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roosterforme · 3 months

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Aim for the Sky Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to take care of everything so you can take take care of Rose. A visit to your doctor answers a lot of questions, and Bradley is hoping he can still give you the babymoon that he promised.

Warnings: Angst, injury, potential pregnancy complications, fluff, smut

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley had you eating three square meals a day all weekend long. He spent more time talking to your mom than you did, and she helped him cook while you took little naps. Any time food was mentioned, in any capacity, he got you involved.

"Cam and Maria want to know if I'm interested in going out for a belated birthday brunch since I'm feeling a bit better," you told him as you read your texts on Sunday morning.

"Tell them yes," Bradley replied where he was still in bed next to you with his head on your shoulder and his eyes closed. "But I'll drop you off and pick you up." His rough fingers tracing an intricate pattern along your skin from your belly up to your breasts, and you knew better than to argue with him.

"Okay," you murmured as he kissed along the side of your breast. He'd been touching you nonstop since he brought you home from the hospital. If you were awake, his body was in contact with yours, and his hands were on your belly. And when you slept, he seemed to miraculously clean the house and walk Tramp and make edible food. But while he'd been touching you constantly, he didn't initiate sex, and neither did you.

Truthfully, your hand was still aching a bit, and every time you felt Rose move, you silently rejoiced. Your body was sore, and you just kept wanting to go back to sleep. You found yourself stifling yawn after yawn, and you knew Bradley had noticed by the way he kept ushering you back to bed. Of course he would be very gentle with you, but right now, you didn't need anything more than what he was giving you.

Quickly, you finished texting Cam and Maria, then you tossed your phone aside. When you rolled Bradley onto his back, he was smiling as he whispered, "How's my Nugget?" while he played with your necklace charms.

Your visit to the emergency room after you fell at work had been terrifying, but having Bradley around always made you feel stronger. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

With those words, you were on your back once again, and Bradley's lips were skimming along your belly. "Hey, Rosie. You having fun in there?" He grinned and glanced up at you, letting his mustache tickle your skin as he said, "Daddy would love to be inside Mommy, too."

You snorted in response, something stirring the way it always did when Bradley's big, brown eyes were focused on you. "I mean... I don't have to be at brunch until eleven."

His biceps were on display along with his messy hair, and you were never going to stop wanting him. But he was shaking his head slowly as he told you, "I'm in no rush to make that happen. Let's see what Dr. Morris says tomorrow. You're supposed to be taking it easy, and so is Rose."

"You're right," you agreed, still biting your lip as the sensation of Bradley's mouth on your body.

"I love you," he whispered against your belly before hovering over your body to kiss your lips. "And I love you, Sweetheart. And you're never allowed to scare me again."

When he eventually drove you to brunch, he refused to just drop you off and come back. Instead, he walked you inside, his big hand wrapped around yours, and took you all the way to the table where Cam and Maria were waiting.

"Hey," he greeted your friends, yanking his aviators down his nose as he wrapped his arm around you. "She's supposed to be eating plenty of healthy foods rich with nutrients and vitamins. Can the two of you be responsible for what she orders?"

"Roo," you whined, rolling your eyes, but your friends just nodded up at your husband.

"Yes," they recited in unison.

"Excellent," Bradley replied, largely ignoring your complaints as he added, "And you'll make sure she drinks at least three glasses of water?"

"Yes," they repeated.

"Perfect," he muttered, leaning in to give you a kiss while his hand slid down your belly. "Text me when you want me to come get you, Sweetheart."

As he walked away, you sighed, but both of your friends had their eyes glued to him. "Damn," Maria said as you took the seat across from her. "He means business."

Cam bit his knuckle before he picked up the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order. "You're so fucking lucky you have such a bossy husband," he complained. "And one with a mustache. If I didn't like you so much, I would hate you."

You watched Bradley's broad back as he exited the restaurant and headed toward the red Bronco, pushing his sunglasses into place as he went. "I would probably hate me, too," you murmured, picking up your first of three glasses of water and taking a long sip.

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Bradley ran around with his checklist on Monday morning so he didn't forget anything. You mom taught him how to make overnight oatmeal in the slow cooker, which seemed to be the only kitchen appliance that he was able to master on the first try. He fucking loved that thing; you just tossed food into it, and it turned into a meal like magic. He vaguely remembered his mom having one, which just made it even better.

Every time he thought about his parents, he had to stop and catch his breath. His desire to do this right was overwhelming. After you fell at work, he knew there was no margin for error. He filled up a cup with water and carried it back to the bedroom where he hoped you were still asleep, but you weren't even there.

"Baby Girl?" he called out, but then he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you shuffled back in from the bathroom.

"You're making me drink too much water," you grumbled as he ushered you back to bed. "I can't stop peeing."

He set the new cup down and picked up the used one. "Just humor me, please. I'll come back to pick you up at 11:45 to take you to Dr. Morris. I'll feel a lot better after she examines the two of you, and I have a list of seventeen questions for her."

You looked at him like he was joking. He wasn't. "Mmkay, Roo. Come back and get me later," you said, kissing his lips before climbing back into bed.

When he got to base, everyone was asking about you."She's at home resting," he assured Nat. "She's sore and tired, but the baby is moving around a bunch. I'm taking them to get checked out again at lunchtime today. Oh, and thanks for getting groceries for me. And driving me to the emergency room. And making sure I didn't have a full nervous breakdown."

Nat gave him a big hug. "Literally what I'm here for, Soul Sister. Just keep me in mind when nominations come out for godparents," she told him with a wink.

"Huh," he grunted, because he hadn't even thought about that. If he had to choose someone, he would probably want it to be Nat, but he didn't know where you stood on the topic, so he didn't say another word about it. When he had to get in his Super Hornet and take off, his mind shifted back to Friday, and a flash of panic went through his body as his wheels left the runway.

"Rooster, do you copy?" He realized Maverick had asked him something, but he had no idea what. All he could picture was your tear streaked face as you lay in the hospital bed shivering.

"Say again?" he asked, hand gripping the throttle as he tried to focus. He should have used a vacation day, but he was trying to save them up for after the baby was born. He was kind of terrified that you'd have to go out on medical leave, and he knew he wasn't going to feel better about any of this until he heard from Dr. Morris.

"Meet Payback at the rendezvous point," Maverick repeated, and Bradley pushed his nervous energy to the side. How much trouble could you get into at home with Tramp anyway?

The answer was apparently a lot. When he walked in the door to pick you up for your appointment, he headed for the bedroom only to find you sitting on the floor of the baby's nursery with the dog next to you. "What are you doing?" he asked with a sigh. "You were supposed to be resting all morning."

"Relax," you told him, holding up your hands in surrender. "I got bored, so I just started sorting the baby clothes."

He cradled his forehead in his hand. "Baby Girl. You're killing me. Tell me you at least ate lunch? And drank enough water?"

"Three glasses of water," you replied, holding up three fingers and nodding. "And a peanut butter and hot sauce and jelly sandwich. And carrot sticks dipped in ketchup."

Bradley wanted to gag just thinking about it, but he supposed that was actually pretty good for you. "Excellent," he replied, reaching down to help you stand up. "We need to get going. Now."

"Oh," you whispered, kissing his cheek once you were on your feet. "You're really hot when you're being bossy."

Bradley sighed and let his head tip back as you ran your hand down the front of his flight suit. "If, and only if, Dr. Morris says having sex is okay, I could get real bossy with you later if you give me an attitude about eating your dinner."

You squeaked in delight and practically ran out of the room. "Let's get going," you called over your shoulder. "The sooner we ask, the sooner we can potentially fuck."

Bradley grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator on his way to help you put your shoes on, and he was trying not to laugh the entire time. "Drink this," he told you before tying your shoes. Then he kissed you hard before leading you out to the red Bronco.

Once he backed out of the driveway, you reached for his hand. Bradley drove with the radio playing softly, and eventually you squeezed his fingers and admitted, "I am a little nervous though."

So was he, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "We'll figure it out. You don't have to worry about it alone."

He held your hand in the waiting room, and he had his arm wrapped around you when the nurse called you back to be examined. They took about a million samples from you before you were allowed to get cozy on the exam table with him sitting by your side, gently rubbing your left hand without touching your stitches. He was just thinking about what he was going to cook for dinner when Dr. Morris finally walked in.

"It sounds like you had a bit of a scare on Friday," she remarked, carrying your chart in her hand.

"Yes," you said sheepishly. "It was really scary."

"Well," she sighed, taking a seat with a smile, "let's take a look."

You were gripping Bradley's hand as Dr. Morris got the ultrasound equipment ready, and a few seconds later, Rose was squirming around on the huge monitor. "She got so big," he gasped. "Sweetheart, look at her!"

"I see her, Roo."

Dr. Morris looked completely calm, but Bradley asked, "Is she okay? After the fall?"

"She's just fine. Heartbeat is good. She's nice and strong."

"Excellent," he replied while you laughed in relief.

"However," Dr. Morris added, making his heart skip a beat, "we do need to talk about preeclampsia."

Your face fell when Bradley looked at you. "I have preeclampsia?" you asked softly.

Your doctor nodded. "A mild case, but yes. The baby looks fantastic, but I'm going to need you to monitor your blood pressure daily at home. And I have a list of foods you should eat as well as ones to avoid. And you need to eat and drink regularly so you don't faint again."

"Am I allowed to go back to work?" you asked.

"Yes. With the promise that you won't overdo it. And if you start to feel light headed, you need to sit down immediately and call me."

"Right," you agreed. "And is it safe to fuck my husband?"

"Sweetheart," Bradley groaned, resting his forehead against your arm in embarrassment.

"What?" you asked while Dr. Morris chuckled. "You wanted to know, too!"

Bradley shook his head as your doctor had mercy on him and said, "You can absolutely have sex with your husband as long as it's not causing you stress or raising your blood pressure too much. Monitor it. Keep an eye on it."

"Right," you agreed again, giving Bradley side eye as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"I have a few more questions for you, Dr. Morris. If you don't mind." He cleared his throat and started to read his seventeen questions, nodding at each answer until he got to his last one. "And how about a babymoon vacation? Is that something we can do?"

"I don't see why not," she said with a smirk. "Assuming your blood pressure doesn't get too high, and as long as you go in the next few weeks if air travel is involved. You're only ten weeks or so from your due date."

Well, that certainly put things into perspective for Bradley. He had a few ideas of where he wanted to take you, but now he was going to have to plan quickly and try to get some days off from work.

"Do you think I should change into my maternity tent and go to work for the afternoon?" you asked as he led you out of the appointment.

"Absolutely fucking not," he replied, feeling much better but still wanting you to rest a little more. "I'm going to take you back home where you will relax and eat a healthy snack, and then I'll come home and make dinner."

You looked up at him in awe. "Those are words I legitimately never thought I would hear you say unironically."

"Get used to them," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you before you climbed into the Bronco. "And you better not give me an attitude about it, or else I could end up getting really bossy." He clicked your seatbelt into place with a grin as you clapped your hands.

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"You made spaghetti?" you asked, arms crossed over your chest.

"Yes," Bradley replied easily where he stood in the kitchen hours later wearing your I Love Meat apron and holding a slotted spoon. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yeah. I'm not eating it. I don't want spaghetti."

"Hmm," Bradley hummed, carefully setting down the spoon and turning off the stove burner. "It sounds like you're giving me an attitude."

You had to squeeze your thighs together, already so turned on as he closed the distance to you while you said, "Maybe I am." You jutted your chin out at him and added, "What are you going to do about it?"

His gaze dipped down from your face to your breasts which were practically spilling out of your stretchy tank top. He had an erection which you could clearly see through his gym shorts and the apron. "I'm going to give you an attitude adjustment," he growled, pulling you closer to him. "And then you're going to eat the fucking dinner that I made for you without complaining."

You were already panting for him, so excited over this little roleplay exercise, but you squealed in surprise when he yanked your top clear off and and immediately got handsy. His thumbs were rough on your nipples as he stroked them and pressed your breasts together. Then he let his right hand slide down your backside where he gave you one soft swat and barked, "Hands on the counter."

You did as you were told, already rolling your hips as he stood behind you and yanked your shorts and underwear down. "Bradley," you whined when you saw the apron fall to the floor at your feet, and a second later, he was pushing his cock inside your pussy as you bent a little more.

He planted his hands on the counter next to both of yours, and he ran his thumb gently along the spot near your stitches as he pushed himself deep. You felt his mustache on your ear as he whispered, "Make sure you relax. No high blood pressure for you, Sweetheart. I love you." Then he started fucking you nice and hard as he growled, "You've had a bad attitude all day. You know that? It's about time I fucked it out of you."

"Oh god!" you moaned in excitement. "Please do, Daddy."

He went hard, alternating between talking sweet and scolding you for being bad. "You're so damn hot, I can barely stand it," he crooned. "You'll eat the fucking dinner I made, and you'll say thank you," he grunted, getting you more and more worked up as you gripped at the countertop. "You gonna eat the spaghetti?" he asked, fingers dipping below your belly to find your clit. "Huh?"

"Yes!" you shouted, eyes fluttering closed as he stroked you in slow circles that got faster and tighter. "Yes!"

Bradley's lips were pressed to the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you were treated to the deep, guttural sounds he made as his hips slapped against your butt. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on." As soon as you felt that first perfect clench of your ograsm, he was coming too. "That's it," he groaned. "That's a good girl."

You were still bumping your body back against his, coming down from your high, when he wrapped both hands around to your belly and asked, "You feel okay? The Nugget's okay?"

"So good," you gasped, finally pulling your hands away from the counter. "Perfect."

You spun in his arms with a smile on your face, and your belly bumped his abs. His cheeks were all flushed, and he looked a little tired, but he was smiling as his cum dripped down your thighs. "You hungry for the spaghetti?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his fingers.

"Starving," you replied, finally sated.

Two minutes later, you were sitting on Bradley's lap at the dining room table with one huge plate of spaghetti and two glasses of water. "I can't believe you made this. It smells incredible, Roo," you praised.

"Your mom helped a lot," he replied, but you could hear the pride in his voice. "Did you know you're supposed to add salt to the water before you cook pasta?"

You tried not to laugh as you twirled spaghetti onto your fork and took a bite. "This is delicious. And yes, I did know that."

"Is that why it always tasted so much better when you made it? I never did that before today."

God, you loved him so much, it was ridiculous. You'd been cooking for the two of you for years now, but he stepped out of his comfort zone as soon as you fell at work, knowing you couldn't keep doing all of this by yourself. Instead of answering his question, you said, "I could never love anyone else as much as I love you."

"Same," he replied easily. "It's just you and Rosie for me. That's why I spent my afternoon planning out the perfect babymoon."

"You did?" you asked, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

"Keep eating, and I'll tell you more," he promised, nudging your shoulder before taking a bite for himself.

Once you were eating again, he said, "As long as you can get a few days off at the end of the month, I want to take you somewhere that is plentiful with hot sauce."

"Del Mar?" you asked, thinking of the hot sauce restaurant and the reservation you missed on your birthday.

He gave you a bland look. "Come on, even I can do better than that."

"I don't know," you said with a laugh, and he nudged you again to take another forkful.

"Beautiful beaches. Spicy food. And a hot sauce making workshop," he whispered, and you nearly dropped your fork.

"You and Jake didn't try to make hot sauce again, did you?" When you thought about the disgusting bottle of spicy vinegar your husband brought home as a treat, you almost wanted to cry. "Please tell me no."

"Sweetheart," he said with a laugh. "I'm talking about Mexico!"

"Oh!" you gasped in excitement.

He looked so pleased with himself as he said, "It's a short plane ride away. We'll just go for a few days. It'll be like our honeymoon in Hawaii all over again, but this time you'll be pregnant in your little red bikini with your rooster tattoo on display."

You bit your lip as his hand settled on your thigh. "You really thought this through."

"I did," he replied. "You wanted a babymoon, and Dr. Morris said it's okay, so you're getting a babymoon. Now let's finish eating so I can check your blood pressure and clean the kitchen."

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The next few weeks of work were tedious. Your lab mates often treated you like you were made out of porcelain, about to fall over at the slightest inconvenience. Even Bickel got into a bit of a habit of going easy on you before you met with him to tell him you were eating and staying hydrated and could carry your normal workload.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Cat told you one day as you sat in front of your computer working some calculations in the software. "Do you want anything? Maybe a snack?"

"You don't have to be so nice to me right now," you replied. "In fact, please don't."

She scoffed. "Are you trying to insinuate that I'm usually mean to you or something?"

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You're certainly never this nice. And I mean that in a good way. I think I got used to you being a bit rough around the edges most of the time, and I like it that way."

"Who took care of your wedding rings?" she asked. "And who helped you battle your morning sickness in Annapolis?"

"You did," you replied easily. "But you're never this sweet to anyone besides Jeremiah and Jake. The two loves of your life."

She was silent for a beat before she said, "I'll just get you some juice." She left the lab, and you smiled. Jake wanted to get married, but she was putting up a hell of a fight even as she was steadily paying down the debt her husband accrued while Jake paid for Jeremiah's daycare on base.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes as you yawned. Getting Rose on the waitlist for the daycare was something you kept forgetting to take care of, and it really needed to be done. You were leaving for Mexico in just a few days, but there were so many things you wanted to take care of first. Maybe you could ask Bradley to take care of this one agenda item, since he kept insisting your top priority was taking care of yourself. You could practically hear him tell you that the only person he trusted with the loves of his life was you.

By the time he met you in the parking garage at the end of the day, you were yawning nonstop. "Hey, I don't like that," he said right away, jogging the last bit to get to you. "You're really tired, Sweetheart."

"I am," you agreed. "But I ate a salad and an enormous bowl of soup for lunch, and I had two snacks today."

He kissed your forehead as he muttered, "Taking perfect care of my girls. I'll get you home and feed you dinner, and then we can start packing for our trip before you go to bed early. Oh, and I got the Nugget on the waitlist for daycare today."

"Bradley," you moaned, leaning into him. "You're the best husband. And like seriously, I don't even know how to deal with how fucking much that turns me on."

He kissed your forehead again and said, "Okay, we can definitely add sex to the agenda if we stop wasting time and head home immediately."

"I'll get undressed while you drive," you joked, playfully unbuttoning your horrible shirt while he buckled you in.

"Baby Girl, those massive tits could cause an accident," he warned before he groaned. "Holy shit, all I can think about is you wearing that little bikini with your belly and fucking gorgeous tits all over the place. Everyone is going to be looking at me next to you, knowing I got you like this." His hand rested on your bump, and he swallowed hard. "Knowing that's my baby."

"Seriously," you panted. "We need to get home now."

Bradley drove at a respectable speed and made you swear you would eat the dinner he made. Then when you got home, he checked your blood pressure and had you drink a glass of water. It was only at that point that he fucked you into the mattress, really rather lovingly, before he served you dinner.

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Next up is the babymoon of her dreams. Then Natasha is planning a baby shower that will probably be a nightmare. Then it's time for the Nugget to make her grand entrance! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

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Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be.

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot.

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long.

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself.

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all!

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place.

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word.

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather.

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end.

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present.

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month.

The extra time was sorely appreciated.

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times.

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years.

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings.

Probably.

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing.

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it.

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them.

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping.

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically.

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again.

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day.

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it.

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese.

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her.

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table.

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath.

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either.

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable.

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily.

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?"

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious.

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her.

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang.

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old.

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda.

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship.

