#I need to repay them before he decides to retire again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leonw4nter · 3 months

Text

Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side

Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader

fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)

SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.

Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.

God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.

The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.

“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.

“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.

“A fish scale?”

“Mermaid scale.”

“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”

All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.

Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.

“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.

This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.

“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.

“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.

“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.

“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.

“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.

“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?

The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.

“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.

“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.

“Think you can do that for me?”

The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.

Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.

“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.

“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.

He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.

“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.

“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.

“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.

She smiles, still patting his back.

“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”

She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.

“How’d you find me?” he asks.

“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.

“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.

“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.

“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.

“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.

“Yeah, I am.” you say.

“That explains the voice.”

“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”

“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”

“Oh?”

You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.

“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.

“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.

NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3

The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #biohazard #resident evil 4 remake #re4make #re4 remake #re4r

165 notes · View notes

coleskingdom · 3 months

Text

Mine Pt 4

This will be a six part story. This chapter has no smut.

The Forbidden Door meeting

I wake up before Jay, my mind refusing to shut off. I lay there in the early morning light watching him sleep. I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m falling in love with him my chest gets tight at the thought that he might get hurt because of me. A tear falls down my face. Jays eyes open “ Hey, what’s wrong?” Still half asleep, “Nothing”I say and try to smile. Now fully awake “We don’t do that remember” He’s rolls on his side facing me. “So I’m going to ask you again, what’s wrong?” I can tell he’s bracing himself. “ I’m worried you’re going to get hurt because of me.” His hand strokes my face moving a strand of hair, “It won’t be because of you, it’s real but we will all be professionals. Besides I’d bet you’d be cute in a nurses outfit.” I laugh and the tension is broken.

Jays phone rings, “Hey Will, she’s fine why? I don’t think she’s looked at her phone in the past two days. No that’s exactly what happened, yeah I haven’t talked to anyone over there yet. I appreciate it man, I’ll repay you the favor. You’re right an excuse to get Finlay out is a good enough reason. I’ll let her know.” he hangs up. “ Apparently you need to look at your phone, you’ve got a good portion of people worried about you.”

I sigh heavily and pick up my phone, and hand it to Jay. “Please, I can’t right now.” He scrolls through my messages and I can tell he’s deleting the ones that he knew I wouldn’t want to read. “Your dad texts like a psycho.” Handing me back the phone.

I start to read the text out loud

The Bang Bang Brats

“Are you our new mom?”

ELP <3

Tell Jay GOD is ready to join Gold.

Ospreay

Whatever you need it’s yours? I had no clue about your dad and Finlay, next time you decide to get married let a guy know okay. I’m sorry love I wasn’t there for you.

ZSJ

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Finlay really? Why didn’t you say something, I could’ve done something. You really got a thing for those Bullet Club boys, I warned you about them years ago. I have to say of the lot Jay is the best of them. Be happy love, it’ll all be fine, if you need anything let me know.

“I’m glad I read them”I sighed and smiled. I leaned my head over on Jays shoulder, he put his hand in mine brushing my knuckles. “ I’m glad you did to, it seems you have quite the fan club. Love” in the absolute worst British accent I’ve ever heard, his eyes showing his amusement when I turned to look at him. He kissed me softly, resting his forehead on mine. “We better get ready before, I cancel the meetings and we just stay here. “

We got ready and were downstairs when the first knock came. Matt,Nick, Page, Cole, Kenny Tony and Rocky were all there. Followed by a catering team , who asked where to set up . “ Just put it on the island “ Jay said casually winking at me, as he predicted my face turned pink.

I sat beside him at the table. Everyone else gathered with Tony at the head of one end with Kenny at the other. Jays body tensed as he stares down the table at Kenny. I put my hand on his thigh trying to give him support, he could never let being Kenny’s young boy go, mainly because Kenny insisted on reminding him of it at any chance he had.

Tony started “ Good Morning, I trust everyone had a good evening last night. Thank you all for being here. I was told the result of the private vote was to move forward with a forbidden door program. I’ve spoken with President Tannashi and he agrees that it’s time for the Bullet Club Civil War. The only stipulation is that it can be any member of the club that was current or retired prior to Saturdays incident. We will need rosters from each group and we will be preparing the matches out of interest and fairness. However the main event will be David vs Jay. Loser loses his club, the winner has the right to include or exclude the others current members, but only one club will be recognized after the match. “

A low rumbling went around the table as the words sank in.

Tony slides a contract towards me, “ I’m presenting you both with a talent and employment contract. You will see that the terms of talent are through forbidden door but that the employment offer for you to be in talent relations is a five year deal.You’ve worked hard and you deserve this. However, you will need to be on screen with Jay, I will leave that to the two of you to discuss how and what the presentation is going to be. “ My eyes were as big as saucers, I never wanted to be on screen talent. Jay took my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you, I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” I said.

Kenny spoke next “ Jay, you really couldn’t let Japan go could you. I left the keys in your hands you had it all but you had to come here you had to bring Bullet Club with you. You’ve had to make your mess my mess. Now you’re trying to be the savior of bullet club because it’s all you have. I don’t even understand why I’m here or what I have to do with any of this. I’m part of the Elite and was part of the version of Bullet Club that brought this whole thing to prominence. The fact that this all over some girl who was making shitty choices because she has Daddy issues. “

With that Jay slid back from the table and yanked Kenny up by his collar. “Say what you want about me, but you keep her out of your mouth. You don’t even realize that your best days are behind you, Ospreay and I both made sure of that, and if I need to I’ll finish it myself. If you want to align with Finlay go ahead, I’ll take on the both of ya. As for now though get the fuck out of my house.”

Matt and Nick got in between both of them. Jay let Kenny go, but dared him to say anything further. “Matt Nick let’s go” Kenny said. “Not this time Kenny. You’ve gone too far.”Matt said regretfully . Kenny looked around the table for support , none of the other men will meet his eyes. I however refused to look away from him my jaw set firm, and hard. Kenny stormed out the front door slamming it behind him.

“He’ll calm down, he’s out injured anyway. He insisted on being here because he’s an EVP. I’m sorry I didn’t expect him to disrespect your home. The fact that you’re prioritizing someone you care about, is a regret he still has and has never gotten over“ Matt said .

“Who have you heard from?” Tony asked changing the subject .

“As for Japan, you really don’t have much support Jay. The War Dogs, Kenta, Owens , House of Torture are all together. GOD said they texted you to let you know that they will be aligning with Gold. You have a lot of support from United Empire and TMDK that have offered to do matches on the road to forbidden door in hopes that they can keep them fatigued. That’s about all you’ve got. “ Rocky said

“ So I need what 10 -12 guys? “ Jay said “Closer to 15 guys I’m afraid.” Rocky said.

“Matt, Have you heard from AJ , Deviit or Cody?”

“ they’re all sitting this out, which numbers wise works better for us. “ Matt confirmed.

“ What about Austin and Bey?” I asked trying to do the math in my head.

Jay picked up his phone “ Hey Chris, I need to know where you are on this whole thing. We’d love to have y’all. Thanks man talk soon.” They’re in . I think we have our numbers..”

“I want Gabe “ Page said abruptly, “he’s been running his mouth too fucking long about me. It needs to be a death match.”

“We want Connor’s and Maloney they keep shitting on our legacy. I’m sick of it. “ Nick added

“ I think Japan would be agreeable to this.” Tony said and Rocky nodding his head.

“ Cole do you have anyone you’d like to take out personally? “ Jay asked

“Coughlin, and if I’ve got to team with page to get to him then that’s what we need to do death match and all. “ Cole not loving the idea of a death match but wanting Coughlin more.

“What about you sweetheart, what do you want out of this?” Jay asked

“ I just want to y’all to come out safe.” I said.

“That’s no fun sweetheart, I mean who do you want to slap, or kick in the balls, something that you get to do on the talent side. “

“My father, and Finlay.” Laughing at the idea.

“Tony you’ve created a monster, I’m afraid . She’s been thinking about this a while. Britt can help her get ring ready..” Cole offered

“I think that’s it for a while guys I’ll get the paperwork to you for signature and review.” Which was the dismissal from Tony.

Everyone stayed a little longer. They wanted to talk about my on screen presentation. “ I never thought I’d be on screen, I was content in the background.” I said. “ Well you’ve been given two contracts from Tony so you’re in. Now it’s about your presentation, you’ll need one move that you can execute well. .” Matt said. “ What’s your favorite move of all time. “ Jay asked“ The Superkick” the other four men answered in unison. Jay looked at me “Seriously?” I shrugged my shoulders "I was an hbk fan what can I say. “

“She actually has a fairly decent one, we’ve worked with her on it before. She wanted Shawn’s so I worked on it with her it’s been a while though.” Cole shrugged “ What style is she going for asked Page, the bullet club bunnies aren’t going to work….” I’m not doing that hell no.” I cut him off abruptly. “ I think I just want a slightly sexy black and gold look. Jeans, heels a tank or bustier. “ I was actually feeling pretty pleased with the idea.

“ You’ll wear my jacket though, we can modify one, you can have either the switchblade or bullet club logo. If you go with the logo I’d like you to wear a golden switch blade necklace. Just on camera.” Jay said. "Now wait a minute, you don’t need for it to look like you own her.” Page said “ I’m okay with it, it’s pretty rock n roll actually. I’d rather look rock n roll than a ring rat, besides bullet club has always been cool. And it’s something we are all doing together. I’m going to go with the gold logo and the necklace. When I’m with everyone and if it’s just Jay and I I’ll have the switchblade logo. I need not to be damsel in distress.” The guys seem to be in agreement and they started working on story lines. I needed a break, so I excused myself.

I found myself a little place on the back porch in a rocking chair that overlooked the property. “ How are you doing Darlin?” Page asked handing me a glass of whiskey

“It’s been a lot, but I’m happy.” I smiled

“So you and Jay huh? “ he questioned

“He and I spent a lot of time together when y’all left for AEW. It was he and I and the new bullet club for a while. we hung out a ton he and I shared an apartment as room mates. It feels right, and honestly I was a little surprised how comfortable this all is. He gets me Adam, when I ran out of the wedding and I was in the car and started having a panic attack, he got me through it like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t bring it up or make me feel shitty about it. I think I’m in love with him.”

Jay was stepping out on the porch, with a blanket.

“I’m gonna head back in, I just wanted to check on you.” as page started to excuse himself. “ Hey Adam, don’t feel like you’ve got to go on my account. I need everyone to understand nothings changed she still needs you guys. Honestly I was bringing her a blanket the wind from the north kicks up and it can get cool quick. “ Jay handed me a blanket and a kiss on the top of the head and disappeared back inside.

“Who the fuck was that guy and what did you do with Jay ?” I just laughed , page took a seat on the wooden steps and looked out. The easy quiet. It’s always been easy to be quiet with him. He broke the silence as the sun started going down, “I’m happy for you. Kenny was out of line and you deserve what all the rest of us have a safe place that feels like home. Matt said he took care of you on the contracts, none of us want you to be obligated to be in a position that you need anyone but yourself.”“Thanks Adam”, he bent down as hugged me.

I followed him back inside realizing he was the last one leaving. As I walked him out Jay came out of the kitchen. “Everything okay? “ he said . “ Yeah, it’s what we do, we sit in silence, sometimes it’s a big conversation, sometimes it’s nothing.Its nice knowing someone is there.” I walked towards him his arms opened and pulled me in.

“So you’re in love me” he said softly, “ I am” I answered back.

I pull back and I’m trying to read his face, “”Are you okay ? I didn’t mean for you to hear that, I’m not trying to…”

“ Sweetheart , that was the best part of my day, I need you to know that. In answer to your question no I’m not okay, Kenny got under my skin again. He’s just a smug son of a bitch. “

I took his hand and led him to the couch I sat down, “ Sit down in front of me. I’m going to take care of you but go ahead and keep talking.” He sat down between my legs and faced the fire in the hearth. I began running my fingers through his hair massaging his scalp. “ He’s always been a dick, he was so mad when I wouldn’t join his club , he couldn’t stand that I wouldn’t bow to the great Kenny Omega. That I could do more outside of his shadow that I didn’t need his approval, I had Okadas. That’s when my game began to take what was his. Today when he started in on you that was it. “ I pull his hair a little bit just enough to break his tension, “That feels good. it’s been along time since someone took care of me. Sure there were women but they all wanted the character, not me. I got to the point I looked forward to the dinners you’d make in that tiny apartment, the way you’d stream terrible television, the way you’d watch AEW studying it, but also buying completely in. “ I move my hand to the back of his neck rubbing the knots out of his neck, he groaned, then continued “ I’ve been in love with you for years. Your selfless nature, your kind heart, the way you’d support and comfort all of us. I loved the way you put the jacket on me before I went out to the ring, the way you’d take care of me when I was injured . You’d listen to me rant, scream and breakdown.” He reached back and took my hands off his neck and turned around kneeling in front of me. “Marry Me, I mean will you marry me?”

I gasped at his words, my brain processing everything he said tears came down my face, “ Yes Jay I will.”

#aew fanfiction #switchblade jay white #jay white imagine #jay white x reader #jay white smut #jay white x you

18 notes · View notes

newtonsheffield · 2 years

Note

Can we please see a future take of Kate and Anthony when Anthony decides to go for his knee replacement in Offside?? I know he does it for Edmund and Kate but I can just imagine how stressful it is for their little family 🥺

Okay, I've danced around this for a long time, lets do this, our boy's going under the knife.

He'd known it was coming since his seventh season in the league, which maybe should've been startling news to get as a 26 year old, but it really wasn't a revolutionary concept; footballer's with bad knees were practically routine, so he'd made his peace with it. Until he'd met Kate, until he'd fallen in love with her and he'd sent her sister a message when Kate had stormed from the room when he'd said what they'd both known was coming.

Hey, kind of an odd question but I just maybe made a flippant comment about need a knee replacement when I retire and she flipped out?

Like, we were- I don't know kind of vibing and I thought she was into it and then she told me to fuck off.

Edwina had been typing for a long time, Anthony staring dumbly down at the chat window and when he'd seen her response his heart had stopped.

Never fucking talk about that around Kate again.

And she hadn't responded after that.

It had been a few weeks, After the drama, after all of it, the tiny puppy sitting on her lap, surely the biggest swing of his entire life, and he couldn't help himself.

"Kate can I ask you something?"

She'd looked up from her puppy, Newton she'd called him with the biggest smile on her face, the same smile she had now, and he hated to ruin it, but it had been gnawing at him,

"Oh we're definitely fucking tonight, you don't have to ask for that."

Anthony had chuckled, kissing her cheek, "That's great to hear, but I had something else in mind."

She didn't say anything, just stared back at him, head tilted curiously,

"so a few months ago, I brought up a knee replacement in a totally dickish way, and you reacted a little...strongly I guess."

Her reaction was immediate. The colour drained from her face, her body leaning back from him, her eyes terrified, "You might- you might not need one."

Her voice was thunderstruck, terrified he realised. Anthony's hand shooting out to cover hers, squeezing tightly, "Babe, we both know that's not true, I just... I don't understand and when you're ready I want to talk about it."

Silence echoed through the room for a very long time her fingers intertwining with his, a shuddering breath, "That's how my Dad died, he had a knee replacement, and he just... he never woke up. It's really rare but it happens, things go wrong, and clots form and people die."

Tears were running down her cheeks, Anthony's own heart aching for her, for his stupidity, and all he could do was hold her.

He'd known this was coming. He'd known it was, it was the reason he'd retired, turned to coaching, to focus on Edmund and Kate and everything they wanted. He'd tried to put it off, hobbling around the room when Kate wasn't watching, Edmund in his arms, strapped to his chest while he coached, but he knew that she knew, knew it wasn't a coincidence when she tugged tugged on his arm, kissing his cheek.

"Let me take some scans of you on my fancy new machines."

And he saw her face when she look at the Xrays, at the ultrasounds. Devastated for just a moment before she turned back to him, her professional mask back in place.

"Cool. very crisp pictures."

"And those very crisp pictures say what?"

"That you have knees." She'd turned way again, staring down at the picture of them on her desk, on their wedding day, when she'd looked so beautiful in blue and gold silk, his name hidden in henna and he'd thought he'd never breathe normally again, the silk of his own clothes tight against his chest.

"Kate, we don't lie to one another."

Silence had echoed through the room for a very long moment, his chest aching.

"I don't- I'd need an MRI to confirm, but if you were anyone else I'd say you need a knee replacement and an ACL repair in the other."

He knew it was coming but it hurt. Not for him, but for her, for the panic he could see in her eyes that she was fighting against.

"Kate-"

"I'm fine." He knew she wasn't, knew this would never be fine until he was through this.

"Okay, but maybe you could hug me, because I'm not fine."

And when she barrelled into him seconds later they both knew it was for her.

Anthony had know that Kate was a veritable force to be reckoned with from the very second they met. But he'd never seen her like this, tutting and sighing as other doctors, the best in the city, gave their opinions, ignoring their frustrated groans when she asked to see their plans before standing abruptly.

"Thank you, we'll be in touch."

And they never were.

"You are not seeing that fucking quack!" Kate had sighed, tossing yet another business card away, sighing.

"Kate, all of these doctors are amazing, they come so highly recommended I just-"

"Please Anthony." She'd said, her eyes brimming with tears, their six month old son clutched in her arms, "Please will you just meet my friend from school, he works up in Scotland, but he's the only person I trust, and I know it's the middle of the season, but I don't care, I don't fucking care. Please just meet with Michael."

And had it really ever been a question of him not wanting to do anything for her.

Michael Stirling had been the very opposite, of who he'd expected. Some gawky guy with a pocket protector and a severe side part from the way Kate had described him, like a brother, so much so that Anthony had had to squint at his name badge to make sure the right man had just sauntered into the office and swept his wife and baby into a hug.

"Katie Kat!" He'd boomed in a scottish brogue, His handsome face smiling brightly "You are the very last person from university I thought would end up as a a footballer's wife. I always thought it would be-"

"Cressida Cowper." They hummed together.

"Mickey, this is my husband-"

"Anthony Bridgerton!" he shook Anthony's hand enthusiastically, "Mate! Fuck it's a bit of an honour actually, um- my cousin John's kid is a huge fan do you think you could-?"

Anthony had nodded, taking note of how Kate had relaxed immediately, She trusted him, he realised, and that was enough for him. "Mate if you fix these fucking knees so I can run around after my boy I'll sign whatever you fucking want."

But still, the day of the surgery, Kate was a wreck. Tears brimming in her eyes every time she looked at him. The way she'd clung to him last night as their hips ground together, foreheads against one another

I love you so much Kate, So fucking much.

He sat with Edmund perched on his lap in the corner, Kate nervously flitting around them, Edwina watching cautiously from the corner.

Anthony knew this wasn't the end, it couldn't be, he had so much more that he wanted, so much of his life left to live, it just... This wouldn't be the end.

"Katie," He said as they wheeled him down the hall, Edmund still gurgling happily on his lap. "There's no fucking Way you're getting rid of me this easily. I am going to be clinging to you like a Koala for the rest of your life babe."

"I know." She said, but her voice sounded hollow.

Anthony cupped her cheek, forcing her to look down into his eyes, to feel the weight of his words. "I love you so much and nothing is going to stop me, I'll fight St Peter if I have to."

Kate chuckled, finally, finally, just before their lips met in a searing kiss, "That's sweet baby, but you're not going to Heaven. For that car you had when me met alone you're in the fire."

"Daddy loves you, Neddy." He said gently, handing him back to kate with a kiss on the top of his head.

"Don't worry, Kat, I'll look after your sugar daddy!" Michael called, wheeling Anthony away,

And the last thing he thought of has his eyelids fluttered closed was Kate.

Of course, he might not have died, but there was an entirely different set of consequences to his surgery when a month later Kate swept into their bedroom, Anthony laying with nine month old Edmund on his stomach grinning happily at his son.

"There's Mummy, Neddy! Doesn't she look beautiful today!"

"Anthony, do you remember when you had your surgery, and you were looking at me with those big sad eyes? And I thought you'd die, and we had that really good, really emotional fuck?"

"Kate!" Anthony clapped his hands over Edmund's ears in surprise.

Kate rolled her eyes, "Babies can't remember anything from this time."

"Maybe normal babies, but our son his the most handsome, brilliant, talented boy in the whole world." Anthony said, sitting up with a grin, Edmund's tiny hand catching a fist full of his hair.

Kate was leaning against the doorframe, her eyebrow raised, armed crossed, "Well I'm glad you're so enamoured with him, because there'll be another one in about eight months."

this got so long

#offside au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #molly's asks and answers

92 notes · View notes

mysoftboybensolo · 3 years

Text

The Princess and the Miller

A/N: In honor of @monsieurbruhl reaching 1,000 followers as well because I can’t stop thinking about her post, I decided to make a Tonda one-shot. It deviates a little from the original post, but I hope you all still like it. BTW I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, but after reading up on it, I am going to go with an alternate version of this world. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Tonda x Fem!Reader. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluffy Smut, Happy Ending.

You had always been told that when you turned 21, you’d marry a prince. It was a marriage arranged since your infancy, you hadn’t met your betrothed and yet you were in a carriage on your way to his kingdom to marry him. You tried your best to find the best in the situation, tried to get some semblance of an idea of who the man you’d soon call husband, but all you got were very generic answers. He’s speaks several languages, plays many instruments, charming, handsome. But no one told you whether he was kind, generous, or good. Your eyes fell on the greenery whirling past your carriage as you felt your nerves grow.

Silently, you prayed that the prince you’d soon be married to would be kind, that you could learn to love the man and try to have a happy life. Your prayers quickly stopped as suddenly, the carriage had rocked and jumped wildly and then before you knew it, the carriage tipped over and things went black. A pounding in your head was the first thing you clearly knew before your eyes managed to open and focus enough to see the destruction before you. The coachman that was riding with you was trapped beneath the carriage and you could hear the soft whimpering of pain. You stand, though your leg was in great pain, and despite your own weaken state, you tried to help by pushing against the carriage, but to no avail. You looked around and noticed smoke in the sky. Someone lived by, they will help.

Running towards the direction, you press on, despite your own body aching, your head swimming with light headedness, because you had to help. Tired, but you managed to reach a mill, and saw a figure whose back was turned from you. “Excuse me,” your voice low and hoarse. The figure doesn’t hear at first and continues with his work, so you move forward, your body leaning against a pile of wood, which you knock down on accident.

The figure whipped his head around and at first seemed ready to fight but seeing you, blood dripping from your head, your weaken state, made him soften. “Please help,” you manage before passing out.

The next thing you knew, you wake up in a bed, your head bandaged, your leg in a splint and the pain subsided a bit and everything started to slowly come back to you. You try to get up from bed only to be hushed and pushed back gently. “No, don’t get up.”

It’s then do you take a look at your rescuer. He was older than you, can’t be no more than ten years older, but his wavy brown hair which he tied back, to his warm brown eyes and friendly smile made him seem boyish. “The coachman,” you say suddenly, “My carriage had crashed, he needs help,” you say, trying once again to get up.

“Alright,” he says, once again gently, pushing you back down, “I’ll go and see. In which direction did you come from?” You tell him to the best of your knowledge, but your head hurts so much, and you feel as if you want to cry. He offers you a small wooden bowl and brings it to your lips. “Drink. It’ll help with the pain.”

You do as your told, what else did you have to lose? Once he makes sure you drank all of it, he settles you back down and goes to find the carriage. Laying there, you wait and the pain in your head fades, allowing you the chance to wonder what will happen now; will your betrothed start to get worried if you are not there by tomorrow and have a search party sent for you? Will your father when he doesn’t receive word from you? Quite a bit of time goes by before you realize that the man returns, and his face is grave.

“I am sorry miss, but the coachman is dead. He died before I found the carriage.” His brown eyes grow tender with remorse and silently offers sympathy.

You cry, not only because the coachman was a good man you knew growing up, but because you felt completely and utterly alone. How you wished you were home now, wished you never left to be engaged, wished you were with your family now. The man does not say anything to you for a long time, leaves the cottage with a shovel in hand, and you knew what he was going to do. His absence allows you time to grieve, time to accept the situation, and when he returns, he still gives you space, waiting for you to speak first. He tells you he had buried the coachman, but you don’t feel like you could respond without crying, so you remain silent. When you do speak first, it is late in the night before he decides to retire to sleep.

“What is your name?”

“Tonda.”

“Thank you, Tonda.”

Crying yourself to sleep, you wake and it takes you some time to realize where you are but are quickly comforted by the sight of those same soft brown eyes, sitting by the fire, stirring the pot. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, I suppose.” He gets up to bring you some porridge, gesturing for you to eat. “Where am I?”

