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#and their mission was to create a home but they did create one
themotherofhorses · 2 days
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simon riley x fem!reader
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Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 
“Loved him so bloody much.” 
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
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note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
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manestjerne · 21 hours
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The book of regrets part one
Summary: You're an avenger, Tony's younger sister. When things finally get quiet, Bucky reaches out for you to help him.
Word count: 6k
Warnings: guns, swearing, a little angst, mentions of mental disorders, angry behavior, injuries, lying
A/N: Okay, so Steve is gone, but the endgame never happened, no one's dead, I can't cope with that, okay?
It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I lost it after around 4k words, so there'll be more parts, that's why I finally created a
masterlist
I was sitting at my desk, going through some of the newest research Bruce sent me when my phone buzzed lightly. I moved my head slightly, my thoughts still on the research shimmering on my laptop’s screen.
You up?
I locked my eyes on the notification from an unknown number, knowing it usually means trouble. I slowly wrapped my fingers around the phone and picked it up, ready to look for some info about the number, but my hand clenched tighter when it started buzzing again. I stared at the screen for a few seconds before picking up and moving it slowly to my ear, not saying anything. 
„Hey, hope I’m not bothering you too much.”
„Bucky?”
I felt my shoulders relax, not even realizing how tensed I was a moment before. The familiar voice echoed lightly in my head, he was the last person I was expecting. 
„I’m sorry.” He paused for a second and I could almost hear how his jaw clenched before he started talking again. „Remember when you said I can count on you if I need anything? That’s a perfect moment for that.”
„What did you do?” 
I whined quietly in response, knowing he’s in real bad trouble if he’s asking me for help. He never did that, it was always Nat or Wanda, sometimes the others, but he never asked me, to not put me in danger. I was wondering why did he change his mind suddenly. 
„Look, you don’t have to come, but I’d appreciate that…” He paused again like he was struggling to just talk to me. „…asshole. I’ll send you the details if you’re interested.”
I smiled to myself at the insult, knowing he’s just trying to show me that he doesn’t care if I come. I looked at my phone again when he hang up, waiting for some sort information about what he wanted me to do, but only an address and time showed up on the screen when I felt the little buzz. I looked at the clock. 
„Two hours, great.”
I mumbled to myself, realizing the drive will take me about an hour and a half. I stood up rapidly putting all the necessities I my bag. I was prepared for that, honestly I was waiting for something like that to happen. After Steve left, things among the Avengers got pretty quiet and I missed the rush of adrenaline I got during missions. After 15 minutes my duffel was packed and I glanced at the room one more time to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I walked out through the kitchen when I heard a voice behind my back.
„Where are you going?”
Tony asked not lifting his eyes, still focused on whatever calculations he was working on. 
„Nat’s” I shrugged my shoulders like it was supposed to get the blame of lying to him out of my head. „I’m staying for the whole weekend.”
„Just don’t get into any trouble. Love you.”
He still wasn’t looking at me, and thank God he was so focused on his work. I felt guilt crawling up my spine and folding my mind with his last words, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. He wasn’t really fond of Bucky and we would argue, which I didn’t have time for. As a brother he was just trying to protect me and I was glad he did, but he was really overreactive sometimes and I needed a break from staying at home for so long.
„Love you too.”
I mumbled before rushing to the elevator.
„Hey Nat, what are you up to?”
I asked through the hand-free set as I was driving, checking the gps way too often. 
„Not much, why?"
She laughed at my directness. 
„If anyone asks, I’m staying at your place for the weekend, okay?”
I wasn’t planning on hiding anything from her, I knew she wouldn’t snitch about it, so I just chose to say exactly what’s on my mind.
„Oh, you fucking troublemaker. What are you up to now?”
I knew she rolled her eyes as she said this. I smirked at her reaction.
„Not sure, but some grumpy old man asked for my help and I’m too bored of sitting on my ass, since you stopped taking me on missions.”
„Bucky reached out to you?” She sounded surprised, which wasn’t a common emotion for her. „Is it about the whole New Captain America shit?”
„About what?”
I froze, realizing I’m not up to speed. I spent the last few days isolated in my room, trying to help Bruce with his research, it was really time-consuming. She laughed at my reaction and I promised to give her an update when I knew more. I spent most of my ride talking to her, which was one of my favorite things. Either listening to music or talking with Natasha while driving was a perfect way to clear my mind, one of my favorite ways to escape the reality. 
„Okay, I guess I’m here.” I said when I parked my car at an empty parking lot. „I’ll update you when I know anything. Just don’t rat on me, love you.” 
„Just don’t get yourself killed, love you too.” 
She hang up as I reached for my bag and left the car, slowly looking around. It seemed like I was alone, when I spotted a warehouse in the distance. A large field was separating from what I guessed was our meeting spot, so I couldn’t get any closer with my car and decided to walk on foot, cursing under my breath when I realized how far away it was. My breathing was getting heavier with each step when I reached the warehouse, still not seeing anyone, when a firm voice behind my back snapped me back to reality.
„I didn’t think you’d come.” 
I jumped, forgetting how smooth he can be. He snuck up on be from behind without any trouble, but I blamed the exhausting walk for my distraction. 
„Why’d you call me then?”
I rolled my eyes, looking at his face as he furrowed his brows thinking about a satisfying answer. 
„Because I knew you won’t freak out.”