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened.

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer.

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after.

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care.

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her.

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it.

Wanda's first break-up with Vision.

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott.

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you.

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!"

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly.

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence.

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone.

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake.

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start.

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally.

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation.

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts.

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible."

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down.

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance.

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you.

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here.

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking.

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment.

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda.

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing.

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself.

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it.

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder.

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it.

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself.

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth.

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge.

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving.

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer.

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date."

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up.

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all.

PART THREE

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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astralnymphh · 8 months

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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate before reading. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

jackson!ellie who makes the first move? kiss–wise. cause okay— we've got the scene from the actual game where dina locks in that first kiss, a drunken whim, and whatnot, but what about ellie doing so? allow me to conjure a picture up; that freckled, mellow–eyed portrait leveled to your face, her lips pinched to a demure crease— tense enough on the corners to hollow her dimples, the fat auburn worms above her eyes tweaking alongside a nod to your wisping words that enlighten her very eager brain right now, arms slack to wrap your waist and frisky warm upon the sacral of your spine with palms overlaid, waddling in a legato and sluggish manner to each pace of song. your lips are consistently ashift, lacing over every honeyed vowel that kept this silly little girl christened ellie— too attentive. eyes unto your lips, pupils enlarge and bedim all color to her organ–throbbing crush on you, a feeling, fennels and columbines a manifestation inside her flattered eyes watching you speak, "y'know, i just think that everybody on patrol is a dumb cunt, n' can't shoot for shit. maria needs to reassign." and, my. how words of curses and a rigid, shit–talking nature blow from your throat like a damn aria, on and on rambling, contract some balled sensation in ellie's gut to burst open a thousand angels serenading— their feathers a silken uncomfortableness in her guts. how it pushed her, made her spine shiver, made her face slowly tilt in, made her brows flinch sunken into the sea of her skin, and a little voice compelled her when you spoke, "totally should assign you and i—" mmmph. two mouths sealed as one. ellie, who was already a magnet, reached voice to voice and consumed the trails of your speech, flesh chapped yet somewhat plump and velvety of a 'sorry' she could not push into vocals rolled over the knoll of yours, pursing her top lip inside as her mouth steals your bottom one, an ample pressure on your inner–cheek that smushes her cute button nose as it pokes, and releases when she departs your consumption of that sudden kiss. her face lingers, still slanted, eyes darting across your face maddenly for any ounce of a reaction written in flesh, unsure on whether to sanction you some breathing room or to mention boldly about it— but you're too damn pretty to fleet away, so she decides to act somewhere balanced upon that spectrum gently, "did i do okay?" not 'was that okay?' nor 'fuck, m'sorry.' but those foolproof words, yet the look of a lost puppy was most pitiful on her features. you chuckle dry, and her palms flock to your waist— gripping, narrowing the answer out of you so timid, you have to chuckle the reply out as well, "more than okay," and you soften, bored of the blurry, obnoxious string lights a mere background to her big head, "very okay, williams." and shut the scene to nothing, pulling her rosy heat on your lips, once more.

sorry gays, idk what came over me. fluffy hours

(gif from nramvv on pinterest)

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5

A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

This is not going to plan at all.

Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!

But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.

[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?

[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.

[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.

[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.

[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.

[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.

He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.

Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.

"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.

You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.

He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!

God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.

And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.

"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.

"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-

"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.

"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.

Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?

But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.

The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 13 days

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Don't Speak 49

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: mondays are for pain.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“What’s wrong with her?” Ann’s sharp tone is dulled behind the dim blur all around you.

“She... she’ll be fine. She’s... adjusting,” Steve explains hesitantly.

A heavy sigh makes your shiver, an echo of another monster. You sink further down into the bed, eyes shut, body locked up. You couldn’t move if you tried.

“You had to get her? She’s stupid. Maria wasn’t--”

“Shut up about Maria,” Steve barks at Ann. “She’s gone. You want a kid, this is what we do.”

“Should we... should we talk about this here?” She asks.

“You’re the one who brought it up, Ann,” he retorts. “Besides, she’s dissociating. She probably thinks she’s at home. It’s better she’s like this. Easier.”

“It won’t be when--”

“Shut up,” he snarls again. “Go.”

Silence. Tense and thick. Finally, a set of footfalls depart and another come closer. You don’t react as the figure sits on the edge of the bed, not even as they touch your shoulder through the layers of blankets.

“Sweetie, how are you doing?” Steve coos. “You wanna get up? You must be hungry.”

You don’t answer him. You can’t. You’re embarrassed. He’s right about you. Ann is right about you. You’re broken. That fact doesn’t hurt as much as another epiphany; he chose you because of that. You’re not special, you’re not pretty, he doesn’t want you. They want what you can give them. Just like Andy.

“Can I bring you some food? You have to eat, sweetie,” rubs your shoulder. “Not just for you.”

You want to scream. Just the very thought of having a baby makes your skins crawl. Your muscles constrict to the point of agony every time you try to imagine it. To you, the very idea is a like a parasite invading your body.

Just like they did.

Andy. Ann. Steve.

She’s right. You are stupid. You made the same mistake twice. Worse, you betrayed and abandoned the only person who every cared about you. The person who would never violate you or call you dumb and useless. You left Amber behind but you think it’s better that you did. Better for her.

You have no where to go. You’re trapped. This is how it’s going to be. You’re going to keep letting them use you and then you’re going to have a baby. A baby! A baby? No, no, no.

“Sweetie,” Steve pulls down the blanket to caress your face, “you wanna come to the office today? We can talk. Maybe after, we can go shopping. We’ll need to start getting stuff for the nursery.” You shudder as he strokes along your cheek, “you know, me and Ann, we never thought we could have another. You’re... you’re giving us an amazing gift. You’re making our dreams come true.”

You stay as you are. He takes a deep breath and spreads his hand over your head. He bends over you and brushes his lips along your temple and to your ear.

“Get the fuck up.”

His voice makes you squeak and recoil. As you try to pull away, he catches the back of your head and keeps you there. Your eyes flick open and you gape up at him. He makes you sit up as he grips your skull between his large hands.

“You’re not going to do this. Not to my baby,” he snarls, “so get up, get dressed, and be a good girl, dove.”

You pout and your eyes wet, “Steve, please--”

“You keep this up, and I’ll have to go see how your sister’s doing...” he intones. “Living all alone, she must miss you.”

“What?” You croak.

“Someone has to keep an eye on her,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You whine.

“You really want me to say it?” He snarls.

“No, why? Why? You know—I t-t-told you—Andy--”

He shoves you back down, so hard your neck snaps back and you bite your tongue, “don’t say his fucking name to me. Don't even breathe him in the same sentence as me. I’m not like him and you know that, sweetie. Look how much I’ve helped you. How much I’ve actually helped you.”

He stands and kicks the bed. “I’m giving you a purpose. Something you never had before.” He scoffs and paces around as you rub your neck, “you were nothing before. No one wanted you, no one needed you.”

“Stop, please. That’s mean--”

“The truth hurts, baby,” he growls. “So let’s get the fuck up and go.”

You sniffle and shakily push yourself up. Your heart races and the rampant beat pounds in your ears. You push yourself to the edge of the bed and the blankets slip away from your body. As you stand, his eyes flash at you.

You’re still naked. They just leave you like that when they’re done. You cross the room but don’t make it to the dresser. He catches you by your arm and drags you back.

“Not so fast,” he shoves you towards the bed. “Just to make sure,” he forces you onto the bed. “Open up, baby,” he climbs over you, pinning you as his hand creeps between your legs.

You close your eyes again. You recede back into the shell hewn form years of self-hatred and fear. The cocoon that never let you free. You would never fly free and be a butterfly. You would only ever be this. A burden. Nothing.

He ruts into you but you don’t feel it. You can’t. His intrusion doesn’t hurt anywhere as bad as the truth. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself. You chose this.

🕊️

It happens all at once. One moment, you’re sitting there, watching Avery and Harper run in circles around the front room, and the next, you’re keeled over, hurling onto the carpet. You don’t think much of it. Most days, you feel sick. You don’t have an appetite but they make you eat. You still have scratches around your lips from Ann’s manicure.

You stay bent over the carpet, panting. Avery squeals, “Moooom!” and Harper snickers and adds a draw out, “ewwwwwwwww”.

You’re pushed back against the couch. You’re breathless and dizzy. You gulp down the bile and watch Ann grimace down at the puddle between your feet. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Steve,” she rings out.

Another shadow appears. The adults are quiet as the kids loom behind, “is she sick?” Avery asks.

“Go. Take your brother to his room.” Ann snips.

The girl retreats as if away from a lash. You stare up at them. Steve bends and picks you up off the couch. You refuse to set your feet so he carries you away.

“I’m not cleaning this up,” Ann snarls.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “did you check the calendar?”

Footsteps follow him as you hang limp in his arms. He takes you into the bedroom, the dark cell where you languish between their grabbing hands, where you wallow in despair and defeat. He lays you down.

“Makes sense,” Ann drones. “She’s about on track.”

He hums and nods. “I’ll clean up. We need to be sure.”

“I’ll need help,” she sniffs. “Just look at her.”

You stare at the ceiling. The world fades behind the ring of light in your vision as the light bulbs sears into your retina. You close your eyes and everything moves around you as you stay still.

It’s quiet when you rise from the depths. Out of the void of your own mind and the prison of your body. The lamp next to the bed is on and you’re wearing a shirt you’ve never seen before. There’s a faint scent of urine in the air. You’re all alone.

Your stomach turns, mulching in on itself, but you ignore it. You just can’t be bothered. The swell of sickness chokes you and you just wallow it back down. Your body spasms with the effort.

You roll onto your stomach and close your eyes. When you open them again, you’re spewing puke down the bed spread, watching it pool on the hardwood. You wipe your mouth with the back of your head and groan.

An inch away is the bin from the bathroom. If you’d been awake, you might have been able to reach it. You stretch out your arm and drag it closer. There's a rattle in the bottom.

You stare down at the white and blue plastic stick. Without fear, you grab it and bring it up to read the little window. Pregnant. That’s it. That's the end. You drop the test into your own puke and roll onto your other side. You dive back into the despondency of sleep.

You’re woken again by an angry voice. Then a swat on the back of your head, “disgusting, aren’t you?” Ann chides.

You can hear her scrubbing the floor as the smell of puke hangs in the air. Puke and piss. Filthy, like you.

When the room is silent and still, you lay on your back. You’re still nauseous. Weak and tired. Everything is so much more intense than it’s ever been.

The door opens. You don’t react. Steve calls your name and you still don’t answer. He drags you up the bed and makes you sit against the pillows, placed against the headboard. Then he puts the little folding table over your lap. The scent of food makes you grumble.

“You have to eat,” he says. “It’s not just about you anymore, dove.”

His timbre is harsh, hateful almost. He holds up the spoon and you stare it down. You keep your lips sealed.

“Open your damn mouth or I’ll do it for you.”

You wince and obey. You don’t understand why he changed. He used to be nice. He used to be patient and gentle. He said he was going to fix you. You take the mouthful of porridge and swallow without tasting.

“You’re... a doctor,” you squeak.

“Hmm?” He scoops up more of the oats.

“You’re a doctor... you’re supposed to help me--”

“I have helped,” he rams the spoon in your mouth again. “You think it would be any different with him? He wouldn’t want you the minute you got knocked up.” He stirs the bowl as he speaks, “but if you give us a healthy baby, we’ll keep you.”

If.

You open your mouth again. You stay quiet. You don’t like talking to him. Not anymore. It's always about the baby. It’s always spiteful. He hates you.

“You get it?” He sneers. “You are carrying our child, that means you have to take care of yourself,” he grabs your hand and wraps it around the spoon, “you need to grow up.” He guides the spoon into the bowl with a clink. “Because if you don’t start taking care of my baby, then I will make sure you fucking suffer. I’ve lost too much already.”

You whimper and he lets you go. You raise the spoon and lean forward to put the heap of steaming oats between your lips. His eyes are as icy as his words. You’re scared. You’re even more terrified of him than you ever were of Andy.

“Good girl,” he says but it doesn’t make you feel good. Not anymore.

You finish the whole bowl, and the fruit on the side, and the orange juice. He gathers up the tray and leaves you. You slump against the pillows and rub your stomach, trying to calm the storm inside.

It’s more than the latent tide of nausea that makes you restless. You’re head pounds. You can’t even close your eyes. If you sleep any longer, your skull might just split. Your body is achy and your heart feels as if its always racing. You sit up and look around the room.

Nine months. You know that’s how long it takes. You’ll have less than that by now. You’re not sure how long it would be.

You turn and shimmy to the edge of the bed. You slide open the night table drawer and take out your journal. You search through the pages. Steve told you to right down your cycle...

Hm, you can’t figure it out. Probably two months? Maybe less? It doesn't feel like that long.

You put the journal back and your knuckles brush on the smooth cover of your tablet. You pause and lean forward to look into the drawer. You stopped using it because you didn’t want to be reminded of Andy. You couldn’t draw because your hand wouldn’t listen to your brain.

You glance at the door then take out the tablet. You push back into bed and put your knees up, draping the blankets over them so if anyone walks in, you can hide the screen. You press the button on the side. It takes a moment but it lights up.

You wait until the homescreen appears. Thirty percent. You can’t remember where the charger went.

You pull down the notifications. There are a lot. Automatic alerts from the camera at Andy’s house, messages from a strange account that can only be him, and several app updates.

You swipe them all away. You flick over the menu, back and forth, back and forth. You tap on Insta and wait for it to load. Your last post was a year ago; a drawing of a dove...

You go to your followers. You don’t have many but you’re only looking for one. You tap Amber’s picture. Her profile opens and your fingers twitch in surprise. Your fingertip taps the little heart and it blooms red. You quickly press again to undo the like.

Her last post is from a week ago. It’s her and a man. He doesn’t seem to want to be on camera as she kisses his cheek. Oh. You can’t bother her. She’s moved on. She’s happy and you’re going to ruin her life all over again. You’re not her responsibility.

Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at her picture. A red dot appears at the bottom over the chat icon. It blinks as several messages flow in. It's Amber.

‘Hey!’

‘Are u there?’

‘Says ur online. Pls answer me.’

You watch her messages pop up. Your lip trembles. What can you do? What can you say? You wipe your tears and snivel. Hey, sis, got myself knocked up and now I’m scared. No, that’s not it.

You hover your hands over the keyboard and steady them. You blow out between your lips and sort out the words in your head. You tap the letters slowly, taking your time.

‘I just want to say goodbye. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused. I’m glad to see that you’re happy. Love you.’

You read and reread. Over and over. Then you make yourself send it. You don’t wait for her response. What she says, doesn’t matter. She’s free from you. She doesn’t need to worry. You’re not worried either. This is just how it is.

#steve kemp #andy barber #dark steve kemp #dark andy barber #dark!steve kemp #dark!andy barber #steve kemp x reader #andy barber x reader #don't speak #series #fic #librarian au #au #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob #fresh

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peakyswritings · 3 months

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VIII

Summary: As Nina and Tommy slowly appear to come to terms with their feelings, they realise they might not be as discreet as they thought they were. An unexpected visit complicates things.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, Stefano, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: alright it has been awfully long since I last updated this, but believe me when I say I was stuck. Hopefully I’ll be more active from next week on.

As usual, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, but I chose to write them in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). I just kept some words and sentences here and there to give the idea.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

If there was one thing that Maria Ferrante took very seriously, it was the Sunday lunch. She was already up and about at dawn, free to walk from place to place in her kitchen without the rest of the family in the way. She only left it to attend Mass, and once she was home again, there was nothing that could distract her from her cooking. It was known that a good ragù needed to be cooked for hours in order to be perfect, after all.

When Nina walked into the kitchen at eleven a.m., after almost twelve hours of well-deserved sleep, the delicious smell of the sauce filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl.

“You missed church this morning,” her mother scolded her, agitating a wooden spoon in her direction.

“Did I?” She absentmindedly murmured, peeping into the pot. The boiling red sauce, mixed with the finest meat one could find in town, crackled exquisitely, appealing to her empty belly.

“This family lacks discipline,” Maria asserted, moving to cut some vegetables. “I cannot remember the last time we all went to church together. We’re losing all the good habits.”

Too captivated by her new target to pay any attention to her mother’s rants, Nina stealthily took a slice of bread from the basket on the table and put it in a plate. Then, taking advantage of her distraction, she dipped it into the pot.

“Nina!”

With a grin on her face, Nina moved away from the stove, unbothered by her mother’s curses. She took a bite from the bread, and hummed in appreciation when the sauce-covered crumb melted on her tongue. There was nothing like dipping fresh bread in ragù on Sunday mornings. However, her breakfast was soon forgotten when she caught sight of Tommy outside the kitchen, fully dressed and perfectly groomed as usual. Her father was explaining something to him, but they were too distant for her to listen to what they were talking about.

There it was, that strange, funny feeling that seemed to pervade Nina every time he was near. It had grown stronger, since what they had called their “moment of weakness”, and she could no longer lie to herself. She could no longer deny that she was intensely, inevitably drawn to him. She longed for a gaze, a word, an accidental touch, anything that could grant her a fleeting moment of connection. And she couldn’t comprehend how that man, who she had met as recently as a month ago, had managed to invade her every thought, her every desire. She had to force herself away from him. She had to push him out of her mind, so that when the time came to watch him leave, it wouldn’t hurt as much as the thought alone was hurting her now. It wasn’t right. It was fair to Agnese, it wasn’t fair to her family, and it wasn’t fair to herself. She had to let those feelings pass.

She looked away from Tommy, coming back to herself, and when she turned to her right, she noticed her mother was looking at her with a strange look in her eyes. Nina averted her gaze in discomfort, the woman’s inquisitive stare never failing to make her feel like an open book. She walked past her and put her plate in the sink, a poor attempt to escape her piercing eyes, but she could still feel them on her, following her every move. So Nina grabbed the wooden spoon, hoping that making herself useful would do the trick. “The sauce needs stirring.”

Her brothers bursted into the kitchen, diverting her mother’s attention away from her, and Nina almost breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Where have you been?” Their mother asked them, placing her hands on her waist.

“We had some things to take care of,” Pietro said, and Nina figured the vagueness of answer was an answer itself.

“On a rest day?”

“There’s no such thing as a rest day when it comes to business,” Salvatore brushed it off in a playful manner, approaching his mother to place a tender kiss on her cheek. That gesture seemed to make her soften, cause the annoyance slipped out of her face, replaced by an expression of resignation. “You look too beautiful to get angry, mum,” he continued, walking towards the stove.

“Bootlicker,” Nina mumbled, earning herself a kick behind her ankle. “Ouch!” She exclaimed in surprise, sending her brother’s way a sore look. Salvatore, in return, was blatantly smirking to himself. “Stronzo,” she spat out, giving him a shove.

“Keep your hands off me,” he shoved back.

“You started.”

“It was my foot, not my hands.”

“Enough you two,” Maria interrupted them, raising her voice. “See, this is what I mean when I say that this family lacks discipline,” she said to no one in particular.

With the shadow of the smirk still present on his face, Salvatore brought his index in front of his mouth. “Quiet,” he teasingly whispered.