“In my mill, just on the outskirts of Schwarzkollm, a small village, simple, but good. Where were you heading off to, maybe I know a way to get there.” You thought to not tell him the whole truth, withhold your being a princess, but looking into his eyes, you feel as if you can utterly trust him with anything. So, you explain that you were on your way to be married, that your betrothed was expecting you any day and must be worried. He took your being a princess well and instead of acting like everyone else who fell to their knees and dare not look at you, he continued to look at you, like you were an actual human being, not a symbol as your father once described you. “I know the kingdom, it’s a half a day’s ride from here. I’ll take you there as soon as I am sure you are feeling better.”

“Oh, thank you, Tonda! Thank you!” You clasp his hands into yours, a gesture of gratefulness, but somehow the touch made your cheeks grow warm. Perhaps it was because you realized that this was the first time you had been alone with a man that was not your father, perhaps it was because of how close both of your bodies were, or perhaps it was the look in Tonda’s eyes that made your stomach flutter like a million butterflies.

Word quickly spread that Tonda had a visitor in his mill, a young and pretty woman at it too, and people came to know the story, though you asked Tonda to not revel your true identity. Tonda was polite and kind enough to try to hold many of them back, certain it would overwhelm you, especially from the trauma you suffered the day before. But a few older women get by, offering food, clothing, and remedies to help you feel better, and you thank them graciously, knowing they mean well. You become grateful to be alone once again with Tonda, so you could have some peace.

He is gentle when he checks your bandages, cleans the wounds, and reapplies fresh wrappings. “You have only a small cut on your forehead, that’ll heal soon, but your ankle looks very bad,” he observes and you have to agree with him, what with it’s dark purple bruises and deep cuts that even grazing it caused great pains. “Stay off it for as long as you can; the longer you stay still, the quicker it’ll heal.”

You stay in bed, applying ointments and herbs that Tonda and the older women bring to you, while Tonda does his chores as well as trying to care for you. Feeling guilty, you offer to do little things to help, such as peel potatoes and mend clothes, little things you didn’t think mattered, but did mean so much to Tonda.

You wondered how you’d pay him back, especially since he was good enough to grab your trunk from the wreck and brought it to the mill. It wasn’t the clothes or the trinkets you cared about, but your books. Your father took great care to have you educated, to read and write, know your math and history. One day, Tonda noticed you reading and asked about it. “Oh it’s one of my favorites, but then again, I am partial to love stories. I’m almost done with it, you can read it after if you like.”

His cheeks grew red. “Oh, that’s kind of you, but-”

“But what?”

He looks down then admits, “I can’t read.”

You look at him surprised, such a capable and bright man stood before you, and he didn’t know how to read! “Well, how about this? As a way to repay you, I can teach you to read and write in the evenings, and whatever else you’d like to learn. What do you say?”

At first, Tonda tried to refuse, saying that there was no need to repay him, but after arguing that it would be good for him when he does business in the village, he at last accepts. And so went your life for the next month. During the day, Tonda worked on the mill while you tried your best to help in bed, then in the evenings, you taught Tonda how to read and write. He was a quick learner and so proud of himself that you couldn’t help but to be proud as well.

In the time between, you both came to understand each other. Tonda proved to be a kind, gentle soul who loved animals and children, with a quick wit and a wonderful sense of humor. His father taught him to fight, which you were grateful to hear that he had little cause to use his skills, his mother taught him how to cook, which is why you were always asking for second helpings of his food. He told you how he was orphaned when he was quite young, and had lived on his own since, how while there were times he didn’t mind the peaceful quiet, he struggled with the solitude.

You told him how you understood what he meant, often feeling all alone in the big castle, how your being a middle child and not a boy, your worth was measured in how good of a wife you could one day be. You tell him of your apprehensions of your upcoming marriage, how small and insignificant you feel in this world, especially since there had not been any word on anyone trying to find you.

“No one is insignificant. We all have a reason, a purpose. Even a blade of grass has a purpose, for that blade of grass may very well be shelter to an ant, the nourishment an animal needs to live. You have your purpose, you may not yet know it now, but you will. You’ll mean something great to someone, and they’ll find they can’t live without you.”

Your heart thumps harshly against your chest, the look in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice all touched you so deeply, that you almost forgot to breathe. He turns away from you, looking as if he spoke something he shouldn’t.

The next day, you try to walk. The bruises have gone and the cuts have turned to faint scars, but it is still a little sore. Tonda stands by your side as you attempt to walk and with each attempt, you get further and further. While the sight of you getting better should have been a moment to celebrate, neither of you say the words, but both remember his promise. “I don’t think I am quite healed yet,” you speak before he does, “I think we ought to wait until I am able to walk completely, perhaps another week, just to be sure.” You are grateful when Tonda happily agrees and lets you remain with him.

A week turns to two, and those two turns to four. You learn from him how to work the mill, helping him more and more, going into the village with him, meeting the people properly. You don’t hear the whispers of the villagers, certain that you and Tonda were courting, but it’s perhaps better that you didn’t it would only make things complicated. And still, two months and no word, no sign of either kingdoms looking for you.

Eventually, you dare ask Tonda to take you to your betrothed kingdom. You just have to know what happened, why no one came for you, to let them know you were safe. A flash of pain shoot across his eyes, but being the honorable man he was, he hitched his horse and the two of you rode on. When you did reach the kingdom, you were surprised to see celebrating going on, ribbons everywhere, flower petals falling from the sky, cheers from the crowd.

“Excuse me, what is happening?” Tonda asked a passing villager.

“The prince is married!” said the villager, running off towards the castle.

You and Tonda stare at each other bewildered. Trumpets sound and you see, standing on the balcony is the prince you were to marry, and beside him, your sister, as his bride. The sight is like a stab in the heart, not because you had wanted to marry the prince, but because you knew the truth now. No one came for you because in their eyes, you were dispensable, if not you, another will easily take your place.

The realization made you break down, sobbing as Tonda took you away, carried you even as you were so overcome with despair. He helps you back on the horse and together, he brings you back to his mill. The entire ride, you are sobbing into his back, holding on to him for dear life, your heart utterly broken. It’s dusk when you return to the mill, and ever the gentleman, Tonda helps you down from the horse and escorts you back in, making a fire when he sees you shiver. “I am so sorry, my princess,” he says at last softly, “They do not deserve you if they think you can be easily replaced like that.”

“I’m just,” you say low and brokenly, as you sit in the closest chair, “Not the blade of grass they needed it seems.”

He quickly kneels before you, taking your hands into his and makes you look into his eyes. “You are more than a blade of grass; you are the sky, the earth and the oceans. You are everything that makes life worth living for, and that prince and your father are fools to not realize that. You mean something great to me, always.”

You stare deep into his soft brown eyes and it hits you. Tonda, the man who rescued you, who cared for you, listened and taught you, you were in love with him. Yes, it was clear now, and the revelation helped to ease the heartbreak. Taking his face into your hands, you reached forward and kissed him. It was gentle at first, beautiful, something you had always read about in the romance stories and it made you both gasp when you parted.

You don’t know who prompted it, you feel as if it was you, but you can't be certain, but what you do know is that Tonda carried you to the bed, clothes stripped from the both of you and for the first time for either for you, you laid down together and carefully learned together these first throes of passion and love. His coarse hands were gentle on your skin, his lips everywhere as if he couldn’t dare part with you, his movements gentle and slow, not wanting to rush this breathtaking moment. He sighs and moans at the feeling of your soft hands running down the planes of his back, combing through his long wavy hair, the soft whimpering of your voice in his ear.

“I love you,” his speaks desperately, lovingly, hopelessly, “I love you, love you, always.”

Hours later and you stare into the small fire as it slowly diminishes and Tonda curled behind you, sleeping. Today was a whirlwind of emotions, and yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to feel guilty for how it ended. It stung to think your own father didn’t care, that to the world you were dead. In his sleep, Tonda pulled you closer and nuzzled himself closer to you, making you smile.

Well, you think, perhaps it’s better that the world thinks me dead, to earn this second chance to truly live. And live you did with your sweet miller, happily ever after, in fact.

Tagging those who I think would be interested: @monsieurbruhl, @creme-bruhlee, @bruehl, @neonheart1244, @justfangirlthingies, @git-it-got-it-good, @daniel-bruhhl, @cazzyimagines

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction #tonda #krabat

114 notes · View notes

artzychic27 · 3 years

Note

Artist Family 1991 movie?

All is more sullen than usual for the Artists. It’s the third anniversary of Rose’s disappearance

Juleka: *Solemnly staring at Rose’s empty room* Think of it That. For years we’ve attempted to contact Rose in the Great Beyond. And for years… Nothing.

Ever since Rose’s disappearance, Juleka has been looking through her spell books for other ways to contact her, but just can seem to find anything

For Marinette, she tries to cope the only way she knows how… Through torture.

Alix: *Tied up: Screaming through her binds*

Marinette: *Aiming an arrow at Alix* Don’t be a baby. I know what I’m doing.

Marc is more unhappy than usual… And it gets Nathaniel in the mood.

Nathaniel: *Watching Marc sleep* Look at him. I would die for him. I would kill for him… Either way, what bliss. *Marc wakes up* Unhappy, darling?

Marc: Oh, yes. Yes, completely. Nathan... The sun. Me atraviesa como un puñal.

Nathaniel: Oh, monochrome. That's Spanish.

Marc: Si.

Nathaniel: *Grabs a bucket of black paint and splatters it all over the window*

Marc: Mi amor... Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me… Do it again.

Also, their neighbor, a well-respected judge, hates them because Marinette can’t keep her flaming arrows on the Artists’ property. Why does this matter? You’ll soon see.

Nathaniel: *Playing chess with Juleka while Marc snips the buds off of roses* It’s a milestone, Marc. It’ll be our third séance. All those years, gnawed by guilt, undone by woe, burning with uncertainty.

Marc: Nathaniel, don’t torture yourself… That’s my job around here. But, imagine if Rose did return. Half alive, barley human, a rotting shell.

Juleka: *Sighs* That’d be a sight.

Unbeknownst to everyone (Except Félix), Juleka has a crush on Rose.

Later, the Artists’ lawyer, Cecil and his wife Bridgette arrive to ask for a loan. (Wow. Asking for a loan from teenagers? Yeesh.) Why? Because they owe a loan shark.

Bridgette: Why did I marry you?

Cecil: Because I said yes!

While Cecil tries to work out a deal with Nathaniel, Bridgette collects expensive looking items for a charity auction from Juleka, Marc, and Félix

Marc: *As Félix pulls body bags out of a closet* Uncle Niknak's winter wardrobe. Uncle Niknak's summer wardrobe… Uncle Niknak.

Nathaniel: ‘The Rose Artist Off-Shore Retirement Fund’?… A tribute to thee. Some called her inhumanly evil.

Cecil: No!

Nathaniel: Only her parents before she fled her home.

And they make a deal… But…

Nathaniel: It’s going to have to wait, you know the rules better than that. Old business is old business and new business is new business. And this is new business and we do not discuss new business until… The next quarter.

After an unsuccessful attempt at stabbing Nathaniel with one of the many swords in the house, Cecil gives up until Nathaniel mentions going to get money for the monthly expenses from the vault

Meanwhile, Marc shows Bridgette a golden finger trap from the court of Emperor Wu

Bridgette: *Trying to not pocket it and run off* Oh, Marc, this is too extravagant, even for the auction.

Juleka: Let’s keep it.

Marc: Juleka, it’s for charity. *Bridgette gets her fingers trapped* Widows and orphans. We need more of them… Bridgette, about the séance tonight, why don’t you come? It's Nathaniel I'm terribly worried about. He won't eat, he can't sleep, he keeps coughing up blood.

Bridgette: He coughs up blood?

Marc: Well, not like he used to...

Cecil returns to his office with a suitcase full of doubloons from the Artists’ account, no knowledge of how to get the vault open, and in his office is Ms. Craven, a loan shark and her familiar-looking daughter, Willow

After some intimidation from Willow, Cecil gets an idea of how to repay Ms. Craven the money he owes her when he sees how similar she looks to Rose

There’s thunder and lightning on the night of the séance. Perfect weather

Marc: Marinette, Alix, put down that antenna, and come inside.

With their plan in place, Cecil and Bridgette arrive

Bridgette: *Shows Marinette the finger trap still on her fingers* Could you help me? *Marinette removes it with ease*

Marinette: Push, do not pull.

Marc: *With everyone seated around the table for the séance* Harken all souls. Every year on this date, we offer a clarion call to Rose Artist… Alix, drop the cleaver.

Marinette: *Sees Alix aiming the cleaver at her* Stop it.

Marc: From generation to generation, our beacon to the beyond. All close eyes and join hands.

After a practical joke on Bridgette involving That, the séance continues.

Marinette: Let us ransom you from the power of the grave. Tonight, oh Death, let us be your plague.

Juleka: Rose Artist, ceoli couris, ferimani bo… She’s near. *Félix plays a dramatic sting on his organ* Rose! Gather your strength! And knock three times! *One knock… Two… Three*

Nathaniel: She’s at the door!

That quickly goes to unlock the front door. And there, much to the Artists’ disbelief and joy is Rose… Or so they think. And there with her is Ms. Craven, posing as a psychiatrist named Dr. Schloss

Ms. Craven makes up some story about how “Rose” was found in Miami, tangled up in a tuna net. There were psychological tests, and a bunch of crap.

Nathaniel: And now she’s back.

Rose: At least for a week. I’ve got things to do back at the Bermuda Triangle.

Marc: *Sighs* Oh, the Bermuda Triangle./ Nathaniel: The Devil’s Island./ Marc: The Black Hole of Calcutta

Nathaniel: Pardon me for a moment. *Kisses up and down Marc’s arm* Our fifth date.

Marinette: No one escapes the Bermuda Triangle. Not even for a vacation. Everyone knows that.

Any attempts Willow tries at getting a good night’s sleep, it doesn’t work because The floors are constantly creaking, Marinette and Alix keep staring at her from down the hall, and That keep sneaking up on her which causes her to scream.

Nathaniel: … My dear friend. I’ve got goosebumps./ Marc: I know./ Nathaniel: Screams in the night. It can only mean one thing./ Marc: She’s home.

The next morning, Marinette and Alix suspect something is up with “Rose”. Meanwhile, Nathaniel takes “Rose” to the vault

Alix: *As Marinette warms up the electric chair* Do you think that’s really Rose?

Marinette: Nathaniel and Juleka seem to think so. But I think Marc isn’t sure. Now let’s a play a game. Sit in the chair.

Alix: What game?

Marinette: ‘Want to meet God?’

And Nathaniel does take Rose down to the vault, via gondola in the catacombs of the Artist home, only this vault leads to a secret room… That also leads to the money vault when a certain vial of poison is lifted

During that time, while they’re down there, Nathaniel reveals to “Rose” that his jealousy over her catching the attention of conjoined twins Ali and Eli drove her off

~Meanwhile~ Alix: So, if that’s not Rose, then who is she?

Marinette: An imposter. Now give the chair a few more seconds to warm up./ Alix: Why?/ Marinette: So it Can kill you./ Alix: I knew that.

~Later at the charity auction ~

Auctioneer: *Presenting the finger trap on Bridgette’s fingers again* This piece is encrusted with rubies and 15 emerald chips. It was donated by Marc and Nathaniel Artist. Remember, over half our proceeds will benefit the elderly and the mentally disabled. The bidding starts at $5000.

Nathaniel: Five, hah! Not good enough. $25,000!

Auctioneer: I have twenty.

Nathaniel: Twenty-five! *To Marc* Meyn Ziskeyt?

Auctioneer: Twenty five.

Marc: Thirty. *To Nathaniel* My howling demon.

Nathaniel: *voice cracks* Thirty-five!

Marc: Fifty!

Auctioneer: I have $50,000.

Marc: Your turn, my ecstasy.

Auctioneer: Fifty thousand going once, fifty thousand going twice. Sold to Marc Artists for fifty thousand dollars. *looks disgusted as Marc and Nathaniel obscenely make out*

They bought it back as a gift for “Rose”, but… She doesn’t know how to take it off! The Artists are now starting believe that she really is an imposter

Marc attempts to break “Rose” and get her to confess by taking her to the Artists’ cemetery where he reminds her of the credo

Marc: "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc." "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us." Not just pretty words… Rose. As an Artist, you understand completely.

“Rose”: … As an Artist, I do.

Seeing that everyone’s onto her, Willow calls Ms. Craven and has her pose as the psychiatrist to try and make the Artists none the wiser

Marc: Nathaniel, Juleka, why don’t you speak to Rose? She’s right outside the door.

Juleka: We would… If that were the real Rose.

Nathaniel: She’s an imposter! A charlatan! A sham! A counterfeit!

While wandering around the home, Rose sees Marinette and Alix sword fighting and practicing lines for something.

Ms. Craven successfully convinces the Artists that their reason for suspecting “Rose” is an imposter is due to displacement, and meanwhile, Rose helps Marinette and Alix out with their sword fighting scene for a play they’re in at school. A play she’s not allowed to attend but goes to anyway

Just a few minutes before the play, Mme. Bustier, asks Marc a question about Marinette.

Mme. Bustier: Now, the students did projects on their heroes. Alya Cesaire chose Lois Lane.

Marc: Have you spoken to her parents?

Mme. Bustier: And Marinette did her project on someone named Calpurnia Dupain.

Marc: Oh, her great aunt on her father’s side. She was burned as a witch in 1706. They say she danced naked in town square and enslaved a minister. *Unaware of Mme. Bustier’s horror.* Don’t worry, we told her university first.

And after so many horrible performances, comes the best one yet… Where Marinette and Alix splatter fake blood all over the audience.

Nino: … I suggested a evening in the park, but no. You wanted to see the performances.

Alya: *Spits out fake blood* Shut up.

Furious that her plans to get into the vault have failed since “Rose” decided to go to the play, Ms. Craven insists that “Rose” must leave again… But not before the Artists mark the occasion with a going away party where the entire Artist clan is invited.

Marc: *To Marinette who is dancing with Luka* Marinette, would you go check on Rose upstairs, please?

Marinette leaves (Not before kissing Luka) and overhears Willow and Ms. Craven going over their plan to break into the vault. She quickly runs to go get help.

Meanwhile, Cecil figures out a way to get rid of the Artists for good. And here’s where the judge comes in- He gets a restraining order agasint them so they can’t set foot on their property

After the party, the Artist family tries to find Marinette when they realize that she’s gone missing. But when they return with her, they find that they can’t get inside their own home. And when they attempt to appeal to the judge, he sends them away out of spite.

The Artists are now living in a motel. Nathaniel is in a state of depression knowing they’ve been betrayed, and Marc is just trying to keep Juleka, Marinette, and Alix from going crazy… Er.

Also, he gets a job as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant. Let’s see how that turns out.

Marc: And so the witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the candy house by promising them more sweets. And she told them to look in the oven. But, before she herself could push the children inside, Hansel pushed her, that poor defenseless elderly witch into the oven instead and burned her to a crisp as she writhed in agony… Now children. How do you think that feels? *The children cry* … Exactly.

That gets a job as a courier, and Marinette, Juleka, and Alix sell poison macarons.

Not able to stand the sight of his family in such a state, Marc returns to the Artists home to confront “Rose” only to be captured by Ms. Craven and Cecil. And unknown to Marc, That followed him.

Craven, Cecil, and Willow torture Marc so he can tell them how to access the vault means of torture, but he’s a total masochist and is loving every second of it

That returns to the motel and- through Morse code- tells the Artists that Marc’s been captured

Nathaniel: Mar... Marc... Marc? Marc is what? Slow down, That! It's terrible when you stutter!

*That starts tapping in Morse Code with a pen*

Nathaniel: Marc... in... danger... stop. Send... help... at once... STOP! *He runs out. That collapses*

Nathaniel arrives just before they can try and kill Marc, and engages in a sword fight with Cecil, which he gains the upper hand on, then loses when Ms. Craven has Marc at gun point. She forces him to show Willow the vault or she shoots Marc if they’re not back in an hour

Before Nathaniel can pull out the book that activates the secret door on the shelf, Willow pulls out a different book- A spellbook that projects It’s contents into reality and creates a storm. A bolt of lightning strikes Willow and launches Cecil and Craven out the window and into graves dug by Marinette, Alix, and Juleka

Alix: Are they dead?

Marinette: Does it matter?

Months later on Halloween, it’s revealed that Willow has been Rose all this time, and the story about the tuna net and the Bermuda Triangle were true. She just suffered from amnesia

Bridgette: *To Marinette* Dear, where’s your costume.

Marinette: This is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac; they look just like everyone else.

While the others play a good game of ‘Wake The Dead’ Marc and Nathaniel stay behind because Marc has something to tell him.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, what is it?

Marc: I finally received a letter from my mothers, and… *Shows him an ultrasound photo* They said if it’s anything like me, they want us to have it.

Sequel

#miraculous ladybug #marc x nathaniel #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #marinette dupain cheng #alix kubdel #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #félix graham de vanily #the addams family #addams family au #the artist family

46 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Day-to-Day

Emily is the glue that holds the family together, aka five times the Hotchner family needed Emily.

A story in the “5 times + 1″ format.

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

Chapter 1 - Amelia.

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

March 2010

Aaron wakes to his bed being empty. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the last remnants of sleep, and he turns to check the alarm clock, groaning when he sees it’s 3am. He touches the other side of the bed and feels that the sheets are cold, indicating that his wife had been gone for some time. Amelia had been off the evening before, their usually happy baby grouchy and sleepy. Which was always the first sign that she was coming down with something. Theo had been ill the week before, a bug he’d picked up from school, and Aaron had naively hoped they’d managed to avoid it being passed on to the youngest Hotchner.

He sits on the side of the bed and spots light filtering out from under the ensuite door. He walks over, opening the door to find his wife laying back in the bath, Amelia dozing on her chest. Emily looks tired, a small smile on her face when she spots him. “Hey.” She rasps out, staying quiet so she doesn't wake their daughter.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Aaron walks in and kneels on the floor next to the bath. “Everything ok?”

“She woke up about an hour ago, she had a fever. I thought a lukewarm bath might bring it down, but she started to cry every time I tried to put her in here herself.” Emily says gently, placing a hand on Amelia’s forehead. “It’s come down a bit.”

“You should have woken me up.” He says, placing a hand on their daughter's back. “I’d have helped.”

“It’s ok, honey.” She says placing her hand over his. “You need your sleep, work has been rough on you lately.”

“Right.” He says, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your job is a piece of cake.” Aaron links their fingers and runs a thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Em. I’m here now. We’re all here.”

She purses her lips together and nods at him. It was still her instinct sometimes to try and do it all by herself, especially anything to do with the kids. Memories of those months spent alone waiting for Foyet to be stopped were sharp, and sometimes it still took her breath away. How close they had come to losing everything.

“Can you take her?” She asks softly. “She should be fine for now.”

“Of course.” He lifts the toddler off of his wife's chest and wraps her in a towel. Amelia wakes almost immediately, grumbling at being removed from her mother. “Let’s go get you dressed sweetie.”

He takes Amelia to the nursery and puts a fresh diaper on her, and a thin sleepsuit. He frowns at the warmth still on her skin, and soothes her when she starts to cry again. “I know what you want, you want Mommy.” He lifts Amelia into his arms and kisses her forehead. “I don’t blame you, I always want her when I feel sick too.”

Emily is already in bed dressed in one of his shirts when he walks back into their bedroom. Amelia immediately reaches out for Emily, the little girl's face already scrunched up as she cries. He passes Amelia over, lets his wife take him into her arms. “Mama.”

“You’re ok, sweet girl.” Emily says, running a hand over the back of her daughter’s head. She kisses her forehead and frowns. “It’s gone down, but she’s still warm.”

“We’ll call the doctor if she’s still got a temperature in the morning.” He says. Emily nods, settling Amelia so she is resting against her chest. The little girl's favorite place to sleep when she was sick or sad. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to get any sleep if she’s in here.”

“I know.” She replies, soothing the small coughs coming out of Amelia by rubbing her back. “I’ll get someone to drop some case files and paperwork here tomorrow, work from here until she’s better.”

“And if you get a case?”

She glares at him. “Then I’m sure the team can handle it without me. It’s not like they haven’t before.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m not leaving her if she’s sick, Aaron.” She says, her voice firm. “She only settles for me if she’s sick and I’m not putting either of you through that.”

He knew his wife somehow felt responsible for his delicate relationship with his daughter. Things were better now, so much better, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when Ameila, or any of their kids, immediately reached for Emily when something was wrong. The six months they had spent alone together had formed a bond he loved, but that he was also, in his worst moments, jealous of.

He wants to argue, wants to say that eventually something would happen with one of the kids when she wasn’t there, but he knows this isn’t the time. That it can wait until it isn’t almost 4am and she has their feverish daughter pressed against her.

