Charlie for guidance, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries. You’ve never been in the upstairs part of their apartment, you’ve never seen the rest of their place, Henry’s room, Charlie’s room, their bathroom. You’d never seen any of it and it all felt incredibly intimate and incredibly wrong in some way. You didn’t want to accidentally see something you shouldn’t. But Charlie just smiles back at you and nods his head gently.

“Of course, Henry.” You follow them up the stairs, smiling at Henry who smiles that shiny little kid smile at you before laying his head back down on Charlie’s shoulder, resting his eyes again.

Henry’s bedroom is exactly like you imagined it would be. Colourful blue walls, vibrant comic book patterned bed sheets, toys absolutely everywhere yet Charlie avoids them like their place on the floor has meaning, like he’s ingrained it into his mind from stepping on them too many times, muscle memory. You stay in the doorway, leaning on the door frame watching them, not wanting to intrude.

Charlie carefully lowers Henry onto his bed, tucking him in the covers and kissing his forehead. He says sweet words to his son, lulling him further to sleep and Henry smiles dopily back at him, whispering a quiet ‘love you, dad.’

Charlie turns around to face you, he flicks his head in the direction of the stairway mouthing the word ‘go’ to you, you nod and head down the stairs, waiting for him in the living room. You decide to settle yourself at the foot of the couch, sitting on your knees, feeling the burn of the carpet again and waiting for your Charlie.

He descends the stairs slowly, achingly slowly. Making you wait for it, making you feel the weight in his steps, his foot pressing into the wood, applying his weight until he shifts down another step before finally, finally, making his way to you.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, you try not to let your mouth hang open as you gaze up at him, this beautiful man. Sometimes, when you look at him, you wonder if whatever god or gods were out there made him like this on purpose. Sent him here looking the way he does to taunt you, to test you. Test your strength, your will to defy him when you know there is no humanly way possible to deny this man of what he wants. And what he wants is you. Why would you say no? How could you?

After observing you on the floor below him, Charlie seats himself down on the couch like before, knees spread, looking down at you. You scoot closer to him, hoping he doesn’t tell you to stop. His hand comes to rest on his knee before he pats it.

“Lay your head down on me.” His voice rumbles in his chest. You think you feel it through the floorboards, through your knees, up your spine and in the pit of your stomach. You listen and scoot closer, resting your head on his bony knee, nuzzling it with your cheek and looking up at him through thick lashes. You continue looking at him as you press a tender kiss as well, just for fun.

The lights are dim in the living room, the time ticking closer to midnight, Henry asleep upstairs. You both had to be quiet, you both knew this. Charlie’s hand comes to brush against your cheekbone, he trails his index finger all along the valleys of your face and then moving into your hair, gripping the back of it into a fist before relaxing again, bringing his hand back to hold your cheek.

“I’ve missed this.” He says so quietly. You nod, biting your lip.

“Me too.” You say, eagerness beginning to fill your voice. You adjust your position, coming to lean further into him, closer to his crotch where you can tell he needs you. Charlie hums contentedly.

“Mhmmm. Tell me what exactly you missed. Who you missed.” You let your hand glide over his knee, over his muscular thigh and towards his crotch, feather light touches along the fabric of his pants. You could feel how hard he was, it seemed painful.

“You. I missed your cock too... Daddy.”

There it was. He found what he was looking for. His hand found its way into a fist again in your hair, tugging it tightly, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed your lips over his covered cock, straining in his pants.

“You can do better than that,” he groaned, voice almost as strained as his cock yet still so forceful, “show Daddy how much you really missed him.”

You whimper at his tone, your voices both so hushed, rasped and desperate, spurring each other on much quicker than usual. Your hands, shaky with desire, reached up for his belt, grasping the cold metal into your hands and unbuckling it as quickly as you could. Only when you got to his zipper, did Charlie stop you with a light tap to your cheek.

“Teeth.” He scolded. You nodded.

You brought the zipper in between your teeth, biting down on the tiny piece of metal and slowly dragging it down over the hill his cock was creating in his pants. The heat radiating from his body was palpable, you could feel it coming onto your face the lower you dragged the zipper and the more he was revealed to you. You could also smell him, that smell that was undeniably Charlie; musky, earthy, a hit of fabric detergent and just the natural smell of his skin, like almonds in the summer. It made you dizzy, drunk off of him already.

You hadn’t even gotten him in your mouth yet.

You nuzzled your face into his clothed crotch, feeling his hard member pressing into your cheek, you could feel it pulsing, you could feel him wanting, waiting for the moment your mouth would take his length as far back as you could. You whimpered at the thought.

“You like it? You like my cock?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Then show me with that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” He sneered, pulling harder on your hair. You hummed and smiled, you felt giddy, maybe you really were drunk. You nuzzled your face into his crotch one more time before bringing both of your hands up to his waist, letting your fingertips dance around his beautiful skin that lay revealed to you above the waistband, you lean up, up, up pressing the softest, delicatest kisses to his skin.

Charlie groaned, pressing on the back of your head, pushing your face further into his tummy. You left more and more kisses before you gave him a tentative bite, not letting your teeth sink in too much before you lave your tongue over the abused flesh.

“Fuck that feels- fucking good.” Charlie moaned, looking down at the new mark that would only darken itself by tomorrow as more blood rushes to the affected area. It was placed beautifully next to his hip bone. You think it looked pretty. So did he.

You finally let your fingertips dip into his waistband but not before latching your teeth onto the stretchy fabric as well, aiding your fingers in removing them. You dragged it down, down, down his skin, just until his cock sprang free and laid heavy on his lower stomach. Charlie hissed, his hips bucking slightly from the sudden freedom.

He has the prettiest cock you think you’d ever seen. You never get used to seeing it, taking it in your mouth or your cunt. The stretch is always so painfully good, you’ve come to crave it. And going without it for the past however many weeks has made you near delirious for it. You stick your tongue out and run it all along the underside right to the very tip, where a shiny, pearly bead of precum has just begun to spill over. You hum as you lick it up, eyes nearly rolling back into your head.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” Charlie grits from behind clenched teeth. You look up at him innocently, you notice that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw like clockwork, his eyes look glassy and his cheeks are a few shades darker. He already looks so disheveled, so perfect like this.

“I can’t help it… it’s so pretty.”

“You think Daddy has a pretty cock?” You nod your head, humming, which you can’t seem to stop doing tonight, he just has you feeling so content, so safe. You don't think you could be like this with anyone else. You trace your fingers along his length, watching it bob from the slightest of touches, even Charlie tries to bite back his groans.

“Can-can I kiss it?”

“Please.” You lower your head towards his length, pressing your lips so softly onto his red angry head, giving little kitten licks in between kisses which has Charlie gripping your hair like a vice, afraid you’ll float away. You like the way his stomach flexes in response to your touch, like his body is bracing himself for the tidal wave of pleasure that’s bound to hit at any moment.

You finally take the spongy pink head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before letting a few inches fall past your lips as well. Charlie’s tummy flexes even more, the v shaped muscle becoming more and more prominent and you moan onto his cock. His free hand that had been clenched into a fist comes to hold one side of your head and the other comes to meet it. He holds your head in his hands and forces you to take more of him, but not all of it just yet. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, his hands helping you find his ideal speed.

“Fuck yes, oh my god, j-just like that-” Charlie moans your name, his fingernails digging into your scalp making you moan on his cock again, only making him dig deeper, pressing your head further down his length, forcing you to take him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Gonna let Daddy f-fuck that pretty little whore mouth of yours?” You let your jaw go slack more than it already has and do your best to nod with his cock half way down your throat, tears already beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes. Charlie starts lifting his hips off the couch slightly, all the while moving your head further up and down his cock, forcing it down your throat as far as it’ll go without you making obscenely loud gagging noises.

His son was asleep right upstairs, after all.

You let your eyes roll back into your head, letting Charlie take control and just fuck his cock into your mouth like you know he needs to, like he knows you need it too. It’s been too fucking long. Too fucking long since he’s had you like this. At his disposal, his little plaything to do whatever he pleases with. And you fucking love it.

The cool, sharp metal of his unzipped zipper digs into your jaw and occasionally your neck, biting into your skin and scratching your skin when Charlie lifts his hips up particularly high but you don’t care. In fact, you welcome the pain, embracing it as a mark of Charlie’s rough loving. You hope it draws blood.

“Fuck, your mouth i-is so fucking perfect, so warm... I don’t-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, his eyes screw shut and you can feel his cock growing impossibly harder. He looks down at you, his face twisted in absolute pleasure as he loses himself in your tight little mouth. He pulls you off his cock with all of his strength. A trail of saliva connecting your spit swollen lips to the head of his cock. You start pumping him quickly with your fist.

“No-no wait I don’t…”

“I want it Charlie, please,” Charlie throws his head back, moaning your name, “cum in my mouth... please.”

You nearly whine that last part. Charlie grabs your hair and tugs it, shaking your head a bit.

“I want to fuck you, I don’t wanna cum yet- FUCK!” You hadn’t stopped your hand movements, your fist moving faster over his cock while he fights his release.

“You can fuck me tomorrow.” You say quickly before attaching your lips around the head of his cock, sucking on it until you feel his thighs, abdomen, hands, mind and soul tense up before he bites back his guttural moans, letting them rumble through his chest like thunder passing, before spilling himself onto your tongue. You moan as it lands, letting it slide down your throat as you taste him, taste all of him until he’s completely drained.

You look up at him through heavy lashes, coated thick in tears that have streamed down your cheeks. Chest heaving, abdomen pulled taught, cheeks incredibly flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy and tired. Completely spent. He looked so beautiful, your Charlie. So beautiful like this.

“S-show me.” His hand reaches for your jaw, pinching your cheeks to force your jaw and mouth open. You stick your tongue to show him. All gone, you swallowed all of his cum, for him.

“Good girl.” He whispered, patting your cheek affectionately. You smiled sweetly at him, coming up with your hands resting your weight on his thighs, pressing your swollen lips to his. As you extend your knees to stand, you feel the ache in the joints, the bruises already present, no doubt. You loved the pain. Your lips glide effortlessly across each other, so tired, so worn out but always wanting.

“Stay, please.” He says against your lips. You shake your head, no. It was a simple answer. A simple predicament.

“Henry.”

You pull back to look into Charlie’s eyes, he pulls you into his lap and he winces as you apply just a bit too much weight onto the base of his cock. You look into his eyes, already so sad at the idea of you leaving. But Henry would ask too many questions in the morning.

Why is the nice lady from next door still here, Dad?

Did she stay the night, Dad?

Did she sleep in your bed, Dad?

You and Mom’s bed, Dad?

“I know, I know.” Charlie says, defeated. He presses you into his chest, hugging you to him tightly, tighter than you were expecting. It was a hopeful thought. He understood why it couldn’t happen, couldn’t work. Maybe he just wanted you to entertain the idea for a minute with him. Maybe it would happen one day.

“I really did miss you.” He whispers into your hair, cradling the back of your head with his large, warm hand, pressing you further into the nook of his neck.

“I did too. I really missed you too, Charlie.”

MARCH - BROOKLYN

Charlie was currently back from his third visit to Los Angeles, hunting burroughs for the perfect new home for himself and for Henry. Maybe for you as well, but Charlie didn’t like to dwell on that for too long, he couldn’t allow himself such hopeful thoughts, he would only be let down.

Would you really want to move in with him? Was that moving too quickly? Would you think he was insane? Crazy? Obsessed? The truth was, he is all of those things; insane, crazy, obsessed with you. He couldn’t help it, no. Not when it came to you.

He would always be desperate for your affection, your attention.

Things were escalating with the divroce. Nicole and Charlie had turned bitter, viscous, backstabbing, conniving. Both fighting for a child who has no intention of hurting anyone, certainly not his mother or father.

Henry had no idea what weight his actions or words held, no idea what it meant when someone came over to observe him and his dad, or him and his mom. When they sent someone out to New York to watch him there, sometimes you would be over too. They asked you so many questions, he didn’t understand why. Why were strangers suddenly so involved in every little thing his parents did? Were they in trouble? Were they bad people? Was he a bad kid? Did they hate him?

Henry pouts as you hold his hand, walking up the driveway to the new apartment Charlie was almost one hundred percent decided on renting. It was in more of a family oriented neighbourhood, still close to his school. Somehow, it had a decent sized backyard (which you had never heard of in New York, even Brooklyn), three bedrooms, an office, a beautiful kitchen, it was basically perfect in Charlie’s eyes.

The first time he visited it back in February, he sent you dozens of pictures and little videos when he had gone alone. He quickly booked another appointment for you to go and look at him with it so he could get your opinion. He made it very clear how important your opinion was to him on this matter, he was always asking you questions about the apartment, even bringing it up randomly. He would scroll through the pictures he had taken, scrutinizing every detail and ask you about it.

Do you think the backyard is big enough?

What if I end up getting Henry a dog? Would there be enough space for that?

Do you really like the kitchen? Be honest.

What about the office room? Do I really need that? Is that too much?

What about the guest bedroom?

You wonder if he was so invested in your opinion because he trusted you, or because he wanted you to move in with them. Neither of you had ever spoken about it before, never had that conversation. And even if you did, Henry would always have the final say. If he didn’t want you living with them, well, that was that. You couldn’t argue with Henry, not when his childhood and upbringing was in question. Especially after this divorce. Charlie would do anything for him. Even if it meant risking you.

Charlie ended up getting the house he had been eyeing for nearly a month.

Him and Henry would restart here, no painful memories embedded in the walls, in the flooring, in the holes in the walls, the slammed door frames, the windows that threatened to shatter from all the screaming and crying. None of that was here, it would never be here. None of that would happen again.

Charlie hadn’t asked you to move in.

And you hadn’t necessarily been waiting on him asking either.

You were already coming over pretty frequently. And not just on account of Charlie, Henry still loved seeing you and hanging out with you. You still babysat him when things at the theatre ran late.

When Nicole moved to LA, Charlie was thrown full force into his work. Forced to recast, rework, and rewrite so many things that she had just left hanging. You watched Henry those nights, stayed until Charlie got home and then took the subway back to your place, next to their now vacant apartment.

You were so lonely those nights you couldn’t sleepover at Charlie’s. You missed his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how much comfort you got knowing he was just next door, just beyond a thick wall. You could have touched it and felt his presence radiating through. But now, nothing. It was cold, dark, empty, meaningless.

And because Charlie had been so overworked for the past few months, the stress was starting to get to him. The constant obstacles and backtracking in the theatre production. The random calls from Nicole, his lawyer, the random flights down to LA, the weeks Henry spent away from him, the nights he lost himself in you, using you as an outlet. You let him, you liked it when he took it out on you, you liked how rough he would get, all that pent up anger being pounded out into your hot cunt. You loved it. Loved when he got mad, frustrated. You were always there for him. You would always be there for him, you hoped he knew that.

But what you didn’t love, was when he started neglecting you.

He would go days sometimes without calling you, so much as even texting you. You would get no word from him for a couple of days and sometimes you would just randomly piece together that he was in LA and he just forgot to tell you. You tried to not let it upset you, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through, the stress of the divorce, the potential of losing Henry, his whole life hanging by a thread. It really wasn’t his fault that he just forgot to mention it to you.

Sometimes he would lash out at you, a small comment or action rubbing him the wrong way and he would erupt, say something he didn’t mean or just walk out on you. Times when things go heated, you tried your best to keep you composure for his sake. He didn’t need you being upset at him too on top of everything else, so you kept it in, for Charlie.

Sometimes he would lash out before you two went out with his theatre friends. He would smile and hug everyone, but kept somewhat of a distance from you. Barely speaking to you, barely including you in the conversation unless someone else asked you a question or directly addressed you. What did you look like to them? Friends? Friends with benefits? Did you look like his whore? The babysitter that he was secretly fucking?

You kind of were.

You drank a lot that night. He fucked you when you got back to his new place. He fell asleep quickly after. You pulled on your long sleeve shirt and nice dress pants that you had been wearing that night after laying next to his warm, sleeping body for thirty minutes, debating, thinking, worrying, dying inside.

You stood up and walked to the door, you looked back to find him watching you. You nervously tugged at your sleeves, staring back at him until he turned around, pushing his face into the pillow, as if silently willing you to leave. You left. You called a taxi and left. You didn’t sleep that night.

You think it was because he told you he was going to Los Angeles again.

Maybe he mentioned Nicole? His lawyer? Something about Henry? The theatre?

You couldn’t remember what started all of this yelling, smashing. You were over at the new place, helping Charlie organize some things for Henry before he came back with him the next time he went out to LA again, which was in a few days.

Charlie was pissed and this time, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold your calm resolve for him.

“Charlie if you just need some space from me tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings, I understand.” You decide to try and change the subject, maybe just cutting to the chase. Offering him what you think he wants, alone time. Time away from you, from everything. There’s no way he doesn’t need a break.

You hated how quickly you would give everything up for him. You would do anything for him, anything he asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, eyes squinting in confusion. You sigh, running a hand down your face, your patience was running thin and you didn’t want to accidentally set him off.

“Everytime you see me you manage to get frustrated or mad about something. I just don’t want to give you more problems than you already have. I know you’ve been really stressed.”

“Elaborate, please.” His voice was clipped as he put his hands on his hips, stopping what he was doing and turning to you, seemingly giving you more attention than he had in weeks. You huff, not sure how to explain this to him.

“Charlie I-”

“No, what the fuck are you trying to say? That if I fucking ended things you would just leave? No questions asked?” His voice boomed, echoing off the newly painted walls, shaking the frames of yours and Henry’s dinosaur paintings from all those months ago.

He takes a step closer to you, you take one back, then another just for good measure. Your back hits the wall and you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you can with him staring at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. They still managed to twinkle even when he was angry.

“I- I would… for Henry. You put Henry first, I put Henry first. If he wanted me gone-”

“He doesn’t fucking want you gone, you know that.” Charlie scoffed, walking closer to you, his face red in frustration, maybe anger. He says your name, it's never sounded so sad.

“Why are you lying to me?” He’s a step away from you now, chest heaving with laboured breaths. He’s trying to compose himself, you can tell. Trying to stay calm but his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m not, I w-wouldn’t lie to you, Charlie.”

“You would leave me?” You nod your head, lip trembling, tears burning, stinging in your eyes, your breathing becoming heavy too. Was this it?

“If that’s what you wanted, if you want me to leave I would.”

“Why? Why would you do something so fucking stupid?” His lip is also trembling, you feel like he’s about to spit in your face, yell at you for being such an idiotic little girl. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, this was so fucked. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like when he got frustrated, you resented the fact that you did.

You couldn’t think straight, the words leaving your mouth didn’t feel your own, like you were speaking some other language, possessed by a foreign being.

“Be-because…” Bile rising in your throat, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Fucking why? Tell me why!” He was yelling, his face in yours and his voice breaking.

“Because I… because I love-”

And then Charlie was kissing you.

Charlie was kissing you.

His tongue swiped into your mouth like he was trying to strangle you with it. His hands came to your cheeks and pressed your body flush against his and the wall, sandwiched between the two. He was hard, you could feel his cock pressing into your stomach as he rolled his hips into you, you moaned into his mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away.

“Don’t say it… don’t- fucking say it.” He said against your lips, voice so hush, so quiet and scared.

“Why? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not fucking afraid of you.” He says, confused, angry, lips rough on your own. He keeps trying to kiss you, you don’t want to push him away but you try, you push on his tough chest, his heart beating wildly in its cage.

“Yes you are. You keep pushing me away.” You cry, hiccupping on a ragged sob that leaves your chest, as you ironically try to push him away from you. Charlie tries to kiss you through it, trying to suffocate you.

“I’m not.” He fights.