Feeling her blood boil, Nina raised the wooden spoon in the air in a silent threat, but Pietro was quick to take it from her hand. Clearly, he didn’t trust his sister to restrain herself from actually using it. Nina inhaled deeply, telling herself that the angrier she got, the more Salvatore would find satisfaction in bothering her. Much to her luck, her brothers soon decided that the content of the pot was way more deserving of their attention. Making sure their mother was too distracted to stop them, they took a slice of bread each and dipped it in the sauce.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Maria snapped, putting down the knife she was using. With long steps, she walked over to her children. “Out,” she ordered, pushing all three of them towards the door. “No discipline, no discipline at all.”

Vincenzo Ferrante, who just like Tommy had heard all the commotion, shook his head in a mixture of resignation and disapproval at the sight of his snickering children getting out of the kitchen. Concealing his embarrassment, he murmured some excuses to his guest, half relieved by the fact that at least he hadn’t been able to understand the foolish reasons of that fuss.

“Nina!”

Shit. Nina squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, still with her back to the very reason why she had tried to get back into her house as fast as she could. She didn’t have the stomach to face her cousin, not after what she had done, not with the things that she had been hiding from her. That she was still hiding. She had stabbed in the back the only person in her family who had ever shown her an ounce of recognition, who had treated her like a person and not like some bad seed to be rogued out. But maybe that’s exactly what she was. A bad seed.

“Hi,” she faked surprise, turning to face her.

“What have you been up to?” Agnese asked her, adjusting the empty basket she was carrying on her hip. “Feels like you’re ignoring me.”

“I’m not,” Nina replied, maybe a bit too quickly. “I’ve been… busy,” she lied, the pathetic excuse making her feel even worse.

“My mum asked me to go buy some groceries, and I need someone to accompany me,” Agnese said, seemingly oblivious to her cousin’s fib. “I was going to ask Rosa, but why don’t you come with me?”

“Sure.”

Truth was, Nina didn’t want to go. How could she keep on talking to Agnese, spending time with her, all while pretending she hadn’t done something awful to her? And what made her despise herself even more was that guilt wasn’t the only reason why she didn’t want to see her. There was a stinging, but almost imperceptible feeling deep inside her, too close to annoyance, and resentment. Resentment. As if she were in the position to be resentful. Out of all people, Agnese didn’t deserve it. So she swallowed those feelings and went with her cousin.

“Don’t you wanna know how things with Tommy are going?” Agnese asked her as soon as they had passed the gates of their shared garden, her voice tinged with excitement.

“Of course,” Nina nodded, keeping her eyes on the unpaved road beneath her feet.

“You know he had lunch with us a few days ago right?”

“Yes.”

“We all thought he’d finally propose, but he didn’t.”

Nina raised her gaze on her cousin, studying her expression. She still remembered the strange wave of panic that had gone through her when her mother had stormed into the kitchen to give her the news. The poor girl’s desperate, she had told her. “How did you take it?”

“I was worried,” Agnese admitted, moving her basket to her other arm.

“And now?”

“Not anymore. My father talked to him, and he said he just wants to do it the right way. He thought it would be more proper to wait for a month to pass since we met. If everything goes as it’s supposed to go, he’ll propose by the end of the week,” she explained, and the emotion she had tried to hold back came to the surface in all its strength.

“Good,” Nina forced a tight-lipped smile, unable to ignore the vice tightening around her heart.

“Mr. Shelby’s reputation scared me, at first, but he’s a real gentleman. I mean, he’s a bit cold,” she let out a chuckle. “But he has been very kind to me, and never overstepped in any way,” she assured. Then her eyes lit up, and she began talking again. “Did you know he’s a war hero? He won medals.”

And he threw them in the cut, Nina thought to herself. A part of her just wanted to put an end to her cousin’s rants, to tell her that there was nothing she could say about him that she didn’t know already. And that she was so, so wrong about Tommy. That he could be cold, yes, but also so very ardent. That the walls of ice he had built around him weren’t impenetrable, that they could in fact be melted. That he had strong beliefs, and his own sense of justice, and that on such things he’d never compromise. She had learned all that and even more on the nights they had spent together in her kitchen, in front of cups of tea slowly growing cold. But she didn’t have the right to tell her that. Because Tommy didn’t belong to her. Because it was Agnese who would get to see every part of him, and to Nina he would become nothing more than someone she had once deluded herself she could know.

“I’m…” she paused, the insincere words refusing to come out without some insistence on her part. “I’m happy for you.”

Agnese must’ve noticed that something in Nina’s dark eyes didn’t match her words, that a feeling far from happiness was gnawing at her from the inside, because she stopped walking and placed a hand on her arm. “You’ll find someone too,” she said softly. “Be patient.”

Nina shook her head, a bitter smile making its way on her face. “I don’t want anyone, Agnese.”

“Do you really want me to believe that you wish to be alone?” She took on a scolding tone, widening her eyes in disbelief.

“My aspirations are different than yours,” Nina said firmly, holding her gaze. “And I’d rather be alone than caged.”

“Marriage is not necessarily a prison,” she insisted, her lips curving up in reassurance. “I know I haven’t known him for long, but I can tell Mr. Shelby is not a brute. You might find someone like him.”

No, she wouldn’t. Tommy was like no one she had ever met. There were so many layers to him, so many contradictions that she could live a hundred lives and never meet someone like him. But on one thing Agnese was right: deep down, as preposterous as it sounded, he was good.

“He’s the exception.”

“What are these?”

Putting down the vegetables she had bought for her mother, Nina looked at the bouquet of red roses resting on the table. She was pretty sure they weren’t there before she left the house.

“What do they look like to you?” Her mother asked rhetorically, raising her eyebrows. She looked significantly calmer than a few hours ago, and Nina wasn’t sure whether that was because she was almost done with the lunch or because of the flowers. “Stefano brought them for you,” she explained, going to grab the grocery bag.

It took Nina more than a moment to register her mother’s words. She blinked, her mouth going dry as the memories of what had happened the last time he had been at her house came to her mind. She shifted her gaze from the roses to her mother, then to the roses again.

“He was coming back from church, when he saw them at the flower shop,” Maria continued, taking the vegetables out of the bag. “He said they made him think of you, and thought about making a little deviation to bring them here.”

At that point, Nina wasn’t even listening to her anymore. All she could do was stare at the roses in front of her, her heart racing at the realisation that Stefano was actually moving in that direction.. “This can’t be fucking real…” she murmured. “He’s not seriously doing this.”

“…so I invited him for lunch.”

“You did what?” Her head snapped in her mother’s direction, Maria’s statement harshly pulling her back to reality.

“He’s in your father’s study, talking to him. The boy’s serious about you Nina.”

In a sudden fit of rage, Nina grabbed the flowers and strode toward the bin, but before she could throw them away, her mother snatched them from her hand. “I didn’t raise you to be rude,” she scolded her. “It’s a gift, and gifts must be accepted.”

“I don’t want his gifts,” Nina spat out. “I don’t want anything from him. And I don’t want him. He can make his peace with that.”

Maria let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Nina,” she started, putting down the flowers. “He’s a nice guy-”

Nina scoffed, causing her to stop mid-sentence. So nice that he dared touch me in my own house.

“He’s a nice guy,” her mother repeated, louder this time, a way to tell her not to interrupt her again. “He talked to your father, brought you flowers. You’re twenty-two, it’s time for you to find someone. And this is an occasion. He’s willing to marry you despite-”

This time it was Maria who stopped herself. She bit the inside of her cheek, searching for better words, but Nina didn’t give her the chance to. She crossed her arms over her chest, squinting her eyes. “Despite what?” She asked, watching as her mother averted her gaze. “Despite what, mum? Despite who I am? Despite what I think? Despite what people say about me?”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I think that’s exactly what you meant,” she said coldly. A silence full of tension fell between them, and deep inside Nina hoped her mother would say something to make up for what she had just said. But she didn’t. So she put on the mask of indifference that had become so natural to her, and pretended that those words hadn’t gotten to her.

She was used to it, after all. All her life, Nina had watched her mother hope she could just be different. She had never missed the embarrassment on her face when someone pointed out her child’s peculiarities, nor the subtle envy she could see in her eyes when she looked at her nieces. All beautiful, well-mannered, pleasant, suitable for marriage. That’s what she expected to have when a daughter was finally born. Instead, she got her. She didn’t need to say it out loud for Nina to know that she wondered every day why her daughter couldn’t be a bit less like herself and a bit more like them.

It was tiring, to constantly feel the pressure to live up to everybody’s expectations, to know that she would be considered a disappointment no matter what. And although she wasn’t waiting for anybody’s approval, it would’ve felt nice to have at least one person who understood her. She didn’t want the life her parents wished for her, and at the same time she had no way of living the life she wished for herself. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she wished for herself. She only knew what she didn’t want. Yet it felt like every effort she made not to end up like her mother was inexorably guiding her to that fate.

Tommy didn’t understand the reason why Nina strode out of the kitchen with a face like thunder until lunchtime. The whole family was sitting around the table in the garden that separated the two houses. The arrangement was pretty much the same as every time they had lunch together. Vincenzo Ferrante was at the head, his wife on his left side, Pietro on his right. Salvatore was sitting between him and Nina. However, something was different this time: next to Nina was sitting Stefano. His jaw clenched at the memory of what he had walked into the other day, and his hands itched with the urge of doing what Nina had stopped him from doing. Spinietta must’ve sensed his staring, cause he raised his gaze on him with a hint of smugness on his face. He didn’t know why he was there, he didn’t know exactly what Nina’s past with him was, but it was clear there was some kind of pressure going on. She was keeping herself closer to her brother, in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between herself and Stefano, and apparently pretended he wasn’t there. Tommy could only imagine how hard it was for her to sit next to that poor excuse of a man.

Mario Ferrante, who was sitting at the end of the table with wife on his right side and the other two of his daughters on his left, glanced at him and Agnese from time to time.

Agnese. Tommy had lost track of their conversation long ago. It had become more of a monologue on her part. But how was he supposed to listen to a single word she said when something so unfair was happening right in front of him?

The one thing that brought him some relief was that Nina could find some distraction in her conversation with her brother. Salvatore said something to her, and her frown was replaced by a laugh. It enlightened her whole features, and Tommy couldn’t keep himself from lingering on the way her irises, hit by the sunlight, were marked by golden flecks. A pink tinge warmed her cheeks and two dimples were showing at the corners of her lips. For a moment she looked relaxed, off-guard, even. Lost as he was in that rare sight, Tommy didn’t even notice that a faint smile had appeared on his face. But Agnese did. Her words slowly died out, and her brows furrowed as she followed the trajectory of his eyes.

Before she had the chance to say something, Vincenzo Ferrante got up, causing the chatter to fade.

“Before the wine starts speaking for us, I’d like to say a few words,” he announced, his Italian accent threading through his words. His eyes travelled around, stopping briefly on each person at the table. “You see,” he began once everyone’s attention was on him. “Our family and Mr. Shelby’s family had…” he paused, looking for the right word. “…Misunderstandings. But we were able to communicate with an open mind.” He set his gaze on Tommy, who in return agreed with a single nod. “Now we’re sitting at the same table. Soon, we might even have something to celebrate.”

“Who could’ve guessed it, eh?” Mario Ferrante joked, eliciting laughter from those who could understand him. Maria and Rita Ferrante, whose English was too broken to understand much of what their husbands were saying, simply smiled in support.

“To peace,” Vincenzo said, raising his glass. But when he pronounced his next words, his eyes looked right in his daughter’s. “May we all make our choices with an open mind.”

The lunch proceeded smoothly enough, but it was impossible for Tommy not to sense a general feeling of discomfort. Even the eldest of the Ferrante siblings, Pietro - whose placid expression never gave anything away -, seemed to be upset. There was something going on, and he could just hope it didn’t also involve him. He hadn’t forgotten the dangerousness of his position, alone in a foreign country, surrounded by former enemies with no men on his side.

A sharp noise pulled him out of his thoughts, making him raise his gaze in front of him. Nina had dropped her fork on her plate, visibly bothered by something. More like someone. Because Stefano had been adamant in his attempts to engage her in conversation. Chuckling at her reaction, he pinched her chin with fake playfulness, a gesture that might’ve looked affectionate to less attentive eyes. Tommy tried his best to keep his face straight as his grip on the cutlery tightened. As much as he wished to intervene, there was nothing he could do that wouldn’t raise suspicion. He could just be glad that, surrounded by her family, Stefano wouldn’t be able to try anything again.

For her part, Nina was trying hard not to lose her calm, but they weren’t exactly making it easy for her. Her father’s toast had been the last straw. She hasn’t missed the way he had subtly made it clear that his words were meant for her. She was right, at last. She had been right all along. All that talk about leaving the choice to her was nothing more than empty words, than a way to make her feel like she had some kind of control, when in truth she was just another pawn in his schemes. Because at the end of the day, he was still a man. A man who wanted power, and would’ve done anything in order to achieve it. Even sacrifice his own daughter.

She wanted to leave. She needed to leave. How could everyone pretend everything was fine? How could they sit together and eat when everything was so wrong? How could they digest the hypocrisy? She couldn’t stand them, any of them. Now more than ever. She couldn’t stand their voices, she couldn’t stand their laughter, she couldn’t stand the way they talked and talked and talked. She hated the way they suddenly seemed inhuman. They were all hunching over their plates, chewing and slurping, the awful sounds almost painful to her ears. Even Stefano, who always carried himself with composure and dignity, seemed to have transformed into some feral animal, hands and fingers dirty with crumbles and sauce. Those same hands he had put on her not many days before.

“Excuse me,” she blurted out, abruptly standing up. All eyes were on Nina now, but she ignored the murmurings and crossed the garden to go back to her house before anyone could stop her. She couldn’t stay there anymore. She couldn’t tolerate the little games, and the lies. Even her own lies. Her lies to her family, her lies to herself. She couldn’t.

She grabbed the kitchen counter for support, taking deep breaths to put an order to that vortex of overwhelming feelings.

“What’s wrong, huh?” A familiar voice resounded behind her, making her snap her head up. When she turned around, Stefano was there, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “You’re not having fun?”

“Leave,” Nina commanded, and she didn’t even need to put on a brave facade to spit those words out with all the hatred she felt for him. She had sworn she’d never let herself be scared of him ever again, and she was determined to keep that promise. He had no right to make her feel unsafe in her own home.

“Are you going to embarrass me like that when we’re husband and wife?” Stefano moved away from the door to approach her with slow, measured steps, hands in his pockets. It came as a surprise, how easy it was to end up alone with her. He had just needed to act all concerned and offer to go check up on her - out of apprehensiveness and affection, of course. However, he was aware he had always had a certain influence on people.

Not on Nina, though. She was the one person he had never managed to fool. She had always been able to read right through him. Just like she was reading through him now. He wanted to intimidate her, to prove to her that it was him the one in power, that he was used to take what he wanted, and that he wasn’t above deception.

“Fuck off.”

Stefano tutted. “You really must be taught your place, don’t you?”

“By you?” A laugh escaped her lips, but it held no humour. She was openly mocking him, and that was enough to get under his skin. A veil of darkness seemed to cover his gaze, and he snatched her arm with a swift movement.

“Careful,” he murmured through gritted teeth. Even though her heart was racing in her chest, Nina held his stare, a mixture of anger and mockery in her eyes. She was walking on thin ice, yet she couldn’t help but push his buttons, see how much effort it would take for him to snap. She wanted to be a nuisance to him, to torment him like he had tormented her for all those years, to haunt him with the reminder that it didn’t matter what he did or said, he wouldn’t get what he wanted.

“What’s happening here?” Maria Ferrante entered the kitchen, interrupting that staring match.

Stefano promptly brought his other hand on Nina’s arm, making it look as if he was supporting her. “Nina’s not feeling very well, signora Maria.” His hard expression softened as he put on his usual mask of affability. Nina grimaced, taking a step back, and a wave of relief washed over her. Her skin almost burned where he had touched her, and she felt the sudden need to scrub the imprint of his fingers off.

“Go to your room, then,” Maria said sternly to her daughter, and this time she was not surprised to see her comply without hesitation.

She didn’t believe a single word Stefano had said. She had seen her Nina’s face. She was her child, her blood. And although their relationship seemed to be made of misunderstandings and words left unsaid, she knew her like the back of her hand. She could read through her every expression, every gesture. And she had seen something in her eyes she had never seen until that moment, not even once. Fear. That brave, reckless girl who had never been scared of anything since she had drawn her first breath was afraid of Stefano.

That same guy who always behaved so nicely, who helped her carry her bags, who showed the outmost respect to her husband, who spoke words of affection for their daughter. Now it didn’t seem like an innocent infatuation anymore. Because when he looked at Nina earlier that day, he had the same look in his eyes she had seen in hundreds of men. And when he touched her, he did it as if he was entitled to it. His mask had slipped, and she could finally see him for who he was, behind the pleasant smiles and the charm and the courtesy. Maria could only be thankful to Mr. Shelby for asking her for some more water at just the right moment.

Her gaze went to the knife lying on the table. Men like him, like her husband, like her own sons - mafia men - only understood one language. Stefano’s guard was off, and Maria was quick enough to catch him by surprise. In a matter of seconds she had the knife pointed at his throat, and she was unknowingly pressing the edge of the blade against the small scar that her daughter had given him a few years earlier. He clamped his jaw, keeping himself as far as he could from the blade.

“Tocca di nuovo mia figlia,” she said lowly, gritting her teeth. “E ti sgozzo come un maiale.”

(“You put your hands on my daughter ever again, and I’ll gut you like a pig.”)

NEXT CHAPTER

Heart, Body and Soul taglist

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby taglist:

@50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc

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eff4freddie · 5 months

Text

Touch | Part Eight

You and Ellie grow closer in Joel's absence. Jackson holds its breath for the return of the second expedition.

Words: 6k

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, angst, no smut I'm sorry

A/N: So this is the last big chapter of Touch. I'm planning a smutty epilogue because these two need a proper send off, but the main storyline ends here. Just want to thank you all for your support of this story, which was my first foray into writing fics for a long time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Part Seven | Series Masterlist | Epilogue

You and Ellie fell into a routine of sorts, occupying yourselves while waiting for news. In the morning Ellie would go down to the stables to ‘check the horses’, which you knew was code for her looking to see if Joel had slipped back into Jackson overnight, but he was her dad, and you didn’t begrudge it. You hated when she came back with her shoulders slumped.

Ellie had already decided she didn’t have to go to school given the circumstances, and you had no authority to fight her on it. Occasionally you would mention that Joel probably wouldn’t be pleased when he got back to discover she’d missed classes, and she had been so dismissive of the very idea that it took you right back to eighth grade, trying to hang out with the cool kids and being summarily ignored. You were basically her roommate. Roommates don’t nag each other to do their homework.

You were doing your own maths, anyway. If Marla had ridden through the night with Jacob strapped to her back it meant that the site of the ambush was a two-days ride away at a normal, non-life-threatening pace. It also meant it was a two-day ride back. If they encountered any nastiness on the way there or the way back that could waylay them for a few days, maybe more if there were injuries. And then, of course, there was the infinitely more complicated mathematics of how it would tally if they died. You weren’t sure what you would count, if that happened, if it wasn’t the days until they came back.

You wondered, if none of them made it back, where you would go. You would obviously have to leave Jackson, the destruction you, Ray and Marla wrought on the small community complete at that point. You just weren’t sure where, in which direction. Salt Lake sounded bad, and you were getting tired of the cold. You wondered if you would be able to make it down to the Gulf of Mexico, if you just headed south for as long as you could until you hit ocean. You knew it was unlikely you would be able to do it on your own, and you also knew that you would have to. That at the end of all this it was always going to be you, alone.