“It’s a good thing your boss is so understanding.”

Emily smiles at him. “Well, I do repay his understanding with blow jobs so I think it’s earned.” _________________

May 2024

Ameila was Emily through and through. It was something Aaron, and just about everyone they knew, said frequently. She looked like Emily. She had her nose, her dark eyes and hair, and the same smile that had always been able to convince Aaron to do just about anything. Amelia had inherited her fathers jawline and his seriousness, her frown, a pure ‘Hotch’ look that Penelope had often joked would serve her well in whatever she decided to do in the future.

She also had Emily’s attitude. A need to know everything, to push all the boundaries around her, that often drove Aaron to the edge of his sanity in a way neither of his sons ever had. Elizabeth often commented on how similar Amelia and Emily were, and he never missed the way she smirked at him when she said it.

Emily was fiercely protective of Amelia. Aaron knew it was because their daughter was the only one of their kids who didn’t remember the incident with Foyet. She was so small when it happened, only a few months old when her family was torn apart by the actions of a psychopath, and they were grateful for it. Jack and Theo still bore the scars of what happened, years of therapy had done them wonders, but it still surfaced at times, almost unexpectedly. Leading to Theo calling in the middle of the night, the now 21 year old plagued by nightmares that his mother was dead, only calmed down by the sound of her tired voice over the phone.

The first time Amelia really pushes the boundaries with her parents is when she comes home one day with her nose pierced. The ring in her nose was massive, big enough to allow for the swelling that would follow, drawing her parents attention to it immediately.

“What the hell is that in your nose?” Aaron asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“It’s a nose ring, Dad.” Amelia answers, her eyes rolling as she hangs her keys up. “I got it done after school.”

“And who said you could do that?”

“It’s my nose. I didn’t realise I needed permission.”

“Ok.” Emily interrupts, placing a hand on her husband's arm to try and diffuse the situation. “I think what your dad is trying to say is that you should run this stuff past us, ok?”

Amelia scoffs. “Well it’s your nose I inherited, surely you understand why I wanted to do something to it.” She walks past her parents and goes up the stairs before the conversation can go any further. “I have homework.”

_________________

Aaron walks into their en-suite later that night to find Emily standing in front of the mirror scrutinising her appearance. He leant against the doorframe and watched as she turned her head side to side, running her finger down the slope of her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at herself straight on again, her finger pressed into the tip.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, taking her hand away from her nose as she does. He doesn’t miss the shy look on her face as she wrung her hands together. “Do you think my nose is weird?”

He frowns at her. “What? No.”

“I know it’s ridiculous. I’m 53 for fuck sake.” She mutters to herself.

He kisses the tip of her nose and she smiles at him. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.” She wraps her arms around him anyway, pulling him in for a kiss. “It will look better when she can switch to a smaller ring.”

“It will look better when she just takes it out.”

Emily laughs, shaking her head at him. “Come on, let's go to bed. Some of us have work in the morning.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as he always did when she referred to his early retirement, even though it had been years since he left the FBI. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

_________________

The casual mention of a boyfriend, a boy from Amelia’s art class called Chase, almost sends Aaron orbital. He manages to keep his opinions to himself until Amelia has gone to bed and he’s just in the kitchen with his wife, helping her with the dishes even though it was long ago established as her chore since she never cooked.

“She’s not that bad, Aaron.”

He scoffs at his wife. “She’s going to make me go grey.”

“Honey. Amelia is a teenage girl. A pretty well behaved one in comparison to what I was like.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for Elizabeth than I ever have before.” He mutters as he continues to put dishes away.

“What was that?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes at him as she passes him another plate, patting his cheek with her spare hand. “You’re already grey, Aaron. It’s got nothing to do with the fact our daughter has a boyfriend. Or a nose ring.” _________________

Emily finally loses her cool two weeks later. They are eating dinner, just her, Amelia and Aaron, when she spots something on her daughter's wrist as she reaches for more salad. Emily grabs Amelia’s arm and pulls her sleeve back slightly to reveal a, admittedly very small, heart tattoo onto her daughter’s wrist. It was crude, slightly wonky and clearly not a professional one.

“What the hell is this?” She asks, staring her daughter down.

Amelia tears her arm out of her mother’s grasp and pulls her sleeve back down. “It’s a tattoo, Mom.”

“A tattoo? When did that happen?” Emily looks over at Aaron, who to her annoyance looked slightly amused that she was finally reacting like he had been all along.

“We did them at school.” Amelia answers, taking another bite of her dinner.

Emily’s initial reaction of telling her daughter how dangerous that was, how stupid, was drowned out by her overriding fear of who exactly had done this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Chase and I did them. We have matching ones.” Amelia says, looking at her mother with a challenge on her face. “I don’t see what the big deal is Mom, you have tattoos.”

Emily glares at her husband when he chokes out a laugh at that, and he quickly excuses himself from the table. She turns back to her daughter. “Amelia, it really wasn’t very safe to do that. You have to let professionals do this kind of thing.”

Amelia rolls her eyes as she takes the final bite of her dinner. “Whatever.” She gets up from the table, already half out of the dining room before she speaks again. “I need to go FaceTime Chase.”

Emily puts her head in her hands as soon as she is alone. Her daughter was too much like her for her own good, independent and wilful almost to a fault. Emily loved that Amelia was like that, that she was so sure of herself in a way that Emily certainly hadn’t been at her age. She took it as a testament to her and Aaron’s parenting, but right now she was struggling with it. She just wanted to sit Amelia down and tell her that not everyone in the world had her best intentions at heart, and Emily had an increasingly sinking feeling that Chase was one of those people.

She blows out a breath and stands up, starting to collect the dishes from the evening meal. Emily hears her husband re-enter the room. “I’m going to get her some antiseptic cream to put on it. Who the hell knows where they got the needle they did it with from.”

“Emily-”

“She gave herself a matching tattoo with her boyfriend, Aaron.” She says, putting the dishes she had been holding back down on the dining room table. “They’ve been together for 8 weeks.”

He steps towards her and places his hands on her hips. “What was it you told me last week? That it will work itself out eventually.”

“She thinks she loves him, honey.” Emily lamented, allowing her husband to pull her into his arms. “And I know he’s going to break her heart.”

Aaron kisses her. “Sweetheart, we can’t protect her from that.” He kisses her again, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All we can do is be here for her if it happens.”

Emily rests her forehead on his chest. “Now who's being annoying ok about all of this?”

_________________

“This is where I found out I was pregnant with you.” Emily says offhandedly, a wistful smile on her face. It was so long ago now, but she still remembered the joy she had felt when she first saw Amelia on screen. The baby she had always been told she couldn’t have was now this amazing person she couldn’t imagine her life without.

Emily looks at her daughter when she doesn’t get a response, and she stops herself from laughing when she sees how pointedly Amelia is ignoring her. “Oh really, Mom?” She says to herself. “That’s so interesting.”

“Mom, I cannot believe you are doing this.” Amelia seethes, looking at the floor of the clinic they were in. Embarrassment coming off of her in waves. “This is so embarrassing.”

Emily rolls her eyes, and bites back a comment about how if she found birth control embarrassing then she should think twice about having sex. “I just want you to be safe, ok? You’ve got a boyfriend now and whilst I am not exactly delighted at the idea of you having sex.” She says, not missing how her daughter grimaces. “I don’t want you to take any chances.”

“Amelia Hotchner?”

Emily and Amelia look up to see Joanne standing at the door to her office looking expectantly at them. Emily smiles at her, Amelia does not, and the latter sighs as she stands up. She takes a few steps towards Joanne, only pausing when she realises her mother isn’t following her.

“Well you may as well come in. This was your idea after all.” Amelia says, annoyance colouring her tone. Emily sees past it, spotting the way her daughter nervously wrings her hands, fingers digging at her cuticles in a way she had picked up from her.

“Of course, sweetie.” She stands and walks up to her daughter, and guides her into Joanne’s office with a gentle hand on her back.

_________________

“You did what??” Aaron asks, seething, as they get ready for bed side by side in their ensuite. He turns to her, a disbelieving look on his face.

“I took her to get birth control.” Emily answers around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink. She rinses it and places it next to his in the holder.

“Why?” He is glaring at her, and she's suddenly more glad than ever that she hadn’t broached this subject with him until after Amelia had a packet of pills sitting in her bathroom cabinet, with very explicit instructions on the importance of taking it correctly from both Emily and Joanne. “Is she sleeping with him?”

“I don’t even know if she is having sex yet. But you know these things happen. I bought the boys condoms when they were teenagers.” She purposely misses out that she had also bought Amelia condoms, thinking that admission might make her husband's head explode. “I wanted to make sure she takes precautions if she takes that step.”

“She’s 15, Emily.”

“Yeah, and so was I.” She closes her eyes and sighs, turning to look at her husband as she crosses her arms across her chest. She looks at him and bites her lip, trying to figure out what she’s been wanting to say. “Aaron, I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”

Emily can see the moment it registers in his head. The way his brow unfurls, his whole body unclenching as the anger seeps out of him, replaced by concern for her. He takes a step towards her. “Sweetheart…”

She shakes her head at herself, wiping a stray tear away that had fallen at the admission. “She deserves better than that.”

He sighs as he drags her into a hug, one she gladly returns, wrapping her arms around his back. “You deserved better than that too.”

Emily buries her face into his neck, breathes in the scent of him that had comforted her for more than half her life. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” _________________

Three days later it becomes a non issue. Amelia is out with friends, and Chase, leaving Aaron and Emily with the house to themselves.

Emily is sitting in her husband's lap on their couch. His hands up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, when she hears it. A car door slamming on edge of her consciousness, someone running up the steps of their porch. She pulls back from Aaron, the dazed look on his face surely matching the one on her own. “Did you hear that?” She breathes out.

They hear a key in the door and break apart like they’ve burnt each other, both standing as the front door opens.

Amelia bursts in, tears streaming down her face. She drops her bag at the front door, her school things abandoned in the foyer of their home, and as soon as her eyes land on Emily her face crumbles. The steady stream of tears turning into sobs. “Mom.”

“Amelia?” She closes the gap between them, concern for her daughter overriding anything else, any lingering hopes she had of alone time with her husband gone in an instant. Amelia is in her arms in seconds, clawing at her shirt to try and get as close as possible. She buries her face into Emily’s shoulder and weeps. Emily cups the back of her daughter’s head, and runs her other hand up and down her back. “Oh sweetheart, it’s ok.” She soothes. “You’ll be ok.”

Emily exchanges a concerned look with Aaron over the top of their daughter's head and she shakes her head at him slightly when he takes a step towards them, silently asking him to leave it to her. He understands, just like he always had, and leaves them to it despite wanting to know exactly what has upset Amelia this much.

“Mia, honey.” She says gently, hand still tangled in her daughter's dark hair. She tries to pull back slightly, cupping Amelia’s cheek, but she holds on to her tighter, sobs still tearing out of her throat. “Let’s move over to the couch, ok?”

Amelia nods against her but doesn’t separate herself from her mother at all. Emily carefully guides her over to the couch and sits down. Amelia curls into her, wrapping herself around her in a way she hadn’t done in years. Emily wraps her arms around her, and whispers random words of comfort into her daughter's hair.

“Sweetheart.” She says gently, pulling away enough that she can cup Amelia’s face in her hands. She wipes tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not until you’re ready, but I need to know if you’re hurt.”

Amelia shakes her head. “Not hurt.” She says, her words choked by her tears. She leans back into Emily, pressing her face into her neck.

“Ok, sweet girl.” Emily says the old nickname, one she hadn’t used since Amelia was 9 and turned her nose up at it, slipping out without thinking. She presses a kiss on her daughter's head. “I’m right here.”

It takes almost 30 minutes for Amelia to calm down, for her sobs to dissipate into sniffs and a hoarseness in her throat as she takes in ragged breaths. “He broke up with me.”

Emily frowns, holding her daughter impossibly tighter. “What?”

“Chase broke up with me.” Amelia says, pulling back so she could look at Emily properly. “He said I was boring.”

Emily covers her reaction to that, keeping her surprise away from her face. Boring was not a word she would have ever used to describe Amelia. She tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know you really liked him.”

Amelia snuggles back down into her, sniffing as she lays her head on Emily's shoulder. Emily runs her hand through her daughter's hair, soothing her as she finishes calming down. “What do you want to do?” Emily asks. “We could get Dad to go out and get Taco Bell.”

Amelia chokes out a laugh but shakes her head. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Whatever you want.” _________________

Aaron is pacing their bedroom when she enters it, softly closing the door behind her. He stops and looks at her, an expectant look on his face.

“He broke up with her.” Emily says. “She is heartbroken.” She hears how her own voice breaks as she tells him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.” She shakes her head at herself. “The worst thing is when she told me what happened I felt relieved. She’s sitting there absolutely hysterical and I’m relieved?”

Aaron closes the distance between them and hugs her. “You’re a fantastic mom, Em. I won’t let you believe anything other than that.”

She chokes out a laugh, somehow still surprised after all these years that he was able to guess what was really bothering her without her saying it outloud. “You’re a pretty great dad yourself, Mr Hotchner.” Emily lets herself relax in her husband’s embrace for a little longer, she pulls back and looks up at him. “I’m going to go in and sleep with her tonight.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He kisses her quickly before letting her go so she can get ready for bed. He watches as she pulls on pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt that once belonged to him.

Aaron admires his wife as she takes off her makeup from the day and puts her dark hair up, smiling as he catches sight of some grey flecks that she hates as she twists it into a bun. She never believes him when he says it, but he thinks she's more beautiful now than she was when they first met all those years ago. Emily had always been beautiful, from the 22 year old she was when they first met. Teasing smiles and flirty comments as she coaxed him out to a bar with her.

Emily always lamented aging, wondering where the time had gone. More self conscious now than she had been the entire time he had known her. All he saw in lines on her face that she thought made her look old was all the laughter and joy they’d had over the years. She was softer now, her hips wider, evidence that she had given him two of their children that made him find her even more attractive. The grey flecks in her hair, that he knew she’d get dyed again soon, that showed him just how long they had loved each other.

They had been together 31 years and sometimes Aaron felt every moment of it, every single thing that had happened to them since she kissed him at one of her mother’s events. It somehow also had passed in the blink of an eye, decades gone in seconds and he was still somehow lucky enough to have her by his side.

“You’re staring.” She says, pulling him out of his thoughts with an amused look on her face and a teasing tone to her voice.

He pulls her into his arms again, kisses her cheek, then her nose. Making her laugh as she tries to squirm away from him. “You’re beautiful.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.” _________________

Ameila smiles shakily at her mother as she walks into her room. Emily walks over to her bed and climbs in on the spare side, settling down for the night. She lays on her side and looks at Amelia, tucking some hair behind her ear. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Amelia sniffs, suppressing a sarcastic laugh. “I’ve been better.” She settles into her mother’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. In the darkness of her bedroom, with Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally feels like she can admit the truth. “It’s because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

“What do you mean?”

Amelia closes her eyes as she catches the tone in her mother’s voice, the dangerous edge to it that she was so rarely on the receiving end of. She had only ever really overheard it when she was talking to someone about work over the phone, or one the rare occasion her parents had a full blown row, their angry voices soon turning into other noises that Amelia thanked whoever was listening for the invention of noise cancelling headphones.

“That’s why he broke up with me.” Amela says, feeling tears build back up in her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

She feels her mother’s hold on her tighten, and the sharp intake of breath that she takes beneath her head. Emily kisses the top of her head. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”

Amelia drifts off to the feel of her mother stroking her hair, something she hadn’t had happen since she was younger. She was surprised to realise how much she had missed it, regret for how she had started to rebuff her mother’s affection a few years back building in her chest. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “Now get some sleep.”

She falls asleep, completely unaware of how Emily laid awake for hours, anger for a teenage boy she had only met once burning through her veins until she came up with a plan. _________________

Emily wakes in the morning to the sound of Amelia’s door opening. She opens her eyes to see her husband standing there, a takeout coffee holder in his hand, and an unsure look on his face.

She smiles at him as she sits up in bed and beckons him in. He switches the light on, which immediately wakes Amelia, her groans the first indication that she was up.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Aaron says kissing his wife before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” She murmurs against his lips, before lifting the coffee she knew was intended for her. Cold brew with enough sweetener in it to rot your teeth.

“You guys suck.” Amelia groans from below the comforter, voice still thick with sleep.

Emily chuckles. “I think you’ll change your mind when you see what your dad has brought you.”

Amelia lifts the comforter from off of her face and shoots up when she sees her favourite frappuccino in her fathers hands. “Dad, you are the best.” She takes a sip and moans, the sugar hitting her tongue. “No wonder Mom has put up with you so long.”

Aaron laughs, glad to see that she seemed her usual self after how devastated she had been the night before. “Are you ok, Mia?”

She smiles at her dad, a shaky thing that was always the first indicator from his wife and daughter that tears were on the horizon. “I will be.” ______________

Emily’s first thought is to set Penelope on Chase. Let her hack into his social media accounts and digitally ruin his life for upsetting her little girl. For trying to pressure her into something she didn’t want to do. She knew Penelope would do it without a second thought. She was the most trusted confidant of all of the younger Hotchner's outside of their parents. Jack had asked for her help planning his over the top proposal to his now wife. Theo had come out to her first, a nervous teenager in her office asking for help on how he could tell his parents. Amelia went to her for advice on everything from boys to elaborate hairstyles, and Penelope gently discouraged her from dying her hair bright purple when she was 13, knowing it would have given Aaron an aneurysm.

Emily was finishing getting ready for work, Amelia already on her way to school, as she started to formulate a text to her friend, a cryptic request to come see her as soon as she got to work, when Aaron snuck up on her in the kitchen.

“You can’t get Penelope to ruin his life.”

Emily jumps, cursing under her breath. “Damn it, Aaron.” She turns to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything of the sort.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “You weren’t thinking of having her hack all of his social media accounts and freeze his bank account?”

Emily flushes and puts her phone down on the counter. “I can’t just let him get away with it.”

Aaron smiles at her and pulls her towards him with his hands on her hips. “Baby, this is something we have to let her deal with ok?” He kisses her cheek, his smile deepening as she narrows her eyes at him. “No getting Penelope involved.”

“Fine.”

Plan B it was. _________________

Emily is never happier than when she has all of her family in her house. The boys were coming round for dinner, Jack and his wife Sara and Theo and his new boyfriend Zach, someone he had met at college. Theo texted her that morning, a list of strict instructions of things that absolutely couldn’t happen the first time Zach was meeting the family.

She had just let them in, hugging her son fiercely as he walked in and feeling love bloom in her chest when he hugged her back just as tightly, no embarrassment at giving his mother this affection in front of Zach.

She lets him go and turns to the young man standing next to her son. “You must be Zach, I’m Emily.”

He shakes her hand, a nervous smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

Amelia bursts into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and immediately breaks the first rule on Theo’s list. “Мама, какого хрена?”

“Не сейчас, милая. У нас гости. И не ругайся.” Emily replies, tilting her head towards where Theo and Zach were standing.

“Ты должен был подумать об этом, прежде чем угрожать моему бывшему парню!”

Zach leans in to Theo, a confused look on his face. “Are they speaking Russian?”

Theo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and looks at his boyfriend. “Yes.” He turns to his mother. “Ne pouvons-nous pas le faire? C'est la première fois que Zach rencontre tout le monde.”

Amelia rolls her eyes and Emily smiles at Theo. “Je suis désolé, chérie. On va bien se comporter.”

“Are you speaking French?” Zach asks, looking even more confused at the complete nonchalonce all of the Hotchner’s were showing at the multiple languages being thrown around as if it was nothing. The slight look of amusement on Aaron’s face as he walked into the room. “How many languages does your mom speak?”

Theo grabs his boyfriend's hand and leads him further into the house, away from the rest of the family. “Six. Seven if you include English.” _________________

Emily eyes Sara curiously when she turns down wine with her dinner, a small look passes between her and Jack when she asks for soda instead. Emily shares a similar look with her own husband, a look on his face saying he had spotted what she had too, and she gladly gets an alternative drink for her daughter-in-law.

Amelia sulks all the way through dinner. Rebuffing her brother’s questions about school, a glare fixed on her mother almost the entire time. It’s when she refuses her favourite dessert, cheesecake, that her brother’s interest is piqued.

“Mills.” Theo asks, amusement on his face at his sister’s behaviour. “What’s up with you?”

“Why don’t you ask Mom?” She said, pointedly looking at her mother. “Мама пытается разрушить мою жизнь, вот в чем дело.”

“I did not try and ruin your life, Amelia.” She says, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics. She looks at her sons and their respective partners. “All I did was have a conversation with the boy who made Amelia cry herself to sleep a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah. By explaining that you’re a Section Chief at the FBI, whilst you had your gun and badge on display.” Amelia exclaims.

There was a moment of silence at the table before it descended into laughter, confusion all over Zach’s face on whatever he had walked into.

“Oh sweetheart.” Aaron says, looping his arm around the back of her chair to place a hand on her shoulder. “Not again.”

Amelia frowns, looking at her parents in shock. “Not again? What the hell does that mean?”

“Mom’s crazy, Millie.” Theo says, a laugh bursting out of him.

“Hey, I resent that.” Emily says, sinking back into her chair slightly, glaring at Aaron when he laughs at her and kisses the side of her head.

Jack gives Emily a look with his eyebrows raised before looking back at his sister. “My first ever girlfriend broke up with me the day before homecoming, Mom scared the absolute shit out of her by showing up at her cheerleading practise the following day. She somehow managed to mention that Dad once killed a guy with his bare hands.”

“Your dad did what?” Zach asks, leaning in to Theo who just shook his head. A silent promise that he’d explain later.

“In my defence.” Emily says, crossing her arms across her chest, a slight flush to her face. “This one was really sick at the time and I was pretty sleep deprived.” She says pointing at Amelia. “I wasn’t entirely in control of my emotions, and you were just so sad.”

“She also made me very aware of what she does for a living when Jack and I first moved in together.” Sara pipes up, nothing but amusement on her face when she looks at her mother-in-law. She turns back to Amelia. “I think it’s sweet.”

Amelia shakes her head at them all and turns to Zach. “Run whilst you still can.” __________________

Emily closes the door behind Jack and Sara as they leave, promises of getting together soon uttered in between lingering hugs.

“Mom?”

Emily turns to see Amelia standing behind her, her hands in her pockets as she avoids her mother’s gaze. It’s the calmest she’s looked all evening, any frustration she had towards her and her actions having melted away.

“Look, I’m sorry, Amelia.” She says taking a step towards her daughter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that. But you were so upset, and he deserved to-”

Her ranting is cut off by Amelia throwing her arms around her waist and placing her head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Emily smiles and hugs her daughter back, kissing the top of her head as she pulls her closer. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“I always thought it would be Dad, or Theo or Jack who went after a boy for me.” She says against her mother’s shirt before she pulls away. “At least I can tell any future guys that my mom is crazy.” _________________

Emily turns to lay on her side as Aaron joins her in bed, she smiles at him and pushes some hair off of his forehead before running her blunt nails over his temples, the mix of dark and grey hair rasping as she goes. “When do you think Jack and Sara are going to tell us she’s pregnant?”

A laugh peels out of Aaron before he leans forward and kisses her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers. “Whenever they are ready.”

Emily shifts so her back is against him and pulls his arm over her waist, sighing when he settles his chest against her. “You’d think they’d learn they can’t hide anything from us.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her a little tighter. “We’ve got some pretty great kids.”

“We really do.”

“You have got to stop threatening anyone who hurts them though.”

“Sure, love.” She says, pulling his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll stop.”

They both know she won’t.

#hotchniss #Hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fan fiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTB Universe #Day-to-Day #it's just fluff guys #family fluff #domestic fluff #just them living their lives #which frankly they deserve #after what I put them through in ITSWM

43 notes · View notes

camistired · 3 years

Text

stranger

scenario: trying to show Bucky that your there for him during tfatws, but he keeps ignoring you

a/n: i started writing this yesterday after watching the first episode of tfatws. if people like this, i might make this a whole ff following the show, so let me know if you like this. also please ignore any mistakes or if it’s wordy, i haven’t written anything in months. i am open to criticism!

edit: i didn’t realize i didn’t name until i was trying to add it to my masterlist, so please ignore the half-assed name, please and thankyou

reader has been left gender-neutral and has no specific race written

spoiler warning

It had been a few months since everyone started reappearing, yourself included. The last thing you remembered was waiting out the fight with Thanos with Shuri, and you remembered feeling lighter then usual and you watched as your friend turned to dust before your very eyes. However what felt like the same breathe, you watched as her being was rebuilt by the same dust the took her away.