“You are.”

“I’m not-” You push, harder this time. He stumbles back, lips already swollen, his eyes are wet, glossy too. Like yours.

“You are!” You yell, voice breaking, choking on your tears. “Don’t act like you haven’t been treating me differently for the past month.”

When Charlie says nothing, you continue.

“You don’t call me, you don’t text me, I only come over to babysit Henry when he’s here and when he’s in LA you just fuck me and then get mad about something and leave. When we go out you don’t look at me, you don’t touch me-” Your voice falters, you’re not sure you can go on with the way the sobs wrack through your chest and into the rest of your body. You feel weak, like you might collapse into the ground. You wish you would, you wish the floor would just swallow you up and you could disappear.

Charlie sees red. His fists shake, clenched into fists at his side after you’ve pushed him away. His palms burn to touch you. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should listen to what you’re saying, let you talk, remind him how much he’s been hurting you. He knows what he’s doing, he’s not stupid.

He wasn’t trying to push you away, he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose. But he was sabotaging himself, sabotaging everything because he felt he didn’t deserve you. He was a bad father, a selfish person for wanting to take Henry away from his mother, for wanting Henry to himself, a bad person for hating Nicole, a woman he once loved.

Love.

It was all because of love wasn’t it? Charlie wants to laugh at the thought. Wants to laugh and scream and yell and hit something at the thought of stupid fucking love. Was he really becoming that nihilistic already?

Would he come to hate you like how he hates Nicole? Would you come to hate him the way he hates himself? The way Henry probably hates him? The way his parents hated him-

His knees hit a hard surface, blistering, blinding pain shooting up his legs. He’s collapsed onto the floor before he’s even aware of it. Unaware of the sobs that push and pull at his lungs, forcing his chest to heave in the oxygen before choking it back out along with spit and tears.

He’s crying. You’re crying. Fuck, how did it come to this. This was all too familiar. He feels numb.

How could he love you when love was the scariest thing? When love was the most frightening emotion he had ever experienced. Everything that’s happened to him for the past two fucking years was because of love. Love would ruin everything. It always did. But he couldn’t…. he couldn’t lose-

“Y-you… you can’t- leave me.” He chokes, hands planted shakily on the floor, holding his upper body up, his arms weak.

You… you’ve never seen Charlie like this. And honestly? It scares you. Sure, you’ve heard him yell, scream, cry at Nicole, his lawyer over the phone. But this was different. This was visceral, burning desire, regret, shame, embarrassment… this was everything coming crashing down around him at once.

Fuck.

This is what you’ve been trying to avoid over the past month. That’s why you’ve tiptoed around him, letting him get angry, letting him yell, letting him ignore you, use you, fuck you and ask for nothing in return. You were avoiding this.

But maybe you had just prolonged the explosion? Let enough gas build up before it eventually burst into flames.

Eventually…

You had definitely made this worse, by ignoring it you’ve let it fester, let it rise and rise and rise, just pushing down the lid for your own sake. Maybe it was both of your own faults? You don’t know, you don’t care. This was bound to happen at some point. And it just so happened to be today. All you really care about is Charlie.

You kneel down on the floor in front of him, resting your palm on the floor like he has, letting your pinky finger graze against his. The slightest of touch as to not scare him off. He flinches, his head still hung low, eyes screwed shut.

You place your hand on top of his, feeling his burning skin, testing the waters. He doesn’t pull back so you continue your efforts. You intertwine your fingers with his, slowly, slowly lifting his hand up off the ground and closer to you. He still doesn’t look up. You keep moving his hand until it’s on your chest, covering your left breast. Only then does he look up, searching your eyes.

He feels it then. That same thing he felt the first time… the first time he had you. Your beating heart, pumping wildly in your chest just like his was. Did you know? Did you know what you did to him? Did you know how much he needed you, how much he thinks of you? Did you know that he… that he-

“I won’t.” You say, cutting him off mid thought. His hand clutches onto you through the fabric of your shirt, trying to reach through you and grab your heart into his hands. He wants to pull it from you, keep it for himself and lock it away, make sure you never fucking leave him. He was so selfish.

“I won’t leave you Charlie.” You say again when he says nothing, just watching his hand twist into the fabric of your shirt, tugging it strangely until he’s rid you of it. He places his hand back on your chest, feeling your heart better now through the barrier of only your flesh.

“I…. I’m sorry.” “You said you wouldn’t lie to me?” It feels like the first thing he’s said in hours, his voice rough around the edges, gooey in the middle. His post-yelling voice, you knew it too well.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Then why… why would you even say that? That you would leave me?”

“Because if that’s what you wanted, what you needed… I would do it. I would do anything you wanted, anything for you, Charlie.”

“Why?” He couldn’t understand. There was no fathamobale reason as to why he would deserve such devotion. Especially from you.

You’re quiet, unsure of how to answer him. This was the same back and forth you both had before he exploded, when you almost told him you… that you lo-

“I-I don’t know how to answer… you told me not to say it.” You whimper, tears spilling from your eyes again. His hand comes to hold your cheek, thumb swiping away the tear. You nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm. You stay there for a moment, resting your face in his palm, feeling his warmth radiating from his hands, letting a silence wash over the two of you. It was sort of peaceful. A chaotic peace.

“Charlie, I-”

“Don’t... don’t say it.” You cry some more, tears spilling. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing gently, you find it oddly comforting.

“But I want to, I want to say it, please.” You grab the wrist of the hand holding your throat, squeezing his flesh, asking.

“No.”

“Charlie-”

“I said no.” He grabs your jaw, shaking you from side to side a little. You whimper, eyes screwing shut, pushing more tears past the precipice. He pulls you into his lap, you’re putty in his hands, letting him move you however he needs to move you. He holds you in his arms, your legs wrap around his waist and his legs bring him to stand up somehow, his strength always shocking you.

“You can’t say it... you can’t leave.” He continues, you sniffle, hiding your face in his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he carries you somewhere through the apartment, up some stairs…

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m- sorry.” You hiccup and cry into his neck, wetting the skin. You press your lips over the newly wet skin, feeling his heartbeat flutter underneath, teeth grazing the thin flesh.

Suddenly he’s lowering you down, down, down until you come in contact with a soft surface, his mattress. Charlie crawls on top of you, you let him rest between your thighs, keeping your legs up high on his waist.

“Don’t ever fucking leave me.” You shake your head from side to side in agreement with him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand trails down the length of your body roughly, burning your flesh in its unforgiving path. You’re left only in your jeans since he removed your shirt when you were still downstairs.

“I won’t, I-I didn’t mean-” You can barely form a proper sentence, choking on your own tears and sadness that wrack through your mind and body. Charlie’s hand in already palming your sex through the thick denim you wear, you whimper, trying to squeeze your thighs together but his body blocks them.

“Stop talking.” He barely gets out the words before he’s pressing his lips to yours again, letting his lips glide against your wobbly and swollen ones. You breathe each other in, letting your tongues dance across one anothers as you gasp and cry into his mouth. It’s all teeth and all tongue, it’s messy, clumsy, desperate, burning. You don’t care, he doesn’t either when your teeth clack against each other, nibbling on lips, biting sometimes.

Charlie flips you over underneath him so that you face the sheets, sliding down your body and roughly tugging down your jeans along with your underwear in one swift motion. You gasp as your wet cunt comes in contact with the cool air of the darkening day. Charlie stands on his knees behind you, pulling your ass up higher, higher, higher until he’s satisfied. His cheeks are warm, his ears pink at the peaks. Before either of you even have time to think, his hand comes down harshly onto your right ass cheek, you cry out, gripping the sheets by your head.

“Ch-Charlie!” You gasp, earning you another smack to your other cheek. You push your head down into the covers, trying to muffle your cries and moans as he keeps going.

His smacks you again, and again, and again and again until you’re a sobbing mess in the sheets. Words, languages lost to you in your muddled brain. A pool of spit near your mouth soaked into the white fabric, only a wet spot remaining to show for evidence of your euphoria. You can feel the imprint of his hand on your ass, you know it's burning red, you know the skin is raised and puffy. You fucking love it.

Charlie’s chest is heaving, breaths labored as he takes it all out on you like he knows you need it, knows you love it. He does too; love it and need it. The way your ass gets so much brighter, how big the imprint he’s left on you is. How fucking perfect you are for him... He’s pulling off his shirt before he knows it, shedding his pants too until he’s in nothing but his underwear. You’ve stayed exactly where you are, not daring to move a muscle since he hasn’t instructed you otherwise.

“So now you listen.” Charlie mutters to himself, it's barely audible to you since the blood is coursing so loudly through your veins, through your ears. You’re buzzing.

Charlie pushes you back down on the mattress so you lay completely flat. He pulls your jeans and underwear down the rest of your legs until you lay there bare before him. He inhales sharply at the sight of you. He could see the way you glisten for him, he could feel it on his hand when he had spanked you, your arousal having begun to trail down the tops of your thighs, he moaned at the sight.

His hand comes flying down, this time spanking you roughly on your pussy causing you to lurch forward into the sheets, crying out his name pathetically again. He leans over you, keeping his hand clutched tightly around your cunt, feeling your juices seep between his fingers, you moan and try to press back into his hand but he just slaps it again, your eyes screwing shut. He’s nearly got his entire weight on top of you, his hot breath fanning across your cheek as he comes close to your face.

“You’re so fucking wet for me… you want it that badly?” You nod your head vigorously.

“Yes! Yes, Charlie I want you, I-I need you so badly, please.”

“Hmmm, what do you need?”

“Anything, y-your fingers…”

“Where”

“... in me, in me please.” You’re completely desperate, your crying and sobbing from earlier making you especially weak to his ways, his voice, his body. God, he could do anything to you, and you would let him, you would beg him, you would thank him.

Slowly, Charlie sinks one thick finger into your soaking cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pumps it slowly, in and out, in and out of you. You try and push your hips back to meet the small thrust of his finger but he keeps you pinned down.

Charlie could feel you clenching around his single digit and he groaned next to your ear, nibbling on the soft lobe as he continued his ministrations. You whined, withered underneath the weight of his body, his hot chest pressing into your back, pressing you into the mattress.

“Charlie, please I-”

“What? You need more? You need more from me?”

“Please.” Charlie draws his index finger out of you before joining it with his middle one, probing your entrance teasingly, swirling his fingers around it but never going in.

“Fuck-”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you, your pussy, none of it. He was only projecting his worthlessness onto you. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t.

“N-no.” You say, tears welling in your eyes from a multitude of things. Overstimulation being one of them. You tried to get your hips to stop pressing into his hand but it was so hard when the temptation was right there.

“No… you don’t.” He kisses the tears that slip from your eye, pressing a finger to your mouth and you gladly take it in, laving your tongue around his salty, rough skin. His two fingers at your entrance finally push in deeper, causing you to cry out around his finger that was in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips.

Then he starts pumping, quickly, and you can’t stop the way your hips push into his hand, trying to meet him halfway through his thrusts, needing more so badly. You moan around his fingers, he echoes your moans back into your ear. You can feel his cock filling out, getting harder and harder against the back of your legs where it still lays confined in his underwear.

All too quickly he pulls his fingers from you and spanks your pussy again, you choke on a cry around the finger that’s still in your mouth. You’re already wrecked, and he’s nowhere near done with you.

“You only get to cum on my cock, understand?” You nod your head with vigour, eyes trying to meet his from where he’s positioned, behind you yet over top of you. You can feel him moving around, pulling his fingers from your mouth and his underwear off as best as he can without moving too far away from you.

“I understand, Charlie.” You cry, the tears unrelenting at this point, beyond your control.

Fuck, what weas he doing? Why was he doing this now?

What other way did he really have though, to show you what you mean to him? Definitely not words, no. No matter how much he writes for the theatre, words could never come close to describing what he feels for you, what he needs from you, wants from you, what he wants to give to you, tell you, provide you. None of it, no language would do.

Nothing would come closer to his body on you, in you, moving in tandem with you, hearts so close together that he loses sense of himself and just feels you wrapped so tightly around him in every sense. That’s the only way he could show you, the only way he could tell you.

He grabs his cock in his hand, pumping himself slowly and rests his head on your shoulder, groaning into your skin at the sensation. “Beg.” He spits, his lips moving against your flesh. He rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds and you yelp, pressing your hips back but he anticipated it, drawing his hips back, away from you.

“Charlie, please I-I need you so badly, I’ve never wanted… anything else but you, I just- please, I need you so bad, I-I, l...love-”

“I told you not to fucking say it.” He grits from behind clenched teeth, slapping your ass harshly and you let a sob leave your lips. The burn was so good.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it-” You whine, fists bunching up the sheets with a grip so deadly your skin is turning white. He lets his head drop to your shoulder again, his own eyes screwing shut, trying to will his own tears away as he continues to run his cock along your pleading entrance, collecting whatever arousal has seeped out of you.

“Fuuuck, perfect little pussy... so desperate for my cock, isn’t it?” He mutters, almost to himself as he watches the way his cock moves between your glistening folds. Unashamed, you keep crying, moaning at the feeling of his big cock so close to where you need him most, nodding your head.

“Please, Charlie I need you inside m- fuck, just put it in, please-”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him press in with the tip, letting the spongy head break through your folds and slightly dip into your entrance. Your fists clench and unclench against the sheets. With a sharp ‘fuck’ Charlie presses the rest of his long, thick cock into you, both of you moaning and breathing in one another.

He lets his cock sit in you, coming to interlock his fingers with yours, pinning your hands above your head, elongating both of your bodies but mostly yours, from how much longer his body is. Only then does he start snapping his hips into yours, letting his thrusts punch out your moans and cries from your chest.

At this angle, he’s hitting places inside of you so deep you never thought you could fathom, filling you up to the brim, you swear you can feel him in your stomach, punching your guts into your throat with every violent thrust.

You moan his name without relent, it’s the only thing you could possibly ever know. Charliecharliecharliecharliecharlie to infinity. You never wanted to know anything else, no other thought suddenly as interesting as him. He was the only thing that mattered. The way his cock filled you was dizzying, mind-numbing, and bone-shattering.

“You always need me so badly, you could never leave me, never leave this cock. Desperate little slut.” Charlie groans, head resting on your back as his powerful thrusts push you up the bed. He latches a hand around one of your hips, trying to keep you pinned down.

“You would never fucking leave me, you’d never fucking do it.” He continues, maybe to himself. You can feel him nuzzling his face into the skin on your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin, leaving a mark in his wake like he always does.

“I won’t, Charlie- I won’t, I promise.” You hiccup, his thrusts unrelenting in their assault. You could feel your release building, that bright white feeling rising inside of you. The only sounds in the room were your breathy moans, Charlie’s growls and the loud slap of skin on skin, his hips colliding with your ass every time.

“Dont ever say that s-shit again- dont ever fucking leave me. Don’t - ever. Fucking. Leave.” He growled, biting your shoulder and punctuating his words with harsher thrusts, fucking into you.

“I’m s-sorry Charlie-” You’re cut off by a sensation on your back. Hot, wet, slippery. Charlie sniffles.

He’s crying, burning holes into your flesh as they land on your back. Your own eyes well up all over again. The pleasure of his cock deep, deep, deep inside you and the emotions flowing through both of you was overwhelming, overstimulating, your mind was going blank, you felt like you would black out.

You hear it then, his quiet cries, the way his chest shakes as he finally lets it go, lets it out. And then he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grabbing one of your ankles and one side of your hip, flipping you over quickly, hiking your legs back up around his waist and continuing his punishing, relentless pace. You moan embarrassingly loudly as you watch the way his stomach flexes into you, the way his chest tightens and constricts, the flush that spreads from in between his marvelous pecs to his cheeks, his dark wet eyes, the red that fills them, the way his eyelashes clump together, making them look longer, darker, the dark halo of hair that frames his face. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was beyond you at this point, you couldn’t stop what was already put into motion.

“Oh, Charlie…” You cry, chest arching into his, your nails scraping his biceps. He moans at the pain, dropping his forehead to yours. You’ve never heard him moan like this, never seen him cry like this, never seen him so lost and completely gone in you.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if you would regret it tomorrow.

Or five minutes from now.

Or immediately afterwards.

It was the truth, your truth. His truth. It was the only thing you could ever possibly know.

“I love you.” You cry, burning tears streaming down your cheeks. Charlie’s eyes meet yours, lost, delirious, shocked.

“You… y-you can’t.” He doesn’t tell you to stop this time. Doesn’t tell you to shut up, doesn’t tell you how dumb and pathetic it is to love him. You love him.

“I do, Charlie I-I do. Fuck, I love you so fucking much.” You whine, nails biting the skin on his back. His hips never stop, he’s fucking common sense and all things rational out of your mind. All you know is him. All you ever want to know is him, Charlie.

His chin wobbles, moans escape past his lips as he refuses to stop fucking you, his cock so fucking hard it hurts him, almost more than this. Almost more than the chant that has started to leave your lips, the floodgates have been opened and you can’t stop your confession now.

“I love you, I love you- shit, Charlie I love you, I love you so much, I love your fucking cock, fuck!” You couldn't stop, you felt like you could never stop at this point. You never wanted to stop saying it, never wanted to stop telling him. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“You’re… you’re not real… you’re- fuck, too fucking good for m-me.” Charlie gasps, his hips speeding up, his cock growing harder somehow. You feel him pulse inside of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth hanging agape, no sound being emitted from you. Charlie moves his lips down to your exposed throat, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin before wrapping a firm hand around it, not squeezing too tight.

“Yours.” You manage to choke out, gripping onto his wrist that's at your throat with all the strength you had with your body gone pleasure weak. Charlie moans your name, it makes you cry more.

“I’m yours, Charlie.” You manage to say more clearly, using all your willpower to look him in the eyes. His eyes are blown black, the dark circles underneath them so, so pigmented. You could feel the crescendo building, he was about to break. His lips were glossy, spit slicked and roughly bitten.

“You’re mine.” He confirms, more to himself than to you. He just… he felt like he could never be sure enough. Like he would never believe that you were his. That you were in love with him.

You nod your head, hands interlocking behind his head, gripping tightly into his hair.

“I’m yours, yours.” You keen, hips rolling into his as you both neared your release. His hand around your throat keeps you pinned in place as his fucks you into the mattress, moaning, groaning, crying your name. The slight added pressure makes you see stars, your pussy flutters around his cock and your back arches, pressing your chest into his but Charlie keeps you exactly where you are, your body convulsing as you cum, cum, cum around his cock, screaming his name.

“M’gonna cum, gonna f-fucking cum s-so deep inside, fill you up-”

“Please, Charlie.” You whine, dumb from the high that he continues to fuck you through, tears stained on the skin of your cheeks. You tug on his hair roughly, meeting his thrusts with a roll of your hips and that sends Charlie over the edge.

“Fhuuuck-” He lifts his head slightly, to look at you better as he splits you open one final time, his cock stilling in the deepest parts of you before he cums so fucking deep inside your pussy with the most guttural moan.

He fucks his cum back in to you until it’s seeping back out onto his cock. He groans so loudly you feel it in your bones. His hands wrap around your upper body, holding you tightly as he spins to lay on the mattress, holding your body to his chest, his cock still nestled deep inside of you.

Charlie gives you a small thrust, pushing and mixing his cum with yours one final time. You gasp and cling to him, your nails digging slightly into his muscular pec at the sensation, the delicious burn. You feel so incredibly full, so full of your Charlie. You love him.

“I lo-”

“I love you.”

Your heart must have stopped beating, your lungs, forgotten their functionality, your brain short circuited, your limbs incapacitated.