It didn’t hurt to think about. You were matter of fact about it. If they didn’t come back, you didn’t deserve to stay. You were pleased with the almost complete detachment you felt at the thought of it. At the freedom.

Maria and Robin dropped by while you were teaching Ellie the muscles of the back and neck, in the hope that she would have some kind of education upon Joel’s maybe-return. She was good at it, too, getting the hang of the Latin despite the language now being even more dead then when you leaned it. When they arrived, Ellie took Robin from Maria and cradled him in her arms, Maria showing her how to support the head while he dozed. For the first time since Ellie had arrived she was still, quiet, over-awed by the tiny, precious life in her arms. You took Maria into the kitchen and poured her some tea.

‘This takes me back,’ she said, and you grinned at her, offering to massage her feet. She demurred. ‘You don’t need to see what I’ve got going on under here,’ she said. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen it for months.’

You knew that Maria was checking on you, and you loved her for it and hated that she had to do it. Robin was only weeks old, barely a month, and yet she was nurturing you. You had barely seen her since the birth, since she had made you feel so necessary, so wanted, and your cheeks burned at the thought of it. The last two friends you had ended up dead or banished. You were just bad at it.

‘Hey,’ Maria said, like she could read your mind. She reached out and put her hand on yours, warm from the tea. ‘It must be weird…no, awful, to be the one left. I can’t imagine.’

You weren’t going to cry in your kitchen with Ellie in the other room holding Maria’s baby. That just wasn’t a thing that could happen. You swallowed hard, heard your jaw click under the strain.

‘I really like Ellie,’ you said, pain blooming from your temple into your eye socket. You consciously stretched your jaw, your hand over your mouth to try and cover it.

‘She’s a good kid, been through a lot,’ Maria agreed.

‘She’s a good distraction,’ you said, and Maria smiled at you.

‘I want you to know you have a place here,’ she said, and you wondered how she always knew the right thing to say, wondered if she could actually hear your thoughts. ‘Tommy…and me, well both of us, Tommy’s worried about you because…not just because of the expedition and the pharmacy and all of that going wrong, he’s worried that…’ Maria gathered herself for a second. ‘He’s worried that you only think of yourself in terms of what you can offer other people.’

You felt the sting of it, the little nerve Maria had unearthed, opened up to the chill of the air. You flinched away from it, but she was still holding your arm, and you realised you hadn’t noticed she hadn’t yet let you go. ‘Listen,’ she said, but kindly, and so you did. ‘When you came here, and we made you stand in front of the town council and basically said you could only stay if you contributed to the community…’

‘I understood that was how it works, of course it does,’ you said, and she raised her hand to shush you. You obeyed, again. She was growing into this mother thing.

‘I realised, we basically told you that all you’re worth to us is what you can do for us. Yes, its important everyone can contribute because that’s how we keep the place running. But I need you to know that’s not your value. I need you to know that.’

It was getting really hard not to cry. You could see her eyes misting over, her mouth in a grim line to bite back the tears. ‘I asked you to help me, to help with Robin, not because I wanted you to do something for me. It was just because…I just like you, is all.’

You didn’t even really think about it, you just grabbed her into your body and held her, and you felt her shaking a little, like she had been so terrified to tell you, and you didn’t want the Gulf of Mexico. You wanted her in your kitchen and Ellie in your loungeroom with Robin. You wanted Tommy chopping wood or storing coal or doing whatever the fuck manly shit needed doing around the place. You wanted Joel standing in his socks at the counter burning the toast and swearing under his breath about it. You wanted what you had always wanted, which was just to belong.

You pulled back from Maria, rubbing furiously at your eyes. She wiped the tears from hers.

‘I like you too,’ Ellie said, from the doorway, and you both startled, which made her jump a little, which jostled Robin, who delivered several pointed arguments about his thoughts on the experience.

‘Fuck, sorry,’ Ellie said, the panic written all over her face. ‘Oh fuck, I said fuck,’ she said, looking at you for help. You looked to Maria, who regarded you both with an amused expression on her face.

‘You two are as bad as each other,’ she said. She took Robin from her, and Ellie settled down at the table. For a second there was just the sound of Robin, grizzling in his mother’s arms.

‘Hey, Maria,’ Ellie said, lifting her hand to point to the muscle at the side of her neck under her ear. ‘Levator scap-yew-lay’ she said. You applauded her; genuinely, warmly, proudly.

You weren’t really ready to emerge from your cocoon, would have stayed hermitty and weird forever, except that Ellie wasn’t having it. For one she couldn’t sit still in the house for days on end, but she was still only fourteen and the idea that something might happen to her because you let her go out while you let yourself rot on the couch was even less palatable than having to be social.

The first time she took you to the mess hall you felt the anxiety at the bottom of your lungs, your sternum feeling like it had shrunk in your chest cavity. You were convinced people were staring, resentful of you and all that you brought with you. You didn’t want them to worry for Ellie, didn’t want them to wonder how you were going to corrupt her, end up with her dead or thrown out of the gates. You wanted to sit at one of the back tables, but Ellie was determined not to make any of it easy on you, and steered you over to the main table, the long one in the middle of the room, where a bunch of townsfolk were already chatting. You joined at the end of the row, feeling how you retracted into yourself, feeling your shoulders round over. Ellie sat opposite you and smiled at you, brightly. You realised she was treating you like some kind of project, a rehabilitate-the-crazy-lady experiment, maybe some kind of pet.

‘This is the soup they had the other week,’ Ellie said, gulping it down so fast you were worried she’d give herself indigestion. ‘The chicken one? Do you remember?’

You had no idea what she was talking about, and you stared at her.

‘I brought it round with half the loaf of bread. The kitchen ladies did not want me to have it. So, I swiped it while they were washing up.’

You felt something heavy roll in your stomach. ‘That was you? You brought the food?’ you asked, and you weren’t sure if – when you were finished being flawed – you were disappointed or relieved.

‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’ she asked, and you shook your head.

‘You didn’t leave a note or anything,’ you explained, feebly.

‘I guess not,’ she conceded.

‘I thought it might have been Tommy,’ you lied, unconvincingly, but Ellie wasn’t paying attention.

‘I mean, you were close. It was Joel’s idea,’ she said, and what you now realised was a full-sized boulder turned again in your gut.

‘It was?’ you squeaked, and she nodded into her nearly empty plate. You pushed your soup around, your mind trying too hard to digest this new information to turn itself to eating.

‘Did he say anything else?’ you asked, but you were interrupted by Tommy bursting into the mess hall, his eyes wide and scanning over the crowd.

‘They’re back!’ he called, and several people immediately rose, hustled for the door.

‘How many?’ someone yelled back, and Tommy nodded, but there was something wrong, something grim on his face that you didn’t want to acknowledge, didn’t want to even consider.

‘All of ‘em,’ he said, but then he faltered, and swallowed hard, and you knew, then, were already getting to your feet. ‘Some of them are in a bad way,’ he said, and he was looking at you and then looking at Ellie, and you were tucking her under your arm as you pulled her towards him at the door.

‘She shouldn’t see,’ he said to you, quietly, and you shook your head at him.

‘Try and fuckin’ stop me,’ she said, before you’d even had a chance to speak. He sighed, but you were past him then, your arm on the door pushing it open for her, shoving her through first.

The infirmary was only three rooms connected by a short corridor, and in times of serious outbreak or multiple injury it was woefully understaffed, under resourced.

There had already been some kind of make-shift triage for the returned residents, two of the men assigned to one room since they only needed looking over and could then be let go, but Dougie told you, pulled both you and Ellie aside to murmur in your ear, that Joel had his own room. The one next to the surgery.

‘Is he dead?’ Ellie asked, and if you didn’t know her as well as you now did you would have mistaken her bluntness for coldness, for desensitisation, but you knew instead that she was steeling herself, that if there was going to be pain she wanted it now, fast and hard, to rip into it with bared teeth.

Dougie shook his head, and you exhaled for maybe the first time, ever, in your life.

‘He’s not in a good way,’ Dougie said, but Ellie was already marching down the hall to see him, and you were already trailing behind her, your head over your shoulder to offer Dougie your whispered, harried thanks.

But you stopped when you got to his door, let Ellie slip through without you, suddenly considering that you could be intruding, that he had no interest in your being there, didn’t even know you’d been caring for his daughter while he was gone, or that she had been caring for you. You didn’t even really know him, weren’t sure how you felt about him, weren’t sure that you wanted to see him bleeding and broken, weren’t sure that you could handle not feeling his touch on yours again, his whispered encouragements as you came undone underneath him, the rise and fall of his chest under your ear as you both fought back sleep to stay awake together for just a little bit more increasingly precious time.

You’d marched down to the infirmary without even thinking about it, and now you were trapped in thinking too much about it, and what if he woke up and was angry at you again, found something else to throw in your face, and had you forgiven him for that or did that not even matter when he had nearly died, did arguments and anger and hurt just become nullified when the other person endangered themselves to protect you and the community you lived in, because that seemed like a dangerous precedent, and-

Ellie wrenched the door open and stared at you, paralysed, three steps away.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she said, reaching forward and pulling you in. ‘Get the fuck in here.’

It wasn’t like the movies. There wasn’t a beeping machine, a screen counting out his heart rate, his breaths. He had a little tube up his nose feeding him oxygen but he wasn’t in a white gown, wrapped up neat and tidy under a woven blanket. He was lying, still in his boots, crooked on an old, rusted gurney. Your eyes travelled over him, taking stock; the left eye swollen shut, the abrasion to the cheek suggesting a fractured orbital bone, the red and purple swelling across his brow and up to his temple. The blood under his fingernails, the makeshift splint trying and failing to straighten his obviously broken wrist. You stepped forward and opened his shirt, scanning for more injuries across his skin, found a deep gash in his side and countless bruises, something mottled and purple underneath his ribs. Like he’d been kicked while he was on the ground, while he was already down.

You felt a flash of anger, tears spilling over your cheeks. He was out cold, pale and shivering, and you raised your hands to his midsection, felt the wound there, deep and angry and so close to his spleen.

‘We checked him already, he’s not bit,’ Dougie said from the doorway, and you wiped at your face, set your mouth in a line, intended to turn and address him but couldn’t move from Joel. You felt Ellie standing at your shoulder, observing you as you checked him over. ‘He’s going to need half the supplies they brought back with them,’ Dougie said, laughing a little as if this was funny.

‘They got them?’ Ellie asked, and Dougie nodded to her.

‘Some are dangerously expired, but others are just…expired,’ he said. ‘I gave him some of the morphine, even though he was already out.’

‘He has a head injury,’ you pointed to his collar where dried blood was staining the pillow brown. ‘Are you sure that’s safe?’

‘I stitched him up,’ Dougie said, defensive.

‘What if there’s internal…’ and you stopped yourself then, because Ellie was in the room, and her eyes kept swivelling back to Joel, back to his body, back to the blood. ‘The mottling,’ you said, without further explanation, in the hope that Dougie had managed to find that part of the textbook.

‘We don’t have many options, if there is,’ he said, and you felt yourself get woozy.

‘What have you done so far?’ you asked, and Dougie just stared at you for a second, and you were going to throttle him, actually kill him in this place of healing, if he didn’t answer at least one question properly in the next twenty seconds.

‘We can give him a transfusion, keep his blood pressure up.’

‘Tommy,’ Ellie piped up. ‘They’d have the same blood right? They’re brothers.’

You nodded at her, and she ran from the room. In her absence, you turned to Dougie.

‘Tell me,’ you said, simply, and he sighed.

‘It’s a wait and see game,’ he said. ‘If there’s serious internal bleeding we’d need to operate but…’ you looked around the room, observed the notable absence of a sterile field.

‘I can’t,’ you said, and you weren’t totally sure what exactly you were referring to, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Joel stirred in his sleep, just enough for you to swivel around to him, plant yourself down on a chair and grab at his hand.

‘Joel,’ you said, not sure if he could hear you, hoping he could, hoping he wasn’t in any pain and knowing it was impossible that he wouldn’t be. ‘Joel, I have Ellie, and she’s doing so well,’ you said, murmuring into his unresponsive face. ‘I have her, Joel, so you just rest, OK? You just get better.’

You reached up and gently, carefully, put your hand in his hair, rested it over his right temple, seemingly more intact than the left.

‘We just need you to get better, Joel,’ you said. ‘We all do.’

You thought for a second you heard a grunt under the gentle rhythm of his breath. ‘Be OK, baby,’ you said, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his. ‘Just rest, and be OK.’

Tommy’s transfusion raised Joel’s blood pressure, which was good but also indicated that he had lost a lot of blood. Dougie showed you how to check his blood pressure manually with a cuff and a watch, and you kept an eye on it every hour. If it kept dropping, there was likely internal bleeding.

It remained stable through the night.

What had happened out there became clearer as the morning progressed, as the other riders were patched up. The group from Jackson had managed to find the pharmacy, had cleared it out and secured the perimeter, before turning back the way they came.

The remaining raiders, those who had managed to escape their pet clickers, had been tracking Marla’s path back to Jackson. They had seen how well-equipped Marla was, how strong Jacob had been, how well he had been able to muster up a defence. They’d figured that meant they were well fed, well stocked, that there would be somewhere worth pillaging if they could get to it.

They were young but they were clever, probably only just born on outbreak day, and they’d managed to circle the group before Joel had noticed them. He’d shot one of them point blank, rearing his horse back to try and get to the others before they could clock what was happening, but the younger men had been quicker. He’d fallen from his horse, or maybe shoved off, it wasn’t clear in the chaos, and they’d tried to drag him, pulled him by the arms away from the group, stomped on his ribs a few times. He’d fought them the whole way, scoring a couple of gashes to his chest and abdomen in the process. It was only when the dust had settled, when the three raiders were dead and Joel was struggling to mount his horse, seemingly unable to coordinate his limbs, that they noticed the blow to his head. He’d been woozy, then, stumbling over his words, but they’d managed to get him upright on the horse enough to limp back to Jackson. They’d almost made it back when Joel blacked out completely, falling forward into his horse’s neck and not sideways, this small stroke of luck possibly saving him from an even worse fate.

You listened to all of it, this breathless retelling of actual and near death. You could hear, even through the exhaustion and the pain, the awe the second expedition party held for Joel. That he had seen the raiders, maybe heard them, maybe smelt them, that he was so fast on the draw, so accurate with his shot, so quietly deadly. That he had gone down swinging. That he had come back up.

These stories drifting down the hallway to you, to where Joel lay. Your eyes raked over his body, his wrist now properly splinted and bandaged, his wounds sewn up. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aided by the expired morphine, but he tended to come back to the world fighting. The first time he’d nearly knocked Ellie off the end of the bed, had ripped the breathing tube out of his nose so hard he’d permanently bent it, had been wild eyed and terrified and so lethal, so deadly, as you grabbed his face and turned it to yours, told him where he was, told him who he was, while Dougie injected more drugs under his skin. After he had slipped back under, you liked to imagine that before the drugs he had been relieved to see you, that you had eked out a measure of comfort for him, that he knew you were there, that he wanted you to be.

The second time you sent Ellie away. It was late and Joel was finding new and creative ways to swear the infirmary into the ground, and you could sense the worry in her. You reassured her you’d stay with him, that you didn’t need anything to eat, could sleep in the chair by the bed. That she shouldn’t have to see this, that she didn’t need to hurt herself just to keep him close. You would do that for her. You would reach into yourself and carve away a space for him. Keep yourself hollowed out and aching, should he decide to make a home between your ribs.

You had already decided that when he woke properly you would leave him there, go and get Ellie and Tommy. Not intrude on the family. Go and sit in your little kitchen and run your fingertips over the kitchen table, let the wood grain catch on your skin, scrape the cells from you where you had held his hand.

You didn’t expect to sleep, so you startled awake, confused and aching in places you didn’t know you had from the stupid fucking chair, when Joel stirred again. Judging by the darkness it could only have been 3 AM, maybe 4. You steeled yourself for whatever destruction Joel was about to bring down on his own sick bed, lifted his hand in yours to your cheek, rested your face in his palm, hoped the weight and the heat of it would settle him, would ground him. You heard him clear his throat. This time, however, he was just exhausted, just himself.

‘I can go,’ you offered, too quickly considering he was still orienting himself, and you cringed, started to backtrack. ‘You’re in the infirmary,’ you started again, collecting yourself, watching his face for any hint of fear, any hint of anger.

‘Ellie,’ he croaked, his voice dry.

‘She’s staying with me, she’s OK,’ you said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and then pausing, doubting, dropping it instead to the pillow.

‘Thirsty,’ he grunted.

‘Oh,’ you said, immediately snapping upwards and nearly knocking yourself out on the lamp over the bed. ‘Right, of course.’ Dougie had brought you water and a packet of dry ramen noodles approximately seventeen years past their use-by-date. You poured him a glass, cradling his neck to help him angle himself to drink it. You felt the heat of his skin on your arms as you lifted him. You didn’t think about it. Not at all.

‘Do you hurt anywhere?’ you asked, and he grunted at you. You knew it was a stupid question, and you tried again. ‘Do you want me to get Dou…the doctor, to get you some more drugs?’

‘Not yet,’ he whispered. You leant in close to him so that you could hear, and he fixed you then with a gaze sharper than anyone who had been unconscious for as long as he had should have been able to. ‘Makes me fuzzy and I want to…’ he trailed off, his eyes scanning your face.

‘I didn’t come to you about Marla because I think you’re a killer,’ you said, realised you had been waiting to say it to him, hoping he would wake up so you could finally set him straight. ‘I came to you because I knew you wouldn’t be cruel. I knew you’d do it well. Respect her.’

He lifted an arm as if he was going to cradle your jaw in his hands, but his face shifted into pain the moment he moved. You realised his ribs would be screaming in protest, and you grabbed his arm and forced it back to the mattress. ‘Don’t,’ you said, ‘it’s OK, I’m here.’

Joel turned his eyes to the ceiling, and you could tell that he was hurting. ‘I’m going to get you the drugs, you can’t just lie here like this…’ you said, standing up again. He grabbed your arm to stop you turning away from him, his grip strong, as he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

‘Ask me why,’ he grunted, through gritted teeth.

‘Why what?’ you asked, and saw the way he was bracing against the pain, felt a shot of frustration with yourself for prolonging it with your stupid fucking questions. ‘Why?’ you asked him.

‘Wanted to be a good man for once,’ he said. You sucked in a breath. ‘For Ellie,’ he went on, closing his eyes. ‘For you.’

You could feel something coming loose in you, a snapping of a hinge, the whine of a rusted and long-abandoned cellar door.

‘Joel,’ you said, because there wasn’t much else you could say in that moment, trying so hard to hold down the stirring turmoil in your chest. He held up his hand to stop you, almost waving you away, and you knew it was because it was hurting him to stay awake, hurting him to say it out loud, hurting him to hear you upset and not being able to soothe it for you. So much hurting in this bruised, bloodied body.

‘Let me…the drugs,’ you said, pulling yourself away from him, feeling his fingers grasp for you. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up,’ you reassured him, his eyes closed and his jaw tight. ‘I’ll be here,’ you said again, saw him nod, took the permission to finally, finally relieve him.

You weren’t there.