It had been a lot to process, to know that you and others close to you had basically died, and came back to the same exact fight happening. It was worse to come back to know that one of your dearest friends was dead and she couldn’t be brought back like the lot of you. It sucked standing in-between Bucky and Sam at Tony’s funeral.

You had missed five years of life, and for what? For some giant purple pyscho titan to stop over population and then become a space rancher? In your eyes, it was complete and utter bullshit. But you can’t change the past.

With Steve’s retirement, Bucky’s pardon, and Sam still kicking ass and saving people as The Falcon, you felt lost. Everyone else has scattered around to handle everything by themselves. But you thrived off of others, that’s just how you worked. So, sitting lonely in your single bedroom Brooklyn apartment, you let out a loud sigh.

You stayed in New York, purely for Bucky’s sake. The man is a hundred and six, and is an ex-assassin, he doesn’t need your help. Especially since you can barely hold a gun without nearly pissing your pants. But you knew the man was basically alone. He spent his past ninety years being in and out of ice fighting, except when he had his moment of peace in Wakanda.

You’ve tried to reach out, called him every now and again, but it was always went to voicemail. You left so many voicemails, your surprised it isn’t full by now. But you’ll keep leaving them, no matter if he actually listens to them or if he just deletes them immediately. You hoped that they gave him some sort of comfort if he did ever listen to them.

You looked at the time, it was a quarter past eleven. You let out another sigh. Something you still haven’t been able to get down was your damn sleep schedule. Sometimes you stayed up until two - three in the morning and sleep into the afternoon, and that was on a good day. You tried to establish a routine, but it just never worked. If you tried to go to bed earlier, you end up either staring at the ceiling till sunrise or waking up in the middle of the night, for no reason. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, you didn’t have a nightmare, you just woke up, and you couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter what you tried. You’ve expressed this to your brother, you suggests maybe you go see a therapist, maybe do a sleep study, but you just shut the ideas down. That was the last things you wanted to do, was be monitored.

However, you couldn’t do this anymore. You forced yourself out of bed and changed your clothes from your normal sweatpants and baggy t-shirt to leggings and a slightly less baggy shirt. If you couldn’t fall asleep naturally, might as well take a walk around the block and maybe take a melatonin tablet or two, see if that does anything.

Locking your door, you start walking down your hall when you see a man walk away from your neighbor’s, Yori Nakajima’s, door. You’ve known the old man for as long as you lived here. You’ve tried to help him out as much as he will let you, and even though he’ll never admit it, he appreciates the help. He tries to repay in small ways, he even offers you to join him and a younger friend of his for sushi down at Izzy, but you always turn him down. You helped to help, not get anything in return.

You walked up to Yori’s door but he closed it before you could reach his door. You sighed and instead decided to talk to the man walking away.

“Excuse me!” You called out, walking towards him. He seemed to tense up and walked a little faster but you touch his arm before he could go much farther.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I just have a few question...”

He cursed under his breathe but he didn’t move. That’s when you noticed the way he held himself. His body language very much showed he was uncomfortable, and whether he was doing on purpose or subconsciously, he was leaning away from where your hand met his arm.

You moved your hand back down to your side but you walked in front of him and you froze when you saw his face.

“Bucky?!”

He seemed to shy into himself more when you recognized who he was, making you instantly felt bad. However, examining him he looked different. His hair was a big one, ever since you first met Bucky, his hair was shoulder length. But he looked a lot cleaner with shorter hair, his loose curls a lot more prominent now. However, that seemed to showcase the most change. It felt as if he went backwards more than anything.

His jacket, the gloves, the brooding energy radiating off of him. He felt like the man you met back when the whole “Civil War” mess was happening.

He softly addressed you, but he still never looked at you directly. It was concerning especially since you considered you two close. But maybe it was because you two haven’t talked properly? Maybe because he’s been ignoring your calls? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care. It made you feel better he was out talking to people, no matter that it was your older neighbor, he was interacting with people. It made you wonder if he had talk to Sam, but you doubted it.

“Long time no see, stranger. Glad to see your still alive.”

He looked at you with a blank expression, and you recognized that looked. He was looking for a tell, if you were angry at him or not. In all honesty, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry like he excepted you to be. You’re glad he was doing something, he didn’t have to be okay fully, just as long as he was going out.

“I’m not angry, Bucky.” You said flatly, as his eyes met yours. You could tell that he relaxed, physically. “I mean, concerned, sure. Scared you had locked yourself in your apartment, definitely. But not mad. Just... wished you would have called. Sent a text to let me know you were okay... Anything, really.”

He sighs, “I know... I should have done something- said something. I just have a lot going on.”

“Everyone does. Half of the population got turned into dust, we’ve lost a lot of friends. It’s just... we’ve gotta stay together, you know? We can’t rely on Steve anymore... And the more we’re by ourselves, the more we’re just creating terrible coping mechanisms, ya know?”

He seems to be taking in your words and you just smile at him softly. “Just think about it, okay?”

You begin walking down the hall before you turn towards him again, “Oi! And Barnes?”

He looks up at you, “Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you soon, just know I will hunt you down and beat your ass! No more of this distancing, stranger shit. I know how to find you now. And you know where I live!”

You smirk as you turn around to finally go on that walk, but little did you know that Bucky had a little smirk of his own as he took in your words.

“No more distancing, no more acting like a stranger... I have to start nurturing my friendships...”

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soilder #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #mcu fanfiction #mcu #mcu fluff #mcu angst #mentions of infinity war #mentions of endgame #tfatws spoilers #marvel

82 notes · View notes

evanstanwrites · 3 years

Text

Hot dentist - Steve Rogers AU

Sum: What did I bring myself into? Flirting with my dentist, none the less hot dentist, and then let him drive me home? Wasn’t this doomed to fail?

pairing: Dentist Steve Rogers x reader

warnings: my bad writing xD, +18 only, SMUT, public sex, unprotected sex, sexual acts while driving

I was so nervous as I stood in front of the dentist’s office in my local hospital. Today was the day I’d get my wisdom tooth removed, I had been in so much pain that I couldn’t delay it any longer. A few weeks ago I had noticed that there was a piece that had broken off my tooth and it had been the cause of a lot of pain, seeing as the nerves in the tooth got uncovered. So I found the little bit of courage I had left and made an appointment with my local dentist, an old but friendly man who was only a few weeks from retirement.

He had taken one look at my broken tooth and knew that it wasn’t a job he could handle. It turned out to be a wisdom tooth that I didn’t even know I had. It was the surprise of my life and when he said that I had to go to the hospital’s dentist to have it removed under anesthesia I panicked completely. I was already scared shitless of a regular dentist and needles now they were gonna stick needles into my mouth? What more do you need to shit your pants out of fear. But I got my shit together because I didn’t want to live with this kind of pain forever so I made the appointment with doctor S.Rogers at my local hospital.

“Hey, I’m Y/n and I have an appointment with doctor Rogers,” I say once I got my shit together and got to the front desk of doctor Rogers’s office.

“Welcome, Y/n, please fill in this form while you wait. You can hand the filled in form to the doctor” The lady behind the desk says as she starts to hand me all different kinds of papers and documents.

“The waiting area for doctor Rogers is at the end of the hallway, you can take a seat there.” she smiles and points in the direction of the waiting area.

After a short thank you and a nervous smile I follow the given directions through the long hallway filled with other waiting patients at all different doctors’ offices but none of them are the one I need to be at. After what seems like a long walk I finally reach the waiting area I need to be at seeing a large nameplate on one of the doors stating the doctor’s name.

I take my place on one of the chairs and start to fill in the form I was given by the lady at the front desk. Just as I was done the door of the office opens and a tall blond model like man with one of the brightest smiles stands in the door opening.

God this man was drop dead gorgeous, who was he? Was he the nurse, Maybe doctors Rogers’s assistant, or what if this was doctor Rogers? Omg kill me now, I’m not going to survive this if that species of a man is gonna do the procedure.

What if I say something stupid during the anesthesia?

“Miss Y/l/n?”

God even the sound of his voice is to melt for. I quickly get a hold of myself and stand up.

“That’s me.” I smile at the man.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Rogers. please come in,” he says as he steps out of the way and signs for me to walk in first.

Oh god, he is the doctor, I’ll have to do my best to act normal. I think to myself as I walk into the office and sit on one of the chairs before handing over the filled in forms as he walks past me to his seat.

“So I got all the information from your dentist, seems like you need to have your wisdom tooth removed.” He explains as he sits down behind his desk, looks over the papers before smiling at me.

“I do see here that you requested the use of the anesthetic gas but I fear that it’s not possible today due to some technical problems.”

“Oh, so what’s going to happen then?” I ask suddenly not that concerned about the fact that I didn’t know how to act around a drop dead gorgeous doctor but more scared about the procedure itself.

“Well seeing as you’re the last patient of the day our only option for the procedure is a local anesthetic. But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. I know it sounds more terrifying than it actually is. I promise you I won’t hurt you, it’ll be a bit uncomfortable but it won’t hurt.” he reassures me which to I can only nod shortly, still nervous.

“You’ll be alright, miss, you’re in good hands”

One of his warm hands covered mine that laid on top of the desk as he says it with a smile.

Wow, this man is really all smiles but knows how to put someone at ease. I think as I smile back at him.

“Okay, Thank you, doctor Rogers”

“You’re welcome and please call me Steve. What ya say we get started and get it over with?”

Steve’s not even finished speaking when he stands up from his chair and holds a hand out to help me to my feet and leads me to the room next to the office where the procedure would take place.

And before I know it I’m in the chair leaning back, watching Steve move around the room as he washes his hands before gloving up.

In the end, he was right, I barely felt it when he injected the local anesthetic into my gums. In comparison to any dentist I had ever met Steve was very soft in his handling and very talkative, it seems like he forgot that he was working in my mouth and that I couldn’t talk back. Which lead to a couple of funny moments but it did put my mind at ease, I wasn’t scared at all anymore and it started to feel more like Steve and I knew each other for a long time. He even flirted with me a few times, at least I think he did.

Every time he’d had to do something that would cause me even the slightest bit of discomfort he warned me and checked if all was alright after.

Overall the procedure only took around half an hour and soon enough Steve was putting his work in finishing with stitching up the wound.

“Here you go sweetheart, we’re all done,” he says leaning back on his chair before cleaning up the little worktable so I could sit up.

“You got someone to take you home? Because it’s not wise to drive while the anesthetic is still working,”

Shit, I didn’t think about that. He’s right I can’t drive like this.

“No, I don’t but I’ll call for a cab to drive me home,” I say which comes out a bit more like a mumble due to my still numb mouth as I stand up from the chair, ready to collect my stuff so I can leave even if I don’t really want to. I wanted to be in his presence for as long as I could, that was the kind of effect he had on me.

“No need to call a cab, I can drive you home seeing as I’m off in a few minutes.” he smiles as we walk back into his office “Only if you want that is?” he quickly adds.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose after all I’m just your patient,” I say a bit unsure, I want to say yes but was it wise to, it isn’t professional at least.

“Well as soon as we walk out of this office you’re not my patient anymore and we can do what we choose to do,” he chuckles as he sits back down behind his office ready to finish up his paperwork for the day.

“Okay, you can drive me home if you really want to,” I respond trying not to smile that big so I wouldn’t drool too much caused by the numb lips. Steve seemed to notice and chuckled a bit louder.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the anesthetic will wear off. The numb feeling should be over in about half an hour,” he says before pointing at his computer.

“Give me 5 minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs in front of the main entrance. I quickly need to fill in this form and then chance and I’ll be down to pick you up.”

What did I bring myself into? Flirting with my dentist, none the less hot dentist, and then let him drive me home? Wasn’t this doomed to fail? But then again I was already in too deep to stop now, there was no option to go back now. There was no harm in having a bit of fun right? Who knows what I get out of it: a friend, a one night stand, or maybe a boyfriend? Who knows? Was this really so bad? No not at all, there was nothing wrong with this.

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car flirting with him, a lot. The atmosphere turned hot and sexual very quickly just as our conversation and it seemed like it affected both of us. Steve obviously had a ‘little not so little’ problem in his pants and he didn’t even try to hide it. Even his hand has found its place on top of my thigh, slowly rubbing small circles onto my warm skin making me squeeze my thighs together to get some relief. The smirk on his lips showed me that he knew that it affected me too, I bet he could almost smell how wet I was.

“Really I can’t say thank you enough for driving me home. I don’t know how I can ever repay you Steve,” I say with a small smile.

“I could think of something,” Steve smirked seductively

“Oh, what are you thinking about then?” I ask faking innocence, I had a good guess what it would be and I was totally down for it but I wanted to see how he would respond.

But Steve didn’t say anything, he just softly took my hand, gave it a soft reassuring squeeze and placed my hand on top of the bulge in his pants.

I sucked in a deep breath of surprise, he felt huge for what I could feel through his pants.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to sweetheart” he quickly says taking my action as a rejection.

“No, It’s okay, I want to. I just wasn’t prepared to feel,... you feel so big Steve” I giggle which makes him chuckle in response.

“Well that’s because I am big sweetheart” he winks just as I start to unzip and unbutton his pants.

“Can I?”

“Yes, go for it”

More he doesn’t has to say before I slip my hand through his now open pants and wrap my hand around his rock hard cock. His skin felt warm and soft in my hand, god he is really big.

I tried to feel as much as I could, discovering every inch, every vein, every unique part of his cock.

“you’re teasing sweetheart,” Steve says softly as he holds back a moan.

“But I like teasing,” I pout which makes him laugh

“You little minx,”

I finally decide to stop teasing and now wramp my hand firmly around his now leaking hard cock and slowly start stroking it.

“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, just like that” Steve moans as he tries his best to keep his focus on the road but that proved to be a hard task.

I loved the feeling of his cock in my hand and started to imagine how he would feel if it wasn’t my hand wrapped around his cock but my pussy. I bet it would feel great, hit all the right spots and make me fall over the edge quickly. Damn, I almost came just by thinking of it.

“Oooh fuck it” I hear Steve bread hard as he suddenly makes a sharp turn into what seemed an empty backroad surrounded by trees.

“Euh Steve, this isn’t the way to my place,” I say surprised as I pull my hand out of his pants and look around me. There was nobody or nothing but trees to be seen.

“I know but I can’t keep my focus on the road anymore, and I need a turn too sweetheart” he smirked as he parks his.

Before I even know it he gets out of the car, and I follow his lead, meeting him at the hood of his car. It doesn’t take long before he’s all over me, kissing me along the curve of my throat, his hands moving all over my body like he’s making a road map to some treasure.

“You’re driving me crazy sweetheart” he pants

“Maybe you should do something about it” I smirk as I hop onto the hood of his car

“I so want to kiss you right now but I fear that will have to wait. But can I fuck you instead?” he asks as he steps into the open space between my legs while his hands move up my legs.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I chuckle as I lift my skirt a bit as an invitation for him to slide his hands under, which he eagerly does and starts to rub over the soaked crotch of my panties making me move my hips up to his hand and moan at the touch. It really had been a long time since the last time someone even touched me down there, I felt like I was a virgin again.

“Please, Steve, just fuck me already” I moan

“Look who’s impatient now,” he says as he shoves his still unzipped pants a bit lower so he could free cock, giving it a few strokes before moving the crotch of my panties to the side and slowly rubs the tip of his cock between my folds coating himself in my fluids.

I don’t care that we’re in public, I don’t care that someone could hear or see us, in this moment there was only Steve and me and how good he made me feel. I was already flying high on pleasure and he wasn’t even inside me yet. So the moment he actually started to push his cock inside me I couldn’t stop myself and moaned loudly at the feeling, feeling every inch of him as he filled me.

“Fuck you’re so tight sweetheart” he moans, seemingly just as much lost in pleasure as I am.

Once he was fully inside of me he didn’t give me much time to adjust to his huge cock and just started to pull back out slowly and thrust back in with a hard and fast snap of his hips making me almost scream out in pleasure. I can only hold on for the ride he takes me on as he set a strong and fast pace. Proving my imagination from earlier in that to be true, his cock does hit all the right spots every time he slams back in.

One of his strong hands grips onto my hip keeping me in place while with the thumb of his other hand he rubs my clit edging me closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Steve,...., so close,..., please,” I didn’t even know what I was begging for but Steve seemed to understand as he started to speed up the movements of his thumb on my clit.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I got you. Cum for me, I’m right behind you.” he moans out of breath. It seems like that was all it took before he guided me over the edge and I came harder than I’ve ever done before with a loud scream. It didn’t take long before Steve followed me and spilled his seed deep inside me.

“I should have made that appointment much sooner with you doctor Steve.”

please remember to like, comment and reblog :-)

@feelmyroarrrr @rynabarnesrogers-reading @denisemarieangelina @patzammit @palaiasaurus64 @loricameback @lizette50 @jennmurawski13

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x y/n #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x you #dentist steve #doctor steve #Chris Evans #captain america #steve x you #steve x reader #steve x y/n

161 notes · View notes

stellocchia · 3 years

Note

(Already sent this to someone else hope you don't mind) man does Irony by Dirt Poor Robins remind me of techno, like the line "this pride has left you blinded or willfully confused" just fits him, and now im sad cause gosh darn it does that pig not have thought in his head

I don't mind! Honestly other people are probably better than me with song stuff because my brain just doesn't work with music... but god this song is simply

✨perfect✨

Like, I actually have to hold myself back from quoting it all because it just fits.

"We heard your side / There was a plea of innocence and alibi / Stating that justice should favor you / Due to the list wicked things you witnessed other people do"

Let's start with the beginning because this just fits so so well with his speech on the 16th. Him proclaiming himself in the right and all of the others as having betrayed and used him on the basis of pure misinformation. He decided that he was right in betraying them and in attacking them unprovoked because they committed coup (they didn't) and because Schlatt was fairly elected (he wasn't but, even if he was, that didn't stop him from becoming a dictator). It was all about bashing them for their rebellion while distancing himself from it as if he hadn't been right there alongside them.

"Did you know that debt that you have made / No perfect thing you do could e’er repay? / For Justice knows the balance and your case cannot be won / By pressing down the scales with your own thumb"

And that brings us to another interesting verse. This time I relate it a lot with the aftermath of the 16th. Techno left swearing he'd be back if they ever made a government again (because he had the right to decide for them in his mind for some f*cking reason) and then decided that going into retirement somehow absolved him from any sort of repercussion. But that's not how things work and him arbitrarily doing something for himself didn't fix anything.

"For one word you spoke has done a hundred harm"

Also, this one could apply to a lot of things, but mostly to the "you want to be a hero Tommy?" that started a lot of sh*t for Tommy and it's never really acknowledged. It put even more expectations on his shoulders that he didn't need.

"There's only one of you to damage, yet the world has millions more / Drowning in the fount of pain you've poured"

Again, holy crap all of this applies so much... for the 16th but even more so for Doomsday. Because he was satisfied in declaring it fair and necessary when all he did was leave a bunch of people homeless and give them even more trauma. He got his feelings hurt, sure, but the damage he's caused is just so absurdly disproportional...

This pride has left you blinded or willfully confused / You thought that when you cried for justice, the target wasn't you / Yet in the end your fatal flaw, the measurements were wrong / For you saw the sins of others, as greater than your own

And lastly, all this verse which is the one you were mentioning Anon. And while the whole song is incredibly fitting this one is just the cherry on top. Both because Techno's pride and his self-centeredness are the reasons why he stays ignorant to both the harm he causes and the reality of the world that surrounds him (and I ranted about this before just so much) but also the rest of it.

But also because Techno is one of the most hypocritical characters out there. He touts violence as the only universal language yet bashes others when they use it themselves. He proclaims that he will do onto others worse than they do onto him and yet yells about the injustice of others enacting the same mentality. He keeps bashing petty crimes in others (like Tommy for stealing or calling Tubbo a dictator even months after L'Manburg is gone) but ignoring his own faults.

He's a hypocrite, simple as that. And that is his main flaw. He lacks any ability to criticize himself, and yet any perceived fault of others is held in absurdly high regard by him.

It's a prefect song really, like, thank you Anon, this was a great one to find!

#anon ask #dream smp #c!techno critical #character analysis #long post #this was actually fun!#and the song didn't get my brain to shut down so that's a win in my book

19 notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Note

Okay but like a fluffy eskel bit/one shot about a sweet and gentle hearth witch reader who lives in the valleys just south of Kaer Morhen who eskel visits with going to and from Mountain Pass. He brings her books and trinkets from his travels. She restocks his potions and tends to physical and emotional wounds.

Lil Bleater loves her obviously and they joke about her being their “kid” (lol goat humor).

The first time he says he loves her and it’s super sweet and emotional. And maybe he brings her a piece of jewelry that’s super sentimental. Idk I’m just in an Eskel loving mood, you know?

Pleeeeease? 🥺❤️

A/N: Babe you hit me right in my feels with this one. I hope you liked this!!

***

There was a knock at the front door that brought you out of the book in your hand.

You lifted your head, eyes finding the door to your home. You listened for a few moments, wanting to see if you could hear who it was.

Lil Bleater loudly bleated and butted her head against the side of your chair.

“I know. I’m going to get it.” You patted her head then stood to your feet.

You pulled the door open, smiling at the sight of a familiar dark haired witcher.

“Hi, doll.” Eskel smiled softly at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He was exhausted, dark circles made their home beneath his honey eyes.

“Hello, love.” You held your hand out. “I wasn’t expecting you for another month or so. It’s still fairly warm outside.”

“I hope that isn’t inconvenient for you.” He placed his hand in yours, brushing his thumb across your knuckles, and stepped into your home.

“You’re never inconvenient to me.” You assured him, squeezing his hand.

Before he had a chance to put down the two bags he carried, Lil Bleater was eagerly ramming into Eskel’s shins, bleating and demanding attention.

“Your daughter missed you.” You sighed, smiling softly at how her little tail flickered back and forth so quickly.

“And I missed her.” Eskel put his bags aside and knelt down to greet the goat. He rubbed her head and then down her back. “Hi, girl. Did you behave?”

“As behaved as she usually is.” You answered, moving to the kettle that hung over the fire. “She hasn’t torn apart any of my dresses when I hang them up on the line outside to dry, so that’s good.”

“Yeah.” Eskel nodded, standing back to his full height. “I still owe you for that.” He thought out loud, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh, no worries.” You shook your head, peeking up at him through your lashes. “I’m sure I can think of other ways you could repay me.”

His neck and ears flushed red.

“Let me get this tea started and then I will properly greet you.” You poured the steaming hot water into two mugs and then added the tea leaves.

You rubbed your hands together and moved around the table.

Eskel embraced you tightly, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body. He tucked his nose into your hair, freezing as he relished in your warm touch.

“I missed you.” You told him, your hand rubbing his side.

“Missed you too.” He exhaled steadily, then kissed the top of your head as he released you. You lifted your head from his chest so that you could look at him. His hand cupped the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. “I decided to come this way early. Wanted to spend a little extra time with you this time. One week isn’t enough.”

“I’m more than happy to have you.” You turned your head to kiss his palm. “Why don’t you go to the creek around back? Clean up a little and get out of this armor?”

“Are you saying I smell?” He grinned a little.

“No.” You laughed softly. “I just won’t make good company while I’m trying to get dinner ready for us. And you don’t need to be in this armor any longer.”

He nodded, looking down at Lil Bleater, who was curiously nosing through one of his bags.

“I’ll put my bags in the other room.” Eskel dipped his head down to kiss your nose. “Don’t want either of you taking a peek at the things I’ve got for you.”

“I would never.” You shook your head, though the grin on your lips gave away that you were lying.

Though you insisted that Eskel didn’t need to bring you anything back from his journey across the Continent during the warm months of the year, he still did. It had always been that way since you first met. You were always excited to see what he brought for you. Last year, it had been a few books on herbalism and alchemy and a few gemstones.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He chuckled. He moved away from you to pick up his bags and take them into your bedroom.

Lil Bleater followed him, her hooves beating against the wooden floorboards as she demanded attention.

“I’ll take her with me.” Eskel told you as he headed for the front door. Tucked underneath one arm were a few articles of clothing, something more comfortable than his armor, no doubt.

“Please do. She’ll tear my door down trying to get to you.” You moved into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

You watched Eskel and Lil Bleater leave, a little smile coming to your lips.

To say you were happy would be an understatement. You were overjoyed, thrilled even. Usually, Eskel only spent two weeks with you a year. Once at the beginning of spring just as he left Kaer Morhen. It was then that he would drop Lil Bleater off to you for you to watch her while he was on the Path, and you would refill his potions. And once again at the end of the warm season before he retired to the keep for the winter. He’d leave you a list of the potions and elixirs he needed that way you’d have all winter to ensure they were refilled correctly. He always insisted you didn’t have to do it, but you were more stubborn than him. You wanted to help him and you refused to take his coin when he tried to pay you. Sometimes, he’d sneak down from Kaer Morhen during the winter to see you. You’d known him for what felt like centuries, but it had only been six years. The relationship you had with him shouldn’t have been so strong.