What he said wasn’t even a bit of a satisfying answer, I still knew shit, but I turned my back to him when I heard the large door opening, realizing we’re not alone. Seeing a familiar face put me off guard and in a second I had my gun pointed at Zemo, without even thinking about it.
„The fuck is this?”
I scoffed not lowering my gaze, feeling the blood boil in my veins. Last time I saw Bucky, I helped him chase Zemo and now he brought me straight to him.
„Relax.” He said softly behind my back. „We need him just as much as we need you. Put the gun down, murderer.”
„We?” 
I asked, but as an answer, a tall man walked out of the warehouse, going through some notes he was holding. 
„Okay, we’re all set. Are we still waiting for her or is she-„ He stopped mid-sentence when he looked up and saw me, my fist still clenching on the gun I was pointing at Zemo seconds before he came here. „Shit, sorry. Didn’t know you’re already here. Nice to see you again.”
„Uh-huh, and you are…?”
I asked carelessly and heard Bucky sigh, as he was now standing next to me. 
„Girl, we’ve literally spent like three days together when we were trying to get him his mind back.”
He said with a scowl, nodding his head in Bucky’s direction.
„Oh, yeah. Sam.” I said when I finally remembered where do I know him from. „Sorry, I wasn’t really focused on making new friends then, kinda busy with some family drama.” 
The Civil War was an awful memory for me, as I betrayed Tony by getting on Steve’s side. We worked it out after a while, well, in the end I supported the Socovia Accords, distracting the whole team and letting them go after Zemo. I spent so much time helping Steve find Bucky and then continued to risk my life by helping him, only to find out, he's the person who killed my parents. Well, not exactly, I knew the difference between Bucky and the Winter Soldier, that’s why I got over it much quicker than Tony, but it still ached my heart. I would probably do it again, I knew he deserved my help, but I wish they told me before Zemo did.
„We should get going.”
Bucky said and took the bag off my shoulder in one, smooth motion. I let him do that, now fully focused on the private jet we were walking towards. It wasn’t anything new for me, as a Stark I was used to this kind of luxury but I had to ask.
„Where’d you get that?”
„It’s mine.” 
Zemo replied calmly when we were walking up the stairs.
„Oh.”
I mumbled quietly, loosing any further interest in the jet.
I sat on the seat I found the most comfortable and Bucky threw my bag at my feet before sitting down opposite and piercing me with his gaze. I smiled softly in reply, knowing it’ll piss him off, and it worked perfectly as he rolled his eyes once I did that.
„Can you now tell me where we’re going?” 
I looked closely at Bucky for the first time I saw him. He looked pretty miserable, but that wasn’t anything new, I was more worried about the bruises and scratches all over his face, now clearly visible in the bright light. And I knew there were more, hidden under his thick layers of clothing. I flinched when Sam threw a file on my knees. I opened it up and looked through the papers. It took me some time to read it all carefully, trying to remember any details that might be useful later. My eyes were flickering between the lines, comparing a few pages at once, trying to figure out more connections than they’ve already found, but their research was pretty solid. 
„Karli Morgenthau? That kid kicked your asses?” 
I looked at Sam before trying to figure out Bucky’s expression, but none of them replied.
„Why me? Why am I so perfect for this?”
I asked pretty annoyed, since they stopped replying any of my questions. 
„Because we saw, that you know how to fight a super soldier. You proved it more than once.”
Bucky said after a minute of awkward silence. I replied him with a blank stare, knowing he’s referring to me fighting Steve, when he went too harsh on Tony, that night in Siberia.
„You don’t have to do that, we can get you a flight back as soon as we land.”
He rolled his eyes with that and I replied with a huff, bringing my knees to my chest to shift into a more comfortable position, knowing we’re going have a long flight. I closed my eyes and tried to sink in the silence, but I was feeling quite uncomfortable, so I decided to take a guess. 
„Stop staring at me, freak.”
I knew I was right, when I opened my eyes and saw the grimace on his face. Bingo. 
„I told you to stop doing that Buck, it’s freaking people out.”
Sam chuckled from the sit on my right, but my eyes were still on Bucky. He looked at Sam for a quick second, before catching my gaze again. 
„She’s not freaked out because of my staring, just geniually afraid.”
He said with a teasing grin, but I knew he was waiting for an honest answer, hoping I won’t figure that out.
„Good point, I usually don’t trust people who shot me in the past.” 
My response was calm, my hands resting in the pocket of my jumper to hide the trembling. He got abashed by that, now wondering if that’s the truth, or maybe I knew what answer he was hoping for. He was praying in his mind for me to deny, knowing we all went through a lot with him as the Winter Soldier. But in his eyes I was the most fragile one, never been on a real war, just a spoiled little girl. He gave me one more careful look, but I did everything in my power to not let him know that I’m lying. I wasn’t afraid of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me now. I was sure about that, but if he wanted to play that game, acting like he doesn’t care? I had no point proving him otherwise. 
„So is her name in your book too?”
Zemo was first to break the silence. Bucky snapped his head in his direction, but I said nothing, acting like I don’t care what they’re talking about. 
„It’s not.”
Bucky hissed in response. I decided to not ask any more questions, just closed my eyes and rested my head on my shoulder, hugging my knees close to my chest. I felt that I started drifting away, giving up and deciding to ask more questions about the Flag Smashers when we reach our destination. I flinched and opened my eyes, feeling a soft material suddenly landing over my head. I took it off and looked at Bucky questioningly.