Couldn’t bring yourself to be, unnerved by the way his gaze snapped to yours, the way he had grasped for you, the way you felt the fracture of something vital, something that had kept you alive all these years. You sent Ellie in first thing in the morning, told her that he was calmer overnight and that you needed a proper sleep, set yourself up on the couch and tried not to think about it, tried to close your eyes and let sleep take you, felt it abandon you like you’d just done Joel.

You figured he wouldn’t remember it, what you had promised him, what he had said. The morphine would wash it away, would cleanse it from him. You would need to carry it, feel it sloshing around against your legs as you walked, but you were OK with that so long as it was only yours.

You busied yourself, cleaned up a little around the house because living with an un-housebroken teenager was a challenge in itself, went to the mess hall and bartered for a loaf of bread and a parcel of butter no bigger than a quarter, wrapped up in grease paper. That butter was going to cost you two massages but you knew Ellie preferred it, that without it there was so little flavour you could offer her.

You thought about going to Maria’s, thought about lifting Robin’s forehead to your lips and feeling his gentle, simple warmth thaw you out. But you worried Tommy would be there, that he would ask you why you weren’t with Joel, that he would ask you why had been, why you’d spent nearly three days at his bedside only to abandon him the second he was vaguely aware you were there.

You didn’t know how to explain. You couldn’t even get it straight in your own head. You wanted to cower from it, the strength of it, the weight. You took the back way back to your house, hoped you would slip out of everyone’s mind if you stayed out of sight.

Tommy was on your doorstep when you got there. Of course he was.

‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ he said, simply. You felt your shoulders drop, the defeat ripping up your spine, and you shrugged at him, your bottom lip wobbling.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ you said, simply, the six words that could kill you in an apocalypse. Tommy didn’t pretend not to understand. He took the packages from your arms, left you standing on the porch while he went inside and set them down. Came back out carrying a warm jacket for you and a cushion from the couch.

‘That damn ‘firmary chair is awful,’ he said, and you gave him a watery smile. ‘He’s askin’ for ya, so that’s what we’ll do,’ he said. You nodded at him. He took your elbow, led you down into the town.

‘It’ll be Spring soon,’ he said, making conversation, as you sniffed into the midday cold. ‘Jackson’s so beautiful in Spring, the wildflowers, the new leaves on the trees. You’ll love it.’

You nodded again, barely listening, wondering if you would ever be able to form actual sentences again. ‘S’new life,’ Tommy went on, ‘everything feels new. Like comin’ out of somethin’. Like a crack under the door where the light gets in.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ you said.

‘Which part?’

‘All of it,’ you answered, sweeping your arms in front of you.

‘Well, you gotta do somethin’, so it might as well be this,’ Tommy said. It occurred to you that Maria’s ability to drop truth bombs at exactly the right moment was rubbing off on Tommy. You’d need to have a word to her about it.

Tommy led you into the infirmary, as if you didn’t have the place mapped like the back of your hand at that point, and down towards Joel’s room. He stopped at the door, and you realised he’d come as far as he was going to go. You looked at him, hoping for some final wisdom that might push you over the line.

‘What if he’s mad at me?’ you asked, feeble and weak.

‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ Tommy said, one last time, and you finally understood. You felt prickling heat at the back of your eyes, but Tommy had the good grace not to mention it, not to try to comfort or soothe, knew that it would make it worse somehow, bring it too close. With a shaky hand, you pushed open the door.

Joel was propped up, awake and gazing out the window at the street. He turned to you as you walked in, and your breath left you. The swelling around his eye had gone down, he was already looking less purple and bloodied than the night before, was more alert, was more him. You paused in the doorway, took him in as he waited for you.

‘Hi’, you said, barely above a whisper. You were gripping your hands in front of you, shivering in the doorway. You waited for him to yell, to thrash, to chew you out for leaving him to wake up alone and in pain.

You didn’t expect his eyes to mist over, for his bottom lip to tremble. For him to be soft, for him to need you.

‘C’mere,’ he said, lifting his good arm up to beckon you, and you fell into the four steps to him, launched yourself at his bed, gripped him by the waist and lay your head on his good shoulder, ignored his sharp intake of breath as you jostled him. You felt the tears spill over, your face tucked into his elbow while he ran his hands through your hair, and he held you as you sobbed into him.

This time, you knew it was for all of them. For the entire balance sheet, for the grand tally. For your parents, for Marla and for Ray, for Maria who so very much reminded you of your sister, for nearly losing Joel, for Ellie tucked up in your bed pretending she wasn’t counting the seconds until his return. For the love you held for all of them, your collection of losses and grief, for the realisation that all this time you hadn’t been feeling the absence of love but the presence of it, its full force, that it hadn’t gone anywhere, that so long as the love stayed so did they, in just enough of a way to sustain you.

‘M’sorry,’ you muttered after a while, trying to pull back. He held you firm to him, his chin on the top of your head.

‘Scared ya, I guess,’ he said, and you could only nod.

‘There’s so much that scares me,’ you whimpered, and he grunted his agreement.

‘M’scared too,’ he said. You raised your head to look at him, to understand, and he gazed down at you. ‘This is somethin’. Right?’ he asked, his voice giving out on the question.

‘Think so,’ you said. He smiled, warmly, down at you, lifted a hand to rub at his face.

‘We did it arse-backwards,’ he said, and you waited for him to explain. ‘Haven’t even dated ya, and here we are clingin’ to each other like…’ He trailed off, and you weren’t sure how you wanted him to finish that sentence, were sure you just wanted to continue to rest your head on his chest while he spoke, wanted to hear the timbre of it, feel the resonance.

‘Like it’s the end of the world?’ you finished for him, eventually. He chuckled.

The two of you fell into a silence, a warm one, a silence filled with all the words you were going to get to say to each other, when the time was right.

‘Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?’ you asked, after a long while.

‘Don’t need you to do anythin’ more than you already have. Just be patient with me, baby. S’been a long time since I felt this’ he said.

You reached over and took his hand from where it rested on his belly, turned his fingers over in the grey light from the window, examined the cracks, the swelling, the cuts. You lifted a knuckle to your lips, tasted the copper across your tongue, the tang of it, the life under his skin.

Gently, so gently, you held him there, felt his pulse against your skin, felt his body give, the tension in his muscles unspool. Heard his breathing slow, his other arm gripping tight around you. You let your eyes drift close, not having to see him to know that he was right there, in this moment with you. That he was with you, that this was the two of you.

That you had his touch. That he had yours.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

@kathaaaaaaa

@anoverwhelmingdin

@pedropascalsbbg

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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strawwritesfic · 3 months

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(Don't) Hold Your Breath Master List

Summary: You've made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn't even at the top of the list. Now you're about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian--and they're not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Reader & Ellie; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Notes: I've received a few asks regarding this fic. I'd deleted it a few years ago for various reasons, but I got into my old laptop recently and decided that, well, if people have cared enough to track me down and ask about it, maybe I should put it back online.

My feelings about this story are…complicated, which is why I'm hoping people read this before they jump in. The Last of Us is a dark story, and so this story has a lot of dark themes. They're not always executed very well. That might lessen the impact. Maybe it makes it worse. I don't know. But this is a very different sort of work for me. I feel, in retrospect, that I went a little overboard in some aspects. And I don't know how to really even begin putting in warning tags for some of the stuff that's just brushed off like nothing because, to the point of view character, it isn't worth dwelling on. If there's something you see that you feel needs a warning, tell me. I'll add it.

I think the most important thing for me to get out there is that the reader character is an amputee. I had people claiming to be amputees telling me I did a lovely job, but more crucially, I had someone claiming to be an amputee that told me that they didn't like that even 18 chapters in, I was having the reader character struggle with using only one arm in various ways and keep complaining about her situation. I respect that. My thought process during writing was that, in a world without physical therapy or prosthetic limbs, it would be much more difficult to adjust to suddenly having only one arm (and the nondominant arm, at that). And the character whining was because she's got a lot of self-pity that she has to work to get over. That being said, I really took that criticism to heart. I had every intention of drawing back on both aspects…I just never actually wrote another chapter. But, you know, if this gets enough attention for me to justify finishing the story, that's 100% on the to-do list.

I'm not changing anything. It's going up as-is. I'm going to do a quick proofread, of course, and catch a few more typos (I hope), but the excessive swearing and the weird coffee and the thing with Ellie using bang snaps inappropriately are staying in. I'm not doing a line-by-line rewrite like I have with my KHR stuff.

This is not intended to be canon to the television show. I've never seen it, and I don't plan to watch it. This is not intended to be canon to The Last of Us Part II. I've never played it or watched anyone else play it, and I never will. The only thing that this work might have in common with those is that Ellie is a lesbian, because I always intended to give her a girlfriend in this even way before the second game came out.

Anyway, I hope the handful of people that were (mysteriously, miraculously) searching for this story don't find themselves too disappointed now that they can read it again. Thanks for reaching out. It means a lot to me.

Posting Status: Incomplete

Story Status: Incomplete

Rule #1: Shut up. The enemy might hear you.

Rule #2: Try not to get yourself hurt.

Rule #3: Try not to get yourself killed. God, are you that stupid?

Rule #4: Quit stealing shit.

Rule #5: Don't touch anything.

Rule #6: Don't piss off the locals.

Rule #7: First impressions are important, so don't be yourself.

Rule #8: The villagers are always a little stupid. Try not to contract that.

Rule #9: If you fall off a roof, don't let go. Nothing will catch you.

Rule #10: Again, the enemy can hear you, so shut up.

#straw writes #fan fic #reader insert #second person pov #the last of us #joel #joel miller #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us reader insert #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n

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drurrito · 6 months

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Are You The One? - Two

A/N: Little installment for this, all mistakes are mine--thanks! Edit: excuse my poor attempt at tagging people. It might be a tumblr thing or very, very much a me thing.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, Jerk!Vision lol

----------------

Your side of the bed is empty when Wanda wakes up.

Wanda sits up with a groan, rubbing at her burning eyes. She can hear the sounds of silverware clanking against dishes and conversations about "how drunk was I last night?" coming from the common areas. Wanda throws her hair into a messy bun before padding out to find you sitting next to an empty chair. You smile at her like she's the sun peeking out after a long stretch of gloom.

"Good morning," you greet her softly, pouring her a glass of water, "everyone just woke up, figured you wanted to rest a little longer."

"You were...you were going to wake me?," she asks, gingerly taking the glass.

"In about...20 minutes, yes," you turn off the timer you set on your watch while Wanda tries to process why you would even bother to do something like that for her. She gives you a tight-lipped smile before leaving to pour herself a cup of coffee.

The view from behind the carafe keeps Wanda entertained while her coffee brews. Eyes bouncing around the table, cautious touches, smiles finally reaching eyes, and scattered lips to ears -- there's a different air about the house after last night. The clock is almost through ticking and aside from the prize fund, people are determined to find their match.

"How was last night?" Steve snaps a finger in your direction with a mischievous grin. You roll your eyes.

"We talked a lot, I think we're on the same page about trying this out for the ceremony."

"For what it's worth," Sharon cuts in, leaning over Steve who just puts a meaty arm around her shoulders, "I think you two would be a cute couple. Plus, you can't argue with a genius like Shuri."

You hum in agreement, "thank you," you lean back and take a sip from your glass. You glance at Carol, she greets you with a wink that can wake the moon up at this point. You feel your cheeks radiate enough heat to fry eggs.

"I don't see it," Steve interrupts with a mouthful of food.

"You don't?"

"No, I mean-the chemistry is there for sure, but Carol can have chemistry with a toaster if she really wanted to," Steve rips into his other piece of toast, "personally, I have trouble seeing it between you and Wanda, but love is complicated, plus, I'm not going to argue with Shuri's logic."

Steve continues eating, ignoring the way your head tilts and your face does the perfect impression of a question mark. Wanda misses it too as she sits back down. Her eyes don't travel far around the room after almost catching Vision's pitiful look he's been wearing since last night.

"Game day!" Tony pops the top off a bottle of beer and cracks it over the mouth of Scott's beer, making an impromptu volcano. Tony only chugs half the beer before slamming it down to head outside, where the camera crew is waiting.

That's right, it's another game day. Wanda twists the fork in her hand idly above her food while everyone else begins to file out of the house.

"Hey," you watch Wanda's eyes soften a bit when they meet yours, "you ready for this?"

----------------

Wanda was in fact, not ready for this.

Her hands ball into stiff fists, sitting at her sides as she watches you pick Carol's pickup line over hers. Wanda doesn't miss the twitch in your jaw the moment Carol stepped forward, maybe you were hoping for a date with Wanda too?

Wanda's eyes are locked onto the flight path of Carol's hands on your body when she feels someone nudge her side, "Val picked you," Maria whispers.

Shit.

Wanda makes sure she's smiling big enough for the cameras to see as she walks over to Valkyrie. She doesn't spare a glance at you as Val throws an arm over her shoulder to pull her in.

----------------

Despite everything that's happened in the past 24 hours, the boat ride is a little fun, if only a little.

"So," Val drawls, "talk to me about y/n."

"We don't have to, I'm on this date with you," Wanda drums her fingers against the side of her champagne glass that's been full since she first boarded. Val gives Wanda a gentle smile and leans forward.

"For what it's worth, I think you and y/n make a cute pair. Something is there, I'm sorry you weren't able to chip away at it on a date today."

Wanda's head tilts as she chews on her lip for a moment, "thank you," she says, "we have a little bit of time, we talked for a while last night."

"Trying to feel for a connection within a week is probably not ideal, given you spent so much time with Vision up until now."

Wanda's shoulders begin to droop, she puts a little more space between her and Val, "I feel awful for only listening to my heart," she says to the floor of the boat.

"I mean, Vision didn't really give you a moment to breathe, let alone think. This might be the most we've spoken since we got here," Val flashes a crooked smile before taking a sip from her glass. Wanda lifts her head, eyebrows furrowed.

"Is that what everyone in the house thinks too?"

"Some more than others, we just got worried about the both of you never finding your match--and costing us the prize fund, but still," Wanda shakes her head with a giggle while Val refills her glass.

"You think Shuri is right?"

"I think Shuri is more tuned in to everything going on in the house than the lot of us," Val leans back against the seat, her limbs sailing across the leather of the seat into a more comfortable position.

"I spent too much time trying to play the field instead of fostering any type of connection," Val takes another sip, throwing her head back with a groan. Wanda cracks a small smile when she remembers the foursome facilitated by Val and Carol within the first week of being here. She remembers watching everyone eavesdropping by the door while she tried to listen to Vision's monologue about the many lives he's lived before now.

"Who did Shuri say your match was?"

"Carol," Val barks out a laugh.

"I can see that."

"What?" Val picks her head up, "we're both recovering playboys, that seems like a recipe for disaster."

"I think it will lead to change more than anything. Neither of you wants to keep doing the same things forever. You might even share a deep understanding of your ways because you're so similar," Wanda shrugs, finally taking a sip of her champagne.

Val hums with a cheeky smile on her face. She keeps Wanda under a watchful eye while she sips from her glass, "you know you're pretty wise when you look around for longer than a few seconds."

That gets a playful scoff from Wanda, there's no point in defending her behavior, "I wish it would have happened sooner, maybe we wouldn't be racing against the clock."

Val only nods once, "it's a hard game to play," they both share a look at the horizon for a few moments before realizing their date is about to end.

"Tell you what," Val sets her glass down and takes Wanda's too, "tonight, I'll find Carol and bare my soul to her and you try to deepen your connection with y/n, deal?"

The boat is being docked by the time Val finishes her sentence. She's holding her hand out to Wanda. Has she just made a friend? Is this what everyone else has been doing while she was too busy with Vision to care?

Wanda docks her worries and reservations by putting her hand in Val's. They both walk to the house with a new sense of determination, this game isn't over yet.

#works #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine

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arlana-likes-to-write · 10 months

Text

Live Bait

Part 2 of Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Summary: After spending time with Maria and Natasha in Norway, they've decided to bring you to the Avengers Compound. Unfortunately, your life remains complicated and wild as you try to navigate living with the rest of the Avengers and the possibility of meeting your father.

Relationship: blackhill x daughter!reader, Winter Solider x daughter!reader, Avenger x reader (platonic)

Warning: mention of death, mention of Red Rauma/HYDRA abuse, anxiety, kidnapping, injuries, gun shot, gambling, angst with fluff,

Word: 9.3k

Sneaking back into the States was something out of an action movie and a bucket list item you didn’t know you had. Your face had to be hidden to avoid facial recognition from nearby cameras and if you had to speak with anyone you mimicked an English accent. It was high stakes but it was so much fun. Finally, you landed on the helipad of the Avengers compound. Your body was shaking with excitement and nervousness as Natasha and Maria completed their post-landing routine. “How are you doing kid?” Natasha asked. You knew you couldn’t lie to her right now. Your poker face wouldn’t be convincing.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” you admitted. Your leg was shaking, bouncing up and down. Natasha stood up from the copilot seat and walked over to you. She knelt in front of you, holding out her hands with her palms facing up. It was a new addition to your relationship with the Black Widow. You would place your hands on top of hers and you would keep them there until your emotions were under control. It helped you more than the breathing techniques. It grounded you. Your hands were clammy when you placed them on top of Natasha’s.

“Tell me what’s going on,” you liked the feeling of her hands. They were warm, calloused, and rough against yours.

“I-” you stopped and gave yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. “What if they don’t like me?” You whispered. She smiled, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand. “And I want them to like me but I know I can be difficult,” you made yourself giggle.

“They are going to love you and if they don’t I’ll punch them,” you smiled, and your leg stopped bouncing.

“She may have a better punch than you, darling,” you looked at Maria. She was walking over to you. “They’ve been very excited to meet you.”

“My sister and best friend will be the first people you meet and you’ll meet everyone else when you are ready, okay?” You nodded, taking your hands off of hers.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Sorry about that. That was-”

“You better not say stupid,” she pinched your sides playfully. You giggled and stood up, walking with the couple to the ramp. The New York sun shined on the ramp and at the bottom was a blonde and a brunette You let out a shaky breath, put your best poker face on, and followed them. You stayed behind the couple, letting Natasha hug the blonde and Maria greeted the man.

“So,” the blonde said, you were surprised by the thicker Russian accent. “You’re my niece.” “I am,” you said, keeping your eye contact with her. Her eyes were a similar green to Natasha’s. “So you’re my aunt.” She smiled, and a fondness grew in her eyes at the title.

“I am,” she repeated. “My sister says you are kind of a badass,” your body heated up at the compliment. You looked at your mom.

“Are you talking about me behind my back?” She rolled her eyes, throwing her arm around my shoulders.

“I like bragging about my kid, sue me,” you smiled, finding yourself leaning in her embrace. “So my sister is Yelena and that handsome devil is Clint.” Clint rolled his eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” he deadpanned but his face softened when he looked at you. “It’s very nice to meet you. Why don’t we show you around?” The compound was amazing! You found the place massive compared to the RV you were living in. You were a little upset it took Natasha this long to show you this place. There was so much room for activity, you loved the gun range. The whole training facility was your favorite.

“Where is everyone?” Maria asked when you reached the end of the tour. You sat at the kitchen counter while Natasha made you a peanut butter sandwich. Clint sighed, pouring a cup of coffee.

“We wanted to create a divergent to ensure you guys got back into the States safely,” Natasha glanced at her friend. “They took the bait and the team is hoping they get lucky. They’ve been gone for 5 days.” Your mom placed the sandwich in front of you. You were hungry but the idea of people you didn’t know fighting to keep you safe made your stomach twist.