You knew it was silly to wait so eagerly for a man. However, you were willing to wait for him no matter how long he would be gone. You adored the witcher and admired him. He was a gentle soul scarred by a harsh lifestyle he had no say in.

You knew neither of your lifestyles would allow for the ‘perfect’ life with a family.

You had been a mage at one point in time, advisor to the Temerian royal family. You’d given up the political life a century ago to move to Kaedwen. You settled in the valley beneath the Blue Mountains which Kaer Morhen was nestled into. There, you became known to a village an hour or so away. The humans who lived there would travel to you seeking herbal remedies when one of their own were sick or when their village seemed to be plagued by famine or drought.

And Eskel was a witcher. With his lifestyle alone, a family wouldn’t be possible. He was meant to be in one place for too long.

The way things worked between you two now would be the only way you could be together. You couldn’t abandon your home to follow Eskel around the Continent, and he wouldn’t want you to.

You were content with the life you had.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the front door opened.

Eskel walked in, now in a pair of black trousers and a dark red tunic that wasn’t laced up all the way at the chest.

He smiled at you and you returned the gesture.

“Have I ever told you how much I love that color on you?” You asked him, returning your gaze to the bread you were kneading.

“I think you’ve mentioned it about every time I wear this.” He nodded his head.

Your eyes flickered up briefly to catch sight of him. There was a dark spot you hadn’t noticed before, a bruise on his chest no longer covered by armor. It was where the material dipped down into a V and the laces weren’t pulled together.

“Eskel, what’s that?” You asked him, stepping away from the bread and wiping your hands off.

His eyes followed your gaze.

“Oh. Just a bruise.”

“It looks terrible, Eskel.” You pushed the material of his shirt to the side so you could get a better look. “Eskel.” You murmured his name.

The bruise was dark blue and angry, more than likely fresh since it had yet to turn yellow and heal.

“When did this happen?”

“Early this morning. There was a fiend.” He took your hand from his chest. “It’ll be okay.”

“Shouldn’t it start healing by now?” You furrowed your brows together, looking up at him.

“It kicked me pretty hard, but it’ll be okay. Should be gone by tomorrow night.”

You frowned, looking back down at the mark.

Eskel wouldn’t let you linger on his injury. He took ahold of your chin and tilted your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss from you.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s hard not to worry.” You sighed, leaning into him for a few heartbeats. “I never know where you’re at or what’s happening to you.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly, dipping his head down to rest his lips on your forehead.

***

He stayed in the kitchen while you made dinner, keeping you company and telling you little stories from his time on the Path this year.

After you both ate, he helped you clean up the kitchen so that he could give you the gifts he brought this time.

He carried a couple different sachets and sat down next to you at the table.

“I got these from Vengerberg.” He passed you a little dark red sachet. “There’s a little shop there that sells a lot of cute little stones and rocks. These ones made me think of you.”

You opened the sachet and carefully poured the contents out onto the table. There was a bright yellow and orange tumbled stone, a deep blue raw stone, and a light purple raw stone.

“Eskel, they’re beautiful.” You picked them up to hold them in your hands.

“Do you want to know why I picked those ones?” He smiled, happy that you liked your gift.

“Yes! Tell me.”

“Purple is your favorite color, isn’t it?��

You nodded, looking up at him to watch him while he spoke.

“The orange and yellow one reminded me of when the leaves turn. That’s when I finally get to come see you.” His voice lowered to a quiet murmur. “And when I first met you, you wore a dark blue dress. It was my favorite dress on you.”

“Eskel, that’s so sweet.” You leaned forward to hug him tightly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you.”

He hugged you back, squeezing you tightly, and then leaned back in his chair as you examined the stones in your hand.

“There’s something else.” Eskel picked up the second sachet made of dark blue velvet.

You put the stones back into the red sachet and took the blue one from him. You opened it up and poured what was inside on to your hand.

It was a thin gold chain with a little rose quartz pendant.

“Oh, Eskel. It’s beautiful!” You brushed your thumb along the stone.

“It’s a rose quartz. But you-I’m sure you knew that.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands along the tops of his thighs. “Rose quartz is the stone of love.”

Your eyes met his, lips parting as your breath caught in your throat.

“Because I-I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, bringing his eyes down to his hands. “I just…. I needed to tell you that. I need you to know.”

“Eskel.” You smiled at him, putting the necklace down for a second so you could hold his hands. “My love, I’ve known it for a while. You show it with your actions, with returning to me when you can. When you smile at me. And your eyes, they’re so soft and gentle. You don’t need to be so nervous about it.”

“I just…. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Didn’t want to scare you away.”

“You could never scare me away.” You stood up. He did the same after you tugged gently on his hands. “I love you.”

You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, pulling him down to you. His arms slipped around your waist. He tucked his nose into your shoulder, letting out a soft breath.

“I love you.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your neck.

“I love you.” You repeated, your hand coming up to the back of his head.

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @she-wolfoftheinquisition @titaniafire

#Eskel x reader fluff #Eskel fluff #the witcher #eskel x reader #Eskel fic #1200 followers celebration #kacey answers

146 notes · View notes

panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

on the ocean {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 9.8k

Summary: Living on a boat has let you see plenty of weird things in your life. Leo Valdez might be the weirdest, so you don’t really understand why you decide to help him when he comes running onto the boat you call home, crying out for help.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: nothing

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - so this is a thing now.

----

The sea is nice this time of day.

You've docked, thank goodness. The constant sway of the ocean can take it's toll on anyone – including someone who has lived on a boat their entire lives. It's nice to take a break from it every once in a while.

Now, with the sun slowly dipping behind the skyscrapers of New York, you lean against the railing and watch the people clatter onto the boat you call home. They struggle with suitcases and fussy children. A woman drops her ticket and starts crying, clearly exhausted from hours of travelling. You watch the process with a fond little smile on your face, enamoured by the people who will soon be sharing your space, the people you may soon come to know as close friends if all works well.

There's tons of them getting on at this stop, but it's always the same with New York; considering how beautiful the city is, you're always shocked to find so many people wanting to flee from it, so many people wanting to spend their time on the ocean rather than amongst the skyscrapers and hot dog carts that you've heard litter the streets of New York. You, personally, would love to have a look. Just once. Just a single day where you can clamber off this cruise ship and take a dander through the streets, seeing what all the fuss is about.

But you like it here. You like the rock of the ocean sometimes. You like the swish of the wind as it catches in your hair on nights where you can't seem to drag yourself away from the decks railing, too enamoured by the oceans sway to move.

The commotion down below does not faze you. It never does; you've been here long enough to have seen almost everything by now – children threatening to throw themselves into the harbour, people genuinely falling into the harbour, tickets getting lost, suitcases being tipped the wrong way so the poor passengers clothes go sprawling into the ocean. After so many years of unpredictability, you've become immune to surprises.

Until you see him.

You don't recognise him – not at all. His dark curls, his short demeanour, the oil stained overalls hanging from his lanky body; you would surely remember him if you were to have seen him anywhere else, but his face doesn't ring a bell. Neither does his voice, which reaches even your ears despite how high up you are in comparison to him.

He sprints through the centre of the crowd, nudging shoulders with everyone as he yells apologies left, right and centre. He's grinning, despite the startled tone in his voice. He pushes right to the front of the line, where he is stopped abruptly by a hand slamming into his chest, very nearly knocking him backwards.

You have to crane your neck to see what is going on. The strange boy stands panting in front of Arnold, one of the ships dock workers.

“Look, man,” the boy says, jumping from one foot to the other. “You have to let me through. You have to.”

“Ticket,” is Arnold's only response.

The boy groans, glancing over his shoulder in desperation. You don't even know what he's looking at, but it's clearly something terrifying. Even without knowing what it is, your stomach does a nervous flip.

“I need a ticket,” Arnold repeats. “Or else I can't let you on. I'm sorry, son.”

“Oh, come on!” The boy throws his hands up. “Why are you so boring? You ever broken the rules in your life?”

Shit.

You're moving before you even know why – you don't know this boy, have never seen him before in your life, but there's something about the way he's stumbling over his words, something about the suspicious red scrape on his cheek that tells you he shouldn't be out in the open like that; something is wrong.

You clamber down the steps until you reach the entrance. You shove past the new passengers until you slam into Arnold's back, nearly stumbling over your own two feet in your haste. Arnold spins, catching you before you can fall face-first into the angry queue of passengers still waiting outside, clearly angered by the disruption.

“You made it!” you exclaim, looking directly at the startled boy in front of you. “You're a bit late, aren't you? I cleaned my room for you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Y/N?” Arnold asks, tugging you back protectively. “You know this boy?”

You raise a brow as if confused that Arnold does not know who this boy is. “Of course I do. He's my friend. Mum and Dad said I could meet up with him once we docked in New York.” You frown. “Did they not tell you?”

Arnold's face goes red. “No, they did not.”

“Weird.” You turn back to the boy, putting your angry expression back on again. “Come on. You've held up the line long enough.”

The boy looks between you and Arnold, eyebrows high on his forehead; you grab his hand and drag him through the door before he can expose your act as the lie it is. He stumbles in after you, shooting a “Sorry, man!” at Arnold before you pick up the pace and trail him upstairs.

This is so bizarre; you've just lied to Arnold for seemingly no reason. If he goes to your parents and asks about who this strange boy is, you're going to be in so much trouble.

But too late now.

And call it scandalous, but the only place you can think to take him is your bedroom, so that's exactly where you go. You push him through the door, slamming it closed before you spin and say, “What's your name?” because that seems like an important piece of information to have from someone who you have just dragged into your bedroom.

“Leo.” He says it like he's in a daze. His brown eyes dart back and forth, inspecting your room. His fingers don't stop moving, fiddling with a piece of scrap metal you hadn't even noticed he was holding. “Uh. . . Pretty sick place you've got here.”

“It's my bedroom.”

“Your cabin, you mean.”

You level your eyes at him. “My bedroom.”

He stares back at you. His face is mischievous. Does that make any sense? He just has the expression of someone who could potentially burn the entire world to the ground, a smile sharp as knives, eyes bright and glittering.

Finally, he hums and says, “Okay. Well, thank you very much for saving my backside out there; I don't usually like my first impressions to consist of screaming, but here we are.”

“Why were you screaming?”

He raises a hand as if to silence you and starts pacing back and forth for absolutely no reason. “That is a secret. Top secret. I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

“Or I'd have to kill you.”

He pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I suppose. But less talk about murder, please, and more talk about why you just did that.”

Your stomach curls. “You looked. . . in trouble.”

Leo blinks. “I mean, good observation, but half the people with toddlers out there looked like they were in trouble, too, and you didn't shove them to the front of the line and give them a free ticket to. . .” He pauses, looking round your room like he expects to find a map of your route hung on the wall. “Where is this thing going, anyway?”

“Northern Ireland,” you reply. “You didn't know that?”

“I just saw a big transportation device and hopped right on it.”

This conversation just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

And this boy is weird, too, but in an endearing type of way. You watch from the door as he walks back and forth, picking up tiny ornaments, examining them with a slight frown on his face. At one point, he picks up your laptop and closes his eyes, before shaking his head and saying, “It's on its last legs,” and you're too stunned to even respond.

Finally, it gets too much. You dart forward and snatch a pair of socks out of his surprisingly strong hands, tossing them on your bed. His eyes snap up, wide and startled.

“Tell me what you were running from,” you demand.

Leo frowns, slowly letting his hands drop back to his sides. “I already told you-”

“Top secret, yes, I heard, but we both know that's bullshit-”

“You do curse like a sailor!”

You slap his shoulder. He laughs, pulling away. “I'm serious! I'm freaking out right now, alright? If my parents find out I let you on this boat, they're going to throw me overboard!”

Leo rolls his eyes. “They're not going to find out. I'll stay super extra hidden, how does that sound?”

“How are you gonna do that? You need a place to sleep-”

“I can sleep in the engine room if you just show me where that is.”

You raise a brow. “No one can sleep in the engine room; it gets very hot in there. You'll probably die from the heat.”

Leo's eyes sparkle with what you can only recognise as amusement. “Well, lucky for me, I'm also very hot. I'll balance it out.”

“I'm serious.”

Leo groans. “Listen – you've done enough. You got me on the boat in the first place, so you can forget about me now, alright? I'll take matters into my own hands.”

“You realise this is my house, right? I'm not just going to let you walk around; god knows what you'll get up to.”

“The gods set me up in the first place.”

You blink. “What?”

Leo shakes his head, curls bouncing. “Nothing. My point is, I will be fine. I'll go play some table tennis with the retired ones out on the games deck, yeah? What harm could I possibly be doing?”

You stare at him; it would be so stupid of you to just let him do whatever, but it was stupid dragging him on this boat in the first place – what's one more mistake going to do?

You sigh and nod. “Fine. But please pretend you know me; if my parents ask-”

“I'll say you fancy me and you wanted to impress me, it's fine. I've got this!”

“No, that's not-”

Leo walks towards the door, not once looking back. “I've got this-” He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle as he turns his neck to look at you. “What's your name again?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

Leo grins. “I've got this, Y/N L/N. You can trust me.”

----

You should never have trusted him.

Arnold doesn't always come banging on your door at nine in the morning, but when he does, you can safely assume the ship is going down. You've hit an ice berg. All hell is breaking loose and there is a ninety percent chance you are going to die.

So when you are awoken this morning by the sound of him yelling your name, his fists slamming against the mahogany door, you're fairly certain this is it; you are going to die.

You bolt upright, blinking rapidly. “What? What is it?”

He stumbles into the room, wrinkled face bright red, sweat dripping down his temples. Slowly waking up lets you realise the ship isn't rocking quite as bad as it should be if you were going down.

You rub your eyes. “What the hell, Arnold? What's going on?”

He speaks through gritted teeth, spittle spraying everywhere. “That friend of yours, Leo Valdez; get him under control before I throw him overboard.”

You blink, certain you've heard him wrong. For just a moment, you've completely forgotten who Leo Valdez actually is, but the moment of peace is shattered when the realisation dawns on you. Yesterday. Bringing that strange boy onto the ship, claiming he was your friend.

Fuck.

You stumble out of bed and follow Arnold all the way to the bridge.

“Why are we here?” you demand, even though you already know the answer, even though you can already hear Leo yelling up above.

Arnold doesn't respond; he simply shoves you forward and lets you take control of the situation, which is overall just a bad decision on his part. Still dressed in your pyjamas, you stumble through the door, your stomach dropping once you see Leo standing beside Anna, the ships captain, his head bent over the controls, his voice loud.

“The alignment is way off,” he says. “If you'd just let me have a touch of the wheel, I could-”

Anna shoves her shoulder into Leo's chest. “Would you fuck off? Who even let you in here?”

“I found my way here,” Leo replies. “Because I couldn't help but notice that the alignment on your ship is shit, and-”

You rush forward and grab his arm, pulling him away from Anna before the tall ginger girl can backhand him overboard. Leo stumbles into your grip, whirling around with a frown that quickly morphs into a big, cheeky grin once he sees you.

“Y/N L/N! My friend! You'll tell your captain here that she should let me have a look at the wheel so I can-”

“Leo, what the hell are you doing in here? Passengers aren't allowed on the bridge!”

Leo frowns.

“You are a passenger, remember?” you hiss. “Now, let's go before-”

He shakes his head, slowly turning back to the wheel. Your grip tightens on his arm, ready to pull him back if need be. “I'm sorry, Y/N, but do you know how dangerous it is driving a ship with wonky wheel alignment?”

“We'll call the mechanic in.” You tug his arm. “Let's go, Leo, seriously-”

“Why would you waste time doing all that when I could just-”

��Y/N, get him out of here.”

You groan, finally putting all of your strength behind the next pull on his arm. It's enough to have him stumbling out of the bridge behind you, and you kick the door closed before he can even think of turning back and continuing with his havoc.

He whirls on you as soon as the door is shut, Anna rushing to lock it. “I just wanted to help!”

“Leo, do you know how dangerous it is for someone to be distracting the captain whilst she's driving?” You shake your head, running your hands through your hair. “How long have you been awake?”

“Oh, many hours. Many, many hours. It's hard to sleep when-”

“When a ship's wheel alignment is off, yes, we all heard you!”

Leo huffs, folding his arms over his chest; he looks like a toddler, lower lip jutted out, eyes lowered as he kicks the toe of his boot into the floor. His curls dip into his eyes. He looks kind of cute like this.

You look away. “What happened to you just staying on the games deck with the retired old people?”

“Mildred beat me at ping pong last night and told me not to come back.”

“Leo...”

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Okay, I get it. I stepped out of line. I do that when I'm on edge.”

You raise a brow. “Why are you on edge?”

He doesn't respond, which just irks you even more. Trying to get a straight answer out of him is seemingly impossible, so you don't even know why you're bothering – but you are. He just confuses you. There's so much you want to ask, but very little he's willing to share, and you suppose that's fair. It's up to him who he shares his secrets with.

You decide to start small. “How could you tell the ships alignment was off?”

A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, like it's a funny story. “I just know. It's kind of a special skill of mine.”

“Oh? You spend a lot of time on boats?”

“No.” He pauses. “Well, not technically, but I built a boat once.”

You blink, certain you heard him wrong. “Sorry?”

“The Argo II it was called,” he continues. “I loved that thing.”

You look at him; he can't be much older than you, surely, and that is much too young to be creating entire ships. You've barely finished school.

“You built a ship?” you parrot.

Leo nods, distractedly looking at the soft play area on the games deck. Even at this time of morning, children are running and screaming as they dive from the top of it, landing in the soft blocks at the bottom.

You, however, turn all your attention on Leo. “You're insane, you know.”

“I've had my suspicions.”

“I'm serious; you've just told me you built a ship. Like, an entire vessel, and you're acting like it's no big deal.”

“It isn't a big deal.” Leo smirks, nudging you with his arm. “Unless, you know, you want it to be a big deal, then I will gladly take the praise.”

“It is incredible.” You catch yourself and frown. “But you're still insane.”

Leo laughs. It's a pleasant noise, a little high pitched, a little maniacal, but you find yourself smiling at the sound of it. It ends in a happy little “aaaah,” before Leo turns to you and says, “I really am sorry, by the way. I'll try and stay out of trouble from now on.”

“Thank you, Leo,” you reply. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Just at that moment, his stomach awakens, growling loudly. He claps his hands against his abdomen and frowns, before turning to you and saying, “Apparently not.”

“Come on.” You grab his hand and start towards the canteen. “I'll get Esmerelda to make us some breakfast.”

----

Leo can actually be a lot of fun when he isn't trying to rip the controls of the ship from the captain's hands.

He's funny, which is one thing you didn't expect; he just seemed too jittery in the beginning, forever fiddling with that piece of scrap metal, eyes darting back and forth, like his brain was never working at anything less than one hundred miles an hour.

He's also very polite, with the occasional sarcastic comment thrown in the direction of someone who looked at him weirdly, which there seems to be a lot of. As the two of you stroll through the ship together, you can't help noticing the eyes that follow you, and honestly, you don't really blame them. Leo certainly is a bit different; he walks with this skip in his step, and his voice is always really loud, even when there's nothing to be loud about. He's still dressed in his oil stained overalls, his curls bouncing around his head with little to no care.

You don't know why you find it so endearing.

The two of you spent the day doing everything, and that is no exaggeration. You played ping pong, despite Mildred's protestations that the gaming deck wasn't big enough for both her and Leo. You ate ice cream. In fact, you ate everything, until Arnold was telling you to slow down and make room for dinner later.

Dinner which you missed as you decided to spend the evening with Leo.

He took you down to the engine room, claiming to have put some AC in there that wouldn't affect the mechanisms of the boat, but would simply cool the room down enough for him to sleep there.

“Not like I need it,” he says, flicking on the lights in the corridor leading to the engine room. “I can handle heat.”

“There's no way you installed an AC system into the engine room in a night,” you reply. “You're not that good.”

Leo smiles playfully. “See, that's where everyone goes wrong – they underestimate me.” With that, he pushes open the engine room door, revealing everything beyond – the whirring machines, the chugging engines, the steam billowing from contraptions you don't even know the name of, which is a little bit shameful considering you've lived amongst this stuff your entire life.

Where there should be smouldering heat, there is no such thing. Leo steps into the room and sighs in bliss, closing his eyes. You watch the curls blow away from his forehead. You reach forward, testing the air with your hand.

Your eyes widen at the feel of cold air brushing against your fingertips.

“How did you. . . Is this real?”

Leo opens his eyes and grins, grabbing your outstretched hand and pulling you in after him. “I told you I was good.”

“Leo, this is . . . You did this in a night?”

“I did this in. . .” He frowns, glancing at his invisible wrist watch. “About three hours. It was easy enough once I figured out where you keep all your tools.”

You can't even begin to form words; it's such a simple thing, an AC, but this boy is the same age as you, and he has been here not even a full twenty four hours, and yet he's improving the ship in more ways than you would have dreamed of.

You turn to him. He looks right back at you. “You're quite good with tools, aren't you?”

“You could say that.”

“Where did you learn all of this?”

“My dad.”

You raise a brow. “Is he a mechanic?”

Leo smiles; he does that a lot, though you're yet to learn why. “No. He's in the – uh – higher up's, I guess you could say. My mum was the mechanic.”

“Was?”

Leo's smile fades. He coughs and turns away. “Yeah. Was. Now, how about I show you where I slept last night?”

Without any elaboration, Leo starts towards the back of the room, the hottest part of the entire ship. You remember your dad warning you, time and time again, never to step foot in the engine room at all, but especially not this part of it. You smell the smoke billowing from the coal shafts, hidden behind insulation. You feel the heat, even through the AC, pressing against your skin.

Once you've walked far enough into the room for the heat to be prominent again, Leo reaches back to stop you going any further. Without looking at you, he says, “Don't think you can go much further than that, I'm afraid; I'll take it from here. I need to grab a few things.”

You grab his hand. “Wait, you can't-”

He shakes you off him and steps deeper into the engine room. Your chest constricts, panic seizing you; only professionals have ever wandered this deep into the ships depths, because they know what they're doing. They wear the protective gear. They've trained for years.

Leo hasn't even been on the ship an entire day.

“Leo!” you call out, stepping forward as much as you dare. “Leo, this isn't funny! Come back here!”

“I'm fine.”

The sound of his voice, unharmed and unwavering, makes the breath leave you. You slouch against the wall, craning your neck in any attempt to see where he is, but you only catch glimpses of his dark curls as he parades back and forth, the sound of metal on metal being heard with absolutely no context.

You don't understand how anyone can walk so deep into what is essentially a pit of flames and come out unscathed; what's even weirder is the fact that Leo slept in there last night.

“Please keep talking to me,” you call. “If my dad finds out I let you in here-”

Leo pops his head around the corner, grinning from ear to ear. Black soot stains his nose, but besides that, he looks unharmed. Around his waist is a velvet tool belt that he definitely was not wearing before. You frown, gesturing towards it vaguely.

Leo looks down as if only just noticing he'd put the thing on. “Oh, this. It's my tool belt.”

“Yes, I can see that. But. . . why?”

Leo shrugs and walks past you. “It's special. Shall we go? Now that you've seen I'm not actually lying when I say I put an AC in-”

“Which is still insane, by the way.”

“You've said.”

Together, the two of you clamber out of the engine room and walk back to the deck. The dinner crowds are just starting to disperse now, people heading out onto the main outdoor deck for a few after dinner drinks with the family. Toddlers are perched on parents shoulders, falling asleep after such a feast. Around you, the lamps are being turned on to illuminate the impending darkness that will soon ensue.

Leo hums thoughtfully, gazing up at one of the lamps; it's flickering.

“That one's always been like that,” you say. “Nobody's come to fix it. Nobody really minds it.”

“It puts the aesthetic off a little bit, doesn't it?” He shakes his head, stopping right in front of it. “No, we can't let that continue.”

“What are you-”

He reaches into his tool belt and pulls out a light bulb – just one, the perfect size and shape for the lamps lining the deck. You narrow your eyes, jaw dropping open as Leo starts climbing onto the railing, reaching his small arms above his head to get to work on the lamp in question.

“Hold my legs, will you?” he calls down to you.

And even though you're in a daze, growing only more and more confused by this strange man, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around his knees, keeping him from slipping off the edge of the deck and into the murky waters below.

In seconds, the bulb has been changed and the lamp is working just fine. Leo hops back down beside you, grinning brightly as he tucks his screw driver back into his tool belt.