You looked up at him with those big, shiny wet eyes. You looked like a fawn, lost on the side of the road who just found someone who could help them. Someone kind, someone gentle, honest, safe, warm. Someone worth loving. He was worth loving. Charlie was worth loving.

But you already knew that.

He said it again, so low in the dark room, the dark night, eclipsed with spilled feelings and sweat, tears too. So many fucking tears. His voice so low it almost didn’t register, the deep vibrato rumbling your insides and warming you up all over again.

He said it with you curled up on his chest, he said it again when you moved up his body to press your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips to his bruised skin, he said it as tears spilled from your eyes. He would say it as you fell asleep on him in the deadly hours of the night and again in the morning when you woke. He would remind you constantly, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it in. Not anymore.

He would tell you he loves you a million and one times from then on, until you didn’t want to hear it from him anymore.

tag list! @morby @shesakillerkween @gamingaquarius

#charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #reader insert #charlie barber x you #charlie barber imagine #charlie barber smut #long sleeves #part 2 #tw: daddy kink #cw: daddy kink #my writing

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talas-starlight · 4 years

Text

Scarred Spirits - zuko x fem!reader (pt.6)

SUMMARY: Y/n has been tailing Azula since Omashu and struggles to carry out her mission while protecting what matters most (AHAHAH THIS WAS THE WORST SUMMARY EVER IM SORRY)

WORD COUNT: 4k (uh wow this is my longest piece ever and i- AHAHA)

WARNINGS: panic attacks, fighting, swearing, angst? Tbh if you’ve made it this far in the series nothing new I think (lmk if I forgot anything)

KEY: *** = flashback && italic = internal dialogue

PREVIOUS PARTS: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

MASTERLIST: Here!

The cool breeze swept through the palanquin as Azula sat assuredly, ruling everything she passed. “Okay girls, Father has sent word that the machinery and our wonderful new pets will meet up with us soon to chase down the Avatar until he’s too exhausted to even think anymore! Then, we’ll be off to capture Zuzu and Uncle! Victory will be ours.”

“That sounds extremely boring.” Grumbling as if Mai had so much more better things to do with her time.

“Hmm, I have to disagree Mai. What would be more fun than making them feel like there’s no escape but having to fight which they would inevitably fail at trying to win because they’re tired beyond repair!! It will be such a sweet victory.” Letting out a small laugh that sounded nothing but maniacal to you, Mai didn’t say another word as Ty Lee giddily nodded in approval.

Now, that is a tragic sight to see despite how understandably so.

Azula, Ty Lee and Mai have been planning how to hunt down the additional target from the moment they all stepped out of Omashu. Yet, based on that recent encounter, it was more so Azula rather than anyone else. Luckily enough, you were able to stay out of sight the entire time, and nothing requiring you to intervene has occurred. It was only a matter of time before that lucky streak broke.

After much contemplation and sleepless nights since the third anniversary, along with recent events, Zuko finally came to a conclusion. Approaching his uncle with great certainty, he finally let out what has been on his mind.

“Uncle, I thought a lot about what you said.”

“You did? Good, good.”

“It’s helped me realise something.” Letting out a deep breath, getting to the point came quite easily to him, especially since Iroh’s back was still faced towards him.

“We no longer have anything to gain by travelling together. I need to find my own way.”

Not wanting to stay for any of Iroh’s possible rebuttals, he silently reached for his belongings that he had pre-packed for the occasion and turned to make his solo journey into the forest. As he began to walk further into the woods on his own, Iroh knew he wouldn’t turn back for him, so he did the first thing he could think of to aid his nephew if he couldn’t physically be there for him.

“Wait!” Rushing over Iroh grabbed the Ostrich Horse and gave him to Zuko- for someone who has barely been exposed to the real world, he knew his nephew couldn’t do entirely on his own. Even if the animal couldn’t properly speak with him.

Accepting his uncles’ gesture, he climbed on top ready to get on with his own mission of sorts. On his own, Zuko would finally have the chance to do something he never had time to consider until now; find you.

Looking out onto the horizon, the giant, ugly piece of machinery continued to charge its way towards a hopeless group of young teenagers. “Despite how much I hate that girl, I will admit, her determination is unparalleled.”

“Eerrnngggghhhhh!”

“You can say that again.”

It had been approximately three days since Azula received her new toy, and she spent every single minute catching up with the Avatar. To your relief, she seems to have finally caught sight of him, and hopefully, this would also mean that you might finally be able to stop tailing her. In the past three days, you haven’t managed to catch a single minute of sleep or a break, and while this was something you have experienced before, you were sure that your ride was more than ready to collapse at any second.

In all honesty, when a Fire Nation hawk landed near your campsite four days earlier, the last thing you expected was word that you would be receiving assistance for your mission. Not once before had this occurred since you’ve been entirely left to your own devices. You supposed it was because the stakes were too high this round.

***

Y/N.

I am pleased to hear that my daughter is able to catch sight of the Avatar and his assistants in crime against my great nation. While I am sure you are clearly focused on your task with ensuring Azula succeeds in bringing my disgraceful relatives back to the palace, you must extend your attention towards the new targets as well. Regarding my son and brother, I was disappointed when I heard word that they got away since I made it perfectly clear that you must finish the job. On this occasion, I will take the benefit of the doubt since it would be too suspicious if you completed the mission on Azula’s first attempt.

I have dispatched 3 mongoose lizards for Azula and her company. A fourth will be on its way for your use, as it is paramount that you do not let her fail whatsoever.

I have taken the precious and personal time out of my day to write and send this letter so that word does not reach my daughter of your mission. Let this also be a reminder of the possible bounty on your head if you choose to fail. I am sure the pitiful state of your body is enough of a reminder of what I can do to you.

Regardless of your past services to me, remember this is the ultimate test of your loyalty to your nation and me.

Your Fire Lord, Ozai.

Despite informing you that help that was on its way, you spent the rest of the night in a state of turmoil. Talk about having a way with words.

How in Spirits name did that stupid bird find me?! It flew away quickly too so I guess I don’t need to send anything back but… What am I really doing here?

Ozai seems to have some way of finding me so clearly, I can’t run away. Yet, I’m not going to allow him to take anyone back to the Capital…

Frozen in your thoughts, your focus stayed fixated on the fire you ignited earlier in the night.

Fuck I wish I could talk to her. She’d know the right thing to say, and everything would be okay again.

Roughly tugging at your braided hair, you held your legs to your chest desperately trying to clear your head. Stop, don’t think about her too.

Oblivious to any concept of time, when the first rays of yellow and orange peak over the horizon, your mind instantly enters a state of calm. Almost as if it were able to strengthen you from your core. Although while the problem remained, with a stronger mindset, you forced yourself to accept that you were just going to have to work it out further down the line. At this rate with Azula’s split focus, you weren’t even sure if you would have to take care of the Avatar or Zuko first.

***

Funnily enough, it seemed that fate decided you would have to deal with both at the same time since Zuko has caught sight of Azula and friends and now you were tailing both him and his sister. How convenient.

I wonder where Iroh is? Didn’t he get away with Zuko when they ran off the ship?

After keeping out of sight through every moment Azula came even remotely close to Aang, you decided to follow her when she separated from Mai and Ty Lee. But before you entered the area to keep an eye on everything from afar, you noticed Zuko on his Ostrich Horse as if he was waiting for the right moment to interfere.

“Be careful Zuko.”

Whipping around at a speed that could give him whiplash, his face instantly turned into nothing short of a scowl when he recognised your voice.

“You again?! Whoever you are, you need to get away from me. Leave. Me. Alone!”

Attempting and failing to take a step closer to him as he steers his horse a few steps back. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all I want to do. If I could have it my way, you’d be far away from this place; away from Azula. You can’t trust her. This isn’t right, and you should be somewhere that could give you a fresh start, like Ba Sing Se.”

“As if you would know anything about Azula or why I’m here! I need to regain my honour, and I’m doing the right thing! Stop trying to meddle with my life when your role in it is completely insignificant!”

An indignant sigh passes through your lips. “Fine. Just be careful. Please.”

Scowling at you once more Zuko tugs the reigns on his ostrich horse to take him further into the abandoned village. You try not to let his anger get to you, but at this point, you’re unsure if you’re more upset or annoyed with his attitude. Sighing under your mask, you do a quick check that all of your weapons are strapped in place since it seems that this interaction isn’t about to end peacefully.

“Let’s do this.”

Hopping off your new lizard friend, you stealthy broke through one of the broken windows of a nearby building, ensuring that you were staying out of sight.

Ah, it seems he wasn’t wasting any time.

“Back off Azula. He’s mine.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

As the three of them got into their fighting stances, you almost wanted to jump in right then and there to help Aang. The sight of his painfully dark under circles was too much of an indicator that this fight wasn’t going to be an easy one.

Making the first move, Azula strikes her blue fire towards Zuko. Luckily enough for him, he was able to deflect it with his own. Observing the fight take place before you, it eventually gravitates further away, leaving you to only listen to what is occurring from your hidden spot.

I wonder how long until I’ll have to step in. With both Zuko and Azula on the offence, it’s clear that one of them is going to get hurt. Something tells me it’s not going to be Azula either. If only he fought smarter rather than harder.

What. A. Pity.

Soon enough, your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Zuko let out an angered scream, followed by a loud crash. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let out a small snicker at that.

As Aang comes back into view, you scan around for an exit knowing that if you stay where you are, you’ll get caught. Yet when you make your move to run, half of the roof is swiped off clean, causing him to plummet towards the ground. Abandoning any thought, you sprint back to where he’s about to land, quickly catching him.

Stunned that there was another person in a building, Aang frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was that caught him. Eventually, he noticed your eyes peering through some of the broken wooden ceiling around him, your black mask confirming that it was you. “Woah! What…? Oh spirits, it’s you!”

Eye’s widening at how fast he managed to work out that it was you, you desperately tried to dig yourself into the wreckage as you felt Azulas fire coming closer. “Shhh! She’s coming.”

“What? How do you know-?”

As Azula saunters into the building, her infamous smirk adorning her face. Wordlessly lighting up the room's perimeter in flames, Aang begins to struggle against the piece of wood on top of him, consequently crushing you further from under him.

Letting out a small grunt, you scold him under your breath, “stay calm.”

Your inner peace y/n.

Just as Azula raised her right hand to strike, you closed your eyes, imagining a moment you felt at peace. A moment that made you forget all of the chaos your created in the world.

***

Cold, smooth fingertips tenderly reached out towards you, instinctively making your lungs tightly squeeze together as she brushed the hair out of your eyes. The delicate giggle emitting from her pink stained lips was enough for you to lose all sense of constraint as you take a small step towards her. Hesitantly as you stare that the ground, you take her hand in yours, stroking the back of it with your thumb. The action is so small yet feels so loud in your chest because this is as close as its ever gotten.

Just when you’re about to pull it away completely, terrified that you’ve gone too far, her other hand reaches up, lifting your chin ever so softly as she makes you look at her.

“It’s funny y/n, because even though I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve never seen snow look quite as beautiful as it does in your hair.”

***

When you reopen them, the heat of your fire runs its way through your veins and your fingertips. The fallen remains all around you burst away, freeing yourself and Aang from its constrains. Seeing your golden fire of pure energy light up the room, Azula is stunned into place, instantly recognising it from the day she visited your cell all those years ago. Glowing golden, eyes peering into the deepest parts of her, it's unnerving how the unusual feeling sinks into her bones. Yet, her moments of distraction leave her as Katara reaches the entryway whipping her arm with water.

Complete rage fills Azula’s body. Not only had she been wholly blindsided by your presence, but she also lost focus. And Azula never loses focus.

Whirling around, she strikes at Katara, sending her running out into the open. Needing to make up for her prior incompetence, Azula runs after her.

“Woah! How did you do that?! That was so cool.”

“There’s no time; you need to go out there and help your friends. Never underestimate that princess.”

Aang’s amazement towards how you freed both of you from the crushing weight of the ceiling faltered as he noticed your choice of words.

“Come with me. Please. I need you.”

Sensing the certainty of his decision, you brushed off some ash from your clothing, wordlessly making your way out of the building.

I’m going to regret this.

With Aang following closely behind, you both join Sokka and Katara, and they face Azula, ready to corner her. Yet she wasn’t giving up just yet. Sending her fire with precision, she takes turns in having a shot at each of you. Luckily enough, you were all able to hold your own.

Backing away slowly, you can tell she thinks that she’s almost about to get a proper hold of the entire situation. But to your greatest joy, she falls flat on her face.

“I thought you guys could use a little help.”

This must be Aangs new earth bending teacher.

“Thanks.” Did Katara just smile?!

Not wasting the opportunity that came with their small distraction, she makes a run for an ally as an escape. Although, once again, she is faced with another hurdle being Iroh, ultimately allowing all seven of you to finally corner her.

In true fashion, she doesn’t allow it to bother her one bit, “well, look at this. Enemies and traitors all working together.”

Taking in everyone one by one, she pauses when her eyes lock with yours. “Even you. Pathetic scum, it seems you still haven’t learnt your lesson. I always told father we should have disposed of you from the moment we caught you.” With that comment, you see Zuko glance towards you in your peripheral vision. This is nowhere near the time right now coal brain.

“I’m done.” Raising her arms in surrender, you almost want to laugh. Do these people seriously believe Azula right now?

“I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honour.” Standing before everyone, you instinctively fixate yourself on her, searching for a microexpression to indicate what she’s really about to do. Her smug smile clearly shows that she’ll most likely attack. But who?

By the time she decides on her target, it’s too late. Sending a direct stream of fire towards Iroh, Zuko lets out a horrified scream, instinctively setting off everyone to attack with their element, or weapon in Sokkas case. You on the other hand, rushed to Iroh’s side knowing that the others were more than capable on their own.

As he lays passed out on the ground, panic slowly swarms in your chest. Fuck, another person is dying because of me! I literally saw her focus on him!

Placing your hands on his chest, you let out a deep breath trying to remember a trick you learned on a mission a while back when you got a deep cut to your side. Focusing on him and his faint heartbeat, despite being a bit shaky, you were able to use your fire, providing him with enough energy to bring his breathing to a steady rate. But the moment was short-lived when you heard an explosion go off, giving Zuko the opportunity to get to his uncle's side, and in turn, shove you away from him.

“Get off him! You’re always in the way! Arghhhh!”

Haistly scrambling to your feet, you stand beside Sokka, understanding that it’s best you try not to help him right now. Katara, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share those feelings with you.

“Zuko, I can help.”

“LEAVE!” as he strikes towards you and everyone else, you stumbled backwards. Memories of a similar flame being struck towards you by his father felt like something inside you snapped. While not directly hitting you, the heat radiating down upon you caused your head to spin, and vision to blur.

It seemed that despite training with fire for the past three years, the action coming from him sent you down a spiral incomparable to anything else.

i-I can’t... I’m…

The earth bender girl immediately sensing what was happening to you didn’t hesitate, “Sokka! Grab her! Quickly, we need to go to Appa.”

“What?! Why me!”

“Shut up!! Her heart rate is literally through the roof right now. We need to help her! Can’t you see her shaking right in front of you?!”

Finally taking a good look at your trembling form, Sokka was too stunned to move.

Aang immediately agreeing with Toph, nudges him before setting off in the direction of Appa. “Sokka, NOW!”

Snapping out of his panicked, frozen state, he rushes towards you, scooping you up into his arms.

“Oh Spirits, I am so so sorry if I’m invading your personal space right now. Please, I’m so sorry. It’ll only be until we reach Appa, okay? I’m so…”

Fisting the cloth of his shirt, you shake your head. “It’s o-okay.” Pushing your face into his chest, you try to regulate your breathing in time with his heartbeat. Something was so unexplainably comfortable about having someone hold you that all of the memories of Ozai burning you, began to make its way back into the depths of your mind. So comforting, that at some point between the village and Appa, you passed out.

When you awoke again, you were high up in the clouds with the sun high in the air. How long was I out?

Deciding to sit upright, the first thing you see is the Water Tribe siblings and the earth kingdom girl facing you.

At first, you thought Toph was about to speak up, yet it seemed that Katara’s suspicions of you beat her to the punch. “Don’t think of moving too fast or trying anything! You're cornered now.”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “Alright, then. How would you like me?”

Upon, hearing your voice Aang physically perked up, completely beaming that you were awake. Without a second thought, he trusted that Appa would be able to fly for a bit on his own, making his way to all of you.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay! I was really worried about you.” Taking his place next to Katara, you were shocked at the stark contrast between his attitude towards you, and hers. It’s like he genuinely cares. Well… I guess that makes sense considering he’s an Air Nomad. Oh spirits, does this mean he’s going to pay even more attention to me than when we first met?!

“Uh… thanks. I appreciate it, but you really didn’t have to.”

“No, of course I did! Plus, I’m grateful that you helped me out with Azula! It’s the least we could do. Right guys?” Still having his glowing smile, he turns to his friends, and it seemed that the only one who truly looked indifferent with the entire matter was the earth kingdom girl who just nodded.

“Thanks, Toph!” Finally, a name.

Once again, Katara was displeased, “yeah whatever. If she’s going to stay with us, she’s going to have to tell us who she is. Don’t think we didn’t hear what Azula said back there about you. You need to explain what she meant by that. How does she know you, and what do you have to do with the Fire Lord?!”

At those questions, you weren’t too happy either, “I don’t want to stay with you! I just need to leave and find Azula again.”

For the first time since you woke up, Sokka decided to say something. “Why would you ever want to do that?! Why do you keep wanting to go back to her when you keep getting separated?! If you ask me it’s clearly a sign that you should stay away because she’s completely insane! She even knows you followed her and everything, so she’s going to have her guard up.”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t get back to Azula, people are going to get hurt. I’ve literally saved your lives on two occasions just by tailing her. Now, think about all of the people she can harm when no one’s watching. I’m also a threat to all of your destinies by being here.”

Uncomfortable with the tension that’s been building at an alarming rate, Aang moves so that he’s sitting in between you and the other three. “Okay, I understand, but could you please explain why you’re a threat by being here? You need to stay safe too, your life matters just as much as everyone else’s and even though you’ve proven yourself more than capable of protecting yourself, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be safe if you go to her and I can't let you go knowing your life is at risk.”

“Aang, there are always risks. Spirits, all four of you are at risk, but you know that it's for the greater good to end this war.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same. We have each other; we look after each other. You don’t have that. Please. You don’t have to tell us everything now. I understand since we’ve only met once before, but I promise no matter what it will all be okay and you can be apart of our team. Our family.”

On that note, you hesitated. A family?

No. The spirits have made it clear enough that a family is not in my cards.

“That sounds great, but I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Sokka lets out a frustrated groan, “What? Of course, it will! I know I’m not your biggest fan, but it's clear you’re just as against the Fire Nation as the rest of us!”

Looking around at all of their faces, you can tell that even though Sokka and mainly Katara, still clearly have their reservations about you, they understand where Aang is coming from. Heck, if it meant that they had another person on their side and against Azula and the Fire Nation, that was already a win. You almost felt guilty when you saw their horrified faces as you revealed the truth.

“It won’t work because I’m the Fire Lords personal assassin.”

taglist: @slythergirlimagines @mangoberry43 @eridanuswave @whiskeywinter89 @kaylove12 @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins @callums-keith @ilovespideyyy @calciumcow @blackhood5sos @nnon-it-up @lozzybowe @scarletemeterio @reclusive-chicken-nugget @simpinforsukka @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @sokkassuki @spearbatty

a/n: hehe hiya friends!! Thanks for reading hehe I hope you enjoyed!! Lelel lmk your thoughts or any predictions for what you think is guna happen next hehe

alsoooo did anyone spot my lil inserts for our second lead? AHAHAHAHAHA

don’t fear either!! Zuko will learn eventually hehehe

but anyway i would love to hear from all of you if you have any feedback as well :))

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kaori-flowers · 4 years

Text

It's literally 2:49 AM as of now and idk what i wrote tbh. I can't remember the plot i was going dor and im feally tired so enjoy :)

♡

"Oh! I forgot to tell you Dream is coming today!"