“They’re gonna be okay, right?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” Natasha nodded. “They’ll be okay.” She wasn’t lying. You sighed, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Nemnogo krasnyy (little red),” Yelena said. You titled your head when no one acknowledged her. You pointed to yourself. She nodded.

“What did you call me?” You questioned.

“Little Red. You like?” It wasn’t the worst nickname you’ve heard so you nodded. “Do you want to play in the shooting range?” Your eyes grew wide.

“Yes!” You jumped off the chair. “Let’s go.” You followed your aunt to the training area.

“She better be in one piece, Belova” Natasha’s voice called after you as you both broke out in a run.”

After dinner with Clint and Yelena, Natasha found you lying on the couch with Maria. You were resting your head on Maria’s lap, watching a movie. The Black Widow slipped next to her girlfriend. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It wasn’t under the most ideal circumstances that her family was together, there was still a real threat to her and your life. But she was happy to have this time together. You shifted on the couch and pulled the blanket over you. “Do you want to go to bed, dorogoy (sweetheart)?” Yelena put you through an intense workout, you almost fell asleep at dinner. It was nice to see you smile and joke around with Clint and Yelena. She was excited to see you interact with the rest of the team. You groaned, leaning into Maria more.

“Wanna watch the movie,” you whispered. Maria chuckled.

“We can pause it and watch it tomorrow,” she ran her fingers through your hair. “Yelena put you through the wringer, didn’t see.” You sighed, flipping on your back to look up at the couple.

“It was fun,” you said. “But my body hurts.” Natasha laughed, pausing the movie.

“Come on, buttercup,” the Black Widow stood up and pulled you off her girlfriend. “It’s time to go to bed,” you nodded, rubbing your eyes.

“Night Maria. See you in the morning,” she said goodnight to you and you followed the Black Widow to the room they deemed as yours. You crawled into bed and Natasha pulled the blanket over you.

“Are you still nervous to meet the rest of the team?” Natasha watched you think it over. You sat up and put your hands out with palms facing up. Without hesitation, Natasha placed her hands on top of yours.

“What happens if the Avengers can’t catch him?” You asked instead. “Will I be hiding for the rest of my life?”

“That is a big ‘What if’ because we will stop him,” it was a hefty promise to make but Natasha wasn’t going to stop until you were safe. “You won’t be hiding forever. Once he is dealt with, you can do whatever you want. Your life will go back to normal,” you nodded but Natasha knew there was more on your mind. She squeezed your hands. “Come on, what else is on your mind?” You sighed.

“What is going to happen to him?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Fury will probably want to speak with him to try to get information on HYDRA but after that, I’m not sure.” Natasha was conflicted. There were moments during training or missions when Natasha saw the man behind the monster HYDRA created. You nodded, removing your hands from hers. You laid back down and Natasha fixed the blanket around you. “Remember what I said, okay? I’ll be your shelter and armor. There is no distance I won’t cover to get you.” She pushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Night Mom,” Natasha smiled. She was never going to get tired of you calling her that.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” the Black Widow kissed the top of your head. She stayed until your breathing slowed and you were fast asleep. She hoped you didn’t notice how scared and worried she was. Her small family was finally whole again. If she were to lose you when she just got you, she worried who she would become to get you back. But she couldn’t let those thoughts consume her. Right now you are asleep and safe. She only focused on that.

The smell of cinnamon woke Natasha up. She felt around in the bed and found the spot next to her empty and cold. Figuring it was her girlfriend in the kitchen, she got out of bed, put on when of Maria’s long sleeves, and made her way to the kitchen. Maria was engrossed in making French toast she didn’t hear Natasha walk up behind her. The Black Widow put her arms around her waist. “I could have cooked, baby,” she kissed her girlfriend’s shoulder. Maria leaned back in her girlfriend’s embrace.

“Fury woke me up,” she flipped the French Toast that was in the pan. “The team got back late last night. He wants to have a meeting.” Natasha stood next to her, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Are they okay?” Maria nodded.

“The usual cuts and bruises but they are good,” but the sigh Maria let out worried Natasha. “According to Fury, there is some tension between Stark and Rogers.” That wasn’t new. The due always seemed to be getting underneath each other’s skin. Natasha frowned.

“Did he elaborate?” Maria shook her head. “Cool,” she deadpanned, sipping on her coffee. “When’s the meeting?”

“20 minutes,” she glanced towards your room. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted her to be there.” Natasha sighed.

“I’ll go wake her up and ask her,” she kissed Maria’s cheek and sat the coffee mug on the counter. When she opened your door, the sight made her smile. You were still asleep, on your stomach with your arms hugging the pillow you were using. Natasha knelt next to you, a gentle hand on your back. “Sweetheart, wake up,” you didn’t. “Wake up.” You groaned, opening your eyes. You blinked a few times, your mind and eyes still laced with sleep.

“Morning,” you mumbled, stretching.

“Morning,” she smiled. “So I know it’s early but the team went back last night and there is a meeting in about 20 minutes. Do you want to be there?” You blinked at her, giving your brain a chance to process the information.

“Do you want me to be there?” You questioned and sat up. Natasha sat down in front of you.

“I want whatever you want. You can come or go back to bed,” you bite your lip and pick at the edge of the blanket.

“Can I stay here?” You whispered. The Black Widow nodded.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Maria is making breakfast so eat when you are ready.” You nodded with a smile but Natasha could see that you were hiding something. She wasn’t going to force you to talk and hoped you would come to her when you were ready. So, she stood up, kissed you on top of your head, and walked to the door. Before she left, she glanced at you one more time. You were lying back down, pulling the covers back over you. Natasha heard you let out a small sigh.

Gently, she closed the door behind her and rejoined Maria in the kitchen. A stack of French Toast was made. “She’s not coming,” Maria looked up from the report she was reading as Natasha took her coffee and a piece of French Toast from the top stack.

“Is she okay?” Natasha shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’m worried this is happening all too fast,” Maria nodded and closed the report. She rounded the kitchen island to stand in front of her.

“It’s gonna be a tough adjustment, we live with a cast of characters,” the redhead smiled. “But she is resilient and strong, just like her mama.”

When she walked into the conference room, it was thick with tension. Steve and Tony were on opposite ends of the table. “Romanoff, Hill, it’s good to see you both states side. Fury said. She looked at the team. No visible injuries. They looked tired, hell even Vision looked exhausted.

“Glad to be back,” she sat down next to Wanda. “What do we know?” Maria sat down next to her, placing a hand on her thigh.

“Yesterday the team had the opportunity to capture the Winter Solider,” Fury said.

“That dude can punch,” Pietro said, rubbing his jaw. Oh, Natasha knew the strength behind the Winter Solider.

“But it was not a complete failure,” Fury pulled up a picture of the Winter Solider. Natasha saw Steve fidget out of the corner of her name. “We have a name. His real name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Natasha’s head snapped to look at Steve but he refused to look at her. “Which until last night, we thought was killed in action in World War II.” Her head was spinning. She couldn’t believe it.

“Steve-”

“Did you know?” The question stumped her. Of course, she didn’t know. “I mean you could have known and not told us,” Steve finally looked at her and she hated the look in his eyes, like she was the enemy. “You have a daughter that we knew nothing about.” Her jaw clenched.

“Watch your tone, Rogers,” Yelena threatened.

“Oh cut the shit, Capsicle,” Tony said. “Romanoff lying is no surprise. She and Belova were trained for that but what what is your excuse?” The conversation shifted away from the Black Widow to the billionaire and soldier.

“This is different,” Steve tried to defend himself.

“Bullshit!” Tony slammed his hand on the desk. Maria squeezed Natasha’s leg when she flinched from the noise. “We find out your long-lost buddy is alive and the whole team is ecstatic for you. Turns out I overhear you and birdie,” he pointed to Sam. “That your buddy killed my parents and you weren’t going to tell me.” Oh. OH. The tension between the two now was explained. Natasha saw Steve clench his jaw. “FRIDAY, play it.” Fury stepped out of the way as the screen behind him began to play a video. It was raining and a car slammed into a pool soon a motorcycle pulled up. The Winter Solider rounded the driver’s side where Howard Stark was on the ground. He beat the man and placed him back into the car. The same fate was met for Maria. The video ended and the room was silent. “So,” Tony broke it. “What do we do now?” Natasha found it odd that after all these years the video of the ‘car accident’ surfaced but she needed to keep the team together, it was their only shot of stopping him.

“I didn’t know, Steve,” she kept her voice steady even though she was sure he could hear her heart pounding. Her green eyes were trained on the table. God, she wanted to avoid this conversation. “In there and when I was assigned to missions, he was Winter. Sometimes I could see the man he was before HYDRA got to him but then they would reset him and it would be gone.”

“Reset him?” Rhodey questioned.

“Reset him how?” Sam added. That godforsaken chair. Natasha could still see it, hear his screams in her ears. Maria gave her leg another squeeze, it was the only thing keeping her in this room.

“Sestra,” she looked at Yelena. Her green eyes showed her concern. Natasha sighed.

“It’s how they keep him under their control,” she looked at Steve. “Let me guess, he didn’t recolonize you,” the soldier nodded.

“He didn’t even recognize his name.” Her eyes went back to the table.

“Because he’s Soldat to them,” the name tasted vile on her tongue. “HYDRA has this chair. They would strap him to it and electrify him,” she barely heard Tony let out a quiet, ‘Jesus’. “If we went on a mission on Saturday, he would get reset on Sunday and in training on Monday he would have no idea who I was,” Natasha tore her eyes away from the table to look at Tony. “I am deeply sorry for what happened to your parents but it wasn’t him. Someone made him do that, he had no choice.”

“None of us did,” Yelena added on. Natasha saw Clint whisper something in her ear. The blonde nodded.

“So what do we do?” Wanda questioned. “They can’t stay in hiding forever and the longer he is out there more people are going to get hurt.” She was right. You were his mission and that meant he would stop at nothing to complete it.

“The most logical option is to set up a trap,” Vision said, leaning back and folding his hands. “So we can have control over all variables.” The Black Widow placed her hand on top of Maria’s.

“He won’t come out again unless it’s believable,” Rhodey added on. “It has to involve his target.” You. You offered to be bait but that was out of misplaced trust and anger.

“Sedlala by ona eto (Would she do it)?” Yelena asked.

“Ty khochesh’, chtoby ona eto sdelala (Do you want her to do it)?” Clint clarified. Natasha’s gut instinct was to say, hell no, and they could find another way. But she that every option would be covered.

“English would be preferred,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to come up with another option before we use her,” she said, cringing at the way she said ‘use’. It made her think about her time at the Red Room. The Windows were seen as objected to being used. She sighed. “I understand you are putting your life on the line for a child you haven’t met yet.”

“Yet?” Same questioned, smiling. “So we can meet her.” Natasha nodded.

“Yes soon,” she said. “But thank you I should have said that sooner.”

“We are family, Nat,” Wanda looked at her then to Tony and Steve. “Sometimes we keep things from each other because we think it’s for the best but at the end of the day, we will always be there for each other.” Tony huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, put the witchy powers down, kid.” Tony stood up and made his way over to Steve, holding out his hand. “Let’s go save him, okay?” Steve looked at the extended hand to him then Tony’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he took it. “I should have told you as soon as I found out.” The billionaire shrugged.

“It’s in the past, let’s work towards a brighter future.” The previous tension seemed to evaporate and Fury informed them that they’ll have a meeting soon to come up with a plan. But the team deserved to rest. One by one they began to trickle out but Natasha stayed sitting, she heard the unspoken words Fury wanted to say.

Soon it was Natasha, Maria, and Fury left. The director smiled the closest thing to a smile. “I’d like to meet her,” he said. “If she’s comfortable with that.”

“FRIDAY, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI.

“She has gotten out of bed and is watching cartoons,” FRIDAY advised. “Should I inform her that you would like to see her?”

“We’ll come to her,” Maria said. “Let her know we’ll have a guest.”

A guest. That was all the AI said to you which gave you a heart attack, not expecting another voice. The door of the small apartment opened and you paused the show you were watching. Your mom and Maria walked in with a man wearing an eye patch followed behind him. “How was the meeting?” You asked. “Did they get him?” Natasha shook her head.

“But we did find something out,” she said. “I’d like you to meet Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD.” You stood up, whipping your hand on your pants before you shook the man’s hand.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person, kid.” you smiled.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you let go of his hand and followed the group into the kitchen. You sat on a bar stool while Nick poured himself some coffee and the couple plated the leftover breakfast. “So what happened?” You asked.

“We found out his real identity,” Fury said, taking a sip of coffee. “His name is James Barnes, a-”

“Steve Roger’s best friend,” you cut the man off, eyes slightly wide. “I thought he was killed in World War II,” your mom raised her eyebrow at you. You shrugged. “I paid attention in history class.” It was your second favorite subject in school.

“That is what everyone thought,” Maria said. “Until the team confirmed his identity this week.” She sat down next to you. “Which has caused some tension,” you looked between the couple, asking an unasked question. Natasha sighed.

“Steve believes I knew his true identity and kept it from him but I didn’t know,” you frowned, seeing the truth in her eyes. But you saw the hurt too that his teammate lost trust in her.

“That’s not all,” Fury said. “Turns out the Winter Solider is responsible for the death of Howard and Maria Stark.” Oh. That complicated things.

“Well,” you said slowly. “I guess we have something in common.” The Black Widow snorted at your poor attempt at a joke. You smirked. “So to recap, the Winter Solider is James Barnes, Steve Roger’s long lost best friend who killed the Starks and is after me. This man happens to be my biological father, which I’m guessing the team knows?” You questioned.

“Yes.”

“Cool,” you mumbled, running your hands through your hair. “So what do we do?”

“We are working on that,” Fury said, pushing off the counter he was leaning on to walk over to you. You spun around in the chair to face him, keeping eye contact with his good eye. You kept your face neutral. He was reading you. The ends of his lip curled up in a smile. “You got a good poker face, kid.”

“So I’ve been told,” you said. “Now what do you want?” He shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. Well, that was a bald-faced lie. “Not right now at least. We’ll be seeing each other soon.” He quickly left the apartment. You raised an eyebrow, looking back at the couple.

“What a weird dude,” you mumbled. The couple laughed. “This plan that is being worked on, does it involve me?”

“They want to set up a trap,” Maria told you. “So we can control every outcome.”

“But I told them that using you was the last resort,” your mom said. “And you can back out if you don’t want to do it.” You nodded.

“I know,” you were nervous. “If I can help I want to.” You wanted to help that was the truth. Each day he walked freely but you and others were in danger. That reality didn’t stop you from being scared. Scared for yourself. Scared for the team. Scared for Natasha on the possibility she would have to face him again. But were you ready? All your life you wondered and dreamed about your biological. Now all the answers were laid out in front of you and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

When the couple was done with breakfast, you helped clean up and you changed out of the clothes you slept in. “You don’t have to meet them right now,” Natasha said, opening the door for you.

“Well, I can’t stay locked away in my room forever like Rapunzel. Oh! That reminds me, we should watch Tangled. It’s my favorite Disney movie,” Natasha chuckled, rustling your hair with her hand.

“Sure, we can watch it tonight,” you fixed your hair before entering the common area. The Avengers were there. You found Clint and Yelena right away, the blonde offered you a small smile. You returned it. “Guys, I like you to meet someone,” Natasha got the attention of everyone in the room. Oh, there were a lot of eyes on you. Your mom introduced you. Wanda and Vision were in the kitchen while Tony and Rhodey were at the dining room table discussing something on a tablet. That left Sam and Steve on the couch. The blonde super soldier kept looking at you and then back to Natasha. His blue eyes would linger on yours. Tony whistled.

“You really said copy and paste with this one.” Before you could respond, a strong gust of wind spun you around and pulled you away from Maria and Natasha. A man with white hair had his arm swung over your shoulders.

“So this is the fresh meat,” he pinched your cheek.

“And this pain in the ass is Pietro,” Maria deadpanned. Pietro chuckled and sped off behind Maria.

“You love me, Hill.”

“Pietro,” Wanda warned. “Be nice.” He quickly moved over to Wanda.

“You do know I’m older than you.” You smiled, shaking your head. There was a set of twins in your class back in California. You wondered how your classmates were doing. What were they told when news of your parents’ death hit and you disappeared? How was Sarah or Agent Cruise? You made a mental note to ask Natasha about them. The conversation flowed naturally with the Avengers. They asked about your likes and dislikes and your life before all this. The anxiety you were feeling was melting away. Suddenly, Steve stood up and left. The room grew quiet as everyone watched him leave.

“What’s got his panties in a twist?” Tony asked. You looked at your mom and her eyes showed how conflicted you were. You sighed and followed the man, ignoring the call of your name. The soldier was by a pond that rested on the compound’s property. He was sitting on the deck, getting lost in the water. But you knew he heard you by the way his shoulders moved.

“Tony is wrong,” he said. “All I see is Bucky when I look at you,” he shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” You took it as an invitation to join him on the bench. Out of the corner of your eye, he looked at you and began to laugh. “Sorry, I know this isn’t funny.” You smiled softly.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “Sometimes all you can do is laugh about everything.” You sat back, folding your hands on your lab. “I was lucky that I was given to a loving family but it didn’t stop me from questioning who gave me up. Can you imagine my surprise when I find out the Black Widow and Winter Solider are my biological parents?” He chuckled. You finally looked at the man. “She’s telling the truth, she didn’t know,” Steve looked back at the water. “But I get it. It’s easier to blame someone else in this messy world.” He sighed.

“I blame myself not Nat.” You hummed.

“Can you tell me about him?” You asked. The super soldier was silent. You feared you overstepped but you allowed the man to gather his thoughts. There had to be a lot of emotions running around inside him. He discovered his best friend was alive but at what cost?

“Bucky was loyal,” he began. “He protected me and everyone around him that couldn’t stand up for themselves. He was funny, kind, and my brother,” Steve looked at you. “I guess that makes me your uncle.” You laughed, pumping your shoulder against his.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He nodded. You saw a stone resting on the dock and you stood up to pick it up. It was flat, a perfect stone to skip. Summers were spent by the water. You would spend hours looking for the perfect rocks to skip.

“I’m scared,” you said, running your thumb over the smooth surface before skipping it across the pond.

“Why are you scared?” You turned around to face the blonde and leaned against the wooden post.

“That you and the team are going to get hurt protecting me,” you admitted. “I don’t want that to happen.” He smiled.

“It’s our job,” Steve said. “We signed up for this life.” You frowned, walked over to him, and held out your hand. He placed his on top of yours. His was different, it was warm and rough.

“You may have signed up for it,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I want it to happen.” He closed his hand and squeezed yours.

“We’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Okay,” you were sure if you liked promises. Once upon a time, your adoptive parents promised they would always be around but now they were gone. Would they keep their promises to you?

“That’s it!” Natasha heard Tony yell as she walked into the common area. She changed out of the clothes she wore on her date with Maria into something more comfortable. It was nice spending time with just her girlfriend and Yelena said she would keep an eye on you. She wasn’t expecting to walk in to see you, Tony, Clint, Rhodey, and Sam sitting around a round table playing poker. You threw your cards down and pulled the ‘pot of winnings’ closer to you. The pot was candy and Natasha saw you had the biggest pile. “Your daughter is a cheater.” You looked at the Black Widow, a twinkle in your eye and you unwrapped a jolly rancher.