„Take a nap, we have some real shit to work out.”
I responded him with a smile and covered myself with the blanket he just threw at me, but he rolled his eyes and looked away. We didn’t hate each other, it wasn’t the point, but neither of us was going to give up and we only pushed ourselves further with all the teasing. I knew he’d do a lot for me, to protect me. But still we played our characters well, acting like we hate each other, when there was no need to care. I wasn’t sure why tho, sometimes I felt like I’m just fooling myself that he actually cares about me. That I’m too worried about him, to realize that I’m not important to him at all, trying to protect my bruised ego. I let my head fall back and closed my eyes again, hoping no one will interrupt this time. 
It felt like I just fell asleep, when a strong hand landed firmly on my shoulder.
„We’re almost there.”
Sam said in a soft voice when I opened my eyes. I looked around and realized everyone is looking at me.
„What? Was I snoring?”
I asked rolling my eyes before folding the blanket and putting it back under the table.
„We were just wondering…” Zemo started slowly, I forgot how annoying his accent was. „… how many guns did you take with you?”
„What kind of a stupid fucking question is that?” I snorted „Enough, but I believe they won’t be necessary.”
„What do you mean?” 
Zemo asked confused, but I was focused on Sam, his impression turned sad quickly, lowering his gaze to the ground and shaking his head slowly.
„They’re just a bunch of kids, you’re not planning on killing them, are you?” I huffed. „I’m not an assassin, that’s not why you called me. There must be another way.”
„So you’re just going to talk them out of killing innocent people? Sounds like a good plan.”
Bucky snorted, but I knew he was on my side here.
„She’s right.” Sam said quietly when we started landing, but we all could see Zemo’s impression, he was not pleased about what we've just said. „We just have to take control of the situation and calm everything down, killing them won’t solve the problem, there’ll be more.”
„But that way we could teach them a lesson.” Zemo said carelessly. „The car is waiting.”
„Where the hell are we?” 
I asked when we left the plane. The weather confused me as the warm breeze grazed my face.
„Riga.” 
Zemo replied peacefully when we were walking towards the car.
„It’s Donya Madani’s funeral today, that’s our chance to find them.”
Sam added to dispel my doubts. The ride wasn’t long, but very quiet, too quiet for me. Living in the Avengers Tower and being so close with Tony made me used to loud surroundings. I was always complaining about that, only missing it when the silence was too long, too loud. I took my phone out of my pocket and opened the chat with Natasha.
Just tracking a bunch of rebellian kids, I’ll be fine:)
I shut down the screen and started fidgeting with my phone, when Sam finally broke the silence. 
„How’s Wanda, she was pretty broken the last time I saw her.”
I turned my head his way before noticing Zemo’s stare in the rare mirror, but I ignored it.
„She’s better now, not fine, but better. Found her peace in Vision I guess, little traitor moved out.”
He chuckled at my answer and I let out a sigh of relieve as the car wasn’t so quiet finally. 
„How’s your sister, you have one, right?”
He looked at me confused, but then probably remembered I’m a Stark, I can get information on anybody, whenever I want. He smiled softly and nodded his head. 
„Having some trouble now, but we’re trying to figure it out, only getting better.”
„I didn’t know you have a sister.”
Bucky looked at us over his shoulder, he sounded a little offended. 
„Wondering why, you two are such besties, should know everything about each other.”
I answered sarcastically and Sam snorted again. The rest of our ride was quiet again, but the atmosphere wasn’t so tensed, letting me enjoy it more, before Zemo parked in a narrow street, in front of an old, but luxury looking tenement. I lazily got out of the car, letting Sam take my bag. Our walk to the building was short, but my attention was brought by a small, silverfish ball laying at the side of the street. I took a look around carefully when we were getting closer to the entrance door, when Bucky spoke up.
„I’m gonna take a walk.”
He said casually, but I knew what his destination was. Sam and Zemo nodded, opening the door. Sam gave me a questioning stare before entering, but I didn’t move, just replied with a meaningful smile and he nodded again, closing the door behind him. I turned around when Bucky was squatting, taking a closer look to the object that brought my attention earlier.
„It’s about Zemo, isn’t it?”
He flinched at my voice, not knowing I stayed outside. 
„Go inside, I’ll do the talk.”
He rolled his eyes and turned his back my way again, starting to walk towards the nearest corner. I sighed and followed him, almost running for a moment, before catching up.
„You shouldn’t have done that Bucky, that’s too much.”
I said firmly and brought my head up to look at him, but he didn’t mind looking back.
„You think it’s not too much for me?” He sighed before honoring me with a quick glance. „We need him, he got us closer than we could’ve gone alone.”
„You could’ve just called me earlier, you know I could help.”
He stopped unexpectedly and looked me in the eyes. 
„I hoped it won’t be necessary at all, I don’t want to put you at risk again.”
„Stop acting like anything that happened there was your fault. I’m not a damn kid, I know what and when I can handle, it was my choice to help Steve and I regret nothing.”
The words coming out of my mouth quickly, he was annoying me with trying to blame himself for everything, protecting me when it wasn’t needed. 
„You should regret that, I killed your parents.” 
He replied harshly before walking away. He confused me with his words, I needed to process what he said for a few seconds before following him again. 