Tommy froze as soon as those words came out of Wilbur's mouth. His jaw tightened and he finished stacking the wood he collected. Then he cracked his knuckles and walked to his tent, pushing it open and crawling inside. Wilbur frowned a little and finished putting the flowers down. He walked over to the tent and crouched down, looking in at Tommy. Tommy crawled in the samll bed he made and pulled the blankets around himself. He closed his eyes despite not being tired at all, but he didn't want to see or even hear Dream.

"Are you alright Tommy? Do you need some blue?"

Wilbur was concerned for his, still alive, little brother. Although he didn't quite understand why Tommy was so upset, he still tried to be a supportive brother. Tommy was grateful that Wilbur hadn't fully abandoned him yet, but at the same time he wanted him to go away.

"No Wilbur. I am just feeling sick, and going to take a nap."

Tommy was lying of course. He just didn't want to be around Dream, at all, ever again. He despised him completely for separating him and Tubbo. Although Tommy was beginning to think everything was his fault and he deserved this. He was beginning to think he deserved all of this. He just wanted to wilt away.

"Alright! I will finish up the garden and bring you back some food!"

Wilbur said cheerfully, walking away from the tent. Tommy curled up in a ball on the uncomfortable floor of the tent. Then he wrapped the blanket around himself, pulling it over his head. He closed his eyes and gently put his hand over them, breathing lightly. He laid there in silence, listening to his own breathing and the birds chirping in the nearby trees. It was slightly calming but he couldn't sleep. He was dreading the arrival of Dream, but already planned to 'be asleep' when he does actually arrive. Wilbur occasionally checked on him to see that Tommy barley moved. Wilbur continued to leave him alone, but stacked his chest with food he collected. He also continued working on the garden as Tommy continued to hide under the blanket in the tent. Time passed slowly and Tommy felt like every second was a year. He was felt bored and impatient while he laid under the blankets, but couldn't sleep and didn't want to get up. He didn't want to get up, and leave the tent knowing Dream was coming and would probably be here soon.

"Where's Tommy?"

Soon was an understatement. Then again Tommy was unsure how much time actually passed, he laid there for so long. Wilbur waved and smiled at Dream, holding out a flower to him.

"Hello Dream! Tommy is asleep in the tent. He doesn't feel good, please do not disturb him!"

Wilbur said politely but yet it still somehow managed to sound like a threat. Dream glanced at the tent, wondering if Tommy had gotten sick. He looked back at Wilbur and smiled softly, back at him. Then Dream looked around slowly taking in what has been done around here. He noticed the two small stacks of wood and sticks, as well as a small little container made out of rocks and dirt. He opened it and looked in to see raw chicken and fish. Some of it looked rotten, and smelled bad. He cringed a little and shut it, walking over to the tent. He glanced in to look at Tommy. Tommy was still curled up under the blanket in a ball. Under the blanket Tommy still had his eyes closed, but kept listening. Dream decided to leave him alone, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"Has he been eating normally? Drinking normally?"

Dream did in fact have concern for Tommy's health, because he knew how hurt Tubbo would be if he died. Tubbo would blame Dream, which technically it is his fault. Dream is the one who made Tubbo exile Tommy. But still Tubbo would blame dream, hate him, even resent him, and most likely cut off all ties with him. Tubbo would turn his back on Dream and show him no compassion at all. The only thing Dream would get from Tubbo would be war. Or flat out murder. Imprisonment.

"Um yeah kinda. He's been drinking a lot, I don't watch him but im sure he eats just fine."

Wilbur did watch Tommy though. Wilbur hovered over Tommy every time he got up from the bed. Wilbur knew and saw everything that Tommy did. Wilbur didn't trust Dream with important information about his younger brother. Even with memory loss Wilbur felt there was something off with this situation. He decided against being honest with Dream. It's not like Dream would be able to tell anyways.

"Do you guys need more food? More blankets?"

Dream was trying to be nice, offering the few things that would keep Tommy alive. So if he did die Wilbur would be his witness that he tried to give them up. Although Wilbur wouldn't let Tommy die. Wilbur was all Tommy had left and he knew that. He knew that Tommy needed him now more than ever, and wouldn't let anything happen to him. Wilbur was working on bringing his stuff from his regular home over to Tommy's tent. Mostly books so Tommy wouldn't be so bored and lonely.

"No."

Wilbur replied dully before going back to work on the garden. Wilbur found very few seeds and decided to plant them in hopes food for Tommy would grow. As Wilbur worked on the garden not far from the tent, Dream made an actual chest. A big enough one where they could store useful things in there. He transferred the good food over to the chest before scrapping the shit chest and rotten food. Tommy was a little annoyed that Wilbur declined extra blankets, because he was cold. Even though Wilbur was dead, Tommy wasn't yet. Tommy mentally rolled his eyes and did his best to keep in place. He occasionally rolled over, and stretched out his legs but didn't get up. He didn't want to get up, hearing dream's voice was enough to give him a headache.

"Alright Wilbur, let me know when Tommy gets up. Also let me know if he gets even more sick. I'll be back tomorrow."

Dream gave up and got back in his boat, pushing off from the island. Wilbur got up from the garden and dusted his hands off. He waved and watched, waiting patiently for Dream to disappear out of sight. Once he was gone Wilbur walked over to the tent and gently cleared his throat.

"He is gone now Tommy."

"Thank you Wilbur...."

Tommy barely moved again, worrying Wilbur a little. He gently set some blue in the tent next to Tommy before backing off. Tommy looked at it and it got darker blue. He rolled his eyes and rolled over in the tent, gently grabbing the compass. He softly rubbed the marks in it and gently rubbed his thumb over Tubbo's name that was carved in it. He closed his eyes and gently pulled it to his chest.

The next few days Wilbur politely told Tommy every time Dream was going to show up. Which Tommy was grateful for, and managed to program his sleeo schedule with Dream's visits. It made Dream a little worried that Tommy was sick, and getting worse. Wilbur provided no help to Dream and gave him plain answers. Although it only lasted a few more days before Dream caved and tried waking him up. Mainly because he was worried Tommy was dying.

"Hey long time no see."

"Go away."

Tommy rolled away from Dream as soon as he saw his face, covering himself back up with the blanket. Dream yanked it off him, making him shiver and shake from the cold wind that blew in the tent. It made Dream feel a little bit bad, but didn't give the blanket back.

"Come on Tommy. I wanna see you up and moving, lets go."

Tommy rolled his eyes and removed the pillow from under his head. He put it on top of his head and curled up in a ball, cold without his blanket. That Dream had.....

"Tommy-"

"Go away. Don't you have a husband to be with? And friends to chat up? Leave me alone. This is my little place so stop invading me and go away!"

Tommy snapped at him, his voice rough and tired. Dream stood up and tossed the blanket to him, still feeling worried. His voice was different than what it had usually been. Dream knew that Tubbo would kill him if anything bad happened to Tommy. So Dream needed to figure something out and fast. Meanwhile Tommy grabbed the blanket and wrapped himself up. The blanket was thin and small but it kept him a little warm at least. It was all Tommy had so it worked for now....

#mcyt fandom #dream mcyt #dream smp #tommyinit #tommyinnit #mcyt fanfiction #kaori writes

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shutupaboutandraste · 3 years

Note

Welcome to the DADWC! Here is a prompt for you! Restaurant AU, with the characters of your choice!

Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope the drabble is to your liking.

Word Count: 1655

Pairing: Cullen/Bull

For @dadrunkwriting

Going to restaurants was an added benefit of being friends with Vivienne. Madame De Fer’s Critiques was the formal review column that she ran, seemingly dictating the future of upper echelon restaurants. This was not one of those restaurants. A greasy hole-in-the-wall bar and grille had been Bull’s desired stop of the night. She had dragged her friend around all day from place to place all weekend. Now out of reviewable restaurants, Bull had desired food with fat and grease and everything else bad for you.

“Couldn’t have picked a place a little cleaner?” she asked, her nose turning up as she sat down at the bar with Bull.

The place was smoky with dark lighting, harsh yellow incandescent lamps hung from the ceiling and came out of the wall at each booth. The ones at the booths had a dirty stained glass look to them, mixes of the deep yellow with rich reds and blues. The cushions were worn red leather. Booze wafted around them, mixing in with the scents of mouth-watering food.

A gleeful smile crossed Bull’s face as he shook his head, “Absolutely not. You dressed me up for your fancy shit, now we get to eat where I like, Ma’am.”

Vivienne tutted, “I’m a fine dining connoisseur. This bar food won’t impress me unless it tastes like gold.”

“I hope not,” Bull told her, “I think gold food would taste pretty shitty.” Vivienne groaned.

From behind the bar, a curly-haired blond man approached, shaking a martini mixer vigorously. That certainly caught Bull’s eye. Firm fingers held the silver cups, curling at the tips to keep the glass in place. A wry smirk came over Bull’s lips as the man’s rhythm slowed before he poured the drinks before carefully sliding them to another couple of patrons. A tired, but gentle smile was turned his and Vivienne's way, reaching beneath the bar and pulling out two menus, placing them before the duo. “Welcome to Herald’s Rest,” he said, “My name’s Cullen--”

“Bull,” he interrupted with a wink.

Cullen seemed taken aback, no doubt trying to figure out if that was deliberate or a blink, but did his best customer service smile. Bull avoided cringing. Okay that was the wrong move for this guy, then.

“Nice to meet you,” Cullen said before diving into the specials for the evening as well as the unique drafts they had that night.

Vivienne actually looked almost impressed at the selection, which was probably the best this place would get from her. Both of them ordered their meals in quick succession-- a whiskey bourbon burger for Bull and a salmon salad for Vivienne. She wasn’t sure she should trust the fish here, but Cullen assured her that they always bought their fish fresh every morning. The owner would allow nothing less than perfection when it came to quality.

“I will be the judge of that, dear,” Vivienne had told him.

And, to Bull’s surprise, she judged it quite well. Much to his delight, he watched her sneak out her phone, quickly tapping away some notes in the folder that held her restaurant reviews. As Cullen made his way back over to check on them, she quickly slid it back into her purse. Her shoulders rolled back into a confident smile while Bull leaned forward on the bar.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” he said, taking away Bull’s empty glass, “And you’d like a refill?”

“Please,” replied Bull. Cullen quickly got to work mixing a cocktail for Bull. Normally, he went for straight liquor, but oh what those hands could do.

Vivienne told him that everything most certainly was. They chatted pleasantly while Bull watched, silent and studying. Their bartender was certainly well-kpet-- firm stubbled chin, a lip scar that seemed to enhance his face rather than detract, perfectly curled and styled hair, even his shirt-- a black tee that had ‘Herald’s Rest’ emblazoned on it in bold letters-- was fitted to perfection. Eventually, of course, a crack had to show. As Cullen finished pouring the drinks, he set down the shaker to clasp his fingers. To the naked eye he might have just been trying to crack his knuckles, but Bull could see that they were shaking.

“You alright, man?” he asked, with a mark of genuine concern in his voice.

A real smile crossed Cullen’s face this time as he nodded, “Yes, my apologies, I’ll have your drinks in a moment….” True to his word, Cullen was able to give them their drinks, though Bull watched as the man kept his eyes trained on his fingers, as if waiting for them to betray him. Thankfully, they lasted long enough to deliver them safely. He nodded, “Let me or Sera know if you need anything else.”

At hearing her name, the other bartender, a blond elven woman with hand-cropped hair, looked up. Cullen gave her a nod which she nodded back to before moving to handle her customers again. Bull turned to make sure his good eye watched Cullen slip into the kitchen. A small frown took over his face-- Vivienne would say he was pouting, but he didn’t pout.

Though, instead, finishing her meal, Vivienne slipped out of her chair, “Unfortunately, I need to use the powder room.”

“Have fun with that,” snickered Bull, casting her a wry glance before turning his attention back toward the door.

He stayed like that for a while before he heard someone huff. He turned to see the elven woman--Sera-- looking at him, grabbing some empty dishes and glasses from the couple next to Bull and Vivienne who had just left. Instead of speaking, he just shrugged at her.

“Don’t worry ‘bout ‘im,” she said, “Takes a bit ‘fore he can come back. Shakes and all.”

“He okay?” asked Bull.

“I jus’ said don’ worry ‘bout ‘im, right?” she told him, “Yeesh.”

True to her word, Cullen did reappear just as Sera said no more than five minutes later. Vivienne still hadn’t come back from the bathroom, which was concerning. He hoped that fish had been up to quality despite how the bar looked. Bull watched Cullen flex his hand, leaning against the wall as he looked nervously at the bar. Bull slipped out of his seat, taking Vivienne’s purse with him. Mainly, because she’d kill him if he didn’t.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked.

Cullen looked up at him like a deer in headlights, his fist curling up protectively. That was good-- the man had fighting instincts from somewhere. Layers laid beneath that pretty face. It wasn’t unusual for Bull to flirt with a bartender, but Cullen had been a fun puzzle to figure out and Bull wasn’t quite done. No… He might need a few more visits before he had completed it.

“Yes,” he replied, sighing, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you unattended.”

“You’re good,” Bull rumbled, “Ma’am’s at the bathroom anyway.”

“...You call her Ma’am?” he asked, head tilting as though he were a young Mabari and not a full grown man. Bull couldn’t help but stare openly, a smile echoing on his face.

“Friend of me,” he clarified, “She hates Viv and Vivienne is too long to say.”

Cullen actually let out a soft chuckle, “Ah, I see. Well, I hope she finds our restrooms to her liking as well. Not every day a critic walks into our bar.”

Now that had caught Bull’s attention. Vivienne made extra precautions to make sure no one discovered that there was a food critic in her midsts at any restaurant. It came with the territory of getting an honest review. Yet, her Cullen had stated her profession like it was plain as day. Bull crossed his arms.

“You figure that out on your own?” he asked.

Cullen shook his head, “No… Someone like her doesn’t normally walk into The Rest for… obvious reasons. I mentioned it to our assistant manager, Leliana. She’s the one who said she was, uh, oh… that Orlesian blog I can never remember the name of. Madame something. Made sure to treat her as anyone else. Leliana believes special treatment gets you caught once you know.” He chuckled nervous, reaching up a hand to rub the back of his neck, “I.. should get back to work.”

“Let me do the honor of escorting you,” Bull said, motioning toward the step toward the bar. That little jibe managed to get Cullen to snort a little before hurrying over back behind the bar with a quick, yet confidant gate. That was a military man’s walk. Just who was this bartender?

Bull followed, taking his seat again and resting down Vivienne’s pocket book. Behind him he heard her starting to walk up.

“Of course!” a woman with a thick Antivan accent said, “We’d love to be featured! I can get an interview with our owner, of course. I’ll call Ms. Cadash right away.” Bull and Cullen shared a knowing glance, but pretending as if Cullen was simply cleaning a glass from the dryer.

Vivienne took her seat, smiling at Cullen, “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” he said, “Thank you. Refill?” Vivienne nodded.

“A new drink, please. Fanciest you have, dear, for me and my friend,” she ordered, “I’m not sure what it will be, but surprise me. I don’t get to find such diamonds in the roughs, often.”

“Because you never go to them,” laughed Bull.

Cullen quickly got to work going through what they had until he actually managed to find a nice bottle of champagne which Vivienne said would do nicely. Vivienne toasted Bull for his find, though she admitted she was not going to be kind about the décor. Still, no matter how a place looked, good food would always be good food.

They made sure to tip Cullen handsomely. And, if he found a slip of paper with a string of digits on them, well… Bull would leave it up to him to call.

#da drunk writing circle #dadwc #prompt #da #dai #cullen rutherford #the iron bull #iron bull #ironlion

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

Text

Bad Boy (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff, and a lil spice ;), No quirk!AU

Summary: You finally get to see your childhood friend Shouto after years of being separated only to find out he’s completely changed.

BGM: “Younger” by Ruel

Word count: 2,781

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: God this photo fucked me up good when I first saw it.

I saw this picture on my search for images for my last Todo post aaaaand yeah, pretty self explanatory. I got to thinking, what if this poor baby finally snapped one day and was like "FUCK ENDEAVOR AND HIS ENTIRE PROGRAM, IM NOBODY'S MASTERPIECE" and he went the complete opposite direction. So enjoy a little bit of OOC Todoroki and a bit of a longer post than my usual stuff!

I’m really really sorry about not updating in the past few days. I was really swamped by college work and studying, and I was mentally exhausted and physically tired every day. Today wasn’t my day and I almost had a breakdown because a lot of things piled up in me, but I had to pull myself together somehow. Hopefully, after this week, I’ll go back to a somewhat regular posting schedule. Thanks for being patient with me guys, I really appreciate it :)

When my mom told me Shouto will be going to the same high school as me, I was expecting the same buttoned-up, shy, good boy from elementary school. Oh boy, was I wrong.

The boy I bump into in the hallway definitely looks like Shouto, but the only thing that's the same is his mismatched hair and eyes. Everything else about him was much different. His entire energy was different, even from the fraction of a second I focused on his face.

"Shouto?" I call when he's about to brush past me.

I don't think he's expecting someone to know him on the first day, pausing and looking down curiously.

The most shocking feature of all is the scar on his left side, a red blotch that covers the left side of his face, starkly contrasting his brilliant turquoise eye; a single ray of light in a scarlet sky.

As I'm gaping at the puckered skin, his eyebrows furrowing at my face as recognition slowly dawns on him. "(Y/n)?"

I'm relieved that he at least remembers me. "Yeah, hey." I don't really know what to do now. My first instinct is to hug him, but something tells me he isn't a fan of that sort of thing anymore. There's a coldness between us that's thick as a knife. "How have you been?"

"Fine," he answers curtly. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, leaning back in a way that seems uncharacteristic of him and more like a ruffian.

Does his not want to talk to me? I don't blame him, I haven't been in his life for a good eight years. "How are your parents?"

His jaw clenches. "Fine."

Oh. I struck a nerve. "Do you wanna catch up at lunch? What class are you in?"

"1-A." Overjoyed that we share the same class, I'm about to open my mouth, but he interjects, "But I don't think we should talk." That was the last thing he said before he strolls past me.

I'm stunned, following his receding back through the sea of students. I guess I shouldn't have brought up his parents when I know it's a sensitive topic, but I didn't know what else to say. And it's probably awkward to see someone you used to be close to talk to you again, but the least he could've been is polite. That's saying something, because Shouto was always the polite child.

Something is terribly wrong here.

Shouto has definitely changed since we were younger. He's become a delinquent.

He never even shows up to class. After our little encounter, he was slumped in his seat until the teacher finished role call, then he just got up and walked out in the middle of class and never came back. In all the days after that, his seat remained empty even at the beginning of the day.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. What if he happened to get sick and had to stay home? Then I saw his signature mismatched tuft of hair walking back home in the school yard, and I knew he was skipping.

After a whole two weeks passed of him skipping, I had enough. The Shouto I know would never cut class even if his life depended on it. During lunch, I went looking for him in the group of other delinquent kids in the back of the school.

"Todoroki?" the ash-blond ringleader ruffles his hair and scoffs, "Idiot must be off somewhere by himself like the damn loner he is. He picked a fight with me and I almost beat his ass into oblivion!"

I ball my fists up, more angry at Shouto than the group of boys eyeing me like a pack of wolves. "You guys are useless," I mumble, about to turn away from them.