You hook a finger through the pocket, tugging him closer so you can peak inside; at first glance, it looks empty, but you're certain that can't be right – he's just put his screw driver inside it. He's just pulled a light bulb out of it. How can it be empty?

Leo laughs, gently prying your fingers off. “I told you it's special.”

“Where did the screw driver go?”

He presses his index finger to his lips. You scowl, swatting his arm until he throws his head back in laughter.

“I'm glad you're enjoying yourself,” you grumble.

Leo nudges you, his laughter slowly descending into a simple chuckle. “Oh, lighten up. The screwdriver is in there.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.”

“Who are you, Leo Valdez? Where the hell have you come from?”

He swipes his tongue along the inside of his cheek, deep in thought for a moment. Finally, he turns to you and says, “I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

“Or I'd have to kill you.”

His eyes sparkle. “Or that, yes.”

----

“We don't even know what they are. We've never had a warning signal like this before.”

“Let me see.”

Your dad shoves to the front and ducks his head down to see into the flashing screen in the control room; an emergency alarm had gone off in your room only moments before, startling you from a peaceful sleep. Another night spent traipsing through the ship with Leo had left you utterly exhausted, but hearing that high pitched beep woke you into full alert. You joined both your parents and the rest of the crew in the control room in seconds.

“It's in the shape of a trident,” Arthur, one of the control experts, says, pointing at the glowing trident flashing on screen. “What could that even mean? Who's sending that?”

Your dad frowns. “I have no idea. Is it some kind of prank?”

“There are no other boats around for miles, sir. None are even showing up on the radar.”

You fiddle with your fingers. You hate this unpredictability, especially when you're so far out to sea. There is nobody here to help you if all goes wrong, and anyone who can help is miles away; the ship will surely be in tatters by the time anyone can reach you.

Your dad sighs, raking his nimble fingers through his slowly greying hair. “It's okay. It's okay. We'll figure it out.” He turns and catches your eye, stopping midway. “Y/N, go back to bed.”

“What's happening?” you ask.

“Nothing terrible.” He places a hand on your shoulder, gazing into your eyes lovingly, but it doesn't matter how he wants to play it off – you can recognise fear in your fathers eyes, and it's there now. He hates the unpredictability just as much as you do. “Go back to bed and get some sleep; if anything happens, I'll come wake you in plenty of time.”

“What about the passengers?”

He raises a brow. “Is this about your little friend Leo? Arnold was telling me all about him.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you flick your eyes to the floor.

Your dad sighs, squeezing your shoulder. “The passengers will be safe, too, Y/N. I wouldn't have kept my family on this ship if we didn't have the most state of the art safety precautions put in place. It's going to be fine. Don't stress about it.”

Don't stress.

That's so easy for him to say having been trained in the art of keeping a straight face for other people. You, not so much.

Nonetheless, you leave the control room and head back out onto the deck. Your exhaustion is finally starting to creep up on you, but you know you won't be able to sleep. You'll sit in bed, tossing and turning with the waves, and your night will be made into hell; you don't really fancy that right now.

And so, you walk along the outside deck, hair blowing around, the lanterns up above illuminating the path you have memorised by now; in fact, you truly think you would be able to walk through this very area in pitch darkness without a care in the world. The metal beneath your feet is so familiar, holding stories from your childhood, bringing you back to a time when you would walk across here, holding your parents hands, wondering why on earth anyone would want to live life on land over the sea.

“I thought you'd gone to bed.”

Your eyes snap up. You have to narrow them to see clearly, but you can make out the shape of Leo Valdez sitting on the edge of the railing, his feet dangling over the water, his knuckles white with his grip. His curls are windswept, brushed over his forehead. His cheeky smile is on full show, his glittering eyes running up and down your form before finally meeting your own.

He frowns when he sees your expression.

Quickly you avert your gaze, tucking your hands into the pockets of your massive hoodie; you don't even know where you got it from, just that you found it laying on the floor and threw it on before barrelling through the halls to see what all the commotion was about.

“Is that my hoodie?”

Your cheeks heat up despite the cold night chill. “No.”

“Pretty sure it is.”

“So what?”

“Looks good on you.”

You mumble a thank you.

“You gonna tell me what's got you so glum?”

You hollow out your cheeks, kicking a pretend stone. You imagine it flicking beneath the railing, landing in the water to make those mini waves you were once so fond of.

The railing creaks as Leo turns his body to face you. “Hey. You alright?”

“I'm okay,” you mumble. “Can I sit up there with you?”

Leo holds out his arms. You waddle over, letting him pull you onto the railing beside him. Once you're seated, he keeps one arm around your waist, holding you close to ensure you don't fall head first into the water; you should probably let him know that you used to sit on this very railing every single night, that you know how to keep yourself up, but you don't. You instead move a little closer to him.

“What's on your mind, champ?” he asks, jokingly ruffling your hair.

You scrunch up your nose, swatting his hand away. “Just worried, that's all.”

“Worried about what?”

“The ship. The journey. We got a warning signal sent through to us, but no one on the crew knows what it means; they've never seen it before.”

Leo's eyebrows knit together. “How have they never seen it before?”

You shrug. “I've been asking myself that, too. My only guess is that someone's hacked the system from another boat and is sending random symbols through to mess with us, but Arthur said there's not another boat for miles.”

“What did this warning signal look like?”

“It was like that. . . that thing.”

Leo leans forward, meeting your eyes; he looks almost desperate, his tan skin suddenly pale. “What thing?”

“You know.” You click your fingers, trying desperately to remember the name. “That thing that god used to hold all the time. The . . . The big water stick.”

Leo's eyes flash. He jerks back, arm falling from your waist so fast you nearly tumble into the water. “A trident?”

“That's the word.”

“Oh, gods.”

Before you can say or do anything, Leo spins around and hops off the railing. He reaches up and grabs you, pulling you back into his chest, setting you on the floor despite your squeal of shocked protest.

“Leo, what the-”

“Go back to your cabin and don't leave,” he demands. “I mean it, Y/N. Lock the doors if you have to. Only come out when I say.”

You blink, completely lost by now. Part of you wants to burst out laughing, certain all of this is some big joke, but Leo's eyes are wide, and he's breathing heavily, and you've never seen him act like this. Ever.

“Leo...”

“Go, Y/N!” He scrapes one hand through his hair, the other dipped into his tool belt. He mutters to himself as he pulls out the most random of things; bubble wrap, a pack of Tik Taks, a Stephen King book, multiple wrenches, one of which he throws overboard as his frustration grows.

You grab his wrist. “Please explain what's going on.”

His eyes shoot up. “I don't. . . . I can't really explain it without sounding crazy.”

“You sound crazy all the time.”

“Fair.” He pauses, glancing around nervously, before he leans in and says, “You ever heard about the Greek gods?”

You pull away, frowning. “Leo, I'm being serious. You looked really scared-”

“Have you ever heard about the Greek gods, Y/N? I'm asking a serious question.”

“Of course I have, but-”

“Heard of Hephaestus?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well, I call him dad.”

You blink. Leo doesn't stop moving, continuing the search for whatever he's looking for inside his never ending tool belt. Under his breath, he mutters, “Please, please, please don't let it be them. Please, please, please.”

Your silence must span an awful long time, though it only feels like seconds before Leo is flicking his eyes up, frowning and saying, “Why are you still standing there?”

“What the hell does Hephaestus – the Greek guy – have to do with the warning signal we got?”

“Oh, yeah, I could explain that, I guess.” He tugs another wrench out of his pocket and rolls his eyes, tossing it into the ocean. “That makes me a demigod; my mum's a mortal, my dad's. . . . Hephaestus. That means loads of monsters are constantly on my ass literally all the time.” He sends a pointed glare at the ocean. “I must have done something to tick off the sea nymphs-”

“Sea nymphs?”

“Because they've all been trying to kill me for weeks!”

You shake your head. “Is that what you were running away from-”

“When you saved me? Yes, it was, and thank you for that, really. Means a lot.” He grabs your arm, swirling you towards the exit. “Now, please let me return the favour by staying in your cabin.”

He pushes you forward. You stumble, catching yourself on the door before spinning back to face him. “So you think these. . . these sea nymphs have found you? That's what the warning signal was?”

“It makes the most sense,” Leo replies. “Rookie mistake on their part; they're giving me a lovely head start on-”

Something slams into the underside of the ship.

You're thrown into Leo, chest smashing against chest, chins smashing against chins. You're a tangle of limbs when you land on the floor, Leo on his back with you on top of him. Neither of you have a chance to even be embarrassed, though, before a melodic voice is drifting up from the waves, so appealing that it nearly drives you directly over the edge just to go and find it. It lifts your spirits. Everything is right in the world so long as you continue to hear this lovely, lovely voice. . .

“Snap out of it!” Leo grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet. “Okay, so they have definitely found me.”

“Come to us, son of Hephaestus, and we shall spare the innocent mortals on this ship.”

Leo groans. “Always with the bargaining! Can't you guys just die already?”

Your eyes widen. Your hands are trembling. This is too much for you to handle. “Leo, please don't make them angry.” You glance over the railing, seeing nothing but the swirling waters below. “Uh, hello, friendly sea nymphs; he doesn't mean that. He's a little bit cranky right now because he hasn't slept much, but I promise-”

Leo hisses, tugging you away from the edge. “Would you just-”

Another wave crashes against the ship, knocking you and Leo to the side. Your shoulder slams into the glass, and this time, the sirens go off. The entire ship is notified of danger. Soon, every deck on the ship will be flooded with innocent people, people who have no idea that any of this is going on, people who could potentially be in danger if these mystical sea nymphs don't get exactly what they're asking for.

Leo curses, scrambling upright. “Okay, maybe we don't have as much of a head start as I thought we did.”

“You think?”

Another wave. Your feet slip from beneath you, sending you sprawling. Leo cries out your name, scrambling for your hand, but he's just as drenched as you are. He slips, crashing to his knees as you slide down the length of the deck, scrambling for anything to hold onto. Eventually, your feet crash against a barrel lodged against the wall, stopping your impending doom for a few moments longer. Below, passengers are screaming, and you can't even bring yourself to think about what is happening to them, what they must be seeing right now.

“Leo!” you cry out, choking on water. “Leo, where are you?”

“Leo Valdez is ours,” the melodic voice chimes in. “He has taken our existence as a joke for far too long; it's about time our people show him some respect.”

“Okay, okay!” You gag, fighting to keep your head above the waves splashing into your face. “I get it! He's a little shit, but please, give him one more chance. I'll – I'll keep him in check as best I can. I'll-”

“We don't want to hear it.”

The ship rocks again. People scream. One more hit, and you're certain they're gonna go through the hull. One more hit, and this entire ship is going to go down, taking thousands of innocent passengers – and Leo – down with it.

You can't let that happen.

With difficulty, you lift yourself from the grip of the waves coursing along the deck. You do one final check for Leo, but he is nowhere to be seen – you can't even hear him, which really just confirms the severity of this situation. You need to do something quick.

You say a silent prayer to Hephaestus, and you feel stupid for it, but you're willing to do anything right now just to make sure you get to see Leo's face again, that stupid grin of his, those bouncing curls you never got to touch because you were always so afraid it would seem too intimate.

“Please save your son. Please let him be okay.”

You spin on your heel and dart towards the exit.

Throwing yourself into a crowd of screaming people is jarring, but you push through. Shoving your shoulder into anyone who gets in the way, you sprint for the bridge. You throw open the door, grab Anna's shoulders and push her out of the way. She stumbles, but she doesn't even have the energy to say anything to you; when you glance at her, you can see her pale face and wide eyes, her hands trembling as she utters, “I don't know what's happening,” over and over, a woman traumatised before she's even seen the severity of the danger.

You turn back to the wheel and inhale deeply. You've done this before. You know what these controls mean. You have gripped this wheel plenty of times, steered this boat enough times to know what to do. Your hands tremble. Your mind is blank, but maybe that's for the best.

You grip the wheel. As soon as your hands make contact, that voice drifts back into your consciousness, startling you to reality.

“Son of Hephaestus is ours. In a battle, water always wins over fire.”

You grit your teeth and yank the steering wheel. Passengers scream, but it's not their screams you're focused on. In the back of your mind, like the sea nymphs are right behind you, you can hear them squealing as the ship is yanked from whatever grip they have on it; you like to imagine you broke their arms or something.

“Curse you!” they screech. “Mind your own business, mortal!”

You yank the wheel again. Anna flies across the room, crashing against the window, screaming your name, but you have to keep going. You have to dislodge the ship from their magic before they take over entirely.

You yank the wheel one last time, and finally the ship lurches forward. Passengers scream. Anna starts sobbing desperately, begging you for mercy, and the sound is heart-breaking; you don't understand why she can't hear the sea nymphs herself, because when they speak, they are clear as day in your head.

“I'm sorry,” you grit out. “I'll explain later.”

And then you slam your hand into that big red button on the dashboard. The propellers erupt, jumping into high gear. In your head, the sea nymphs scream. Outside, an explosion rocks the ocean, shaking the ship just a little bit before you press the engine button and send the ship forward.

For a second, the world is quiet. Your headache fades away. The passengers are all silent, waiting for the next heart wrenching move to be made.

You pry your hands off the wheel, spin on your heel and sprint out of the bridge.

On deck, people cower on the floor. There are head wounds, and unconscious individuals, and you promise you'll apologise to all of them individually when you next see them, but for now, you need to see Leo. You need to make sure he's okay. You need to know that none of that was in vain.

You sprint back to the outdoor deck, slipping only briefly on the water still crowded upon it. The ship rocks back and forth gently now, sloshing the water over the edge, making it easier to wade through it in search of the Valdez boy.

“Leo!” you cry out. “Leo, where are you?”

For just a moment, nothing happens. You are convinced the deck is empty. The tears erupt to the surface, spilling over your eyelids before you can stop them, because you're certain you've failed. You got rid of the sea nymphs – only by the grace of god – but you were too late to save Leo.

And then something flickers in the far corner, just behind an overturned barrel.

You squint, heart stopping in your chest. Part of you thinks you imagined it. That is until the flames flicker again, followed shortly by a groan of protest.

You gasp and dart forward. You slip to your knees in the water, grabbing the barrel and rolling it out the way. Laying on his side beneath it is Leo, blood pooling from his side, a tiny flame dancing in the palm of his hand.

You don't even question the fire right now – you can't. You press your trembling palms to the wound in his hip, biting your bottom lip in any attempt to look tough, but it's really no use – you're terrified. You don't know what you just did, how much damage you just caused, but you know for a fact it's going to take a lot of explaining to get you out of this one. You can already hear Arnold scolding you for letting Leo onto the boat, into your life. Someone like him is such a bad influence.

But then his soft brown eyes flicker open, and you don't really care.

A sob slips from your lips. Tears slip down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice wobbles, on the verge of cracking.

“I thought you were dead. I thought I was too late, Leo.”

He groans, more like a man getting out of bed than a man who's just had a piece of timber sliced through his hip. “I will be if you don't get me some nectar right now.”

You pull back. “What?”

“Nectar.” He clicks his fingers and points at his tool belt. “In there. Grab it for me, will you?”

You dip your trembling hands into his belt, plucking out a gold bar about the size of your index finger. As soon as Leo sees it's unwrapped, he snatches it from your hand and pops the entire thing in his mouth, sighing in bliss once he's swallowed it.

“You can let go of me now,” he says.

“Huh?”

He chuckles weakly, before wrapping his soft, gentle fingers around your wrists and pulling your hands away from his hip. Instead of letting you go, however, he holds them close to his chest, leaning his chin on your knuckles so the two of you can watch as the wound stitches itself up in slow motion.

Your heart thunders. “So you weren't lying when you said you were the son of Hephaestus.”

“I wish I had been lying.”

“I think it's pretty cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly. “Just don't be bringing that sort of trouble to my door again, or I'll throw you overboard.”

----

Leo got his own cabin once your parents saw the damage he took.

You were able to play it off as him having no part in the havoc. To your parents, and everybody else concerned, Leo was nothing more than a victim in the entire ordeal. Your parents lodged him in one of the spare cabins, giving him the medical treatment he needed, despite the nectar doing most of the job for him. All he was really suffering with was a bit of muscle pain, but for the size of wound he suffered with, you feel like he got away lucky in the end.

You've been visiting him most nights, just because. His company is nice, and he seems to enjoy yours, and the two of you get on really well. You kind of dread the day you're going to dock in Northern Ireland, the day he's going to clamber off the boat and never look back. He'll probably forget about you.

That thought really, really hurts, so you try not to think about it.

Today, you decide to bring him some croissants Anna made. The plate balanced in your hand, you raise your other one to knock on his cabin door, only to freeze when you hear someone else's voice ringing through the dimly lit corridor.

“So they just. . . killed the sirens on their own? Where the hell were you, Valdez?”

“I already told you, Jason, I was completely out of it. I got hit with a wave and went flying backwards, right into a piece of broken wood. It went through me.”

“Still. It's not everyday a mortal takes on a mythological monster on their own; how did they even see them?”

Leo sighs. His bed springs creak. “I have no idea, but it was incredible. They're incredible.”

Your heart flutters, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Sounds like you've lost the battle, Valdez,” the unfamiliar voice says.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. It sounds like you really like them.”

Leo pauses. Your heart thunders; you shouldn't be so anxious to hear his response, but you'd be lying to claim otherwise.

“I do.”

You close your eyes, biting your lower lip.

“Gods, Jason, I think I do. I don't even want to get off this boat.”

“Man, you can't just go travelling through the sea your entire life.”

“I know. I know.” Leo sighs again. “Maybe they'll agree to come with me; you guys are still sending that chariot to come pick me up from Northern Ireland, right?”

“That's still the plan, yes.”

“Do you think Y/N will come with me?”

This Jason fellow pauses. Part of you wants to burst in the room and cry out “OF COURSE I'LL GO WITH YOU” but you hold yourself back, because would you really ever leave?

Yes. Yes, you would.

“Ask them,” Jason finally says. “But Leo, you realise long distance could work, right?”

Leo scoffs. “Slow down there, pal. I don't even know if they like me back.”

“You just told me you saw them crying over you when you came to.”

“Emotions were high. They'd just killed some sea nymphs for the first time.”

“Take it from me, Leo – they like you. All evidence points towards it.”

Leo grumbles something beneath his breath before finally saying, “They'll probably be here soon, man, so I should go.”

“Oh yes. The nightly visit. Have fun. Be safe.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye.”

Jason laughs. “Bye.”

You take a few moments just to breathe; you're overjoyed, which is a weird feeling for you to have. The days following the sea nymph attack, you spent the majority of your time either in Leo's cabin or your own, struggling to come to terms with everything you did, all the people you hurt, the truth that was brought to your attention. It was such a struggle getting your head around it, and trying to certainly put you in a slump.

But hearing this piece of good news has lifted your spirits, if just a little bit.

Once you believe you've gathered your wits, you knock on Leo's door. He says, “Hellooooo?” and you enter, giving him the most subtle smile you can muster whilst showing off the plate of croissants.

He sits up in his bed, the quilt falling from his chest; he's wearing a pair of cloud patterned pyjamas, provided by the laundry department of the crew. He rubs his eyes, trying to pretend he's just woken up, even though you know better than to believe him.

You place the croissants on the table beside him before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He smiles at you, warm and a little bit awkward, so unlike the smiles he usually gives you. You can only assume it has something to do with the conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on.

“What's wrong?”

His smile falters. “What?”

“You look a little weird.” You lean back against the footboard, folding your arms over your chest. “Something you want to tell me, Leonardo Valdez?”

“That's really not my name.”

You raise a brow, waiting for him to answer the question.

He stares back at you, an eyebrow arched. “I really have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Who's Jason?”

Leo isn't even smiling any more – his expression is one of complete dread. “Are you kidding?”

You giggle, nudging his foot. “Who is he? A friend of yours? He seems nice. Can I talk to him?”

Leo throws his head back, crinkling his eyes shut as his cheeks burn a bright red colour. “Don't start. Did you actually hear all that?”

“I was outside the door with my croissants. Heard every word.”

“I'm gonna throw myself overboard.”

“You can't do that.”

Leo cracks open an eye, glaring at you like you've done something wrong. “I'll do whatever I damn well find necessary.”

“If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to go to Northern Ireland with you.”

Leo's head snaps up. “Wait-”

But you push on. “If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to tell you that I like you, too.”

“Y/N-”

“If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to kiss you.”

Leo swallows, eyes dipping to your lips. “Okay. You've got me convinced.”

You kiss him.

His hands travel to your jaw, calloused fingertips like butterfly kisses against your jaw bone. Your own hands find their way into his curls, a place they've wanted to be from the very day you met him. The kiss is small, timid, testing the waters more than anything else, but it's perfect just the way it is. Leo grins against your lips like he's won some award, the cat who got the cream. You're half tempted to pull away and tell him to stop being so cocky, but you decide against it when the feel of his lips drags you back to the moment.

You pull away. “You should have told me you liked me.”

“It works both ways.”

“Fair.”

Leo scoots over, patting the free space next to him. You bundle yourself beneath the covers, shoulder-to-shoulder with him, facing the cabin window; together, you watch the sea rise and fall, rise and fall, sending the mildly damaged boat to it's final destination.

“I can fix the hull, you know,” he says. “It'll take me an hour at most.”

“I know you can.” You tilt your head against his, inhaling deeply. “But I think I like you here a bit better.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “Guess I'm bedridden for a bit longer, then.”

----

Northern Ireland is really pretty.

Leo Valdez is even prettier.

He holds your hand as the two of you get off the boat. An emotional goodbye to your parents (and Arnold) has left your eyes puffy and your mood a little dipped, but your spirits are slowly beginning to rise with the realisation that a brand new chapter in your life has finally opened, and Leo is there to help you navigate through it.

He squeezes your fingers as the two of you stand on the harbour, watching your home drift back to New York. The stars sprinkle the sky, little rips in the night sky, slightly dulled by the street lights dotting the Belfast docks.

“You'll be back there soon,” Leo says. “I promise. I haven't kidnapped you.”

You laugh. You're always laughing with Leo. “I know. It's just different.”

“Yeah. I can imagine.”

You swipe a hand beneath your eyes. Your home is now a mere dot in the distance. “Are your friends here yet?”

“Probably.” Leo glances at his non existent wristwatch. “I can imagine they'll be making a pretty bold entrance right. . . about. . . now.”

On queue, a golden ball of light emerges from the night sky. You flick your eyes around desperately, but the harbour is completely clear besides you, Leo and the dock worker who is too busy tapping away on his iPad to pay much attention to the spiralling ball of gold currently impending upon the dock.

The chariot crashes to the floor, shaking the trees and the wood beneath it. Leo is grinning, his hand squeezing your own a little tighter in his excitement; it's been weeks since he last saw his friends, and from the stories he's so keen on telling you, his friends are more like his family.

“That's them,” he needlessly points out.

Together, you walk to the golden chariot. Six other demigods spill out of it, two of them slapping each other's arms, bickering about something.

“-landed a little more gracefully.”

“Oh okay, Percy, how about next time, you try controlling the wind with Frank snoring behind you!”

“Maybe I will! I'd probably do a better job than-”

Leo raises his hand. “Hey guys!”

All six of the demigods spin around, their arguments now ceasing to exist as they catch sight of you and Leo. A girl with choppy, braided hair takes one look at your joined hands and immediately covers her cheeks, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, I thought Jason was lying!” She throws herself into Leo's arms. “I'm so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Pipes,” Leo grunts. “Good to see you, too.”

“And you!” 'Pipes' squeals, throwing herself into your arms next. “You're so pretty! How on the gods green earth did Leo catch your eye?”

“Woah, okay!” Leo pushes Piper away, scowling. “Leave them alone for a bit, alright? We're both tired.”

“I'm sure you are,” the blonde haired boy in the purple shirt chuckles. “Come on. How about we go get some McDonalds?”

The big dude with the baby face narrows his eyes, glancing over his shoulder at the golden chariot. “Can we get that through a drive through?”

“We can if I drive!” Percy exclaims, snatching the keys off the blonde boy and darting to the front seat.

The other demigods grumble their horrors, clearly not pleased with the idea of Percy driving, but they follow him anyway.

Leo and you hang back a little bit. Leo squeezes your hand. When you look over, he gives you a wary smile.

“Welcome to the family, I guess.”

137 notes · View notes

1a-imagines · 4 years

Text

Bunny band-aid.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya

Overview: You cant seem to catch a break lately and to top it all off you end up getting hurt! Luckily a cute hero is here to help patch you up!

A/n: Me and my friend were talking about dekus red bags that he keeps attached to his hips. She asked what i thought he keeps in them and i said probably first aid stuff and that spiralled into a long conversation about how cute it would be if he had little cartoon/bunny band-aids that he would give to people.