„You didn’t, that was the Winter Soldier and we both know the difference, so stop fucking whining, I thought you went to the therapy to work on your PTSD.”
My answer was unexpected for both of us, his flesh fingers wrapped around my jaw as I stopped talking, but I couldn’t blame him. 
„You know shit about the difference, and you’re the one whining at the moment, so just go to the apartment and let me talk to them before I lose my temper.”
His hand left my face as soon as he stopped talking, but he didn’t move, still staring at me with his cold eyes, surprisingly filled with guilt, not anger. 
„Should’ve used the metal arm, you’re not going to scare me that way.”
I shrugged my shoulders and continue walking in the direction he chose.
„I’m not trying to scare you, just stop being such a fucking tease, damn it.”
I shook my head in response when we took the corner.
„Ayo.”
I noded at her slowly.
„Miss Stark.” 
She replied politely before turning to Bucky.
„I’m here for Zemo.”
„We need him.”
I replied without hesitation, ignoring Bucky’s annoyed look.
„You shouldn’t have done that, he still has his debt to pay.”
She wasn’t looking at me and I saw a muscle in Bucky’s jaw twitch before he answered.
„I apprecieate everything you did for me, he is just a means to an end.”
His voice was calm and respectful, his eyes fully focused on the tall figure in front of us. I never saw him talking with anybody like that, wondering what exactly happened during his stay in Wakanda. 
„He killed king T’Chaka and now you set him free? After all you went through to free yourself? You chose a wrong way here.”
I saw how she brought him down with just once sentence, still acting confident, but we both saw as he just wanted to shrink and disappear to avoid continuing this conversation.
„T’Challa chose for him to live and I’ll put him back in prison myself when we’re finished.”
I responded firmly, trying to take over and not make Bucky do anything he wanted to escape at that moment.
„No.” Ayo cut me off harshly. „We’ll take care of him now. In Wakanda. Eight hours.” 
She emphasized her last words and I felt shivers crawling up my spine. As much as I respected the whole Dora Milaje, how grateful I was for what Shuri ever did for us and how much I wanted to appreciate what the last king and his whole tribe did for me when I needed it, I was scared. Their help proved how devoted they were to just live in peace, they made me respect them and all their work. I turned my back to her and started walking away, Bucky following not long after me. 
When we reached the building I rested my back on the wall near the door and went through my pockets to find a pack of cigarettes, before putting one in my mouth and lightning it. I inhaled the smoke searching for some kind of relief as it spreaded through my lungs.
„I’ll catch up.”
I noded at Bucky, but he didn’t leave, looking at me closely. 
„I thought you quit.”
He furrowed his brows and crossed his arm on his chest.
„Nasty habit.” I shrugged, letting the silence last for a few more seconds before speaking up. „I started again when Steve left.”
His gaze felt to the ground immediately, I knew how much it hurt him. They only person who really cared all these years, his only chance of finding comfort, believing he was something more than just HYDRA’s weapon, leaving as suddenly as he appeared in his life again.
„He left me something.” I said slowly putting my hand I my pocket, grabbing the cold, thin metal with my fingers, hesitating if I should do it, but I knew he deserved this piece of him back. „Here.”
His eyes widened as he saw the dog tag I was holding. Taking a closer look he could see his name engraved on it. 
„I wanted to give you this earlier, but well, never had a chance to do it.”
My fingers clenched tighter on the chain for a second, before I let him take it. He examined it closely before opening his mouth.
„Where did he got it? Why did he gave it to you, not me?” 
I knew there were much more questions in his head, but I didn’t know the answer to any of them. I sighed softly before taking another drag.
„I don’t t know. We’ll never know.”
I looked at the cigarette between my fingers, realizing I finished it much faster than I expected. I put it out in a bin and gave Bucky one more reassuring look, while he was still turning the little sheet of metal between his fingers.
„Let’s go.” I squeezed his arm softly before entering the building. 
We didn’t know how Zemo got any information about the address, but we were finally standing in front of the building, the memorial was supposed to happen in. I heard a soft, friendly voice behind my back, when we all turned to face it.
„Bucky! Sam!” The blonde man paused for a second taking a closer look at me „Miss Stark? Woah, what an honor.”
I raised my eyebrow and looked at Bucky who rolled his eyes, looking more annoyed than I’ve ever seen him.
„Who the fuck are you?”
My eyes wandered all over his body, feeling my fists clench, seeing another man wearing Captain’s America suit. He had no right to do that, he had no right to put his hands on the shield. I thought about what Nat told me earlier, the whole New Captain America shit. I never thought she’s so serious about it.
„My apologies, I never introduced myself, people mostly know me now.” He smiled showing his white teeth and I felt a grimace of disgust forming on my lips. „I’m John Walker, Captain America. This is Battlestar.”
I snorted at the little nickname his friend got for himself.
„You’re not Captain America, you’ll never be.” My voice filled with hate and disrespect wiped his smile away for a second. „And you still have the nerve to walk around with that shield on your back, you have no self respect, do you?”
I felt quiet chuckles coming from both Bucky and Sam as my anger was starting to grow every second I kept looking at the muppet standing in front of me. 
„I knew I’ll enjoy their first meeting.”
Sam whispered, but I couldn’t focus on their reactions, my knuckles starting to turn white from how hard I was clenching my fists.
„Basically, this shield is a government property, and well” he chuckled proudly „since I’m the government, I have all rights to use it.”