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, sweetie?" the honey blond with a black streak in his hair smoothly wraps an arm around me. "He probably doesn't care about you, you deserve someone else who'll give you his time."

"Fuck off, who said you can touch me?" I shove his arm away and step back.

"Calm down there," the red head with sharp teeth taunts with a smirk, "You're getting a bit defensive. You sure you don't need help looking for your little prince?"

"I'm fine on my own, thanks," I huff, turning around to go look for Shouto elsewhere.

"Maybe I'll come with you," the overly-friendly boy blocks my way again. "If he's not your boyfriend, maybe we can get together sometime?"

"Not interested. Out of my way, Pikachu reject." I try to side-step him, but the leader grabs the back of my collar and whips me around so I'm face to face with his bared teeth.

"You're a bit rude, aren't you? Should I pull your head out your ass for you?" His crimson eyes glare his murderous intent into me.

I hold my ground, the anger against my irresponsible friend more powerful than any fear of this hothead possibly hurting me. "Don't act so tough if your talk is cheap."

He cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with me. "I'll show you cheap talk. Try waking up next week after I'm done with you!" he snarls.

I mirror his expression. I don't mind throwing hands at this guy if I have to, blood rushing through me to prepare for the fist fight. "I dare you-!"

"Enough, (Y/n)."

I can feel his presence right behind me even though he doesn't physically touch me.

Scarlet eyes shift behind me. "Took you long enough, hot shot. Your friend has just as much spunk as you, I'll kick both your asses!"

"I'd like to see you try, Bakugou," Shouto responds coldly. "We both know who'd win." Keeping his gaze locked on the aggressive male, he harshly grabs my arm and hauls me away. "Let's go."

I'm fuming with anger when we're back inside the building. I turn on him when he finally releases me, but he's already starting down the hall. "Don't walk away from me! We need to talk!" I stomp over, following him to an abandoned classroom. "What the hell is wrong with you?! First of all, you were a real ass when I talked to you last week. Second of all, you're not even coming to class like you should. And now you're already picking fights with that idiot out there? What's gotten into you Shouto?!"

"You were about to get into a fight as well. You should thank me," he comments coldly, slipping into a desk with books open on top.

"I could've handled it just fine without you! The only reason I was even there talking to them was because I was looking for you!" I hover over him, glaring down so he can tell how angry I am. "You'e skipped class all week, this isn't like you at all! How are you supposed to catch-?"

One glance down the the open books shows all the material we've been going over in class. He's already caught up to today's lesson, writing notes in his book and ignoring my presence. The entire setup makes me angrier. "I don't understand you, Shouto. What kind of act are you trying to pull? You're not a delinquent, why are you trying to act like one for everyone else? Or is this all because you're just trying to ignore me?"

His pencil stops moving and it slams down onto the desk. "A lot happened since you left, (Y/n)," the boy responds. His quivering voice indicates restriction of intense emotion.

The hurt is apparent across his entire face, calming me down. My gaze lingers on the left side of his features, over the eye that somehow looks perpetually sad. "How did you get that scar, Shouto?"

The boy's eyebrows furrow. "My father never let up on me after you left, and he got worse. My mother couldn't handle fighting him on her own anymore. One day, she snapped, told me how unsightly my left side was, and pouring boiling water over my face." His large hand gingerly covers his reddened skin. "And my bastard father put her in a mental institution after that. He did this."

My heart aches for my childhood friend, the boy I took care of and listened to all his problems. I can't imagine how much pain Rei was going through. For her to have lost it, she must've held such a heavy burden. When I had to move away, I felt so guilty about leaving him with all his troubles. He had no one else to reach out to and it was snatched from him. There wasn't a day I stopped thinking and worrying over him. I reach to take his hand and offer comfort. "Shou-"

Shouto bolts up from his seat, his taller figure hunching over mine, features screwed up in distaste. "You weren't there when I needed you most."

I'm taken back, hurt more than anything. "It's not my fault, we were so much younger, I didn't have a choice but to go with my parents."

A dark chuckle erupts from his lips, dismissing my excuses. "It's fine. It happened, I've learned to deal with it."

I'm about to blow my top with this kid. "Yeah, you've dealt really well, haven't you?" I roll my eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My mouth gapes, letting out a sputtered scoff. "You're kidding. Just look at you! You're pretending to be someone you're not! You and I both know you were never the bad boy type when we were kids. You're the slightly awkward, naturally smart, driven, hardworking-"

"I was only those things because my father forced them on me," he passes by me, crossing his arms. "I don't want to be anything that bastard wants anymore. And if you can't see that, then we were never friends in the first place."

That's a stab in the chest. How can he say that we were never friends when we used to do everything together? A surge of fury rushing through me, I grab his arm to keep him from moving any farther. "You love watching superhero cartoons, your favorite was All Might. Sometimes, you're so damn lazy that instead of doing homework when you came home, you would sneak in a nap before your dad came home to see you slacking off. Your favorite food in the entire world is cold soba. You don't like extremely sweet desserts. You've always been insecure about how strange your mismatched hair and eyes look, but I always had to assure you that you're still the most handsome guy in our class."

Shouto halfway turns around to look at me.

"If we weren't friends, why do I know so much about you?" I take another bold step towards him, softening at the underlying pain etched into his features. "I know you always hated the way your dad expects so much from you. The only thing you ever wanted in your childhood was to be normal. The pressure finally crumbled down on you and your mom, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through it. But you shouldn't abandon everything that you are. You took after your mom more than your dad; you're sometimes a sassy son of a bitch, but you're kind and have a deep respect for people you admire. You have a natural sense of humor that you don't even know you have. You care about the people you're close to, you only struggle with communicating how you feel sometimes."

His lips part slightly, processing everything I just showered onto him. Guilt eventually creeps up on him, choosing to rub the back of his neck. "You...always did know just what to say."

I smirk and engulf him into my long-awaited hug. "Who else would put you back in your place?"

His arms hesitantly wrap around my body, the act of sharing body warmth strange yet familiar to him. It's a small victory, but I'm relieved that we're back on speaking terms. I'm ready to resume protecting him as I should.

Shouto shifts in our embrace. "You said...I struggle with telling people how I feel...?" he mumbles sheepishly near my ear.

My boy perks with confusion. "Yeah, even when we first-"

"Would it suffice if..."

Before I can turn to search his face for what he could be implying, his grip around me loosens as he pulls back to look at me, one of his warm hands resting against my cheek. His face looms right in front of me, my breath catching in surprise, before he presses his lips to mine softly. The weightlessness in my stomach is unmistakable.

As quick and unexpected as it came, it also left, Shouto's half lidded gaze resting on me from a small distance away. All I can do is stare off dazed, still trying to process what just happened.

He leans back against the nearest desk in the front row. "I guess I should've asked first." I can see his cheeks and his ears turn almost as flushed as the color of his hair despite his hand covering half his face to hide it. "But it was the only way I can think to get my point across without stumbling over words."

My heart still flutters trying to recover back to normal, my knees shaking as I lean against the teacher's desk for stability. I resist the urge to touch my lips like a shocked schoolgirl, but I'm still trying to process the whole thing. "You know," I cough, "We did already kiss when we were like...five, so this wasn't really our first. But I don't usually count that-"

The intense color fades from his face almost at once, a darkness creeping into his gaze. "Then," he pins me back into the desk, hands on both sides of the wood to trap me, "I shouldn't have any qualms about doing it again."

Contrasting from his strong setup, his next kiss is still shy and hesitant. After exchanging a couple more tentative lip-caresses that still make my head spin, he's gotten his feet wet enough to go harder, establishing a rhythm between us. As his kisses intensify, his hands reach up to cup both sides of my nape, fingers tangling in my hair desperately and tilting my head up for a better angle. My own hands grasp the collar of his uniform, pulling him closer into the heat of the moment.

His body pushes me practically into sitting on top of the desk, moving one of his knees between my legs as he lets ones of his hands roam down to grip my waist. The sudden tug elicits a minute gasp, allowing Shouto to nip at my bottom lip before tugging my head back to trail soft kisses down my jaw. My fingers thread through his soft locks, letting him massage my neck with his mouth.

"W-Where did you learn all this?" I breathe out unsteadily, my breath refusing to return.

He straightens up and captures my lips in another slow kiss. "You'll never know." Another one. "I've admittedly imagined this for a while." The next kiss is much deeper, a hum vibrating from his chest as his fingers dig into my side again. "You're special, so dear." His mumbles between kisses become more incoherent as his kisses become messy.

"Shouto." I finally manage to push him away for me to breathe and calm my dizzy head. Both of us are panting. His half-lidded eyes and flushed face tempt me, but the fear of someone walking by suddenly alerts in my mind. "Someone might see us. Besides, isn't there something you need to say?"

His brow lifts. "I'm...sorry for being rude to you last week."

"That was needed, too," I chuckle, "But there's something else."

Confusion crosses his features. "Have I done something else wrong?"

My hands slide down to grip his hands. "Don't you need to ask me to date you officially?"

The tint of rose on his cheeks intensifies a shade. "I thought it was clear already..."

Another chuckle bubbles from my lips and I lean up to kiss his warm cheek. "I'll let it pass because I want to date you too." His face begins to light up in joy, but I push off from the desk and tow him out of the room. "But you have to start coming to class again."

Shouto catches up to keep pace with me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Done."

"And you need to see a therapist, Mr. Bad Boy."

He breaks out into a smile at that nickname. "I'll think about it."

#todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #no quirks au #todoroki angst #angst to fluff #gender neutral reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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scandeniall · 4 years

Text

sobbing in cabo

pairing: oikawa x reader

summary/warnings: how could you be in the most beautiful place you’d ever been yet feel so terrible?/ just language. tiniest mention of alcohol

wc: 1.3k

It’s a paradise. Waves kissed the shore languidly. It was a song sweeter than any lullaby you’d ever heard. Distant waves shimmered, a mixture of sliver, blue and green. The seagulls chattered overhead and you wondered what they could possibly be saying.

The setting sun was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Similar to a watercolor painting the Cotton candied clouds melted seamlessly into the tangerine sky. The hotels balcony gave you a front row seat to all this and more. You should be in paradise. So why did you feel so bitter? Distant laughing from travel goers did nothing but cause your eyes to roll in disgust. They were so happy. Kids pranced around dragging their parents to some new sea find. Friends posed in front of the water snapping memories that’d last a lifetime. You’d practically gagged at the sight of couples going for their sunset walks on the beach. A glimmer in your peripheral took your eyes from their people watching. A soft greeting attempted to lighten your mood. Instead, you took the offered glass drowning the drink in one gulp. Disgust graced your face at the burn now present in the back of your throat. “That was disgusting.” “It was expensive.” His voice grew stronger as did his presence. You felt the sudden warmth gifted from the way he stood next to you. Arms crossed over the railing as he eyed the sand below. The two of you took in the sounds around you before he spoke up. “I’m sorry you know.”

“Of course you are.” The words are bitter on your tongue. You hear the sigh from beside you, as you roll your eyes. “You know Tooru. This spot is a dream come true. It should be a paradise, so I wonder why it feels anything but.” Your voice trails off as you catch sight of a couple in the distance. It appears to be mid proposal. The lovers running into each other's arms into a sweet embrace and your jaw locks in pure jealousy. God how you wanted that.

Oikawa eyes seem to spot the couple as well. His gaze shifts several times between them and you. He bites back his own annoyance, knowing it’d make things worse. He has to carefully choose his next words. “I’m trying here (Y/N). I really am but you're not even giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

He's cut off by your humorless laugh. “If you call this trying, then I’d hate to see not.” You finally tear your eyes from the couple to face him. You almost feel bad for the attitude until your met with his look of exasperation. Suddenly you're reminded of the purpose of your vacation in the first place. “You’re the reason we’re here anyway. We’re supposed to be spending time together, working on us. Yet you’re doing the same shit-”

“(Y/n)-”

“No.” You immediately cut him off, putting your arm up to prevent him from reaching out towards you. “You're never here Oikawa. Even on our vacation. There’s always someone for you to go meet up with who you haven’t seen in so long. Or another stupid pickup game. I’m tired of coming last in your life.”

When he says nothing, in an attempt to gather his thoughts you figure, you huff in annoyance. He had nothing to say. Your attempt at exiting the balcony is ruined when callused fingers grip onto your wrist. “I don’t know what you even want from me. You agreed to this when you agreed to us.”

His words come out harsher than he’d intended. There was a flash of regret in his eyes that occurred once you snatched your arm away. He watched your movements carefully. He noticed how you went to speak at least three times, before closing your mouth. Each time was accompanied by a shake of your head.

He watched how your brows would furrow then soften as you mentally calm yourself down. You were likely doing the countdown exercise he taught you harly on. It was something he’d learned right after highschool as a means to relax and focus. The faintest of memories of how he’d pepper hisses across your forehead to make you laugh when he annoyed you crossed his mind. It was something that seemed so far in the past and he shook the thought away. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.” You tell him calmly as the glass door slides open. Youre both met with the coolness of the blasting AC and he notices the shiver that runs down your spine at the temperature difference. There's no surprise as he follows after you, eyes narrowing at how you seem to be gathering some of your belongings scattered around the hotel room. It quickly dawns on him that you appear to be packing. “What are you gonna run away instead of us talking about this?” Oikawa feels himself slightly panicking at the thought, yet forces himself to stay just as headstrong as before. “We still have more days here.”

“You do. I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve been looking at flights back home. You insisted we come here to fix us, but this is useless.” Oikawa notes the difference in your tone. You’d drop the combativeness and attitude. This time its replaced with disappointment. “I don’t even know why I thought shit would be different just because we’re across the world. Its so beautiful here and I can’t even enjoy it with you.”

Oikawa knows better than to approach you. He just knew that it’d make things worse. Right? He settles on the edge of the bed as you continue fluttering around the room. “Just stay an extra day with me. We can talk about this tomorrow. Just me and you yeah?” He lets out the quietest sigh of relief at your nod. At some point he’d grabbed your hand and you hadn’t pulled away.

“I’m gonna go take a shower ok?” Oikawa only offers your hand a slight squeeze in response. The smile you offer him is empty and you’re not even sure you miss the warmth once he lets go of your hand.

The sun is nearly completely down once you get out of the shower. Your’e surprised to even see your boyfriend still in the room. You’d been in Cabo for about a week now and he’d gone out without you nearly every day. You wordlessly climb into the bed next to him eyes hyperfocused on the TV. The space between you two feels momentous. The two of you are on opposite sides of the king sized bed.

Your heads are in two different but similar places. You two still loved each other, but is that enough. You’re young adults, still growing and changing. Continuing to chase your dreams and perhaps you were growing out of each other. He was never around anymore and unknowingly pushed you into the bottom of his priority list.

You’d wanted nothing more than to support him, but you needed more. You needed someone to tell you that they were proud of you. Someone who would put you first even if for one day. He couldn’t seem to do that. Not right now at least.

That night as the two of you laid in darkness. Every once in a while if you listened carefully enough you’d hear the distant music from some likely party. You just knew the way the moon reflected off the sea was breathtaking. As you thought about the past 3 years with Oikawa and how you would've loved for this vacation to mend your relationship, you teared up. How could you be in the most beautiful place you’d ever been in and wanted nothing more than to cry. Never did you think you’d be biting back your tears in Cabo.

a/n: uh yeah im very nervous about writing oiks and not doing him justice bc hes such a unique character but here we are. the 1st of my few non happy pieces. Inspired by Blackbear’s newest project (title is literally the song; sobbing in mexico. this is only loosely based/ more so just the vibe over the lyrics so yeah)

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #oikawa imagine #hq imagines #hq headcanons #oikawa toru x reader

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obscureoperations · 4 years

Note

Martin being touched starved and finally getting the affection that he didn't know he wanted or needed and then never wanting to let it go

This went on a bit longer than I thought it would and it might have spun off into two different directions. I was gonna do this as a headcannon but then I started typing, um, here ya go.

Martin wasn’t sure about much in his life, but he was sure that he wanted you. He wanted you in the purest sense of the word, he wanted to give himself to you completely. Around you he finally felt at ease. He was calm, there was no more pressure in his head, his mind was no longer constantly racing. There was only you and your soothing presence, and the ever present warmth that radiated from your skin.

In the beginning things were different, it was like he was afraid to be in the same room. You danced around each other like cats, at that point you were pretty sure he hated you. You would always be cordial, giving him the benefit of the doubt--his behavior most likely had something to do with your godfather. He would always watch you when he thought you weren't aware little did he know you were aware of his every move. You could even sense that he wanted to come closer --but there was always the lingering doubt. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. At times you really hated the old man.

You never pushed or pried, happy to give him all the space he needed. It was after about two weeks that you noticed a change. Usually when you entered the room he would automatically leave. Or, he would exit the moment you’d step in. But one day, it was after you had gotten back from work, your bag rested on the kitchen table. You were tired--so tired, your feet practically had their own pulse, all you wanted was a moment to decompress. After a few moments the screen door swung open as Martin made his way into the room. The second he spotted you, he paused in mid step, regarding you with an unreadable expression. You reach for your bag already preparing to leave, but then you notice he wasn’t already turning away. Instead he regards you for a second longer before glancing away leisurely making his way towards the sink.

You were utterly confused for a moment, should you leave? You weren’t even bothered that you had to walk on eggshells in your own house. You just wanted to understand. There was so much you wanted to learn about Martin-- you just wanted to put him at ease. You watch as he rummages through the cabinets for a glass-- he turns the faucet on filling it with water. He takes a sip before placing it down, only halfway glancing over his shoulder. After a moment, he takes out another glass filling up placing it on the table in front of you. And with that he was gone.

The next few days were just the same, he seemed less bothered by your presence. You would speak to him here and there, just a casual greeting-- he would go as far as to nod his head. It was ...progress in your opinion, definitely progress. You had already decided that the two of you may never be close, but you at least wanted him to be comfortable enough in his new home. He would look at you more, no longer glancing away when you spotted him. There was that same unreadable expression. What was he thinking? Despite the oddness of the situation, his gaze never came across as disconcerting. It was almost like he was trying to figure you out. What did he want to know, all he had to do was ask.

He began to speak to you, though he never initiated the conversation. His replies were always one word answers. He seemed perfectly content with listening to you-- if he wasn’t going to say anything, he was going to listen. Aside from Christina, you were the only one who acknowledged him in the house. For the most part Cuda just pretended he wasn’t there. One day, the two of you were in the living room actually seated together on the couch, his attention would shift between your rant about work and the magazine in his hand. “ I mean, I don't mind closing by myself once in a while, but if I leave a list.. Thats what needs to be done!” At this point he had placed his magazine aside as he regards you with a curious expression. With a sigh, you run your fingers through your hair before sparing him a brief glance. You felt the heat begin to rise to your face at your own endless ranting. Now you were the one who was probably being rude, he was clearly trying to read. But then you saw it-- so faint but it was there, was he actually smiling? Nearly undetectable, it touched the corners of his lips, and then he spoke up “You should quit…” He was right. It wasn’t the most impolite way to say shut up. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t like it there do you?” “Well, no.” “Then quit--” You were about to mutter some kind of excuse, when the two of you heard the sound of the back door swing open. Cuda was home, and MArtin quickly excused himself up stairs. Did the two of you actually have a conversation?

Things seemed to flow more naturally from there, he began to speak to you more and more. He would ask you questions-- he left them pretty open ended. And he would just sit there and listen to what you had to say. At times he would almost appear to be in a daze, as though your voice had put him into a translike state. “Martin?” He would thoughtfully nod his head “ And then what did you do?”