And well- how could I pass that up?

"Why does this always happen to me?" You whined as you hopped around your small apartment, simultaneously pulling up your skirt as you tried to slather your toast with butter.

This morning you had received an angry call from your boss, yelling at you to get in as soon as you could. They were slammed and ,sure, you could imagine that must be stressful for any boss but it feels like your boss in particular was a ticking time bomb.

It was best not to get on his bad side, and so you didn't argue with him about the fact it was suppost to be your one day off.

You also had to ignore all the angry texts from your family for having to cancel on dinner with them yet again. How many times did that make it now? 6? You felt like the worst person ever for letting them down so many times, but your work just kept getting in the way!

You keep telling yourself you'll make it up to them, but you never have the time.

You could feel yourself slowly breaking down but you put on your brave face knowing that you'd only be in more trouble if you showed up at work crying.

You quickly finished your toast and downed your coffee before grabbing your bag and rushing out the door. You ran down the stairs until you reached the street, almost tumbling over a few times.

Your job wasn't too far- if you were quick you could make it in 10 minutes and maybe your boss wouldn't fire you?

So you ran.

You ran all the way down the street, narrowly avoiding other pedestrians and jumping over a few stray cats. You felt like you were running so fast that stopping seemed impossible. Your legs were going faster than you could keep up with. This is the sheer amount power and fear your boss held over you.

What a jerk.

Just as you were running past the park you felt one of your feet get caught on a loose pavement slab. Your eyes went wide as a gasp escaped your lips. Your whole body flew forward and you watched helplessly as the ground beneath you got closer.

You held out your hands and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact. You grunted in pain when your body inevitably hit the hard concrete. You had fallen so hard that your body had even bounced off the ground and skidded to a harsh stop.

That was it.

That was the breaking point. You didn't even have the energy to push yourself up. You lay there, your knees and hands stinging as you let the tears run down your cheeks.

Why was the world so against you lately? Have you done something wrong? Did you really deserve this harsh fate?

Personally, you liked to think you always tried your best. That you gave everything you all and you always went out of your way to help people. Overall, you were a pretty good person.

So why has fate decided to punish you lately?

You forced yourself to push your body up onto your backside and that's when you noticed the contents of your bag had also spilled out onto the ground.

Great…

You sniffled and rubbed your stinging cheek to rid yourself of the tears "Why can't I catch a break…" you muttered solemnly.

Once you had finished your pity party you figured it would be best to push yourself up, but before you could move, the sound of fast paced steps coming in your direction caught your attention.

You saw a boy in a green costume running up to you. When he finally reached you he knelt down, his big eyes filled with worry. He was panting a bit too, showing he must have ran over to you pretty fast.

"Are you ok!? I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you! I saw you fall from across the park and ran as fast as I could." He apologized so sincerely it sounded as if he completely blamed himself for your fall. You were about to say that it was ok but he gasped, successfully cuttinf you off.

"You're bleeding!!" You followed his gaze to your hands and knees.

He was right, You most certainly were bleeding. However, that much was to be expected after such a harsh fall like that. It wasn't a whole lot though, Most of them were just scrapes, but they still stung.

"Hold still! I have some first aid on me. I'll clean and bandage it up for you!" He said, reaching into the red bags strapped to his hips and pulling out a bottle, a cloth, and some bandages.

"You're a hero?" You tilted your head. The costume, plus carrying first aid, made you guess he was. Although you had never seen him before, was he new? You were a pretty big hero fan and you had a feeling you would've remembered someone like him. He smiled softly as he poured the gauze onto the piece of cloth he had.

"Sort of… I'm in training." He paused and looked up into your eyes. "This might hurt a bit, if it hurts too bad just tell me to stop, ok?"

You nodded your head. He was so gentle and reassuring. If he was the future of heroes then it greatly comforted you. The hero society could really use people like him right now. Especially after All Might's retirement.

You hissed in pain when the liquid hit your open wound. Even though you were no longer a little kid it was still one of the worst pains in the world to have to clean up scrapes with that unholy liquid.

It hurt, but didn't want to stop him. He was being so careful and gentle with the way he applied it, it would've been kind of nice if it wasn't burning like a bitch.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on saving people who actually need it right now?" You asked, your voice sounded more bleak and horse than you liked. You could hear the hopelessness in your own voice and you didn't like it. He looked back up at you, that same small smile was still on his lips, had it ever left?

He stared deep into your eyes and it almost made your heart stop for a moment. "What kind of hero would I be if I left a pretty girl crying in the middle of the street?"

"Crying?" You reached up to feel your cheek. You were still crying? You hadn't even noticed. He had been distracting you from all the sadness of your life with just his smile alone. It was incredible…

Wait, did he call you pretty!?

"It must hurt, I know, but don't worry, I'll fix you right up!" He said.

He thought you were crying because of the pain? The pain wasn't so bad, nothing you couldn't handle anyway. These tears were from stress, from holding everything back for so long.

Though you weren't about to tell him that.

You watched him bandage up your hands which seemed to have taken the most damage from the fall. How could you work with bandages all over your hands? You were so going to get fired.

It was kind of sad that despite being hurt, all you could think about was inconveniencing your boss. It was an unhealthy mind set to have.

"What's your name?" His voice broke through your thoughts.

"Oh! Uh- Y/n." You replied shyly, the embarrassment crying in front of him was starting to seep in. You turned your head away when you felt your cheeks heating up. You'd never really been a person to cry in front of people. So this was really embarrassing for you.

"S-so, what about you? What's the name of my new hero?" You glanced over to him with a lopsided, bashful smile.

You saw him freeze at the sound of being called your hero, his cheeks turning the same shade as yours. Maybe even more so.

"O-oh, It's D-Deku." He stuttered out a reply as he finished wrapping up your hands.

He put the bottle and cloth back into the bags on his hips and pulled out a few bandaids. He took the paper off it and placed them over the scrapes on your knees.

"There! All done!" He pulled back and that's when you noticed the pattern on the bandaid. It had little bunnies on it!

'That's so adorable!' You inwardly squealed. Who would've guessed a hero would be carrying something as cute as this!

It made you gush.

"Thank you so much!" Ever since meeting him you had really perked up. Somehow, he had washed your worries away, maybe all you had really needed was to know that someone cared about you? That you weren't so alone?

Or maybe it was simply because it was the first nice encounter you've had in months! Which was saying a lot since you're legs and hands are currently bleeding.

He soon stood up, offering you a hand and pulling you up too.

"It's nothing! Really! You don't have to thank me!" He waved his hands in front of him shyly. It was like he wasn't used to people wanting to repay him.

Deku grabbed all the items that had fallen out of your bag and brushed the dirt off them before handing them back.

In all honesty, heroes were something a lot of people took for granted, but it was times like these that made you realise they were humans too.

His gesture may have been small but he had still made a big impact on your mood and on your day. You wanted to show your gratitude. After all, he didn't really have to come help you. Hero or not, he still could have walked away or ignored it.

"No! Really! I want to repay you somehow!" He had somehow made you feel the first thread of happiness- or was it hopefulness? That you had felt it for a while. It was so refreshing and he had helped you more than he was probably aware of.

Maybe there was also a small part of you that wanted to selfishly spend more time with him too. He was like a sudden breath of fresh air in your life and you weren't willing to let that go so easily.

"How about I buy you lunch?" You asked with a smile.

You phone began buzzing in your pocket and that's when you remembered you had work!! You pulled out your phone and upon seeing your boss's caller ID you felt your heart freeze. You could only imagine how pissed off he must be right now.

You looked up to see the worried face of your new hero, he must have caught on that something was wrong. Did he really care about you that much? You were nothing more than an acquaintance to him, and yet seeing you frown was clearing upsetting him too.

The world really did need more people like him.

You weren't sure where this sudden boldness had come from but you declined the call, and like that, weight on your shoulder was lifted. You shoved your phone away.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a bit special

You'll deal with the consequences later.

You smiled up at him. "Are you free right now?"

"Actually, I finish my patrol duty in 10 minutes." He replied. "If you don't mind waiting for a bit, then I'd love to get lunch with you!"

You shook your head.

You didn't mind waiting at all. You'd happily wait days, weeks even, to spend more time with your new hero. Something in your heart was telling you to get to know him better- to not let him go so easily.

Maybe fate was finally giving you the break you so desperately wanted?

"Great! Then wait here and I'll be back as soon as I can, ok?" He smiled so brightly you could practically feel the warmth radiating from it.

"It'll be my treat! To make up for not catching you in time!" He declared before running off, not giving you time to fight him on it.

You were supposed to be the one repaying him but it seemed he was now treating you to a meal instead, and you had a feeling that he wasn't going to stand down from it either.

You sighed happily and clutched your bag to your chest as you stared down at the cute bunny band aids that decorated your skin.

"Maybe today will be a good day after all."

531 notes · View notes

babybubastis · 3 years

Text

Inspired by the prompt “Welcome to fatherhood” sent to me by @prettylittlebirds82. I hope you don’t hate it lol. And I’m sorry it took me so long 🙈

Just some angsty, domestic WinterPrincess.

Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy complications, hospitals

———————————————————————

He moves as the mattress shifts, rolls over in his sleep to place his hand in the warm indentation left by her body.

Footsteps, rustling, whispering flutter on the edge of his consciousness. He burrows into the covers, groaning when his hand still searches, comes up empty, searches again.

“James.”

The whisper of his name is what does it. Whatever is in her voice sets off an alarm and he’s out of the bed and at her feet, blinking his eyes against the bathroom light.

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

Shuri looks up from her perch on the toilet, hands clutching her round belly, then drops her gaze again.

“I can’t stop,” she rasps. It’s then that he notices the steady trickling sound.

Bucky frowns, tilts her chin up so he can look her in the eyes. “You can’t stop what, angel?”

A sniffle. “I had an accident in bed, so I got up to use the bathroom, but I can’t stop peeing.” She shakes her head, whispers under her breath to herself, “It can’t be, it’s too early, it’s not time.”

The crease in his brow deepens, and his stomach drops even before his brain fully registers what she’s saying.

For maybe five seconds, he doesn’t breathe. His chest feels heavy, his right hand shakes, his vision tunnels.

Then she grabs his arm to try to stand, and a switch flips.

Bucky lifts his wife into his arms and strides over to the counter top. He sets her down like glass, eyes and hands frantically roving over her slightly trembling form.

“Are you having any contractions?”

He’s read enough to know that rupture of membranes doesn’t always mean labor is coming immediately. But it’s a damn good indicator, and he has to fight down the panic flooding his veins.

Panic isn’t something Bucky’s accustomed to, despite his whole life basically being one long shitstorm. From being taking captive as a prisoner of war over eighty years ago, to literally being snapped out of and back into existence, he’s had enough stress for three lifetimes. And somehow none of that has prepared him for the slow but powerful dread gripping his gut as his fingertips slide through the small puddle gathering on the cold marble underneath his very-pregnant-but-not-quite-pregnant-enough wife.

A large tear spills over and down Shuri’s cheek, but she shakes her head. “No, I feel fine, otherwise. This doesn’t make any sense...”

Bucky lifts his hands to cup her face, fingers gently wiping away the moisture before placing his right hand on her belly.

“You’re both gonna be okay, you understand me?”

His Queen nods once, bottom lip trembling before she presses both lips together and closes her eyes. She sucks in a breath and blows it out. When her eyes open, they still shimmer. But there’s resolve there, a determination and strength that makes him straighten up. He presses his lips to her forehead and lingers there, breathing her in before pulling away.

The next few minutes are a blur as he rushes around their suite grabbing clothes, shoes, phones, keys, wallets.

She’s still sitting on the counter when he comes back. Her eyes are closed again, head bowed, lips moving silently as both hands rub her belly. Bucky falters as he notices the towel now tucked between her legs. And there’s the panic again. He swallows it down and walks over to Shuri.

When he places his hands over hers, she sighs.

“Let’s get you dressed, baby, then we’ll head to the hospital.”

Her eyes flutter open and she nods. They’re silent as he helps her dress, a cloud of anxiety gathering around them.

“Wait, Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“How are we getting there?”

Shit.

He’s so out of sorts- exhausted, terrified, and trying to shove it all down enough to think straight, but he forgot to actually secure them a ride. Today was only the second day of their “baby moon”. Shuri had wanted to see New York City at Christmas time, just the two - make that three - of them.

Her water breaking at the end of her second trimester wasn’t part of the plan.

Bucky finishes helping Shuri tie her shoes before he runs into the bedroom again to grab his phone.

An ambulance is their best bet, but it’s 8:07 on a Friday morning in Downtown Manhattan. And according to his phone, it’s snowing. Heavily.

Shit.

“What about Tony?”

He whips around to find Shuri slowly climbing down from the bathroom counter. Rushing over to help her, his heart swells in spite of everything at the adorable grunt she lets out as her feet meet the floor.

“Now what about Tony, doll?”

Shuri huffs. “I thought I told you he and Pepper bought a second place in the city? They had their youngest last year at one of the hospitals here, but I forget which one.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. He doesn’t remember any of that.

His wife rolls her eyes and steps past him, waddling over to the desk near the door to grab her phone. “He invited us over for Christmas when I was on the phone with him last night, so they should be nearby. Maybe he can help.”

Before he can say another word, Shuri is on the phone, nervously chewing her bottom lip as her hand cradles their baby.

“Tony-“

Bucky can hear Stark’s voice on the other end then, way too loud for as early as it is, and he busies himself with double checking the small bag he’s packed to avoid becoming agitated.

He really doesn’t have anything against the other man. Despite their history, Bucky can’t blame Tony for what transpired between them all those years ago. And after Tony nearly died to defeat Thanos, Bucky only has respect for the man.

Tony had flatlined on that battlefield.

It was Shuri who sprang into action, refused to take no for an answer. She shouted orders at Doctor Strange to open a portal to her lab, and within minutes, she had Stark on a table while she ran diagnostics and went to work.

She was behind closed doors for hours, allowing only Pepper and Bruce back, along with Strange.

Bucky has no idea what exactly happened. He had waited outside of her lab until his eyes drooped, and the sound of the doors sliding open jolted him awake. Shuri emerged, hands bloody and shaking, but her expression gave nothing away. When it was all said and done, Tony Stark ultimately had her to thank for giving him his life back.

The friendship that bloomed between them after that made Bucky uneasy for... a while. Even after Bucky managed to work up the courage to confess his feelings to Shuri, and she confessed that she loved him back, he couldn’t shake the streak of possessiveness that flared unreasonably whenever Tony was around.

But he never begrudged his love her friendship, even when she decided to build a second Wakandan Outreach Center in New York, and Tony - who was making every effort in using his resources to help rebuild the world he’d saved - eagerly offered to be of assistance to Shuri in any way he could, in exchange for some “playtime,” as Stark called it, in her lab.

And Tony wasn’t the only one who had become a bit enamored with the then-Princess; the entire Stark household loved her, too. And yet, the retired Iron Man and the former Winter Soldier had barely ever exchanged more than two words and a few terse nods over the last few years.

Shuri calls to him, effectively bringing him back to the present, and Bucky realizes he’s nearly worn a tread into the carpet with his nervous pacing.

“Tony is on his way.” There’s a tinge of relief in her voice, but her left hand hasn’t left her belly, and she taps her phone against her thigh in an uneven rhythm.

Bucky walks over to his wife and grabs her hand. He brings it to his lips and inhales deeply.

“You ready?” It’s an effort to keep his voice steady.

She nods once, attempts a small smile that barely reaches her eyes at all.

Then Bucky interlaces their fingers and leads her toward the door and out of their suite. He slings their duffel bag across his shoulders and scoops her up into his arms, barely breaking stride on the way to the elevator. Shuri gives a surprised little yelp that, under different circumstances, might make him chuckle.

Instead, he holds her a little tighter and fights the urge to tap his foot while they wait for the car to reach their floor. It feels like an eternity waiting in that hallway, Shuri’s shallow breath against his neck, their baby cradled between them. He can hear Shuri’s heartbeat, wishes he could hear their little Bean’s heartbeat, too.

When he steps inside the elevator and reaches toward the button for the lobby, Shuri grabs his hand. He arches a brow in question.

To Tony’s credit, they don’t wait long at all. It can’t be more than ten minutes since Shuri hung up the phone when Bucky hears their ride approaching.

Any other time, he might roll his eyes and accuse Tony of having a flair for the dramatic. But he’s never been happier to see a Stark Industries helicopter in his life.

The chopper barely lands before Tony hops out, waving them forward. Once inside, they get buckled and take off in record time.

“How you feelin’, kid?”

Shuri looks up and gives a small smile. “I’ll be better when I know Bean is alright.” Bucky runs his thumb across the back of her right hand, and Tony reaches across from his seat to briefly squeeze her left.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, alright? Pepper’s OB owes me a gigantic favor, I already called ahead of you at the hospital. All we need to do is get you to OB Triage, and her colleagues will take it from there.”

Bucky exhales slowly and clears his throat. “I don’t know how to thank-“

Tony waves him off before he can finish his thought. “It’s the least I can do.”

Bucky nods. Shuri sags against him, and he turns his head to place a kiss to her temple.

“But if you want to repay me,” Tony interjects after a moment, “Anthony could be a great middle name.”

Shuri snorts. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” But there’s humor in her voice, and a genuine smile on her face this time, and Bucky is grateful to Tony for the second time that day.

By some miracle, triage isn’t busy at all. The on-call doc and a nurse greet them and take Shuri back while Bucky deals with the paperwork and Tony goes in search of caffeine.

It takes everything in Bucky not to chuck the clipboard back across the reception desk and follow after his wife. By the time he’s done filling everything out, every nail on his right hand is bitten down to nothing and his stomach is full of lead. He hands everything over and leans both hands on the desk, fighting the urge to crush the cheap fiberboard.

“So if you could tell me where they took my wife...?”

The middle aged woman behind the desk gives him a sympathetic smile. “Gimme just a sec, hun, I have to make sure they’re ready for ya.”

Before he can object, she stands and disappears through the door behind her desk. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and counts down from ten in Xhosa. He has to start over twice before the receptionist comes back.

“Mr. Barnes? They just took your wife down the hall for an ultrasound. She should be back in the room shortly, and then we’ll have someone take you back. Just sit tight, okay?”

But Bucky’s already been away from Shuri and Bean for ten minutes, and ready to crawl out of his own skin for every second. He tries for a smile - something charming yet authoritative, but hopefully not menacing - and sets his fists on the desk, leaning forward.

“Look-“ he starts, but a hand taps him on the elbow before he can finish his thought.

“Hey, let’s take a breather, huh?” Tony nods toward the double doors to the unit.

Tony must see the hesitation in Bucky’s eyes, because he gently nudges him.

“Just a few minutes. You look like you need it,” he says.

Bucky flicks his eyes to the receptionist, then back at Tony and the two large cups of coffee in his hands. He sighs heavily and gestures in front of him. “Lead the way.”

The waiting area is blessedly empty. Bucky walks over to a TV in the corner and searches for the remote. He can hear Tony slowly approaching behind him, but decides to distract himself with finding a decent show. But almost every station he clicks on is on commercial. He swears under his breath and slams the remote back down onto the coffee table.

“You break anything in this room, I’m not payin’ for it.”

Bucky whips his head around to find Tony smirking at him, and lets out a little puff of air.

“I just... I want to do... something.” He rakes both hands through his sweat-dampened hair. Then, almost so quietly, he’s not sure Tony even hears: “I’m goin’ a little outta my mind, here.” His voice cracks at the end, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of unshed tears.

“Welcome to fatherhood.” Tony claps a warm hand to Bucky’s back.

“Yeah,” Bucky chokes out through a watery, humorless chuckle. All of his weight slumps into the chair behind him then, and it teeters backwards on wobbly legs. “Baby’s not even here yet, and they’re already giving me a frickin’ heart attack,” he mutters into his hands.

“Like I said,” Tony replies, “welcome to the club. That kid’s gonna scare you shitless about a hundred more times before they’re even outta diapers, so,” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee before saluting the weary man next to him with his styrofoam cup, “buckle up.”

Bucky groans.

Slumped in this stiff chair under too-bright fluorescents, the adrenaline is beginning to wear off.

His hands are beginning to shake again, and a shiver runs through him.

“How far along is she, again?”

“Hm?” Bucky lifts his head, blinking to clear his vision.

“How far along is Shuri? I forget,” Tony repeats.

Bucky blows out a breath. He doesn’t even need to think twice, he’s been keeping track just as closely as her. “Twenty-four weeks, three days.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, panic threatening to clog his throat again.

Tony clears his throat after a moment. “She still insisting you guys don’t find out the sex?”

“She told you ‘bout that, huh? She uh, she thought it would be a nice surprise. Now I’m not so sure we should’ve waited to find out...” Bucky rubs his mouth.

Another silence.

His fingers twist the fabric of his pants, knees bouncing and jaw clenched as he resists the urge to go up to the nurse’s station for the twentieth time and ask when he can go back and be with his wife.

Tony gently pats his knee, and almost automatically, Bucky stops fidgeting. A little bit of the tension leaves his body and he inhales slowly to keep it at bay.

“Twenty-four weeks, three days,” Tony muses. “That’s early. But-“ he says as Bucky opens his mouth to respond, “but, it’s not terribly early, and you’d be surprised at the things they can do. This is the best place on the East Coast.”

Bucky drops his head again and nods.

“Shuri told me you guys had Arlo here.”

“Sure did.” A small smile lifts the corner of the other man’s mouth as he presumably thinks about his rambunctious and adorable youngest child.

They sit there for several minutes, Tony sipping his coffee quietly while Bucky ignores his in favor of chewing on his nails again.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there, but he has half a mind to just burst through the doors and bypass the receptionist all together to find Shuri. He’s halfway out of his seat when Tony pulls his phone out and glances at the screen.

A twinge of guilt shoots through Bucky, and he sits back down. “You can take off whenever you need to. You really didn’t have to keep me company. I appreciate it.”

Tony finishes typing something on his phone and puts it back in his pocket before looking up.

“Believe it or not, I’m happy to do it. Couldn’t just leave you here.”

Bucky flicks his gaze to Tony’s, searches his eyes for any hint of falsehood or irritation.

The corner of Tony’s mouth lifts slightly. “Really, Barnes. I know you and I have some shit to work through. But a lot of that got put into perspective after... all the other shit.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” The knot in his stomach unravels just a tiny bit

“And that woman in there,” Tony gestures toward the doors to triage, “I would do just about anything for her. She’s done a hell of a lot for all of us over the years. And she indulges my old ass when I need a virtual lab partner and Bruce is too busy to be bothered. My kids love her, Pepper loves her. I know she saved you, too.”

Bucky’s throat is clogged again. He looks down at his hands, rubs at the upgraded arm Shuri gifted him on their wedding day: black inlaid with gold and purple, a permanent ring of gold Wakandan lettering etched into his left third finger.

“And you feel like it’s your turn to save her.”

Bucky chuckles, in spite of himself, in spite of everything going on right this second. Because Tony is way too on the nose. He sighs, a heavy, weary thing that seems to leave him deflated. He doesn’t look up as he replies.

“How do I save her from this? How do I fix this? This isn’t the way any of this was supposed to go...”

“You don’t fix it,” Tony interrupts. “Just be there. Whatever happens, don’t hide from her, and don’t try to shield her, either. Just be there and take care of them both. I know I don’t really need to tell you that.”

Bucky takes in Tony’s words. He nods, presses his lips together as he looks up to meet Tony’s eyes. A thank you is on his lips when one of the double doors behind them swings open, and his heart stutters for a second.

“Mr. Barnes?” A petite woman in navy blue scrubs looks back and forth between Bucky and Tony.

Bucky shoots up immediately. “That’s me.”

The nurse waves Bucky forward. “Your wife is back in her room, you can come on back.”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder as he heads toward the door. Tony is on his feet now. “Tell the Her Majesty I’ll call her later to check on her. Rub that belly for me. And take care of yourself, too, yeah?”

Bucky tries for a smile, hopes he makes it. His heart rate is climbing again. “Will do.”

Bucky pulls open the curtain and Shuri opens her eyes.

The bed practically swallows her up, she’s so tiny, even with her large belly. The pang in his chest is so acute, it takes him a couple of tries to find his voice.

“Hi, babydoll. How are my two favorite people?”

She gives him a wan smile and shrugs. “We’re okay, I think. Bean has been moving a bit, and the ultrasound looks alright. But,” she pauses and closes her eyes briefly. Bucky walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take both of her soft hands in his.

“It’s okay, angel.”

She clears her throat and looks up at him. “The doctor says my amniotic fluid index is 2 centimeters.”

Bucky frowns. “Is that low?”