„This shield was made by my father and the government took the rights illegally after his death, so basically you should shut the fuck up before I lose my temper.”
Bucky groaned proudly as I repeated his words from earlier, I turned his way completely ignoring the farce behind my back.
„You’re not cooperating with them, are you?”
„Well, basically…” John started „…you have to do that, government orders.”
„You’re such a dog for mister president, huh?” I grinned through my teeth „Little muppet just following him around and completing all the orders. Just don’t get in my way or I’ll have to get rid of you, and I really worked hard on my reputation for the last few years, don’t make me ruined it again.”
I started walking towards the building, Bucky and Sam following me closely until me met with Zemo, after entering through the back door.
„Now, you don’t get in my way, or I’ll take the necessary measures.” 
He followed us inside, probably thinking of a come back the whole time.
„Yeah, arrest me, whatever. Just shut your mouth before I help you.”
I took my gun out checking again if it’s loaded, praying I won’t have to use it. 
„Excuse me” I groaned turning his way, as he had he audacity to open his mouth again. „Did you break out a prisoner? How dumb are you, bringing him to me? What is he doing here?”
„He’s definitely being less annoying than you.” I got a quiet chuckle even from Zemo this time. „He escaped alone, we had nothing to with it and you shouldn’t be worried about that.” 
„I demand your respect, you can’t treat me like that. I’m taking care of the order now, wether you like it or not, so you better-"
I cut him off with a loud laugh, but Bucky and Sam got defensive immediately, taking a step closer to him.
„She better what?”
 „Okay, you know what?” His impression turned into a fake, friendly smile again. „We should just work this out together and then I’ll arrest him. I won’t take you if you cooperate with me. So what’s the plan?”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Sam, he was the one to speak up first. 
„I’ll go talk to her, just don’t interrupt us, there has to be more than just a murderer in her, I’ll get it out.”
His words were calm and firm. He knew what he was talking about, before becoming an Avenger he used to run a therapy group for veterans, he just knew how to deal with people like her. 
„I’ll go with you, but we do that alone, no interruptions, no help, unless we say we need it. Let’s not get these kids killed.”
„He’s an ex-soldier, used to this kind of situations, who are you, thinking you can handle it?” 
John asked irritated, I knew it was only because I made demands, he was just trying to putt me off guard.
„I’m a woman, so believe me, I can talk to people better than any of you.”
I said carelessly and Bucky scoffed, I rolled my eyes at him.
„Ten minutes.”  John said taking out his handcuffs and walking towards Zemo. „And he stays here, I’ll deal with it when we’re finished.”
I followed Sam to the main hall, where Karli was standing alone, probably aware that we’re coming.
„We’re sorry for your loss.” 
Sam started when we came closer to her.
„No, you’re not.”
She scoffed angrily, taking a step back.
„Karli, we’re just here to talk, please listen what we want to say.”
„I know who you are. You’re not fond of talking, none of the Avengers are. You don’t understand what we’re doing, what we’re fighting for.”
She was frustrated and probably scared. I knew there were people watching us, making sure she’s safe. But they were hiding for now, giving us the space to continue. 
„You can’t fight for your rights by hurting other people, we’re here to help, just let us.”
I continued slowly, taking a step towards her once more, and she didn’t back off this time, I saw it as a good sign. 
„People who are getting hurt deserve it. You should know how it works.”
I sighed, I knew how many innocent people were hurt by the Avengers, by us trying to save the word, sometimes just causing more damage. I understood clearly what she was referring to. 
„You’re not making the word a better place by doing all this. We can go through it together, not killing anyone.”
She was looking less tensed as Sam was speaking, gently resting her hips on the table behind her.
„How would you like to do that? There’s no place for us, there won’t be without a war I’m about to start.”
„I'm the one to help you here.” My words were careful, trying not to offend her, but firm at the same time. „I have all you need, I have money. I understand your point of view, you’ve been abandoned after the blip, and I honestly understand what you’re fighting for, your point of view isn’t so strange to me. But there don’t have to be so many victims. Innocent victims.”
I emphasized the last words as she was listening to me more carefully now, but still not convinced by anything I’ve said. 
„That money is covered in blood, I’m not taking charity. I’m fighting for more people than you can imagine, they need me. They need my help.”
„Right now, your hands are covered in blood Karli, is that what you’re fighting for?”
She got quiet after Sam’s words. She needed a moment to process it, but she was trusting us slowly, I could see the change in her impression. I rested on the table next to her, still giving her the space to think about it, to leave it all and accept our help. Try to figure it out together, without violence and hate. Suddenly I heard loud footsteps approaching us, realizing it’s over, she won’t trust us, not now, not after what she sees. The door swung open as John entered the room.
„You traitors! I almost believed you.” 
She shouted as more people started flooding the room. She pushed me from the table I was sitting on and I landed on the ground, completely giving up, covering my face so her punches wouldn’t reach it.
„You don’t understand Karli. We’re not working with him, he’s trying to bring us down to, just listen!”
I screamed at her, refusing to his her back, not wanting to fight her. I tangled my leg with hers, bringing her to the floor as I stood up.
„Just listen.”
She looked behind me, seeing John coming our way as she jumped up and started running. 
„You fucking idiot!”