“You’re a sore loser,” you said, popping the blue candy in your mouth. “Come on let’s play again.” The table groaned as you divided up your pile. Natasha chuckled and joined her sister at the kitchen counter. The blonde had a few files and a bottle of vodka.

“How long has that been going on?” Yelena glanced at the table with a smile.

“About an hour,” Natasha poured herself a shot. “She’s already beat Steve, Vision, and Pietro. Those idioty (idiots) think they can win.” Clint gasped.

“I heard that Belova.”

“You boys know she can count cards, right?” Natasha questioned. It was your turn to gasp.

“I knew it!” You ducked as a smarties got thrown at your head and grabbed the chocolate bar in the middle. Your laughter was music to Natasha’s ears as you jogged over to them and jumped in the empty chair.

“Mom,” you whined. “I was winning. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am, dorogoy. But we have to protect their egos.” You giggled and opened the candy bar. The Black Widow watched you glance at the folders Yelena was reading. Your eyes did a double take. “What is that?”

“I know that man,” you pointed at the picture. “He was at a few poker games.” Yelena closed the folder.

“These poker games,” Yelena said. “Where did they take place?”

“All over the city,” you told her. “Mostly at bars in the back room or warehouses.” The blonde looked at her sister.

“If we send agents to these locations we may find some HYDRA informants that could lead us to the Winter Solider,” she explained. “Do you think you can tell us where they happened?” You shrugged.

“I can try,” you said, taking another bite of the chocolate. “I was young when I went to some of them.” Natasha nodded.

“Run it by Fury,” Yelena cleaned up the folders and left to call the director.

“How was your date with Maria?” You asked once it was just you and her. The Black Widow smiled.

“It was good,” she enjoyed the one-on-one time with her but it was weird having dinner without out, even Maria said something about it. You smiled, breaking off a square, and handed it to her. Natasha took it. “Do you still want to watch Tangled or do you want to beat the boys again?”

“I will choose Tangled over anything.” Natasha chuckled, throwing her arm over your shoulders. You leaned into her embrace.

“It’s nice to see that,” you hummed in question. “Your smile, sweetheart, your smile.”

“Again,” Yelena ordered. You let out a shaky breath as Steve threw the metal shield. It bounced off the practice dummies and came towards you. You caught it the way Steve showed you, feet slipping slightly but you used the force to propel yourself forward and through the shield back. It took the same path as it traveled back to Steve. The super soldier caught it with ease.

“It’s fascinating,” you heard Tony say with a tablet in his hands. “She’s a mini Romanoff.” Yelena nodded and Steve threw it again. This time it was in a rapid session. Every time you caught it, you threw it right back and Steve did the same.

“Do you think Barnes and Nat could have passed down a version of the serum?” Sam asked. That was the theory they wanted to test after you outran Sam and could keep up with Steve.

“We won’t know until her blood work comes back,” the billionaire said. “But it does seem that way.” You let out a breathless laugh. It was another thing to add to your list.

“What the hell are you doing to my kid?” Natasha asked, entering the training room as you caught the shield for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Romanoff, come look at this,” she glared at Tony as she walked over to him. The billionaire showed her the tablet, her facial expression was unreadable.

“Stop using her as some science experiment,” she marched over to you, ripped the shield out of your hands, and threw it at Steve. “My pogovorim ob etom pozzhe (We will talk about this later). She glared at Yelena.

“Mom,” you said as she pulled you away from the other Avengers. “Mom,” you repeated. “I’m fine.”

“Sit,” she pointed to the chair. You did as you were told as she disappeared. When she returned, she was holding a first aid kit. “Does this look fine,” she held up your arm to show you the bruising. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that those bruises were the second round. The others already healed. She knelt in front of you, adding some cream to your arm.

“They are saying that you or Bucky passed down a version of the serum to me,” you watched the Avengers set up another training session this time with Vision and the Maximoff twins. Natasha sighed.

“Maria and I had a similar conversation in Norway,” you looked back at the Black Widow. Her green eyes were already looking up at you.

“How does that change things if that test comes back positive?” You whispered.

“It changes nothing, honey,” your mom said. “You are still my daughter nothing else matters.”

“But will that make me an Avenger?” Natasha shook her head.

“Just because you are different or special doesn’t mean you need to be an Avenger. It will always be your choice. I won’t or Fury or the rest of the team will not force or guilt you to join,” she gently ran her fingers over the bruises that were already beginning to heal. “When you get older and you decide you want to join the team, I will support you tenfold.” You connected your hands with hers and looked at the woman in front of you. In Norway, while the couple was asleep, you opened Maria’s laptop and searched for Natasha Romanoff. Quickly, you learned the things she was subjected to, and the horrors she faced to become the hero the world knew her as. Everything was not her choice. She was forced to become the Black Widow, forced to lie and kill, forced to have you, and forced to give you away. Her life choices were made for her, she wasn’t going to let it happen to you.

“Okay,” you smiled. “Thank you.” Natasha smiled and cleaned up the used medical supplies.

“Try to take it easy in training,” she kissed your forehead. “You’re gonna give your mom a heart attack.” You giggled.

“Yes ma’am. Be nice to Yelena. She made sure I was okay.”

“No promises,” she winked at you and walked over to her sister. You sighed, leaning back in the chair. What a weird life you were living.

Tony called you, Maria, and Natasha into his lab the following morning. He said that the test results were inconclusive due to him only finding fragments of the serum in your DNA when he compared it to Steve and Natasha. But the Black Widow told him that Widows were given different versions of the serum than the one they gave Steve. With this new information, a training schedule was made to prepare you. It was still uncertain if the Avengers were going to use you but you enjoyed training with people other than Natasha and Maria. Hand-to-hand combat with Steve, conditioning with Pietro (which you thought was unfair), and weapon training with Clint and Yelena. But your days weren’t fully spent dripped in sweat and your body aching, your mom made sure of it. You spent time with Wanda in the kitchen, played video games with Sam and Rhodey, and annoyed Tony in this lab. It was fun but you felt like you weren’t doing enough to help. The team met almost every day to brainstorm ideas, but they came up empty.

You were sitting with Yelena looking at the map of the city you grew up in to try to rack your brain where these poker games took place. You remembered a few spots; Ray’s Bar because the owner gave you sour candy and the warehouse by the pier because it smelt bad. You hated going to those games, the smell seemed to stay with you days after the game was over.

You sighed, taking a grape from the fruit bowl Wanda made for you. “What’s wrong Nemnogo krasnyy (little red)?” Yelena asked, continuing to type her mission request to Fury.

“It’s stupid,” a piece of cheese was thrown at your forehead. “What was the for?”

“Because if something is bothering you it’s not stupid. So talk,” You ate the cheese she threw at you.

“I feel like I’m not doing enough to help. I want to do more,” you slumped down into your chair. “I hate feeling worthless.” Yelena closed the laptop and stood up. You heard her approaching footsteps but you didn’t look at her until she was right in front of you.

“You are not worthless,” she said, kneeling to your level. “Your job is to stay safe. That is what the team wants, especially your mama.” You shrugged. Yelena tapped your leg. “What can I do to help?” Well since she asked…

“I want to read possible case files the Winter Solider has been connected to.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, standing up suddenly and going back to her laptop.

“Aunt Lena,” you called after her and was quick to follow her. “I know nothing about him. Wouldn’t it be smart for me to know everything I can?” She opened the laptop slowly. “Think about it. If you guys were to use me as bait it needs to be believable so for it to be believable I need to know everything about my target.” The blonde sighed.

“Your mother will kill me.”

“She won’t know I got them from you. I’ll blame Clint or tell her FRIDAY gave them to me.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Fine, I’ll get the files, okay? Just be careful.” You squealed, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“You are the best! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She shook her head, chuckling.

“I know I am. Now get back to work,” you stood at attention, gave her a mock salute, and ran back over to the map. It was a start and you were excited! The possibility of reading case files made you feel like a spy, like your mom!

You called it an early night, claiming you were tired from training. Both Natasha and Maria seemed to believe it so you had time to read the files Yelena gave you. She was right when they said they didn’t have a lot and many of them were speculated that the Winter Solider was responsible. He was that good, that deadly, that feared that if there were witnesses no one would talk. Sighing, you bit down on the pen you were using. This was your father. Steve told you that he was loyal and protective but in these files, you saw none of that. How much did HYDRA get rid of? “Hey, sweetheart,” you jumped as the door opened and had little time to put the files away before your mom walked in. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked out. She glared at you as she walked into your room. Natasha picked up one of the files and read it over. Then another and another until all of them were in your hands.

“Where did you get these?”

“I found them,” you lied. You hated lying to her but you wanted to protect your aunt. “I wanted to learn more about him so I went searching,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry.” Natasha sat down in front of you, the files on the floor but you refused to look at her.

“Can you look at me?” It took you a moment but you looked up at her. “I’m not angry, okay? I just wish you had come and talked to me about this instead of reading those. Those files,” she pointed to them. “Only tell one side of the story.”

“Steve told me about Bucky but I want to know about-”

“The Winter Solider.” She cut you off. You nodded. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. I know it’s a sensitive topic,” she gave you a sad smile.

“You could never upset me, okay?” She placed her hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead. She quickly moved next to you and pulled you into her arms. “So what do you want to know?”

“Anything you want to share,” in a similar fashion to Steve, she took her time before she spoke. You took her hand and began to trace the lines on the palm of her hand.

“He was Winter to me and some of the other Widows,” she began. “He was a strict trainer, very serious on missions, and quiet. Some days he terrified me but other days he was kind,” you heard the slight shake in her voice but you didn’t dare attention to it. “No matter what though he was extremely protective of me and the other Widows. If a mission were to go wrong, he would take the blame and accept the punishment.”

“Did you love him?” You found yourself asking. Natasha let out a shaky breath, you felt it on the top of your head.

“Not in the way I love Maria but in some way I did. In there, it was rare to see any kindness so when he should it to me I accepted it.” You spun around so you were lying on your stomach and looking up at her. You noticed her green eyes were glossy with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You said.

“Why are you apologizing?” You were sure but it felt like you needed to say it. Maybe you were apologizing for everything she went through. Did anyone tell her they were sorry? Sorry for taking you away. Sorry for forcing her to have you. Sorry for robbing her of her childhood.

“Just thought you needed someone to tell you that.” You whipped away that fell down her cheek. “Do you think I can sleep with you and Maria tonight? Those files were not child-appropriate.” A deep laugh was pulled out of your mom and you counted that as a win.

“Come on buttercup. Let’s go to bed.”

You were lost, unable to follow the conversation as you sat through another meeting to come up with a plan. Somehow Steve and Tony started arguing and your mom tried to stop them. Damn, your head was going to split open. “Enough!” Your sudden outburst got the attention of the room. You stood up from your spot in the corner and walked to the table. “You know damn well it won’t work.” Maria gasped.

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk,” you rolled your eyes at her. You looked around the table, Steve and Tony settled down in their chairs, and your eyes locked on Natasha. “Use me. I’m ready. I’ve trained, I’ve studied, and we know he won’t come out unless I’m there.”

“Sweetheart,” your mom pleaded but you held up your hand to stop her.

“I’ve thought about it, every possible outcome, and I know how dangerous he is. I mean I saw him murder my parents.” Tony mumbled, ‘Twins,’ under his breath. “But we have to stop him. The longer HYDRA has him the more people will get hurt. We have to save him,” the team was quiet, as they had a silent conversation with one another. But Natasha’s eyes stayed on you, afraid if she looked away you would disappear right before her eyes. “Come on guys,” you whined. “We got this! You are the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes. You’ll protect me.” They were waiting for Natasha’s approval, no one was going to speak before her. You kept your heart steady and your poker face down so she could see everything. Finally, she sighed.

“I don’t like it,” she admitted. Then again who would? She was going to have to watch her daughter be live bait. “But she’s right, it’s our only option.” You smiled, nodding your head.

“How we do proceed?” Vision asked. “We must ensure the capture of Sargent Barnes and the safety of Miss. Romanoff.” You liked Vision. He was the only Avenger to call you, ‘Miss. Romanoff’, it made you feel more connected to her.

“Actually,” you raised your hand slowly. “I have an idea.”

“Little red,” you looked up from your phone. Steve was walking towards you with two men. The nickname seemed to spread once Yelena said it in front of the team. You heard it more than your actual name, it made you feel like a superhero. “I want you to meet some people.” You stood up and met the trio halfway. “This is Agent Brock Rumlow and Secretary Alexander Pierce.” You shook the men’s hands. You’ve seen them around the compound, a handful of times but you’ve never been introduced. “Agent Rumlow will be in charge of the SHIELD agents assigned to this mission.”

“I must say it’s a good plan. I was told you came up with it,” Pierce said. You nodded.

“Yes sir,” you said. “I knew the only way to ensure his capture was if it was believable and I was present.” Pierce smiled, you didn’t like it. A chill went down your spine.

“You’re a brave kid,” he said and the four of you began the walk to the conference room. It was the final meeting, to make sure all the Ts were crossed and Is were dotted. Rumlow trailed behind you, Pierce, and Steve.

“Are you not scared?” He asked. “The Winter Solider isn’t someone to be messed with.” You hated his tone but you brushed it off, there were other things to worry about.

“Terrified,” you admitted. “But I know all of you have my back,” Steve opened the door. “Right, Agent Rumlow?” You asked him, refusing to enter the room. He smirked.

“Right, Little Red.” Oh, you hated the way he said your name. You walked into the room and sat between Natasha and Maria. Immediately, your mom grabbed onto your hand and squeezed it. You squeezed it back.

With the plan in motion, you were starting to feel sick to your stomach. The busy New York streets were doing nothing to calm your nerves, even though you could pinpoint the SHIELD agents stationed around you. This was your plan after all. For the past few days, you were sending text messages to your ‘friends’ back home and claimed you hated living with the Avengers. You double-downed and said they were holding you against your will. Tony made sure your messages could be seen. Finally, a number you didn’t recognize messaged you and proclaimed they could get you away from them. A plan was made for you to sneak your way to New York City and meet at a cafe. Unbeknownst to your mysterious contact, the Avengers were in the loop. You would entertain the man until the Winter Solider made his appearance. As soon as he was there, you were to get to a predetermined location and a SHIELD agent would get you away from the fight.

You were given no coms. The only thing you were given was a bracelet with a tracker on it that your mom gave you. You sipped on your hot chocolate and played with the piece of jewelry. You wished you could hear your mom’s voice but you knew she was watching. So was Maria, Yelena, and Clint. “Hello,” you jumped at the sudden voice, hitting your knee against the table.

“Sorry,” you whipped the hot chocolate you split. “You startled me.” The man laughed and offered his hand. You shook it as he sat down. He wasn’t what you were expecting, glasses, long black hair, and tattoos. He chuckled.

“It’s fine. I can imagine you are on edge with everything going on,” you nodded as the man put a briefcase on the table.

“It’s been a crazy few months,” you admitted.

“Parents murdered by the Winter Solider and kidnapped by the Avengers,” you took a sip of your drink, it was still hot. “What made you want to get away from them now?” He asked.

“I just miss my friends,” your voice shaking was a good choice. You deserved an Oscar for this performance. “I miss my life before all this,” he opened the briefcase. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll get you home, sweetheart, trust me,” it happened rather quickly. The man reached for your hand and with his free one he had a small syringe. You had to admit it was ballsy, attacking in such a public location. But you were quick to pull your hand away and splash your hot chocolate on the man’s face. In his panic, you jumped over the metal fence and heard the man speak frantically in Russian, no doubt to the com he was wearing.

You got flashbacks as three black vans came rushing down the street, and innocent civilians dove out of the way. But you stayed, you needed confirmation. The man overcame his shock and jumped over the fence. He swung at you. You grabbed his fist and used his momentum to throw him over your body. With his back on the ground, you delivered a quick punch and he was out cold.

The vans stopped and there he was. An assault rifle was in his hands and his metal arm was shining in the sun. His eyes were glued to you as HYDRA agents poured down the street. You thought it was overkill but their attention was diverted when Tony flew overhead, blowing up one of the vans. That was your cue, you turned around and ran.

You thanked every conditioning session Pietro put you through because you made it to the alley in no time. “Little Red,” you sighed as you saw the SHIELD agent.

“Agent-” his name died on your lips as a gunshot went off and his body slumped to the ground. A hand went around your mouth before you could scream and a sharp prick on your neck made your eyes water. You tried to fight the assailant as he dragged you to a van, over the bodies of the other agents that were assigned to protect you. Whatever they injected you became too much, your eyes began to close as they threw you in the back of the van. The last thing you felt was them ripping the bracelet off your wrist before the world went dark.

You woke with a start. You dreamt that you were falling, screaming for someone to help you but no one was there. In the dim light, your eyes adjusted to the room, no cell, you were in. There was a toilet, a door with a caged window, a mattress you were lying on, and stood in the corner was him. The Winter Solider. You jumped to your feet and faced him. The sudden movement caused your head to spin but you remained standing. His eyes were cold, void of any emotion. If he knew who you were, he gave no indication. He looked at you like he was staring right through you. “Hi,” you squeaked out. God, your heart was beating so fast. Rattling against your rib cage. There was no way he couldn’t hear it then again you could hear his. You focused on it, the slow pace of his heart. You let out a shaky breath then another. Soon your heartbeat matched his and you looked at his face, half of it covered by that mask. There was a small spark in his blue eyes that quickly disappeared. He was impressed. “Where am I?” This time your voice was steady. Instead of answering, he closed the distance between you and him. You fought every nerve in your body that called out for you to run. But you stayed. Even when he towered over you and tried to force your back against the wall.

You were terrified, fear crept deep within your bones, as his eyes looked over every detail of your face. Was he trying to memorize it or find a memory? You weren’t sure. With his metal hand, he gripped your chin. You were surprised at how gently his touch was. “Who?” He grunted out, you almost missed it. Did he ask you who? What the hell was that? He could have added so many more words to make a thought. Instead, he asked you who? Before you could question him, the door opened and he was back in his corner. Four heavily armed men entered the room.

“Well, well, well,” you knew that voice. “Look whose finally up.”

“Rumlow,” you said as the SHIELD agent walked in followed by Pierce. “And Pierce.” What was going on? They worked for SHIELD, they were the good guys. Your stomach dropped at the realization. They beat you, you met someone with a better poker face than your own. You hated cheaters.

“The whore’s daughter is smart.” Rumlow chuckled. Your blood boiled but you had to be smart. You were given a losing hand and you weren’t ready to fold. Pierce held up his hand to silence him and stepped closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Winter Solider move. The rest of the room missed it.

“What do you want from me?” The man grabbed a hold of your chin, forcing your head side to side. Winter grunted in the corner, this time the room heard it.

“Looks like she has a guard dog already,” Rumlow teased. Pierce dropped the hold he had on you, your jaw sore.

“Welcome to the new world order,” he said. “Hail HYDRA.”

Sorry! I know another part is annoying but this was getting really long. Good news is a lot of it is written soo I'm hoping to post it on Monday, maybe Sunday. Enjoy!