At times he would stand close to you, perhaps closer than he needed to. It didn’t feel odd or off putting in the slightest-- in fact you actually wanted him to come closer. Something about the way the heat would emanate from his skin. Close enough that you could smell the clean cotton fabric of his shirt. If he liked to listen to you, then you surely liked to be near him just as much. His nearness was almost intoxicating.

The two of you began to have talks out on the porch, most of the time after dinner. Cuda would be preparing to meet with some of the men from church, and Christina most likely had a date with Arthur. For the most part the two of you talked about mundane things, he even started to tell you about working at the shop. You would throw subtle jabs at the older women he worked with, you considered it a feat whenever you got him to smile. As time went by, the two of you would draw closer-- at this point it was unclear who initiated it. It was like an invisible string pulling the two of you together. You were nearly arm and arm at this point, and for some reason you had this overwhelming urge to rest your head on his shoulder. You refrained of course, but he was silent now. You hadn’ even noticed when he stopped talking. You could feel it, it was the oddest sensation, he was so close you could almost feel his pulse. That was impossible, but it was almost as though your breath had synced. He speaks up suddenly, startling you out of your reprieve.” y/n, Im sorry.” Sorry? “For what Martin?”

He’s silent for a moment so you tilt your head in an attempt to read his expression. His head was downcast, brown hair falling into his eyes--you had to resist the urge to brush it away from his forehead. “For how I acted earlier. I- in the beginning. I don’t hate you… you know that right?” Something coiled inside, he sounded so innocent in that moment--as though he actually believed you were upset with him. Tentatively you reach out placing a hand on his shoulder, he flinches, but doesn’t move away. “Martin… can you look at me?” He doesn’t respond. “Could you look at me..please?” Slowly he turns to face you, eyes still downcast you could have sworn you felt him start to tremble. You place your hand on his other shoulder squeezing gently, beckoning him to look at you. You had to be careful, you didn’t want to push him too far, but he had to understand. When he finally meets your gaze, he looks almost frightened-- as though he expected you to lash out and strike him. “Come here…” you offer quietly as your hands carefully ease to his waist. Just resting them there, you can feel him shift closer-- your heart was threatening to leap out of your chest. “ Closer… It's okay…” Ever so slowly, you allow your arms to encircle his waist before lightly resting your head against his chest. He remains there frozen for a moment-- so lightheaded he thought he might faint. You were so small and warm even in comparison to his slight frame. You smelled heavenly, was that your shampoo? He didn’t know what he should do with his hands, surely you didn’t want him to touch you? Getting a bit bolder, you press in close enough that your entire front was pressed against his chest. Your arms wrap around him a bit more securely, you could feel his heartbeat thundering in your ears. Please let this be okay…

You were almost about to ask that very question when a small noise escapes his throat. So faint it was between a gasp and a sigh-- but soon enough his arms gently encircle your waist.

He was reeling, mind spinning off into a thousand different directions, what were you doing? Why would you possibly want to touch him? Weren’t you afraid? He was dreaming, that had to be it! There was no other reasonable explanation. No way to explain why you were pulling him closer-- hands soothingly roaming across his back. A small whimper dies in his throat--he hopes to god you didn’t notice. He instinctively draws your near, resting his cheek against the top of your head. So warm and alive. He could feel the gentle beat of your heart--you smelt so lovely, he thought he might die. He allows himself to repeat the action, lightly smoothing his hands over your back. The small content sigh that escapes your lips has him holding you all the much tighter.

You remain that was for what feels like an eternity, but in reality it was less than a minute. You were practically melded against his chest, face now resting at the crook of his neck--and his heart was already yours. After a moment you speak, he could feel your breath ghost along his neck causing goosebumps to bloom across the delicate flesh. “I'm really glad you’re here “

#martin(1977)#martin/reader #george a. romero #asks #anon #imagines #Ive had tooo much caffiene #and my back hurts....#pls help

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the-omni-princess · 5 years

Text

Frozen Heart [Chapter 8]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary: After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

Word Count: 5.2K

Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)

Warnings: Absolute and utter fluff!, badass!reader, mild language, a self-harm mention (not reader), Nudity but no smut

A/N:

I’m back! With so much fluff you’ll cry!

So, I have legit like four chapters done so if it all goes well I’ll be posting one a day, plus some one-shots I did!

No smut yet, but I got a one-shot smut Im posting tomorrow and then this series getting smutty :D but 18+ only or you’ll be getting blocked

[Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

----

Light flooded the once dark room as Natasha opened the curtains. You groaned, turning to your side and pulling a pillow over your eyes. "Five more minutes!" You cried out, your voice gruff with sleep.

Wanda poked her head out of the bathroom to speak, "Rise and shine! You need a bit of a pick-me-up so here I am, your bath is already drawn, and I'll be washing and braiding your hair."

You took a peek from underneath your pillow that sheltered you from the harsh morning light. "With the oils and perfume Pietro brought over?" You asked in a whisper, still desperate for sleep, but slowly being coaxed out of bed.

Wanda nodded, "One time offer so hurry up!"

"I'm coming!" You conceded, stretching your back, and letting the pillow fall off your face.

Five minutes later you were laying in the bath, Wanda washing your hair, her nails scratching your scalp as she shampooed your strands. You groaned softly, melting into her palms as you sipped on your coffee.

"So, y/n," Natasha, who was sitting beside the tub, doing your nails on your free hand, started to say. "How's the King treating you?"

You sighed softly, "I should have known you two were up to something, this sort of pampering only comes before events or when you're buttering me up," you teased. It had been about three months since you had moved up North with Bucky, and the seasons had shifted to autumn, the mountains already had more snow on top of them, bringing the cold to you. Bucky was swept up in work, busy trying to make sure the kingdom had enough in storage to last the winter. In the morning he would rush to meetings, and in the evenings when he could, he would find you around the castle. You were slowly familiarizing yourself in the halls, the passageways had a lot of wrong turns that could throw someone off, which just reminded you of your garden maze back in the South.

So far Bucky had been spoiling you rotten, and despite the multitude of interruptions, he was trying his hardest to spend time with you. He had managed to sneak himself away to give you a silver constellation necklace on a small golden chain, the constellation his birth was tied to, a necklace that never left your neck. He was still working on the greenhouse, but with his help, you managed to fix up the library, including a new window seat with pillows and fur-lined blankets.

You still remember the day you had found his personal study, the place he mentioned he destroyed during a rampage when he first came back from the War. It was an utter mess, books and maps littered the floor, the desk had splintered, and one wall had a hole in it, left behind most likely by his metal arm punching it. You immediately started to clean up the room, and that's how he found you that night, asleep, curled up against the desk, clutching a map of the Southern and Northern Kingdoms, the room mostly cleaned up. He had picked you up and tried to tuck you into bed, but you only buried yourself deeper into his arms, happy for the extra warmth.

You had also begun to bring warmth to the castle, one that you had heard the maids whispering about once. Naturally grown flowers from the nearby village were found in multiple rooms, scented candles from the lovely old lady two villages down the mountain, even representatives from other nations had mentioned the life seeping into the palace. You even had constellation lights added into your chambers, a fact only a select few people knew, and a new book on Morse code since you found out Bucky and Steve learned it in the War.

You had also frequently checked in with Steve, who sent Scott with you since he only trusted a few personal guards with your life, and Scott already knew the Northern Kingdom since his daughter Cassie lived with her mom and stepdad in the North. Steve was also doing perfectly fine as King, making you prouder than ever, and finally had a date with the Lady in court he had been eyeing.

Yet despite the many attempts you had of making this new home, well homely, something always felt missing. Love. Bucky. Always busy, always tiring himself out, wearing himself out too thin, he put the needs of the people and you above his own. You told as much to Natasha and Wanda, the latter having moved on to conditioning your hair now.

"I love him, gods, I absolutely adore him, but he needs to think of himself every once in a while. He has too many duties, taking on everything at once, and I have a feeling that's why you two are currently pampering me," you looked towards Natasha, who had a smirk on her face.

"You're reading my mind, y/n/n," she teased. "A King needs a Queen, henceforth, we are making you one. He has a meeting with his advisors today about increasing the storage for the grains to survive the winter. We both know you have been working on a plan, a good one, but you're too scared to tell him outright."

Wanda combed out your hair, massaging oils into your scalp as she spoke next. "Show everyone you will be a magnificent queen. Today, you're not going to just look like a queen, you're going to act like one. They won't respect you until you show them you're not some show pony princess from the south."

You smiled faintly, "You two are always scheming behind my back, but it is a good idea. Finally, be heard, be in charge, pull some of the weight of the duties off of Bucky, spend more time with him," you sighed and melted against Wanda's magical hands again. "Let's be a Queen." You whispered softly.

You let the two do their utter best, and by the end of it, you looked absolutely regal. A simple pink lace evening dress, and a tiara made of crystals on your head, you held back a proud smirk when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The tiara was made of rose gold, which caught the light when you moved, just enough to catch people's attention without being flashy. You finished the look with the constellation necklace Bucky had given you, which shone brightly against the pink lace.

You pushed your shoulders back, and held your head up high, deciding to use your best regal look, one you had perfected over the years. You entered the strategy room, all eyes going towards you. Advisors circled the table, maps, and plans along the table, with Bucky at the head of the table. Everyone was standing and considering the red faces of more than one advisor, you had interrupted a rather heated fight. You locked eyes with Bucky, who instantly smiled as he saw you, the cold expression he had when you walked in had melted just at the sight of you.

You took your time walking towards his side of the table, standing towards his left as you would if you were seated on thrones, taking your time to address the table. "Good afternoon, my Love," you happily kissed Bucky's now clean shave cheek. He had decided to go for the haircut and shaved after all, with hair just long enough for you to get your hands through it. You then turned to the advisors, "Good afternoon everyone, I have decided to join you all." You smiled warmly, leaving no room for disagreement, full well knowing you would still get some. Bucky looked at you a bit confused but also in awe, taking in the new order in stride, trusting you fully.

His advisors, however, weren't as welcome. "With all due respect, princess, we are speaking about a matter that does not concern you," a white-haired official spoke up, you recognized as Baron Ross. Despite Bucky's surprise of your presence, he knew Natasha and Scott had been teaching you everything to know about Northern Politics, including all the nobles and advisors in court, and who to be wary of.

"Well, Baron Ross, it does concern me. I may have been born in the Southern Kingdom, but the people of the Northern Kingdom will be my people soon enough. Unless you are saying that feeding said people is a topic that should not concern the leader of the people, I should and will be here." You kept your head held up high, determined not to show the fear in your heart that they wouldn't like you. It doesn't matter what they think, you reminded yourself, Bucky chose you and that's all that matters.

Another representative, one you couldn't see, spoke up. "Then what do you suppose you could do about the problem at hand? What could you possibly know about the situation?"

You bit back the growl growing in the back of your throat, Bucky wasn't as suppressed, you could see him tense, no doubt about to lash out at the man who questioned your ability. You gently placed your hand on top of his metal hand that was gripping the table. He visibly relaxed, as the metal had sensors to fire into his nerves, something you had asked Shuri once, and your very touch soothed him.

"Well, I know you have all been bickering about the food storage for the past month. Quarreling like children will only hinder the people instead of yourselves as we all know the Royal and Noble silos have been full for months. Besides, I've been working on a solution that will help the people that all parties should benefit from." You effectively shut the rest of the table up, and all eyes were on you as you explained your idea. Halfway through, Bucky had intertwined your hands together, letting you take charge of the room with his silent support. By the time they closed for the day, you had a fully functional plan and agreement in place that suited everyone's needs while also helping the kingdom.

You walked hand in hand with Bucky, who was in complete awe of you. "You were absolutely amazing, My Love! You going to be a magnificent Queen, you practically already are one!" He gushed, making you blush.

"Took a little push from my ladies but they were right, it's time I help ease the burden upon your shoulders, My Love," you kissed his cheek playfully, glancing behind you towards the personal guards flanking you, new ones you noticed. "What shall we do with our new free time?"

His face lit up, no doubt a grand idea forming in his head. "Follow me, it's time I introduce you to somebody," he sounded excited, already tugging you outside to where the Royal animals were kept.

He whistled once inside, his grip on your hand faltering as he took a step forward. A flash of pure white bounded towards the two of you, jumping into Bucky and knocking him backward. You yelped as his hand was ripped away from you, but all you could hear was his laughter as he wrestled with the white fur on top of him. It took you a moment to realize it was a pure white wolf attacking Bucky with kisses. He finally managed to sit up, and your heart melted at the sight before you. The juvenile wolf was still nipping at him, kissing his face, and yipping happily as he rubbed her ears and muzzle. A breathless Bucky looked up towards you, the bundle of fur managing to tire herself out, now curled up in his lap, definitely too big to fit there but managing to crush him anyway. "This is Aurora, my wolf, she's still a pup but she's already fiercely loyal, and ball of energy," he cooed at the wolf pup, who just whined and nuzzled into the hand scratching her ear.

You knelt beside the two, noticing how the wolf bared her teeth towards you as you got closer to Bucky. "She's absolutely beautiful," you said softly. Bucky gently took your hand in his own, presenting it to the wolf. She sniffed at you warily before nudging your palm with her muzzle. Bucky led your hand, gently brushing the wolf's fur. She was softer than most of the furs in your bed, and soon she closed her eyes, trusting that Bucky wouldn't let you hurt her. She whined softly, and as Bucky let your hand go, she relaxed against your hand, happily letting you scratch behind her ears. Bucky couldn't help but smile, overjoyed Aurora loved you. You sat beside him, Aurora nudging herself onto your lap to enjoy your affection. You cooed at the wolf, "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Such a good Wolfie, so soft and pretty!" The wolf in question melted against you, practically purring in your arms.

Bucky whistled, and her ears perked, but she stayed contentedly in your arms. "She loves you more than me!" He accused dramatically.

You laughed, shrugging, "I'm just that amazing," you teased, giving Bucky a toothy grin.

He chuckled, standing up, "There's someone else you need to meet," when you looked up, you noticed how nervous he was. He tried whistling again, a different tone, and Aurora slowly got up, still looking towards you with her golden eyes. She curled into a ball beside you but now off of your lap, causing Bucky to groan. "Yep, you're definitely the favorite."

You giggled, running your fingers through her fur as she whimpered happily. "So, who is this new person I need to meet?" You asked happily, grinning up at him.

He smiled bashfully, "Wait here, close your eyes, My Love," he leaned over and kissed your temple just as you closed your eyes. You had your hands on your lap, hearing him shuffling around, and the voice of one of the animal keepers. He came back towards you and placed something small and furry in your arms before taking a step back. "Open your eyes, My Queen," he whispered into your ear, goosebumps raising, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You looked down, gasping softly at the small bundle of grey and black fur, a tiny wolf pup in your arms. You cooed, the pup looking up at you with bright blue eyes, which were just a shade lighter than Bucky's eyes. "Aw! You're the sweetest little thing!" You kept cooing, happily holding the pup close. She whined softly, relaxing into your arms, making you smile warmly at the pup. "What's her name?" You looked up at Bucky who was currently taking a picture of you and the pup, his own heart melting as he saw the bundle of fur curl into your body warmth. "Raine," he said with a grin, already putting his phone away and sitting beside you again. "It means Queen. This cutie was born four months ago, and we were waiting for her eyes to open so she could meet you. In another month, she starts her training and before you know it, she'll be attached to your hip like Aura is to me." He was smiling proudly, and the pup whined softly, diverting your attention to the pup.

"You precious pup!" You kissed the wolf's head, who just whimpered, nudging her muzzle into your cheek. You showered the pups with kisses and affection, practically purring loving words towards them. Both wolves eagerly soaked up your affection.

"Technically, she's supposed to be a wedding gift, but I could help myself." Bucky tenderly pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling warmly towards you.

You launched at him, hugging him and kissing him gently, careful of the wolf pup in your arms. "Thank you! A million times, thank you, Bucky. She's absolutely precious! I love her so much, and I love Aurora so much, and most of all I love you so much!" You gushed, grinning at him.

He gave you a goofy smile, absolutely enamored by you, and he noticed the wolf pup yawning in your arms. "I believe it's this little one's bedtime," he kissed your temple once you two broke apart, and you stood gingerly, still clinging to the pup, walking beside him to put the pup to bed, Aurora staying close to your legs. "And you're welcome, My Moon and Stars," you grinned at the new pet name, your smile making him melt. You put the pup into the fur bed, Aurora curling herself around the pup protectively. "Aura practically adopted her," Bucky explained, taking your hand in his, smiling as the two of you walked back into the castle.

"They are absolutely gorgeous," you grinned up at him, holding yourself close to him. "What should we do now, My Love," you said softly, following him towards his chambers.

"How about a movie? We can finally watch that other movie you wanted me to watch, Moana, and I made sure that we both have tomorrow off." You said goodnight to the guards posted at the door to his chambers, grinning as the doors closed behind the two of you.

"So, an entire day with you all to myself?" You teased him, pressing yourself against the ornate wooden doors. "Sleep in, relax all day, kiss all day," he followed suit, leaning against you, your chests pressed together.

He tenderly laid his forehead against yours, your lips ghosting past each other. "I have a picnic I want to take you on, on this beautiful spot I think you'll adore."

Your lips curled up in a smile, "I'd love that," your hands ran up his chest, mapping his muscles out. "Kiss me, Bucky," you whispered softly, locking eyes.

He tilted your chin up, moving the inch closer to your lips, your lips melding against his. He pressed against you harder as you deepened the kiss; you sucked on his bottom lip, smirking at his resulting groan. His hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning them against the door, making your heart skip a beat.

You broke the kiss, taking a deep gulp of air, your chest heaving against him. Your corset wasn't really helping matters, the restrictive material making it hard to breathe. Bucky noticed, yelping as he took a step back, letting your arms go. "Shit, you can't breathe!" He fussed, his hands freezing right above the lace of your dress.

You nodded, "It's okay, help me out of this thing, before you try taking my breath away again," you teased. You walked a bit into the room, turning and shifting your hair to the side to expose the strings of the dress and corset underneath. You looked over your shoulder, Bucky standing there, frozen in place, unsure what to do. "It's okay Buck, I trust you," you encouraged him.

He stepped closer, but still didn't grab the strings. "I don't want to make you think you have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," he spoke in a meek voice.

"Like I said, My Love, I trust you. If I want you to stop anything, I'll tell you. If you think it's too far, just ask me and I'll answer," you gently led his arms to the edge of the strings. He nodded, tugging the beginning of the strings loose, you let out a harsh breath, instantly feeling better.

"May I kiss your skin, My Moon and Stars?" He whispered softly, his breath hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You managed a weak "yes," your body ready to relax against him in total trust. You felt his lips against your neck, just against your pulse point. You moaned softly, the gentle touches lighting your skin on fire. As he tugged more strings loose, he lightly kissed your neck and shoulders. Your eyes fluttered close, melting against him. "Tell me more about courting traditions," you murmured softly.

Bucky chuckled behind you, a bit confused by the complicated corset, but getting the hang of it. "Well, a courting starts with a silent promise written down. The person being courted can only read that promise during their wedding ritual. Any gender can start it towards any other gender and technically at any age, but it typically is done when they are both of age. Courting can take months, or years, or longer. Like how Dum Dum and his wife started courting when they were thirteen, and they married when he came back from the war." He loosened the last few strings of the dress, and you let it fall, now only in the corset and your panties.

"Keep going," you whispered softly. You felt Bucky nuzzle into your neck, kissing any skin he could find while he continued loosening the corset and speaking.

"The person doing the courting spoils the courted person, proving to them and to others that they can provide for them, physically, spiritually, mentally," he paused, kissing right below your ear on your soft spot, making you purr beneath him. "Sexually," he finished the corset strings, which had just enough give to stay on your body.