I yelled, trying to run after her, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I looked around, seeing Bucky and Sam handling it pretty well, I decided to go after John and Karli, but it was too late. I found John standing in a corridor alone, panting heavily next to a broken window.
„She’s gone.” He said between deep breaths. „She’s gone and it’s your fault.”
„We almost had it, she was talking to us, she was willing to trust us. You fucked it, not me.”
I said turning away and walking back to the main hall.
„I won’t hesitate next time I see her.”
I ignored him, walking into now almost empty room. 
„You alright?”
Sam asked when I gave him a hand to help him get up.
„Perfect.”
The three of us were walking back to the apartment alone, knowing Zemo is probably waiting for us there. Sam was walking faster, a few steps ahead of me and Bucky.
„Why didn’t you fight her back?”
Bucky asked quietly, not looking at me, but his brows were furrowed as always. I knew he was blaming himself for fighting them, when he saw me just giving up on Karli.
„Steve did the same with you, when you were the Winter Soldier. I was there to help her, not to fight her.”
He hummed in response, probably thinking about the time when he had to fight Steve, when he had the urge to kill him, but something stopped him from doing that.
„I think that’s why he gave it to me.” He was now looking at me, as I pointed my finger at the silver dog tag on his neck, shimmering lightly in the bright rays of the sun. „He wanted me to remember who you really are, to help you if you need it when he’s not around.”
„Then why’d you give it to me?”
He looked at me confused, but a soft smile started forming on his lips.
„I don’t need a reminder of who you are, but I think you do.”
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asgardianhobbit98 · 3 days
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Of Kings, Crowns and Love (Thorin Spring Forge 2024 Entry)
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accompanying art piece by @koyunsoncizeri here!! 😭🩷🩷🩷 it's gorgeous!
Summary: Thorin hears of Rohan’s king’s death, and how his son, moving back home from Gondor, is about to be crowned the new king of Rohan. Normally, Dwarves keep themselves out of the business of men. But something is stirring in the North, something dark and evil that seems to be connected to Gundabad and the fell lands of the East... and having some extra allies is not bad (as he’s learned on his quest to retake Erebor). 
The King under the Mountain officially invites himself to the crowning of King Thengel, where he meets not just Thengel and a mysterious man called Thorongil, but also the new king’s sisters. Falling head over heels for the oldest of the two sisters, Thorin finds himself no longer on just a political mission, but also one of love. 
Fandom: The Hobbit / Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield / original female character
Tags: everybody lives AU, Dragon Sickness, PTSD, First Love, Courting, First Kiss, Romance, Love Letters, Baking
Word Count: around 9157
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Notes: I want to thank the lovely moderators from @thorinsspringforge for this event and the support they offered us all! This was so much fun :3
I also want to give a HUGE shoutout to my artist @koyunsoncizeri who created something so so beautiful (please go check out their art piece for this fic and reblog and give it love!!), which helped inspire me to keep writing when I struggled!! Their talent and kindness knows no bounds! Thank you love 🩷
AO3 link to the TSF24 collection
AO3 link to my entry but you can also read the full thing in this post
Tag list: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @nowandthane
Part 1: The Coronation, Interrupted
Flower petals moved through the air like a gorgeous spring rain. Puddles of colours lay on the floor already. The people must have picked clean huge fields of flowers just for this very occasion, the newly ascended King thought to himself as he stared out over the sea of colours and smiles.  
They would do such a thing too, for him. For today was a joyous and important day in the Kingdom of Rohan. Their wayward and lost prince, Thengel, had returned to take over the crown since his father’s passing. There were, in other words, not just one thing to celebrate, but two.
The crown, heavier than it looked both with burden and physical weight, rested atop his long, golden hair whilst he smiled at unknown faces that saw not him, but his father; who clapped not for him, but for their own relief at no longer being without king; who were happy not for his return, but for their own leadership not disappearing with the life of their previous king.
The colours, the beautiful sight of the petals, was all loathsome to Thengel. He had had a nice life in Gondor. Why, oh why, did his father have to die so soon? He’d hoped to die in some battle before him. But here he was, forced to take the crown because his annoying brothers had skipped town the second they heard their father was on his deathbed.
No one wanted this bloody crown, heavy as it was in so many ways… No one but potentially the faces smiling back at him now. He knew no one. He trusted even fewer people.
Aside from… Morwen. His beautiful wife, stood next to him bearing an equally as heavy crown. Yet, she seemed to carry it with ease. Her beauty, her love, her kindness… They, Thengel thought to himself, were going to be what ruled Rohan. And Morwen, his dear beloved darling, would do it too, even if she would rather spend her time with their children: Theoden and Theodis.
Just as they were going to sit down and start the feast and be one step closer to ending this dreadful day, the large doors to the hall opened. A wind gushed through the place, forcing the petals to blow away from the feasts, some falling into the large beacons of fire to shrivel into ash…
A silence fell over the hall, every gaze turned toward the doors now wide open...
Dwarves.
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Uninvited Dwarves. Six of them too!
Slowly, the leader, the one and only Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, slayer of Smaug the Terrible, and defeater of Azog the Defiler, moved through the hall and up toward the thrones. He avoided all gazes sent his way, walking with intent, determined steps, and with a look on his face that was anything but kind, at least in the eyes of the humans.