“Normal range is 5 to 25 centimeters. Almost all of my fluid is gone. Somehow my cervix is still completely closed, but they want to keep us until the baby is born. The doctor said most people go into labor within 72 hours of their water breaking, so traveling back home is too risky. They’re bringing one of the NICU doctors up soon to discuss things.” Her teeth gnaw at her bottom lip as she pauses, gives him a chance to absorb what she’s saying.

He feels what little breath was in his lungs being knocked out. They’re stuck here. And they’re baby is coming 16 weeks early. The dread in his gut builds. Feels like it’s clawing its way up from his stomach to his chest, and he clamps his mouth shut to keep it from escaping. Something else is bothering his wife. Truth be told, he’s not sure he wants to know what else she hasn’t told him, but he needs to know. He reaches up to pull her bottom lip out from between her teeth. His fingers linger there, caressing her face and memorizing every detail for probably the billionth time.

“What else did they say?”

She sucks in a long breath, then puffs it out. “They said I’m at increased risk for infection now that my water has broken. There’s significantly less protection for Bean and me, the longer I stay pregnant, so they’re putting me on antibiotics, and betamethasone shots to help speed up lung development.”

Bucky swallows thickly. “Do they know how this happened?” She’s been doing everything right - sleeping eight hours a night, taking her vitamins, eating clean, drinking tons of water, exercising appropriately -he can’t wrap his head around this.

Shuri gives a shake of her head and another tired shrug. “I tested negative for any kind of infection. Apparently, most cases of premature rupture have no known cause. Not that that makes me feel any better.” She looks down at her stomach and rubs it slowly, methodically. “According to the scan, Bean is only 1.4 pounds. So tiny, Buck.” Her voice catches on that last part, and then her face crumbles.

Bucky feels like he’s fracturing into a million pieces as he leans forward and draws her into his chest. One hand cradles the back of her head while the other rubs up and down her back. Her belly presses into his, and his control slips.

He’s terrified. For Shuri. For the baby. Heartbroken, because he honestly doesn’t know if their Little Bean is even going to make it. And frustrated, because there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it. Except be here.

Shuri feels the gentle shake of his shoulders. She lifts her head to press her forehead to his, the salt of their tears mingling together as their lips meet. The life inside her belly stirs enough that they both feel the movement, and everything else ceases to matter.

She manages to stay pregnant for six more weeks.

Six weeks of daily ultrasounds and bed rest and no privacy and lab draws and living in the hospital because the risk of traveling back home is too great.

Bucky is sure his back will never recover from sleeping on the hospital cot, but he’d give the health of his back and more to have his sweet baby and their Bean safe. He refuses to leave her. Even when Shuri flies in her mother, her OBGYN, her doula, and a couple of the Dora Milaje and puts them all up in a hotel, Bucky sleeps by his Queen’s side.

And when, six weeks to the day that she was admitted, their sweet baby boy makes his way into the world, Bucky is by her side for that too, holding her hand and supporting her as she pushes with more strength than he ever thought any one person could possess.

Ikemba T’Challa Buchanan Barnes is beautiful. Way bigger than predicted for a thirty-weeker, and so strong, but still tiny in the grand scheme of things, and vulnerable.

Bucky barely sleeps because he can hardly stop marveling at the long fingers, the soft tuft of dark brown hair, the satiny chestnut skin. He stays up nights talking with Shuri until she passes out, then quietly reads to baby boy until the wee hours.

It’s another five weeks before they get discharged- five weeks of Shuri faithfully pumping breast milk around the clock until their baby is strong enough to nurse, five weeks of her barely even leaving his room. They’re both a wreck, The White Wolf and the Queen, trying to hold it together enough to make sure their baby boy makes it out of the NICU and back home with them where he belongs.

They can’t get out of there fast enough the day he’s finally discharged. Shuri dresses him in the tiniest little onesie made of black and gold Vibranium thread. She made it herself, embroidered the insignia of the Golden Tribe on the front, and her hand lingers as she brushes softly across it. Bucky’s chest tightens a bit as he watches her eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He knows she’s thinking of her brother.

Silent tears stream down her face as she hovers over Ikemba in his car seat. Bucky flies the Royal Talon himself, because he’s too on edge to let any of the Dora do it. He trusts them with all their lives, but he’s too fidgety to sit in the back with his family.

Home. Get them home. That’s all he wants, and his shoulders don’t settle back down into a normal position until they step onto the tarmac.

Tony calls just as they’re walking into their quarters. Interestingly enough, he calls Bucky’s phone.

“Stark?”

“Hey, daddy, how’s it goin’? You guys in safely?”

Bucky suppresses an eye roll. “Stop calling me that, it sounds gross coming from you.”

Tony laughs on the other end, and Bucky finds himself chuckling as well.

“Whatever, you like it. And you better get used to it, because once my godson learns ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’, that’s all he’s going to want to say for a while.”

“I think we’re going with ‘baba’ and ‘mama,’ actually,” Bucky replies as he takes Ikemba out of his car seat and hands him to Shuri. He puts the phone on speaker and busies himself with putting their luggage in the closet.

Tony huffs. “You know what I mean. Anyway, how’s my girl?”

“I’m fine, Tony,” Shuri chimes in, settling in the recliner to nurse.

“I’m giving you a week, and then Pepper and I want a ton of pictures of baby boy.”

Shuri chuckles. “Of course. Give Pepper and the kids our love, okay? Well call you later in the week.”

“Alright, Your Majesty. Try to get some rest. You too, pops.”

Bucky snorts as he walks out of the bedroom and into the sitting room to give his loves some peace and quiet. He pauses briefly at the threshold, watching his wife nourish their son, his tiny little grunts and sighs practically melting him into a puddle of gratitude and adoration, before closing the door. “I’ll try. And Tony?”

“Yeah, Barnes.”

“Thank you.”

Tony hums in response. “Nothin’ to thank me for. You guys are family. Just take care of each other.”

Bucky’s chest warms, and he nods. “Of course.”

“Oh, Barnes.”

“What’s up?”

He can hear the smile in Tony’s voice as he replies, “Welcome to fatherhood.” And then the call ends.

A wide grin blooms across Bucky’s face as he walks over to the window overlooking the city. Bright, bustling, beautiful. Home. He closes his eyes and takes a real breath for the first time in three months.

After several minutes, the sweet lilt of Shuri’s voice singing a Wakandan lullaby reaches his ears and Bucky’s face hurts, he’s beaming so hard. He takes one more look at the landscape in front of him, then heads back into the bedroom to bask in the warmth of his family.

#winterprincess #royalwolf #shuri x bucky #bucky x shuri

28 notes · View notes

maybeyoumissthisf-kingpost · 3 years

Text

Relationship between political freedom and economic freedom

Are political freedom and economic freedom related? Can we have political freedom before there is economic freedom? In this article, I will answer both of these questions.

The relationship between political freedom and economic freedom

I disagree with those who think that political freedom and economic freedom are two independent things. Like the classic philosophical question of the chicken and the egg: which comes first, economic freedom and a market economy, or political freedom and human rights? Then someone exclaims that the chicken and the egg have no relationship at all, or worse, the chicken can’t make… the egg.

The correlation between market freedom and social freedom is one of the most important questions in development. Today, a group of people who argue that free markets increase political repression is slowly reviving the movement against Capitalism. And to answer the question “is there a relationship between political freedom and economic freedom?”, I would like to answer: “yes”. Even very yes.

Looking back at America and Milton Friedman’s “virtual solution” work

More than 50 years ago, when America was “bewitched” by Keynesian doctrine, it was Milton Friedman who stood up to remind Americans of the core principles that made America the greatest nation in the world. gender. That is freedom. That greatness does not come from power, but from the people’s belief in the ideals they pursue and the US constitution embodies it.

Friedman’s vision and the promise of the United States is to put the aspirations of individuals above the aspirations of the collective and the government. This should not be misinterpreted as promoting a lack of concern for the welfare of the collective, but above all, this vision is inherently rooted in concern for the welfare of the collective. Because, a society where the interests of individuals are placed above the collective interests will bring good to everyone; But when a society puts the collective interest above the individual, it destroys both.

Friedman’s most profound argument is to demonstrate the close link between economic freedom and political freedom.

In an interview with the Young America’s Foundation, he said: “I will be the first to stand up and say that I challenge them [who see political freedom and economic freedom as two separate things] to find which country has a high degree of civil liberties and political freedom that does not use capitalism and the private sector as the dominant element in its economic structure”.

“However, political freedom can also be the enemy of economic freedom. In fact, most of the British colonies gained their independence when they were politically free, but later turned into dictatorships and mostly had a socialist economy. Therefore, even though there is political freedom, people do not have the right view, they will vote against economic freedom.” — he confirmed.

Economics not only outdoes politics, it also determines political institutions

In Capitalism and Freedom, the chapter on The Relationship between Political Freedom and Economic Freedom, Friedman explains why a politically free society cannot exist without economic freedom. He criticized the view that politics and economics are two separate things, that any political system and economic system can be combined. He called the argument “a lie” and argued that political freedom and economic freedom are closely linked. Although he acknowledged the possibility of a free economy and a politically repressed society; but conversely, he argued that a politically free society could not exist without economic freedom. Historically and logically, political freedom is inseparable from economic freedom.

Economic freedom contributes to political freedom

Friedman explains that economic freedom is not only a vital part of individual freedom, but it is also important in promoting political freedom.

“Political freedom means no coercion of a person by those around him. The fundamental threat to freedom is coercive power in the hands of a monarch, dictator, tycoon, or temporary majority. By removing the political power’s control over economic organizations, the market will be freed from that coercive power. This allows economic power to become the control of political power rather than its own reinforcement.” — Milton Friedman

He also outlined the government’s problems in controlling resources, especially control of the media, which abets the suppression of dissenting voices. Without resorting to understatement, Friedman exposes the truths that the political hand is in control of all areas of the economy, from making it difficult to raise funds and ambiguity in speeches to against the government and freedom of speech, even to the point of making a living. Friedman concluded that when economic power fell into the hands of the government, it was completely impossible to maintain properly liberal politics.

The more the government has economic power, the more people lose their political freedom

Friedman’s analysis holds true to this day, and we have plenty of examples to show that the more the government gets involved in the economy, the more it destroys liberal politics. Nowhere else, that is Vietnam. After the doi moi reform since 1986, instead of moving to a market economy, Vietnam followed the so-called “socialist-oriented market economy” with state-owned enterprises monopolizing the key areas. Worse is the economic involvement of the military corporation, an organization with enormous political power capable of manipulating the entire market. That is reflected in Vietnam’s economic freedom index, which is currently the lowest in the region. We can see, so far Vietnam has not been able to have political freedom.

Why shouldn’t the government have a hand in the economy?

The root cause of government intervention in the economy is the mistaken belief that government can improve people’s lives by making economic decisions for us. But in essence, that intervention is to force the inherent nature of the market. This is the nth time I would like to quote Ronald Reagan: “Government is not the solution to our problems. It’s the government that’s the problem.”

There’s a rule that holds true when it comes to government dependence: as the government gets bigger, it will determine who deserves how much. This is the kind of power that is always used to protect the interests of groups that share the same views as the government. And those with “wrong views” will be forced to give up their values to serve the national interest (in fact, only the interests of a group of people holding power).

Politicians on the left often complain about the imbalance of power between groups/compartments in society. Factions fight each other for group interests but they forget that the biggest imbalance of power in a country is between the people and the government. The more control the government has, the more powerless the people will become.

Isn’t that the philosophy of Socialism? The more people depend on the government, the easier it is for the government to decide how much people are allowed to keep. The old demagogues of “taxes to serve the people” are always trumpeted by governments. We need to understand that, every time the government says that they want to raise the budget from taxes, they are saying: “Give the money or go to jail”.

One of the most common “tricks” is to force the whole society to participate in a social security program from the government, which is designed as a retirement and health care savings, but rather here. is a type of Ponzi scheme that borrows money from one person to repay the other. There are no profit-generating assets to pay for wealth distribution schemes, the scheme is merely a government promise that it will force others to pay you in the future when you are already paying for it. others in the present. These programs are maintained by the police force, and therefore, those who see the essence of social security programs understand that they are reluctant to pay taxes just to avoid going to jail.

Conclude

Political freedom and economic freedom have a rather complicated relationship, some people take advantage of this to be vague about the concepts to argue that political freedom and economic freedom are two unrelated issues. respect each other. Again, economics and politics have never been separated. Friedman once stated that “Capitalism is a necessary condition for political freedom”. Therefore, if the government’s tendency to control economic activities increases, then the people will not be able to have political freedom forever.

Want political freedom? Let’s have economic freedom first.

All credit goes to trantuansang.com.

#politics #economics #political freedom #economic freedom #freedom

2 notes · View notes

thestarwrites · 3 years

Text

All Right, All Might; Ch. 14

This is just a short chapter before we get into the whole Hero Killer arc! Little fluffy All Might stuff.

Rating: PG-13 Word Count; 2,547

———————— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PAPARAZZI

When All Might went home to get some things to bring back to her apartment, she made the subway trip by herself, smiling thinking about her weekend with Toshinori. Playing house with Japan’s number one Hero, that was surely something.

Walking up to her apartment building she paused - there was a man standing in front of it, looking like he was a waiting for someone or something. He was tall, lanky, black hai rand glasses. She felt like she had seen him before - but where?

As she approached the building, the man turned his head with a sly smile, “Keri Chairo?”

Her blood ran cold as she looked into the mismatched pupils of the man before her, “Who are you?”

He smiled and chuckled softly, “Taneo Tokuda is the name… I’m a journalist.”

“And what is it you want, Mr. Tokuda?”

“Well, Miss Keri… I just came from covering the sports festival at UA a few hours ago - and something very interesting happened that I happened to see.”

“There were a lot of interesting things happening this afternoon,” she steeled herself.

“Well, I’m talking about this,” the man pulled out a polaroid and held it before her - it was a photograph of All Might kissing her before the award ceremony.

She put her hand over her mouth and she could hear her heart in her ears, “It’s not every day you get the first and only photograph of All Might with his lips on a pretty girl… how old are you Miss Keri?”

She looked from the photo, “What do you want? Money?”

“What ever do you mean?”

Shaking her head her cheeks were red, she was mortified, terrified, she felt like she’d let Toshinori down, “Well this was hours ago, it could be on the news by now. But you found my apartment building and you must want something.”

“All I want is to have a conversation, Miss Chairo.”

She scoffed, “Likely.”

“You didn’t answer my question - how old are you?”

“I have a hero license, you know,” she grunted, “You know everything about me after a few hours I’m sure.”

Taneo smiled and sighed, “Hero name Patho, quirk - pathokenisis. You have the uncanny ability to project the sense of an emotion onto an individual or a crowd of people at will. You can also read emotions. You are 29 years old - almost 30, and you work at UA as the guidance counselor. You attended Ketsubutsu Academy high school in the support course, and University for a Bachelors - and then a Masters in Psychology. You just attained a hero license recently, and never had once before — satisfactory?”

Keri blushed, trying not to feel unnerved, “So. You know exactly who I am. So - again, What is I you want, Mr. Tokuda?”

“Do you love him? All Might?” To say she was taken aback was an understatement, the silence was deafening before he spoke again, something in his voice betraying a sense of emotion, “I need to know.”

“Yes,” she said gently, if she was going to be exposed as All Might’s lover, might as well set the record straight, “More than anything.”

Nodding the journalist looked down at the photo, “You can tell just by his face how much he loves you… its so strange, I’ve never seen that look on his face. Like he was a man going to work instead of Japan’s symbol of peace. How long have you been seeing him?”

The look on her face was one of confusion, but in concentrating, she couldn’t feel anything malicious in the man’s emotional demeanor.

“Considering the glow of your forehead I can tell you’re using your quirk - here,” he held out the picture, “Go on, take it.”

“What?”

He smiled, “I said take the photo. This is the only copy I have.”

“I don’t understand,” She reached out and took the photo, “You know… I don’t… actually have any photos of us.”

Taneo smiled more thoughtfully, “Well, now you do.”

“Mister Tokuda,” Looking up she knit her brows together, “I still don’t understand.”

“All Might saved my father from a bombing at an industrial complex eighteen years ago… I was eight,” He took a breath, “There is no one on this earth that I admire more than him. And I assume… you feel the same way.”

“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea, Mr. Tokuda?”

Now it was his turn to look shocked, “I… I would love to Miss Chairo.”

“Keri, please,” she smiled and opened the door.

He smiled in return, “Then please, call me Taneo."

The two of them went up to her apartment, and already he could tell how much she clearly adored All Might, “Wow… I have some of this stuff too - you were a fan when he was young, too?” He picked up a small All Might action figure off the mantle, “Wow… a young all Might action figure - I wasn’t lucky enough to have this one.”

Chuckling she nodded, "I was six when he came back from America… I thought he was the most amazing person I had ever seen in my whole life… He was always my hero,” she sighed, “He still is.”

“But now he’s your hero?” He smiled warmly.

Laughing gently she nodded, “Yes… to be honest? I still can’t believe All Might is my boyfriend.”

He smiled, “So how long have you been dating?”

Shrugging she put on the kettle, “We’ve been dating for two weeks… that’s all.”

“And you’re still in your position as the UA Guidance Counselor if I read correctly?”

Nodding she chuckled, “Why are you so interested Taneo? I mean… you could have blackmailed All Might. You also could have sold this photo for millions… retired, bought an island - or three.”

“Well, see, one of these days I know he’ll end up retiring. And I want to have the exclusive to writing a really great book about him and his life… because he means so much to me,” he looked down to the photo on the counter, “It… also makes me happy that after all this time, he’s found someone to share himself with.”

Smiling she sighed, “He’s a wonderful man, maybe if you stick around you could say hi?”

His eyes widened, “Oh no… no I’ll save that for another day when I’m ready to start that book, not when I’ve stalked out his girlfriend’s apartment,” he blushed a little and smiled.

Keri nodded, “Fair enough,” setting the teacup in front of him she took a deep breath, “So… What do you want to know?”

Taneo smiled, “What’s he like? I mean- really like.”

“He’s… worried a lot,” she started, looking down into her own teacup, “Worried that he’ll fail everyone. Worried he won’t be strong enough for everything he needs to do. Sometimes he gets down on himself. But - he’s a really good man. He’s kind, considerate, warm, funny… he’s got so many dad jokes it’s so charming. He’s a goofball really. He’s a little clueless sometimes, which is precious… All around, he really just believes in everything he stands for.”

Smiling brightly the younger man nodded, “I’m glad… I’m glad he really is who he seems to be - how did you meet him? No offense but, you’re not in any rankings, Keri.”

“Oh none taken. I only got my hero license about eighteen months ago when I took the job of Guidance Counselor at UA. I have a masters degree in psychology and Principal Nezu wanted to look into therapy for the kids, since they have to deal with so much. I for one didn’t go to UA… as you know,” She smiled.

Taneo nodded, “Why Ketsubutsu? And why didn’t you go into hero work? — I mean if I can get off topic for a moment?” “Well, my quirk is useful - but really not for hero work. Support work, sure. But my quirk wasn’t flashy or useful enough to merit trying to get into UA, as much as I wanted to go. Kids at middle school made fun of me and called me Psycho-path and stuff like that, or like Little All Might Fangirl, you know, normal kid stuff,” the man nodded again as she continued, “So, I decided to enter the support course at K.A., I knew All Might would do what he could so, so did I.”

“So he’s really inspired you your whole life?”

Nodding she blushed, “I went into psychology because I knew how brutal going through hero course work was. And I knew heroes must get scared or anxious or angry… so I decided I could help the most being a hero therapist.”

“That’s a good idea, actually.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled, "Anyhow - one day last year All Might came in to talk to the principal about teaching this year and he burst into my office, not knowing where the principals office was.”

“So it was a bona fide meet-cute,” he leaned on his hand.

Blushing she chuckled softly, “I guess so… we just kind of… hit it off. You know? We became fast friends, and we’ve been best friends since then. In the attack on the USJ a few weeks ago, he got hurt, and I just kind of realized I wanted to tell him how I felt about him. And I guess he felt the same.”

“Adorable. You and All Might, in love.”

“Well… we haven’t used the big L word. I don’t want to freak him out.”

“Freak him out?”

“Well… you know him,” she sighed, “He’s never really had much time for relationships, you even said yourself. This is the first photo of him kissing a woman out there. We’ve been careful. The kids and teachers at school know, but no one else.”

Finishing his tea he smiled, standing and bowing, “Well no one will hear it from me — at least not yet. Maybe one day you’ll let me use that photo in my book,” he smirked, “Until then, I’ll wait for an invitation to your wedding.”

Blushing hard she chuckled, “You’ll get the inside scoop if we ever do end up married. But somehow… I don’t know how that will work.”

He smiled and nodded, “Well, my fingers are crossed for you, Keri,” he winked, “I’ll let you get back to your afternoon. And I’m glad I could give you a photo of you and him.”

Walking him to the door she smiled, placing a hand on his arm, “Thank you, Taneo… truly. It’s not every person who would give up this opportunity for the sake of the hero.”

Nodding he took a breath, “I know I could probably retire on that money… but I couldn’t repay him like that,” with one last look around he nodded to her again, “Have a good night, Keri.”

“You too,” she smiled and closed the door behind her, she rushed to the table and picked up the photo with a sigh and a smile, “Wow… a photo of me kissing All Might… sixteen year old Keri, eat your heart out!” She laughed to herself, going to sit on the sofa and stare at it while she waited for mister number one to walk through her door, “Reminder to take some pictures and selfies this weekend. We look cute as heck.”

————

A knock came on he door, she smiled and got up, opening it to see her Small Might with, of course, an All-Might Duffle Bag, “Hey Sunflower,” he grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

Humming into his lips she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Welcome home, honey. Did you have a good day at work?” She cooed.

“Ohhhh we’re really doing the whole house thing?”

She nodded and kissed him again softly, “I missed you.”

He smiled into the kiss and sighed, “I missed you too, baby, work was okay. I got to do the All Might thing for a bit and it felt like old times.”

Moving to let him in she motioned him over to the sofa, “Well, you just take off your shoes and get comfortable okay? I’ll go get started on dinner.”

“I thought we’d order out tonight? I haven’t had pizza in a bit,” Nodding she came and sat down beside him, “Hey - what’s this?” Picking up the polaroid he covered his mouth.

She patted his hand, “Don’t we look cute together?”

“Ree - honey, where did you get this?!” He looked at her with a shock to his face.

Frowning a bit she wet her lips, “Why… embarrassed to have a picture with me?”

“What? Honey- No. I’m thinking about YOU here. If this photo gets out you’ll be MOBBED, I don’t want that for you, not when we’re still just trying to enjoy each other, I don’t want to make your life difficult.”

She leaned back against the couch and took a deep breath, “A reporter met me here at my apartment when II got home. Taneo Tokuda was his name. He said you saved his father when he was eight. He’s a huge fan of yours and he took it this afternoon.”

“I…. Don’t understand?”

“He said it would be no way to repay you to sell this photo. He feels lucky enough to have captured the first romantic photo of us. And he hopes someday when he writes a book about you, I’ll let him use the photo. He gave it to me, and told me he was happy for us.”

“Tokuda. I’ll have to remember that name,” he nodded and looked back down at the photo, “You look so beautiful in this photo.”

“It reminded me that we don’t really… take pictures together ever. And we’ve been friends for over a year now,” she bit her lip, “Can we take a selfie later babe?”

He nodded and smiled, “Only if you text it to me so I can put your sweet face on my phone background,” Blushing she nudged him, and he pulled her into his lap, “Now… let's play house properly.”

Leaning in he kissed her softly, hands securely holding her hips as their tongues danced together. After a few minutes Keri pulled back for air and giggled, “Oh Toshi…”

Stroking his thumb over her cheek he smiled at her, letting out a soft sigh, “Can I ask you something?” Nodding she smiled, “Yeah of course…”

“I know you want to go over to Hosu, to pay a visit to Ingenium and young Ida,” he paused a moment, “But, before we do that - could we take a visit to my mentor? I really want you to meet him. It would mean a lot to me.”

Stroking his face she nodded, “Of course we can, honey.”

“Great!” He beamed and kissed her again, “Now… lets get some takeout, and take some selfies and…” he leaned in close to her ear, “We can make love until the sun comes up.”

Keri blushed and giggled, “You’re expecting an awful lot from a man with one lung,” she teased.

Smirking he bulked up, “Why you little…” picking her up in his arms she blushed and squirmed, “AH AH, MISS PATHO, I THIINK YOU NEED TO BE PUNISHED FOR BEING SO SAUCY.”

Keri laughed softly, cheeks bright red, “Oh mister number one! Please! Be gentle with me!”

#all might x oc #all right all might #toshinori x oc #toshinori yagi #all might #all might x reader

8 notes · View notes