"Care for a bath instead of a movie? We don't have to do anything," you quickly added, letting your hand slip into his hair, gently carding through the strands. "You could tell me more about the rituals," you mumbled before noticing how silent he was at your idea. "What's wrong, My Love?" You asked softly, turning and quickly holding his face in your hands, running your thumbs across his cheeks soothingly.

He melted against your palms with a small sigh. "You won't like what you see when I am not clothed," he whispered softly. It didn't take a genius to realize he was ashamed of his scars.

"Nonsense, I love you, not for your looks but for your heart," you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "We don't have to, this isn't just about my comfort, it's also about yours. Let me hold you close, all of you," he looked down towards you, smiling faintly before nodding.

"I trust you," he whispered softly. Your heart melted, you knew he didn't give out his trust freely, as his trust was more guarded than his heart. You two had made your way to the bathroom, and you turned on the water to the bathtub, turning back towards him as it filled.

You kissed his nose playfully, "No hanky panky," you teased, unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckled, nodding, "No hanky panky," he mumbled.

You smiled warmly, already letting your hands gently push back his shirt. He visibly tensed as you exposed his left shoulder. The scars where metal met flesh were angry and red, and months of watching the healers patch up others could tell you it was partially self-inflicted. You kissed the scar gently, gauging his reaction. He relaxed just a smidge as he closed his eyes, surrendering fully to you. You let the shirt fall to the floor, kissing every scar along his shoulders and collarbones. His chest was an array of multiple scars and burns; you didn't stop to think about what caused all of them, it was all in the past.

"These scars aren't ugly, My Love. They are your own constellations. They are a map of your past. They mean that you are strong, and you survived terrible things, that you are a warrior." You saw him start to relax as you kiss more scars, practically whimpering as you kissed his skin. His body was well sculpted, made from the gods, is all you could think. Pure muscle, toned, golden skin; you let your hands happily explore his chest and stomach, lightly mapping him out.

Eventually, he melted against you, accepting that you weren't running away or scared. His hands found their way to your hips, running up your back and tugging at the strings of your corset. "May I see you as well, My Love?" he murmured softly against at the shell of your ear. You nodded, biting your lip as he tugged the last string free, letting the corset fall, leaving you in only your panties and the constellation necklace around your neck.

You were a bit insecure, your arms crossing against your chest as you looked away. Bucky's hands stopped you, gently moving your arms away before tilting your face up to see him. "You're absolutely beautiful, doll," he spoke softly. Your nipples hardened from the cold air, a small shiver running down your spine as goosebumps raised on your skin. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, "Absolutely perfect," he mumbled. You whimpered softly, your eyes fluttering close at his touch. He ran his hands down your body, before they found their way to your hips, tugging you in as Bucky pressed his lips against your own. That was heaven, you decided. Soft lips of velvet and a faint taste of coffee and vanilla, you loved kissing Bucky.

Your hands stopped the water in the bath, before blindly tugging at his pants as you kissed him, his hands curling against the band of your panties. A few moments later you both stood naked in front of each other, unknowingly both nervous about what the other would think. You locked eyes with Bucky, gently taking his hand and leading him to the bath. He sat in the warm waters first, leading you in the tub. You sat between his legs, happily leaning against his chest, your fingers already tracing patterns into both of his arms.

Nothing about what you two were doing was sexual, both of you needed the intimacy with each other, reassuring the other was really there. "Tell me more about courting," you whispered softly, leaning your head on Bucky's shoulder.

He smiled warmly behind you, wrapping his arms around your stomach to keep you close. "Well, there are cases of mutual courtship, where both parties spoil each other," he spoke softly, one of his hands leaving your stomach to run through your hair.

"There is?! Why didn't you tell me? I would love to spoil you," you whisper-yelled, turning in his arms.

He chuckled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. "Your very presence spoils me. You're my Northern Star, Doll," he whispered softly.

"I never got the chance to ask you what that means," you carded your fingers through his hair, unknowingly soothing him, his eyes closing.

"There's a part of my story I haven't told you yet, My Love," he kissed your exposed neck, smiling faintly as you purred beneath him. "I've been in love with you since we were younger, the beautiful princess I couldn't get enough of. I had a lot of flings when we were younger because I thought you could never be mine, even engaged I thought you'd only see me as your husband out of necessity and not love. During the war, once Steve rescued me I sat for a month, waiting, healing. During that month I read through every letter you had sent me during the time I was gone, and Stevie even let me read his, all of his mentioned me in some way. It took me the middle of a war, already losing everything, to realize you loved me the way I loved you. After the war and multiple mental breaks, all Steve had to do was mention you and it set me right again. You, doll, guide me back home just by existing, you're my Northern Star." You practically melted into his arms as he spoke, gently curling his hair around your fingers. "Sometimes I believe the reason the crown fell onto my head was so that it may also fall upon yours. The kind yet fierce, loyal and brave, intelligent and beautiful Princess. The woman who was born to be a Queen," he murmured into your neck, goosebumps raising where his breath fanned across. "The sexiest woman in the world, the woman who owns my heart."

You practically whimpered in his arms. You were right, you most definitely would not survive lovemaking with him. He kept his metal hand firm on your lower stomach, dangerously close to your core, which sent heat directly towards it. You tensed, feeling his right hand at your rib, just a hair below your breast. "I promised not to try anything," he whispered softly, both hands freezing, "I just want to hold you."

His voice soothed you, and you relaxed against him. "I trust you, truly I do, I've just never... I haven't..." You fumbled for words. Your cultures were very different from each other. In the Southern Kingdom, practically every one of Noble birth waited until marriage, while in the North it wasn't expected of Nobles to do as such, in fact, most didn't.

"You've never had sex before. I understand, doll," he reassured softly. "I will wait for you. Whether it's on our wedding night or even afterward, I'll wait an eternity for you. I'll never push you to do something you don't want to."

You felt hot tears build up in your eyes, you quickly blinked them away, feeling nothing but absolutely loved. Every time you thought you were at the peak of your love for Bucky, he proved you wrong, you couldn't stop loving this man and he kept proving he absolutely adored you. "I want to, and I want you, wholly and fully. I just don't want my first time in a bathtub." You teased lightly, a yawn almost breaking your words. You nuzzled closer to him, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

He chuckled behind you, the vibrations sending warmth throughout your body. "Rest, My Love, I'll tuck you in bed, and we have tomorrow off, remember? All the sleep you want," he kissed your temple lovingly, reaching over and tugging the drain loose.

He stood, quickly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you, picking you up bridal style. Your eyes closed, content in his arms, quickly approaching sleep. "What clothes would you like, My Love?" you hummed in acknowledgment but smiled playfully, tucking yourself deeper into his arms and not answering. He sighed softly, "You little troublemaker," he teased, slowly placing you under the covers of his bed. You whined when he pulled away, much to his amusement. He kissed your hair, smiling as he smelled your lavender shampoo, "I'll be right back, promise," he whispered softly.

He quickly dried off, tossing on a pair of boxers before joining you in bed. You quickly found his body warmth, snuggling closer to him, letting the blanket between you get pushed away. You weren't scared to be completely naked in his arms, fully trusting he wouldn't try anything, you just weren't quite ready (well frankly have the energy) to do anything tonight.

He pulled blankets and furs above the two of you, elated to wrap his arms around you. He kissed your temple, making you purr in your dazed state. He chuckled, thinking you looked positively adorable. "Goodnight and sweet dreams, My Northern Star," he whispered softly, his voice luring you into a restful sleep.

TAGS:

Frozen Heart Tags:

@jsmith509 / @lumar014 / @littlemissporter / @kaylaphantomhive

@damnbuckyishot / @aveatquevale- / @booksbeforebois

@marvelgirl7 / @minetticatinwonderland

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx

(Striked out means it wouldn't tag you)

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

#Frozen Heart #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #princess!reader #king!bucky #royalty au #arranged marriage AU #childhood friends to lovers #My writing

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set-phasers-to-whump · 5 years

Text

whumptober day 31

prompt: embrace

whumpee: malcolm bright

Malcolm would admit it-he was stressed and exhausted. Now, he was normally stressed and exhausted, but usually, he was able to distance himself from those things and focus, sweeping them under the rug completely.

But he’d been running on fumes for weeks at this point, and seeing his father fairly often, which wasn’t helping. And he was currently helping with a high-profile case that demanded more effort than he was able to give. He was doing his best, but it just wasn’t enough-and it was starting to be noticed.

“You’re slacking a little,” JT pointed out to him, not entirely unkindly. “You good?”

“Fine,” Malcolm told him tersely, balling up his fists and trying to focus on his work.

“You wanna grab lunch?” Dani asked, hoping to distract Malcolm from the work he was attempting to do.

“I’m good, thanks,” he replied, rubbing his fists into his eyes. He was so tired, and so stressed, and he could barely think straight. But this case was important, and he was outlining his profile. He needed to keep going.

The following morning, after perhaps fifteen minutes of sleep, Malcolm once again arrived at work, his clothes looking put-together, his face telling a different story-he looked like a man dead, pale and a little grey around the edges.

“You really don’t look too good,” JT said, as soon as Malcolm walked into the precinct.

“Good morning to you, too,” Malcolm muttered, not looking up. His head had been pounding for a couple of days now, but this morning everything he did seemed to make it worse. He found it almost impossible to focus at all, and fought sleep the entire morning.

Dani once again tried to lure him out of the precinct for lunch, which he once again refused. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he could even move without collapsing at this point.

“Malcolm! Can I see you in my office a minute?” Gil called across the room.

Malcolm, who had been looking through old case files and not taking in any information at all, slowly stood up, wavering on his feet for a moment. He waited until he regained his balance, then slowly made his way to Gil’s office, his headache throbbing with every step.

Gil pulled the door shut behind him and motioned for him to sit on the couch. Malcolm stayed standing, figuring it would be easier than having to get up from the couch-Gil would definitely see that something was wrong. He didn’t need to worry him.

Gil, of course, noticed something was wrong anyway. He nearly always did-Malcolm was his kid, after all. He knew when things were up.

“You’re running yourself into the ground, kid,” he said gently. “How much have you slept this week?”

Malcolm didn’t answer, trying to calculate the number in his head. “An hour and a half?” he guessed.

Gil sighed. “How much have you eaten?”

“I don’t know, some?”

He sighed again. “How bad is your headache?”

“What?”

“I know you, Malcolm. I know you’ve probably had that headache for a couple days, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you’re really not okay.”

“It’s not too bad,” Malcolm said. He’d had worse.

“Really?”

“It’s fine, Gil.”

“It’s not, and we both know it. You’re exhausted, you’re not eating enough, you’re working as hard as you can on this profile, and you’re hurting yourself doing it. I know I said it was important, but, kid, there’s nothing more important than you and your health, okay?”

Malcolm blinked at him, then rubbed a hand over his face. It shook, and he made no effort to conceal it.

“You can rest, Malcolm, you’re allowed to rest.”

“No, no, I...I need to finish this profile.”

“There are other profilers, Malcolm. I know you don’t want to miss anything, I know how much the work helps you, but you’re not invincible. You can hand off your profile, and take a break.”

“But-”

“I will make that an order if I have to.”

Malcolm stood still for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“Fine,” he said quietly.

Gil carefully stepped forward, holding his arms out slightly so Malcolm would know what he was doing. He didn’t back away, so Gil slowly wrapped him in a comforting embrace. He pulled Malcolm’s head to his shoulder and held onto him tightly.

“Good,” he said, letting Malcolm bury his face into his coat and placing a soft hand on the back of his neck when he sniffled.

“I’m just so tired,” he whispered, voice muffled into Gil’s coat.

“I know, kid, I know.”

i know the ending is sucky and its pretty short but i hope you liked this anyway!!! i cannot believe i did this whole month!!!! im so happy!!!!!

#i didnt think id be able to do it but i did!!!!#31 things written in 31 days!!!!!#im so so happy!!!!!!#whumptober2019 #no.31 #embrace #emotional whump #stress #headache #sleep deprevation #malcolm bright #prodigal son #my writing #i say things #happy halloween yall!!!

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the--blackdahlia · 6 years

Text

This Life Chapter 16

Title: This Life Chapter 16

Summary: Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use, this chapter is pretty sad

AN: Thank you to the lovely @sams-serialkiller-fetish . The song for this chapter is Come Join the Murder by The White Buffalo & The Forest Rangers

Sam was curled up in the passenger seat of Baby as Dean drove them back to Wolfpine. He had his arm cradled against him and his eyes were closed. Dean kept casting glances over at him. The kid had worked himself up the minute Ellen stepped out of the truck and asked where Benny was. Jim had forced him to take a couple pills from the med kit that Bobby kept in the truck and before Dean knew it, his not so little, little brother was snoring softly beside him in the Impala.

Dean was exhausted. He couldn’t wait to get back to Wolfpine and collapse onto his bed. And he had the pull out couch for Sam to sleep on for the night. Unless he decided that they needed to spend the night in John’s old house. But Dean didn’t think it was a very good idea. Plus, they had the Wayward Sons following them to Wolfpine to think of a plan in case the remaining Horsemen decided to retaliate for Azazel’s death.

Bobby had called in some favors with a couple sheriff’s who owed him a thing or two. Benny’s body would be returned home, and the bodies of Azazel and the henchmen would be dealt with. Jody assured Bobby of that. Bobby could focus then on putting Benny to rest. His dad was currently drinking his way through Atlantic City, and his mom was on her honeymoon with her new husband in Europe. Bobby doubted that either would be there to say goodbye to their son.

And then there was Sam. That kid had been through more trauma in the past year than any of them had. He had watched as a fire destroyed everything, he watched his dad shot in the chest and was left for dead, and then he was chained up to watch as a man who was like a brother to him was shot in the head and killed. Bobby didn’t know about what Azazel had told Sam, and neither did Dean. Bobby didn’t know about Sam’s downward spiral into depression that John managed to pull him out of. Dean was afraid it was going to happen again.

“Sammy.” Dean said gently when he parked Baby in Winchester-Singer’s lot. Sam groaned and slowly opened his eyes. “Hey, we’re at the garage. I thought we could stay here tonight then head to my place tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Sam said softly, opening the door and slowly getting out, stretching his long legs as he did. He had been asleep when they stopped in New Mexico. He didn’t even remember Dean making him get out of the car to use the bathroom and forced him to eat a little something that the medicine in him wouldn’t screw him up too much.

“How’s your arm?” Dean asked, coming around to look at Sam.

“It’s fine.” He whispered, but he was holding it close to him. Dean was sure that it was probably hurting. He followed Sam to the building. He could hear the others pulling in. But Dean knew that Sam needed time away from all of them. Hell, he needed time away from all of them. So they made their way through everything to the room that Dean used to sleep in when he just couldn’t handle being around John, until he got the apartment that was. It wasn’t much. A large bed mainly. But that’s all they really needed. They needed sleep.

“Let me look at that.” Dean said when he closed the door behind him. Sam held out his arm for Dean to check it out. He knew basic first aid. And he knew how to change bandages. He was going to make sure that they were always clean and taken care of. “It looks fine. It should heal nicely.”

“Thanks.” Sam sighed and set down on the bed. “You want the bed?”

“I think there’s enough room we could share.” Dean laughed. “And I’ll even keep my boxers on.”

“God, you’re ridiculous.” Sam said, kicking off his boots and laying back on one side of the bed. Dean kicked off his own shoes and his vest was next. He tossed himself down on the bed.

“God, this thing stinks.” He shook his head, not wanting to know what had been done on this bed. “I’m replacing it once everything is done and over with.” Sam didn’t answer. Dean looked over to find Sam fast asleep. He couldn’t help but smile. “G’night bitch.” He said, turning over and falling to sleep himself.

****

The next morning, there were not alarm clocks. Everyone slept in as much as they could, just enjoying their moments of peace. They knew that war was on the horizon, especially once the other princes found Azazel. They also knew that they were going to have to bury Benny. Bobby had tried over and over again to get a hold of either of his parents, but nothing.

Sheriff Mills came by in the afternoon. Dean was out in the garage, trying to focus on a car to keep his mind off of everything. The Wayward Sons were staying at John’s old home for the night. Bobby had never sold it, figuring that Sam might want it during the summers or something. Or that Dean would get tired of that apartment and want a change. Lucifer, Andy, Gabriel, Ruby, and Meg were all there, waiting for the other shoe to drop and war to break out.

“Dean Winchester.” Jody said, walking up to him. Dean smiled some.

“Hey Jody.” Dean said, wiping his hands on a shop rag. She could tell that his smile wasn’t reaching his eyes though and she immediately hugged him. She might have been on the Hunters payroll, but she was also a friend. That’s what made it a little easier to look the other one every once in awhile.

“Benjamin Lafitte has been released to the North Star Hospital Center.” Jody explained to Dean. “So you guys can arrange…” Dean nodded.

“Thanks Jody. We really owe you.” Dean said. Jody looked up then and smiled some as Sam came out into the garage, favoring his arm.

“Sam.” She hugged him, careful to miss his arm. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks Jody.” Sam said softly. “Hey Dean, have you seen Jim?”

“No, not yet. Your arm hurting?” Dean asked. Sam nodded. Dean was about to say something when some new bikes pulled into the lot. Jody was a little on edge. “It’s ok Jody, they’re friends.” Dean said. Andy took his helmet off and looked over at Sam and Dean.

“You okay?” He asked, walking past Jody.

“I’m fine.” Sam sighed. Jody took this time to size up the Wayward Sons. Andy seemed okay. Meg and Ruby weren’t too bad. Gabriel looked a little rough around the edges. Lucifer was fucking scary.

“I could score you some Demon Blood man.” Lucifer said. “It’ll stop all the pain.”

“Yeah, and it’ll stop him from being a functioning human being.” Ruby hissed. “Don’t even bring that shit around here.”

“Demon Blood?” Dean asked. “What the fuck is that?”

“Street drug and nasty.” Jody told him. “I just had to interview a couple of girls who had been slipped it in their drinks.” Dean watched Ruby awkwardly rubbed her arm as Jody spoke. “Moderation shouldn’t cause any life altering effects. But too much and overdoses can really fuck you up.”

“Can we change the subject?” Sam asked. “I don’t need Demon Blood. Just some low grade, over the counter painkillers and I’ll be good.”

“What happened anyway?” Jody asked.

“I got shot.” Sam said dismissively before he headed to where Ellen and Jo were to see if they had anything.

“Well, I guess you guys have things to attend to.” Jody said. “Let me know when the funeral is. I’d love to pay my respects.” She patted Dean’s arm and offered a small smile. “And tell Bobby to give me a call.” She left then. Dean went to go make the arrangements to have Benny buried. He didn’t want him to lay there and rot because his parents couldn’t give a shit about him. He also needed to research whatever this Demon Blood shit was.

“She was addicted to it.” Andy said to Dean, startling him some. “Ruby was. She was kicked out of her home, lost her job, everything. All she wanted was more of it. But she pulled herself out and is very anti Demon Blood.”

“Why is it called that?” Dean asked.

“No matter what form it’s in, it’s a deep red. It looks like blood. And it causes the user to hallucinate. A very common side effect is they believe they have powers.” Andy looked over at Lucifer, who was talking with Meg and Gabriel. “Lucifer OD’ed on it. That’s why he’s insane.”

“That did that to him?” Dean asked.

“Gabriel said he had a slight mental illness anyway. And he got hooked on Demon Blood. And he just took more and more until his body couldn’t take it anymore.” Andy explained. “Sam got lucky. He took it once and it made him sick and he promised to never take it again.” Andy realized as soon as the words left his mouth, he shouldn’t have said them.

“Wait...what did you say?” Dean asked.