“I thought Dwarves were meant to have longer beards-“ With a quick, reprimanding tug at her nephew’s shirt, Maerwyn silenced Theoden’s whispers which were far too loud to be called whispers in all honesty. She stood together with her niece and nephew to the side of the thrones, watching everything play out from the sidelines, yet with equal curiosity as Morwen and Thengel.
Maerwyn, sister to Thengel and born with the same beauty and blonde hair, had been in Gondor with her brother almost her entire life. She mourned her father quite little, having never known him. Thengel was more her father than anyone else.
Thorongil, their mutual, closest friend, stood to her side too, looking amused by Theoden’s words. As a friend and not Theoden’s family, the ranger didn’t have to reprimand the child. So he winked at Theoden, rendering Maerwyn reprimand useless, of course.
Theodis, at an age now that her mischievous brother embarrassed her as she wanted to be as graceful and grown up as her mother, glared at Theoden.  
Once the six Dwarves reached the front, they each took a bow, staying down on one knee.
“We come to pay our respects to the new King of Rohan,” Thorin spoke. He, crownless as he was (and rumor had it he never wore his crown either), had a face everyone knew. He did not have to introduce himself. And he apparently wasn’t going to either.
Maerwyn glanced to Thorongil. As the older (though he didn’t look it) and wiser out of the two, she wanted to see what his reaction was to Thorin’s own invite to the occasion. He looked suspicious, but mainly surprised. Indeed, the ranger was right to be surprised. The Dwarves, as good of an ally as they could be, weren’t known to so openly approach Men for any sort of diplomatic meeting. This… well, this was certainly a surprise.
As Thorin raised his head to speak, his gaze flickered over to Maerwyn for a split second and she felt her heart do a somersault. No one had told her that the great Thorin Oakenshield was so… handsome.
“We come bearing gifts to rekindle a friendship between their people.” The Dwarves stood, upon which two younger Dwarves and one much older rounded Thorin to bow in front of the king and queen, presenting three boxes each. “Myrr from the people of Esgaroth. An embroidered Rohirrim symbol on a tapestry from the merchants of Erebor. As well as a divine set of new bracers and a dagger from the Dwarven smithies of Erebor. You could wish for no finer equipment, I can assure you,” Thorin spoke.
Morwen smiled and graciously bowed to accept the gifts.
Thengel, however… “So you have come to rekindle something ancient, indeed.” It sounded for a second as if this was his way of dismissing the Dwarves and denying a rekindling of allyship. But then: “Welcome.” And with that, Thengel sat down, with Morwen in tow, and the people in Edoras Hall continued to cheer.
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The feast was grand. Tables laced with meat, mead, cakes and everything one could have hoped for had been prepared by servants for days before this, and it all looked as perfect as they’d hoped it would turn out to be. Before long, the lutes from bards filled the Golden Hall’s entire air with joyous music. People sung, danced, drank and ate to their heart’s content. It was a merry occasion once more.
The Dwarves stayed in their corner. All apart for Thorin’s nephews, who had found their way into the crowd of Men to sing and dance alongside them with ease. They’d found Theoden and Theodis, and had danced with the little children for a while before Morwen had sent them to bed. Now they were merrymaking with the adults instead.
The older Dwarves seemed less inclined to mingle or mix with the strangers. And it showed in their way of glaring and mumbling to each other each time someone had the ‘audacity’ of glancing their way or coming a little too close to their corner.
Thengel, watching his people’s merrymaking from the sidelines with a cup of untouched mead in his hand, found it only making him distrust these Dwarves’ intentions more.
“You look troubled, my friend.” Thorongil had appeared by Thengel’s side. “As new King, you should not have those frown lines on your face just yet. Leave that for your first duties.” A joke. But Thengel was far from a joking mood.
“They want something…” he muttered quietly. His gloves squeaked as he closed one hand into a fist. “I just know it. It’s just like those nobles in Gondor, Thorongil. They want things from me because I have power.”
Thorongil didn’t react at first, simply listening to the grumbling of his old friend. “Did I want something from you?”
Thengel scoffed. “No, but you are different.”
“Perhaps they are different too?”
Thengel narrowed his eyes at them, especially Thorin Oakenshield. Maybe he didn’t don his crown, but a crown he had. A whole kingdom that looked up to him and marvelled at his power. What could he possibly want from Rohan? Nothing good… It couldn’t be anything good…
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Part 2: The Feast
Moving through the crowd, Maerwyn approached the Dwarves standing in their corner of the room. Her hands cupped a chalice of red wine, but it was not the reason for her seamless movement through the crowd. They parted for her, bowing respectfully. She was now no longer the daughter of the King. She was the sister of the King. Yet, that was not the reason for people to part for her so quickly and respectfully. Her importance to the kingdom had not changed. But rather, she, herself, was put on a pedestal by all who saw her, it seemed.
This, Thorin noticed as he caught sight of the woman approaching them. Her green eyes flickered between the vessel in her hands, and him, letting Thorin know her intent. Curious, he’d watched her, long since forgetting about the conversation at hand between his fellow Dwarves. Dwalin and Ori seemed oblivious to it. Balin was not, watching Thorin and Maerwyn’s looks to each other with curious dismay.
“It’s not worth it, Thorin-“ Maerwyn had interrupted a conversation as she approached, blinking innocently at Dwalin with an unsaid apology, to which the Dwarf only glared.
There was a moment in which Dwalin wanted to push forward and place himself in front of Thorin protectively, but Thorin was quick to stop that with a single hand gesture. Instead, he stepped forward to greet Maerwyn with a bow.