#blackhill x daughter!reader #blackhill x reader #blackhill x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers x reader #blackhill #maria hill x reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #maria hill x natasha romanoff

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ceilidho · 8 months

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hi hi hi ceil! I hope you're doing well. My new year's resolution is to read more books, and I was just wondering if there were any you would rec? I really enjoy the stuff you right, and wondered where you get the inspiration from

hi hi!!!! im doing great actually, i had a nice day :))

oh i have SO many!! these are just my personal favourite and i read a lot of literary fiction and non-fiction and 'weird' lit, so hopefully something on this list sounds fun to you:

glass, irony, and god by anne carson [poetry - although i would recommend absolutely anything by anne carson]

half-light: collected poems 1965-2016 by frank bidart [poetry - honestly one of the poets you MUST read if you love poetry in my opinion - bidart, carson, dionne brand, louise gluck, paul celan, maggie nelson, adrienne rich, rainer maria rilke, t.s eliot, jan zwicky, kahlil gibran]

rings of saturn by w.g. sebald [literary fiction - unnamed narrator takes a walking tour of suffolk, england, and the book is about the encoded meaning found in everything; i love sebald so so much]

house of leaves by mark danielewski [architectural / weird horror; cult classic; spooky and eerie in the best way; high concept, a bit complicated to follow but worth it]

drive your plow over the bones of the dead by olga tokarczuk [fiction / thriller, a bit - read this last month and this book hooked me oh my god, it was so good]

severance by ling ma [apocalyptic / post-apocalyptic - possibly one of my fave books in this genre]

the overstory by richard powers [environmental fiction - multiple different narratives that sometimes converge, sometimes don't; truly had me weepy at points] (also, if you like environmental books, the golden spruce by john vaillant)

the complete cosmicomics by italo calvino [strange literary fiction, short stories - oh these are so delightfully strange and zippy and weird, they feel like eating starbursts or something!!!]

underland by robert macfarlane [non-fiction - this consumed me for days when i read oh my god. all about underground structures, catacombs, caves and caving, mines, radioactive waste disposal, etc]

the lonely city by olivia laing [non-fiction - a sad book, but still hopeful; she has such insightful commentary on art and queer history too]

the library at mount char by scott hawkins [weird fiction - so cool, SUCH a cool fun book oh my god. very interesting premise and executed to perfection]

some other names i'd recommend: eileen myles, maggie nelson, rebecca solnit, and ursula k. leguin (for your scifi/fantasy needs)

#book recs

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fantomette22 · 1 month

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What are some Maria headcanons that you have?

( @izunias-meme-hole)

Lady Maria headcanons post (part 1) :

Alright! Well I already share those a while ago : https://www.tumblr.com/fantomette22/743244500505378816/lady-maria-vs-keeper-of-the-old-lords?source=share +couple of other around my blog

So I will try to share other things not just related to « Maria could do pyromancy from her living if she really wanted to but was actually terrified by it! Because she didn’t want to use her own blood to inflict pain and death. » also I won’t explain in detail how I hc she got her Rakuyo : by directly going to the East herself! (Yamamura’s country).

🍂But why did she name it like that? The Rakuyo? Well Rakuyo means « fallen leaves » right? Well, when she finally got her blade she needed to baptise it, to use it properly for the first time. And guess on what she uses it? A fallen leaf! (naturally falling in autumn). Cut it straight in two halves. And that’s how she knew how she was going to name it.

Enjoy the ride t's going to be long ;)

⚔️She got an Evelyn gun during her teenage years and before the Rakuyo she often train & fight with both a chikage and a reiterpallasch (she really like dual wielding 😎 or maybe with another sword like the shadow could have been a thing she fight with 🤔 but yeah I guess she was trained with all type of weapons) I wonder if she could have been a bit ambidextrous too.

⚜️Ok now concerning her family (tree) I have at least 5 different headcanons for it 💀but let’s just go with my main one aka the fic verse one (where she’s just Annalise’s cousin XD). Because if you get me started on the alternatives it’s just never gonna be over XD (those are really in very different timelines. It’s not really the same characters & events are different)

🩸I imagined she had quite a mixed relationship with her family. It’s like when you love them bc it’s your family, you like the good memories and nice moments you have, this little chill & special outings etc but there’s also some stuff you’ll never be able to forget or forgive them. You feel you need distance and be autonomous to not get hurt by them anymore, to not get frustrated and misunderstood. Just have news and share things outside.

She never really fit in with her peers. Kinda an odd one who just masks really well to fit into the mood when asked of her. I prefer to say « a (white) wolf » in a pack of hounds in context but yeah black sheep in a white flock if it’s easier to understand x) She had a lot of pressure on her shoulder as well (being the last pyromancer and not far in the line of succession)

But she really likes her close cousins which she grew up with (Annalise, Vled), a couple of other friends (Charles, Svetta, a couple of future young knights etc) as well as younger relatives and kids (Leo etc)! But she doesn’t get that much along with the others. Like she goes along better with the servants probably.

⚜️She mainly grew up between Cainhurst and where her parents had lands and their manor (in the north, near a coast). Her parents are often not there because they are sent by the crown to places so it's complicated . When her mother is in a good mood that’s mostly fine, her dad is a bit more chill (he taught her how to play a lot of card games and poker too! She probably played 2-3 times with money at stake. She prefers amical things. She will absolutely beat your ass at it too. She’s the definition of having a poker face XD)

👑She was a lil bit raised like a future lady in waiting but more as future knight (page (of the king), squire, knight training etc really rough training too 💀 very dark shit hm like beat the shit out of people while wearing a full weight armor, swim in a ice lake and idk shot hm dead things… I swear there’s more fun things but hm yeah…)

That one really isn’t fun as well but i imagined that during her teenage years she already had to deal with mental health issues (due to well some pb with her family etc). Thankfully, she did get better after spending a summer a bit far away at a friend's home (to simplify). Still she got scared for some years afterwards that some of those dark thoughts would eventually return. Thankfully it didn't for most of her life. She got some happy times…Bad times too but not that bad until well probably more than 15-20y later where you know… she would sadly not make it out this time.

🌌She was accepted as Byrgenwerth and went to mainly study sciences, astronomy, but did learn a bit of theology as well as medicine (basic medicine stuff, nurse & help midwife etc). She did 5y and got a master degree. She also participated in underground expeditions arranged by Byrgenwerth.

⭐️She probably know how to speak way more than 2 languages : whatever they speak in Yharnam, latin/pthumerian language, whatever the equivalent of Japanese is and probably a bit of other European languages too. Oh a north/slavic languages as well, because she had ancestors from there too).

🐴When she was very little they got some borzoi I guess but most of her life at Cainhurst she got 2 siblings crows (I have Phobos & Deimos names in my draft) as well as her own horse, named Filan. (mean little wolf in gaelic/irish apparently? Speaking of which Maria's nickname when she was little was "little wolf" maybe in another language too). She probably had a couple of plants too.

(suppose to be almost a full black horse but i’m not 100% settle because i could go full horsemen of the apocalypse aesthetic with other knights if i change the colors… but in my first draft that’s a black horse yes)

🔥When she was very little they discovered she could eventually have pyromancer blood power.It might have been a huge pride for them and honor for her but… clearly Maria didn’t want to become like the shadows of the antics pthumerian royals. A silent and hidden knight who kills without asking questions… clearly she wasn’t really found of this idea 😅 Thankfully for her she don’t know or to use such power and didn’t put much effort to try to learn it (in life she will probably accidentally use it 2-3 time…)

She highly respects a lot of traditions and culture from Cainhurst but there’s stuff like exposing the remains of animal prey that she found a bit barbaric. She doesn't mind others using blood blades and she will do it alone/ for training or even in choreography but she doesn’t wish to hurt or kill with it.*

💔So she was supposed to become a royal guard but things didn’t go like they should have…the poor young knights got into a fight with something by accident… a mortal trap they couldn’t win… only Maria made it out alive. Very hurt and slightly traumatized… She then had a huge fight with her family & relatives about what happened. She couldn’t even send news to her friends bc they forbid it to calm any rumors about what happened…Hm then Maria’s family decide to send her more north where her parents have lands etc so things calm down and she could ya know do her knight work or smt. Anyway she run away at Byrgenwerth💀

Sorry for the meme jebfekb I am not giving lot of details for now but it's highly link with my Knight & Beast of Cainhurst story.

(Why this meme too? Well due to rumours her friends legit thought she died 💀 she went to Byrgen only 1-2 months later. During the holidays. So she sent to like Ludwig & the other who weren't there letters to tell them she was ok. That's were came this meme XD)

❤️‍🩹Anyway she was partially disowned of some stuff for a bit and didn’t came back at Cainhurst for while. But after some times, her and her family wanted to both apologize and reunite, but without an occasion it would be complicated. Well, until a CERTAIN SOMEONE stole the forbidden blood to Cainhurst and tell them Maria helped 💀 (she had no idea, and he only did that bc he owns her one). So she didn’t approve but she kinda reconciled and they gave her the occasion to do a mission for them later on, in JAPAN (the Eastern land) and well you know the rest.

⚓️She had the occasion to go to « Japan » and have her dream of becoming like half in charge of a ship after getting her master degree! (she just did navigation stuff with the stars but maybe she was captain lol that’s what she wanted to do when she was little actually. But reading Evelyn diaries and not just the novels she realised how hard it was to always have such life h24)

Congratulations Lady Maria!

After really hard years.. and trauma… and a exhausting presentation

You win :

a master degree in astronomy (sciences & other things)

a nice meal with your parents & family that congratulate you

a big part of your inheritance back!

a super wine bottle to share with your friends

a trip to japan

finally your promised personalised double sword

a personalised hunting attire when you came back

to able to work with gehrman’s hunters & the healing church when you came back

So proud of you ❤️👏

✨Other lil hcs :

Laurence made her very interested in religion. I am not joking, I sincerely believe he converted her somehow. / Made her very interest into great one religion etc

Gehrman saved her life more than once, she did the same. They went into lot of hunt training/camping trip as the beggining of being hunters.

She became great friends with Ludwig, Rom, Caryll, friends Damian too etc back at Byrgenwerth. With Micolash it was a bit more nuanced for a while. Before becoming close friends they were roasting each other often XD but respected each other too.

Her brooch either came from her mother or the late queen (aunt) so a family heirloom I guess. Ressemble a lumenflower.

She helped the early healing church with treating people, make food, teach kids etc

She was highly respected by all the old hunters. Even if she had some tensions with dear Izzy at like the beginning they knew each other XD She earn their respect and everyone ended up very liking her being her kindness, abilities etc

When she was sent alone or with a couple of hunters to help in a secluded villages, people were of course really skeptical at first but she quickly proved them her worth.

I think sometimes she wears dresses… but hey she never wears high heels or ballerina shoes (she hates it so hey she still has her special style! aka huge boots XD) It’s often very simple ones as well. Except at Cainhurst, it’s not very extravagant.

She loves to read tons of books (cainhurst library is there for smt XD)

With her cousins they loved to explore and wander the castle! At night too.. got them into trouble more than once.

Sometimes she wears sunglasses when it’s very sunny (poor girl has white eyelashes you see! she have an excuse)

She really loved the lumenflowers too like i explained last time.

She got some scars at the base of her neck. That’s why she almost always wear a jabot with her broach. (maybe on the hands too. that’s why she often has gloves).

She made (with a bit of help) Gherman’s red scarf while in japan.

“Of the Astral Clocktower” because she basically funded its construction with her own money. So like it’s partially hers on papers. (She did mostly astronomical studies & took care of the patients kind of like a nurse during her time at the research hall

She could play a couple of instruments (especially violin and cello).

Of course she know many ballroom & court dance and taught other to others when they were invited to some places.

She actually can “sing” very well (but more music without real lyrics like the dream ost for exemple) ! She would probably almost never do that in public too.

Some books at the workshop are hers

Oh, did I already told she was very scared of pthumerian pyromancers before she fought the keeper of the old lords?

Ok now because I didn't know what to add to the post I asked some of my friends to help me with questions they wanted to know about! Thanks @heraldofcrow & @fareehaandspaniards there you go:

Was she comfortable with life at Cainhurst? (Before the Vileblood)

I think I answered that above ^ it’s very complex and complicated. Sometimes it goes well (especially in childhood) but sometimes it’s very complicated and not so good… (especially during teenage years and during some events where she got a lot of pressure and all. It got better after all this mess and Vilebloods mess of course (even if some distance was left compared to before).

🩸🐦‍⬛Bloody Crow’s relation to Maria?

In my main hc he’s the son of Maria’s cousin (Vled, the knight). So her little cousin basically. But to simplify I often say he’s like a nephew to her. I named him Voron! (I know very imaginative it means raven XD) Still unsure if he’s born before or after the hamlet (probably after too) but in all cases Maria was around to help with the birth and to help take care of him for the first couple of days. She loved him very much. Also In the case something were to happen to his parents, well the king & queen would take care of him but if somehow they can’t/something were to happen to them too, Maria promised she would be the one to take care of him.

Still, she died when he was very young. Probably like 3-6 years old. So he does remember a bit. But just a little and he has very good memories of her. But he also saw his family hurting from her disappearance and all and so he grew more mixed feeling but mostly it stays positive. He really looks like her in a lot of ways.

🕷️Rom and Maria friendship 🥺?

I see you want to know more about their friendship! I think They had a wholesome friendship overall! But it didn't begins great. I am trying to write it in my fic since a few months but it's all hard and idk how to do that exactly XD

Like they were doing a group exercise and Rom was pretty bad and it (supposed to be quite easy) and Maria who got frustrated to explain it so much lash out a bit and tell her like “are you dumb or something?”

Everyone in the class isn't very nice to Rom (and Maria) and said worst things behind her back so she thought that was, you know OK somehow and not that mean. But she quickly realized afterwards her mistake, that Rom was the Provost daughter and that she had some disability. But despite that, she was still trying hard and she must be very strong to have the lvl to be here you know!

Maria feels very bad about it (Micolash had dark looks to give her too lmao) but after a while (talking with other people cough cough) she decided to come to her and apologize sincerely and even try to help her on a few things.

Rom was quite surprised at first because nobody, you know approaches her like this to apologize and that's a huge thing considering Maria is from Cainhurst and a noble.

I mean she didn't even have hard feelings against Maria because everyone else is way meaner and she kinda forgot about it. She was quite surprised but also very thankful and they began to talk more. Micolash was the most surprised and he told Rom to be careful to not get walk over, to not believe lies and stuff but he quickly realized that it was genuine. And Rom had to reminded him (with Damian) that well, when he first meet Rom he was kinda of a bully at first! Before becoming a mother hen with Damian.

So yes the two girls began to talk about a lot of things! She even got invited to Rom’s room. There’s tons of insects and underglass and stuff but generally people don't like that but Maria found it cool! She got some back home too and found it very interesting actually! So they quickly became friends with all the little gang. And also they are basically the two girls of the squad! I mean Caryll is in the girls squad too but they can also be in the boys squad so yeah anyway you know how girl besties can be x) you don’t share the same things exactly. Plus Caryll & Rom are really in the must protected squad.

Maria even defends Rom from her family when she came back for the holiday and they asked her if she made some friends and who they were and stuff. And you know uh Mara had to told them in a very exaggerated manners that « oh I'm friend with the Provost daughter you know! » (You know because that's what they want to know, if she made strong connections with interesting people before anything else…)

But of course, you're going to have very rude comments from some relatives or something who’s going to say “oh the retarded one?” 💀 And everyone's looking at him like “can you please not say it like this?” Poor Maria just standing there and dunno what to say because she really cares about her as a friend. She doesn't just want to have friends to show off she has important contacts. She genuinely values those friendships. Sadly, she can’t just tell her family that her friends are mostly “the weird introvert group kids! just like me!”(so she talk about Ludwig too! but don't put too much details on others…)

So yeah they stayed great friends for years. Sadly, in tough moments they didn’t really share what hurt them to the other… (after kos etc maybe a bit but not too much)

🗡️🛡️What or who inspired Maria's path of knighthood in her youth?

History books & knight novels! Her grand uncle, the other knights, king etc, Her family push her/ “let her choose” that way as well.

Lady Evelyn stories (she was like Maria grand aunt/ cousin of her grandparents, mostly an adventurer).

The bodyguard of Annalise’s mother who was at first a mercenary sent to Loran before becoming a royal knight.

🍜What were Maria's food preferences?

Hm i think if it looks/smells average and edible she’s actually not that complicated XD She made a lot of effort through the years to get used to more common and simple food.

My poor girl couldn’t really cooked anything when she arrived at Byrgenwerth besides cutting basic things, make tea, made ramen and skins animal meat (like rabbit) before Gehrman thought her other recipes 😭 (she made great soups afterwards! hunters like it, she cuts aliments well XD but yeah my boy cooks well for everyone he made her liked many simple things that if not done well many don’t like. But bro is the only one who probably likes some chard gratin or something out of everyone…)

Like most of her family, i supposed she would very much enjoy some rare/medium rare meat XD but when it’s EVERYDAY she got very tired 💀 I mean she tried to tell her family it was too much so they respected her wishes and gave her only vegetables for a couple of days… but not like normal meals no! like a whole ass not decorticate salad or full ass carrots with skins and all! 💀 She rapidly apologized like you can guess. (still she can’t stand those damn carpaccio when there’s too much!)

Besides that yeah only non meat dishes don’t bother her at all, she would even prefer most of the time. She likes both sophisticated but also very simple dishes she discovered. Exotic food from the east. Of course my girl liked sushis, fish, sea fruit etc. I mean she used to like it way more before… you know… afterwards many hunters couldn’t just smell white fish for a few days without feeling nauseous…. for Maria she just couldn’t bring herself to eat like 95% of white sea fish anymore… (I guess salmon and thon and lobster were still ok but that’s it really).

And well of course deserts are always so nice so whatever 🤤

🌻Her relationship with Adeline? /Who is Adeline to her in your interpretation?

(Yeah both of you asked me this one! x) )

Well depending on the interpretations I have two main interpretations for her! (in the AU/very different timeline where Gehrman is like Maria's dad, that's her girlfriend lol) but in my main interpretation that’s not really the case. I prefer to see them as friends and very close friends I think? during her early time at the research hall. Another close friend she made who’s mainly outside of her main group. But both have quite an evolution through the years they knew each other.

If i remember the draft in my head correctly it goes like this :

After Maria graduated (and came back from her mission trip) she went to help the early healing church develop itself and its activities between hunts and going in the pthumerians labyrinth and that’s where she met Adeline.

I supposed Adeline is a Yharnamite? but she lost everything (her family. not sure what happened) and basically didn’t have a home anymore and clearly saw herself as worthless (poor girl had terrible self esteem issues all her life afterwards…) So the early healing church took in some people in need, gave them a place to sleep, eat and heal them if they were sick. Maria took care and helped Adeline during that time (after it was Laurence too).

And so the 2 became friends! In the end Adeline (who had nothing left) decided to dedicate her life to the healing church and helped others as well, so they saw each other with Maria afterwards! They advised each other and could have been a bit confident of each other as well. Of course Maria wasn’t very hyped when Adeline became a blood saint fully (seeing the bad things it could do to people) but she respected her choices.

During the research hall, before Adeline took part in the experiments, she helped Maria, Rom, Caryll etc around with the patients & other things. I suppose because of some dreams/ exposure to something, the decline of everyone's mental health, and maybe other people asking her... she decided to give herself fully to those experiments as well in the end… Her death was one of the last straws for Maria...

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I know I have more questions left but I am reaching Tumblr word limit soon so I will reblog/make a 2nd post (or even a 3rd)💀 with the rest of the most interesting (and huge) questions! It's not quite written yet but for now this should be a nice distraction and a good reading I hope!

#my asks #bloodborne #bloodborne headcanons #lady maria of the astral clocktower #bloodborne fanfiction #lady maria #my art #fantomette22art

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