“Nothing.” Andy shook his head.

“Sam took this drug?” Dean asked. Andy sighed.

“Once, as a moment of weakness. Right after Jess died. But he got so sick that the benefits were overshadowed. And he promised all of us and God himself that he would never do it again.” Andy could see the anger bubbling away under Dean’s skin. What else had Sam neglected to tell him? Instead, Dean stormed off, leaving Andy there. He went to find Bobby so they could get ready to bury Benny.

****

The funeral home was quick to have things set up. So it was the next day and they were ready. Benny was prepped and placed in a closed casket. It was sunny and warm. Every trope in movies said it was supposed to rain. So it couldn’t really be a funeral.

It was a graveside service. The funeral home did bring Benny to the cemetery via hearse, and the Hunters and Wayward Sons were the pallbearers. While the Wayward Sons had only known Benny a couple of days, they felt obligated to stand there by the Hunters. Ellen and Jo sobbed. Especially Ellen. She had watched Benny grow up from a chubby toddler to a man.

Sam was one of the first to leave when the ceremony was over. He had to get away. He needed air. So he stormed off, running away to a club of trees where he could sit and be alone. But he wasn’t, because Dean was right behind him.

“Sammy…” Dean said. “We got revenge for Benny and for dad.”

“You think that Azazel planned this all on his own?” Sam asked. Dean was about to speak up. “There are three more princes out there, plus their fucking henchmen. Dean, we have to stop them all.”

“And we will in due time.” Dean said. “We just buried Benny.”

“They won’t care.” Sam told him. “And if what Azazel said is true…”

“What? What did he say to you?” Dean asked.

“He told me that he slept with mom when her and dad were separated and that I have a good chance of being his kid.” Sam told Dean. “I don’t believe but…”

“Dad told me about that.” Dean said. “You’re not Azazel’s son. Even if you were, it didn’t change anything. Dad loved you so much.”

“But…”

“No buts Sammy. You’re a Winchester, that’s all there is to it. You ain’t getting out of this family that easy.” He smirked at Sam, who rolled his eyes. “Come on. I think a trip up to Austin for a burger is in order. My treat.”

“Can we take Baby?” Sam asked.

“Of course. Probably hard to steer your bike with that arm anyway.” They headed back to the others. They had gotten a ride with Bobby. Dean didn’t mention anything about what Andy had told him about Demon Blood. He just wasn’t in the mood to fight with Sam. He got his brother back and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t want to push him away.

And a trip to Austin really could do them both a lot of good.

****

Aguila, Arizona

Azazel’s body laid on a table as Asmodeus, Alastair, Ramiel, Lilith, Abbadon, and Dagon stood around. It had been chaos when the princes had came back from a run to Mexico and found their fourth dead on the ground. This just stunk of Hunters. Alastair was sure of it.

“They’re all dead.” Asmodeus finally said. “The Hunters have to be exterminated.”

“What do we do?” Ramiel asked.

“We slaughter them like the pigs they are.” Lilith hissed. She held Azazel’s favorite pistol in her hands. “I want to kill at least one of them.”

“Lil, just breathe.” Abbadon said. She looked at the others.

“Actually, I think it would be a fantastic idea to include the girls.” Alastair said. “They have a moral code. They’re not going to willingly shoot women. And they don’t have women in their group. It would be the perfect distraction.”

“Then let’s get ready.” Asmodeus announced. “I want the Hunters dead by the end of the week.”

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @i-would-die-for-woodland-demars @dekahg @marvel-af @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tags: @luciathewinchestergirl @sheris532 @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @bella-ca

This Life Tags: @soulslaststand @jamielea81 @caplansteverogers @becs-bunker @colie87

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23 @cloudyskylines @supernaturalwincestsblog @sams-serialkiller-fetish

#this life #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 10

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Belonging Nowhere”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3,815

Warnings: ???

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Eva’s departure is felt throughout the whole of Asgard. When the God of Thunder discovers her absence, Heimdall shows how willing he is to live up to the promise he made. Aaldir offers fatherly advice to the worried Prince.

A/N: This chapter, as you may notice, is shorter than the previous one. I’m sorry for my short hiatus. With work, college, and life all happening at the same time, I’m losing track of the time. To those of you who waited patiently, reaching out to check on me, YOU are what makes the hard days seem easier. Once again, you’re all so amazing for even reading this in the first place. I love all of you so, so, so much <3 -Ellie

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

*Thor’s POV*

I wasted no time racing to the Bifrost at the end of the Rainbow Bridge to confront Heimdall. As soon as I read the note that Aaldir gave to me, I went into a rage. Eva was one of the most brilliant women I had ever met, and I didn’t understand how she could have been so ignorant to believe that she could be needed anywhere other than right here. She was continuing her reckless behavior that I thought we had gotten past after New York. As soon as I entered the Bifrost, Heimdall turned to face me, “you noticed her absence, just as everyone else did,” he noted, reminding me that she was just as much a part of Asgard as the air we all breathed. Her absence left a hole in the hearts of every Asgardian, young and old.

“Why did she leave?” I asked, my voice deep and urgent, “why did you send her to Midgard without telling me?” I asked, feeling like I was being spread too thin. Between ongoing problems with my father, my conflict over Loki, the newest prisoner, and the looming threat of Cul and his armies, I was at my wits end. I needed some explanation as to why my most trusted friend and advisor ran off to Midgard.

Heimdall gazed back out at the universe, calm as ever. His face had always been hard as stone. It was impossible for me to see any change in emotion, though Eva always claimed she could sense what he was feeling. I never believed her, thinking it was her way of gloating or bragging. Still, I couldn’t read him in that moment or any moment that had come before, “I am not at liberty to say,” he answered nonchalantly. His voice always captivated Eva, and I loved watching her as she listened to him speak. He continued before my mind could carry me away with thoughts of her, “she told me to keep the reason as to her sudden departure a secret between the two of us, and I intend to keep it that way,” he added, loyal as ever to her.

“Send me down there at once,” I demanded, tired of the games she always played. While I was sure this was no such thing, it was frustrating that she disappeared at random without giving us any answers at all. I didn’t intend to keep tabs on her at all times, but with what happened between her and Ezra, I was afraid that she was going to go back down a destructive path. She had encountered a threat that was much greater than we were prepared for, Loki’s fate was still hanging in the balance, and she was lost in all of it. She was hanging on by a thread, and I was afraid that she would reach her breaking point soon enough. Feeling as if my demand had fallen on deaf ears, I repeated myself, “send me down to Midgard at once!” I ordered, straightening my shoulders.

Heimdall shook his head, “no,” he answered simply.

My eyes widened as he disobeyed my blatant order, but I knew that even if my father had ordered him to do so, if he made a promise to Eva, he would keep it. I growled, “I demand it!”

He glanced over at me, amber eyes boring into my own, and I could finally see what Eva always claimed she could see. He was loyal to those he cared for, and no matter how close we were, he understood Eva better than anyone else, and she understood him with the same intensity and clarity. While Eva belonged here, she had always been on the outside, just like Heimdall. They were both wanderers, warriors, and keepers of the stars. I saw his love for her in that moment, “that’s unfortunate because I will not grant you passage to Midgard,” he stated before gazing back out at the fast universe, “I promised Lady Eva that I would not allow you to follow her. I gave her my word that she would not be trailed unless her life was in grave danger, and I would never dream of going back on my word to her,” he explained, grasping the handle of his sword tightly.

“I am the Prince of Asgard!” I reminded him, my voice nearly causing the entire Bifrost to shake.

His head snapped around, and our eyes met once more, “and she is the Princess!” he boomed, my voice having paled in comparison to his. The anger melted away from his features just as quickly as it had shown itself, but he could not take the words back, no matter how hard he tried. Of course, Eva wasn’t of the royal family, so she wasn’t a princess by blood, nor was she by marriage, since she had never married Loki or I. In the eyes of the Asgardian people, though, Eva was a princess, and they loved her like a queen. She was the lifeblood of our world, and the people saw that as time passed. Perhaps Heimdall wasn’t above those emotions. He sighed, “I gave her my word, and I will not break it. You often forget that she is far stronger and far more capable than anyone has ever given her credit for. She has fought off entire armies on her own. Lady Eva has always been full of surprises, and this is no different,” he reminded me of the countless times I watched the beautiful warrior on the battlefield. She fought as if she was dancing, every movement fluid and flowing right into the next.

I huffed, “if anything changes, alert me at once,” I demanded, hating the fact that I had to leave her safety in the hands of anyone else. The last time I trusted someone with her life, I almost lost her. While she wasn’t mine, nor would she ever be, she was still my very best friend and most trusted confidante. I wouldn’t know what to do with my life if I didn’t have her.

“That goes double for me,” that familiar voice sounded from behind me. As I turned around, I saw the God of Mercy standing directly behind me. I wasn’t sure how much of my argument with Heimdall he had heard, but it caused a certain level of shame within me to think that I was doubting her abilities even more than her own father, a man who-after all he had lost-would have been more protective of her now more than ever before. His eyes were warm and welcoming as they had always been, but there was a sorrow within them that had never gone away since Loki’s turn, since his fall, since her. With the recent loss of Hjalmar and with Eva leaving Asgard, he looked more put together than I had expected. Still, his dark hair was disheveled just enough to give me the answers to the questions I wouldn’t dare ask him, no matter how merciful I knew he would be.

He motioned for me to join in, to walk back across the bridge with him. A look of peace and serenity fell across his features, much like what happened with Eva when she knew I needed her to be strong for me. I would never ask for her, but she could always feel it. There were countless times when she would show up out of the blue just to talk or sit with me because she could feel my troubled mind. She didn’t limit this behavior to just members of the royal family or those she was closest to, either. Eva would often roam the streets of Asgard, even as a young girl, and listen for the cries of a child, the broken heart of a father who lost his son in battle, the widowed mother who was raising her children alone, the sounds of silence where she knew she was needed, and without accepting any payment in return, she would sit with each of them. Any man, woman, or child was under her care, and they loved her all the more for her acts of selflessness.

I wasn’t certain if she was born with that heart, or if she inherited pieces of it from the man beside me. As Aaldir and I walked along the Rainbow Bridge, I had one of the most selfish fleeting thoughts in my life. I wished she would leave others to their own devices. It wasn’t a wish that would benefit her, as I was well aware that the times she was helpless to lift people up when they fell, a piece of her died. It was a wish made purely out of my selfish desire to protect her, to shelter her. A part of me couldn’t see her as the warrior she was, as the strong leader I knew she could be. I would always see her as this fragile little girl that the world wanted to break, but she was strong from the beginning, far stronger than I could ever even hope to be.

“I know that feeling,” Aaldir noted, cutting off my train of thought.

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced over at him, curious as to what he was talking about, “what do you mean?” I asked as our eyes met. Eva and him looked so different, which was to be expected since they were not related by blood. However, they looked so similar at the same time, skin that was kissed by the sun, innocent and pained eyes under full brows, the most perfect facial structure I had ever seen, as if they had been crafted by angels. Eva always said that it was because they shared the same life energy, that all things were connected, but she had the strongest connection to him because he chose her, raised her, taught her, and loved her.

He smirked, “you would rather her be miserable and safe with you than fulfilled and in potential danger. I know that feeling all too well,” he stated, taking me by surprise. He had always praised and admired her independence, so I didn’t think he could possibly understand my dilemma. He chuckled, “I taught her how to fight, and she soon became so powerful that there was nothing left for me to teach her. I didn’t teach her how to fight with the hope that she would seek war and blood but with the hope that she would fight for what she believed in, what she loved, and she has done that. I taught her how to love by loving her unconditionally, and she soon loved everything around her with that unconditional love but only one person even more than that-your brother. I didn’t teach her how to love with the hope that she would have her heart broken but with the hope that she wouldn’t be afraid to love, even if it meant having her heart broken,” he explained, his voice softening as his eyes glossed over with tears that I had never seen him allow to fall.

“I taught her everything I knew about life, love, war, death, pain, and suffering. It wasn’t with the hope that she would run off and put her life at risk, but it was with the hope that if she chose to do that, she was as prepared as possible,” he explained, blinking away the tears that always rose to his eyes when he talked about Eva. She was the light of his life, his pride and joy, his everything. He cleared his throat, “so, trust me when I tell you that I know how it feels to want to shelter her. I’m her father; I know all about that. However, the one thing that makes it easier is that I know there will come a day when I can’t be beside her, when I die a warrior’s death, and from that moment on, she will need to be her own guiding light, her own protector, her own hero. And if my time with her is limited to this lifetime, I want to see her smile as often as possible because that’s what gives my life meaning, to see that my children are happy,” he explained, silence finally falling between us again.

After thinking on his words for a moment, I spoke, “but how can you be so comfortable when she leaves for Midgard without saying a word about it to anyone? How can you be so calm when she could be in danger, when there is a possibility that she may not come home?” I asked, my mind racing with thoughts of her possible demise. Ever since the battle with Ezra, she had been acting strange, almost as if she was trying to hide something from me. I didn’t know what it was or why she was acting so distant, and I just wanted answers. I glanced over at Aaldir again, “how can you be so comfortable when she’s putting her life at risk?”

“Because it’s not my place to make decisions in her life. She’s my daughter, yes, but she’s her own young woman. I make my own decisions that impact my life, so what gives me the right to make her decisions for her?” he asked, challenging my train of thought, “the only time I’ve seen her happier than when she was with your brother was when she felt she had done right by herself. She needed to be on Midgard to do what she felt was right. She followed her heart, and it led her there. Who are we to discourage that?”

I shook my head, “people who care about her safety and security,” I answered, not understanding how he could be so blind to her self-destructive behavior, “I know that you raised warriors, and I owe all my skills to you as well. I just feel like Eva is throwing that all away to chase a fantasy. She has always put the lives of others before her own. If she can subdue an opponent instead of killing them, she does. If she can talk someone down instead of hurting them, she takes that route. It has been a dangerous path for her to tread. The greatest warriors live to fight another day, and she seems like she’s on a mission to get herself killed,” I rambled, feeling out of breath.

Aaldir let the silence fall between us as he thought of what to say in response to my argument. To question Eva and her decisions was a dangerous game to play, especially when I was talking to her father, the man who trusted her judgement more than he trusted anyone else, “the greatest warriors are ones who fight for others without need for recognition. They give up their comfort and peace to ensure it in the lives of others. They don’t need parades or words of praise or even love and admiration from the people they’re protecting. They are not loyal to a person or to a throne, but they are loyal to their moral code...to life. They’re the warriors who would forfeit their lives for the ones they fight for and the ones they fight beside. My son was one of those warriors, and my daughter is the greatest warrior I know,” he explained, wanting to make me understand just how honorable a warrior she was, “she jumped in front of a sword for you and-”

I cut him off, “and nearly got herself killed in the process!” I reminded him.

“It was to protect you!” he exclaimed, his voice growing louder as he saw that I was growing more and more frustrated at the situation we found ourselves in.

I was powerless to do anything to bring her back home, and I felt like I was being left out of her decisions. It hadn’t been like she included me much in the decision-making process in the first place, but to be completely oblivious to what was going on upset me, “she’s acting erratically and defiantly, and her trip to Midgard proves that,” I stated, my anger continuing to well up within me.

He smiled to himself, his eyes telling a story of a time long ago, a time I was a stranger to, “her trip to Midgard proves only one thing, and that’s the simple fact that she is willing to do anything and everything to protect the people she loves most. Tony Stark is among those people whether you like it or not. And you know what's at stake for her on Midgard,” he reminded me as we finally reached the palace. I knew exactly what he was talking about, as I had met her on many occasions. I knew that Eva’s soul was torn between here and Midgard, and I always felt my heart aching for her. She wanted to be close to those she loved here but also those she loved on Midgard. At the mere mention of her, I became quiet once more, my anger and frustration around the situation falling away.

In my silence, Aaldir continued, “Eva has always been a free spirit, flowing like the waves and going wherever the summer breeze took her,” he reminisced, thinking of the girl who turned him into something more than just a warrior. Where he had once been one of Asgard’s greatest warriors, nothing more and nothing less, he was a loving father before anything else. She taught him just as much as he taught her, and I saw it in him every day. He changed little by little every moment he spent with her, “nothing and no one could tie her down, and that’s what Loki loved most about her. As a child, he learned to be calculating in order to protect himself from the heartache and rejection he felt every single day. Eva showed him that his life didn’t have to be like that. She was his taste of freedom, and the time he spent with her was time away from the rules and discipline. She was his guiding light in the darkness, the brightest star in his sky. He loved her wild beauty. She set him free,” he explained as we reached the doors to my mother’s chambers, “I think you have something to give her,” he reminded me, gesturing to the door before taking his leave.

I stood outside the door, watching him walk away, a man who placed every ounce of faith in Eva, and I could only hope for his sake that she would make it home safely. Once he had turned the corner and disappeared from my sight, I turned back to the tall door, which opened before I even had the opportunity to knock. My mother stepped to the side, gesturing for me to enter the room. As I stepped around her, I sensed her muscles tighten, “what’s wrong?” she asked, concern washing over her features as she closed the door.

I sighed, “Eva left,” I stated, trying to ease her into the news. I didn’t want to spring it all on her at once, so I wanted to break it up into smaller pieces for her to digest easier.

She nodded her head, “she left for Midgard. I sensed it,” she replied, knowing that her prediction was true. Just as Eva shared an awe inspiring connection with my brother, she shared a similar one with my mother, though it couldn’t possibly be as strong as the one she shared with Loki. My silence allowed her the time to continue, “you’re upset by this. Why?”

“She doesn’t belong there,” I answered, “she belongs in Asgard, fighting the battles we are fighting instead of running off to Midgard every chance she gets!”

“And what battles are we fighting at the moment?” she asked, challenging me, “yes, Ezra came here and brought threats, but we are prepared for his forces. You speak as if Eva visits Midgard every day, but she hasn’t been back there since…” her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes. It hadn’t been the day she left for Loki, but the time Eva went back the day after we arrived in Midgard with my brother. We all knew that when Eva came home from the battle in New York, she was different, and when she left the following day, we weren’t sure if she would come back at all. She did, but she was never the same. There was always an emptiness in her eyes where there was once happiness. Even after Loki fell, she still maintained some level of joy for the sake of those around her. After that day, though, she had truly lost everything.

I frowned at the thought of what must’ve triggered Eva to go back. She had sworn that no force could demand her presence other than her safety. All I could think of was that she was hurt, which made me want to follow Eva to Midgard even more. I sighed, “I’m just worried. What if something terrible is happening, and I can’t help?” I asked, thinking of all the possibilities and driving myself mad in the process.

Her warm hand rested against the side of my face, cupping my cheek, “sometimes all you can do in situations like this is have faith. Believe in Eva like you always have. You were never blind to her strength when you were younger, so don’t doubt her now. It’s important to feel fear, but you cannot let it dictate the choices you make. Eva learned that long ago, long before she should have. For your own peace of mind, try not to think about her. Feel her presence in your heart, but do not let the thoughts of her safety cloud your mind,” she suggested, knowing that the task she gave me would be difficult.

I nodded my head, trusting her to point me in the right direction. While I would never have my mother’s calm demeanor-a tranquility in even the most dire situations-I possessed a piece of that. I believed it was a mother’s gift, one I could never master fully. Eva was best at it, even in combat. In the silence between us, I remembered my true reason for visiting my mother. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note intended for Loki, knowing that my mother had always gone against the wishes of my father to visit him in the dungeons. She would find a way to get the note to him, especially if it was one from Eva, “she wrote one for Loki and I before she left. This one is his,” I explained, handing it over to her. She nodded her head, knowing what I was asking her to do without saying it, “and...tell him I love him, too.”

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