Maerwyn couldn’t tell whether Thorin had done so to be kind to the sister of the King Thorin clearly wanted something from, or whether Thorin truly had meant his kind greeting.
Approaching guests was unlike her. She stayed in the background, sister to great men, daughter to Kings, doomed to be of a gender that was given little space or power in the Kingdoms of Men. Yet here she was, approaching guests of the King, her brother, without a care in the world. Confidence bloomed through her body, driven on only by the pure infatuation with this one Dwarf’s attractive face, curious whether the Dwarf’s heart might be as attractive too.
“My lady..?” Thorin asked politely.
“Maerwyn,” she replied. “King Thengel’s sister.” She curtsied politely before offering the cup she was cradling in her hands.
Thorin looked confused. She smiled. He smiled. “It is an offer of kinship and generosity to share wine from the same cup.”
“And who else has drunk from this?” Thorin asked curiously, though his voice held a little edge to it.
Maerwyn blushed. “Me.”  
Spurred on by this answer, it seemed, Thorin reached out and took a long sip, lips lingering on the cup as his eyes found hers… with intent. She watched with wide eyes, her blush gone but not because she was not feeling something. Rather, she was too surprised by the Dwarf’s obvious meaning to allow herself to feel anything-  
Then before she could say or do anything else, Thengel’s hand suddenly touched her shoulder.
She was silently goaded to leave, and so she did, her head lowered but a smile playing on her lips.
“You seem happy.” Thorongil said as he walked with her through the crowd.
Surprised he had approached her, Maerwyn nodded her head in agreement. “I’ve never met a man with such reputation.”
“Yes, reputation,” Thorongil said with a little glint to his eyes. “I am sure his reputation was what just motivated you to act.”
She blushed.
“Be careful, my lady,” Thorongil added quickly. “He is a man who has seen much, been through even more, and whose heart is darker than it seems.”
“I see darkness,” Maerwyn was quick to say, as if defending her own choices. Though, she knew, that one needn’t defend one’s choices to Thorongil. He was kinder than most: a man who had seen much and been through more. A man who, perhaps, could understand Thorin better than most. “But I don’t only see darkness. He can get out of it.”
“Few can.”
“Indeed.” Maerwyn put the cup down and gave Thorongil a pointed look. “Sometimes, with a little help, a person can do surprisingly much.”
Thorongil bowed his head. “Just be careful. You’ve only just met.”
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Thengel watched Maerwyn and Thorongil walk away for a little bit before turning his gaze to Thorin. “Few dare come uninvited to a Coronation of an unallied King.”
“Yet here I am,” Thorin replied.
“Here you are…” Thengel said, pretending to ignore the three Dwarves behind Thorin tensing up, ready to step in and help. “Might we speak in private? Outside, perhaps, on the balcony?” Before Thorin could even respond, Thengel was already leading the way through the crowds. With a look back at Balin, Dwalin and Ori, Thorin offered a disgruntled look at Thengel’s behaviour, before following the new King.
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The balcony was positioned to offer a view of the vast fields that made up Rohan. Hills upon hills of green grass that had sickened into a beige colour now that autumn was here.
Far, far away, the outlines of mountains surrounded them. Helm’s Deep, Thorin recalled from his studies, was somewhere there. Among many Rohirrim dark secrets one needed to pass to get to the lands of Gondor the quickest.
Thorin had to admit that the vast openness of the lands of Men made him uncomfortable. Sometimes, Thorin thought to himself, when he stepped out of Erebor, he thought the Sky would fall down on him, or that he himself would float up toward it. It was strange not to have anything above his head.
So whilst he could understand how this was a beautiful view, he didn’t quite share in admiring it the way Thengel was.
Though, something told Thorin that Thengel was merely biding his time so he could gather his thoughts and speak his mind without… offending Thorin too much. A bitterness surrounded Thengel. No man should be too overjoyed by a crown burdening their shoulders, or they would become bad kings, but this much bitterness revealed more anger than a king should have.
“You come here… uninvited,” Thengel began, repeating what he’d said earlier but with agitation in his voice. Thorin joined the man by the railing of the balcony, eyes only just managing to peak over at the view. He tried to stare at it to keep his mind at peace, to try and listen rather than see what Thengel was feeling. To anyone who might catch a glimpse of them, it didn’t look like there was any tension between the two. But oh… there was. “And you demand things of me.”
“Demand?” Thorin asked, astounded and surprised. “I merely wish for a fellowship between our people.”
“Fellowship… Wish…” Thengel grunted under his breath. “People always want things from me. It is never a courtesy call.”
“The burden of a king-“
“The burden of Thengel,” he was quick to interrupt and correct, glancing down to the Dwarf beside him. Thorin raised his chin, eyes curious, and also slightly annoyed at being cut off. “No man ever simply speaks to me. I was and will always be my father’s youngest son, destined to bring news to him of lords and ladies who did good deeds and who would like, very much, to be invited to his court. I escaped to Gondor to try and find peace. Yet it was only worse.”
Thorin understood his meaning. “And now you are back here.”
“And with only more people demanding things from me.”
“I demand nothing,” Thorin tried to reassure him. “I merely wish-“
“Wishing is the lordly way of demanding, is it not?” Thengel muttered. He turned to face Thorin, eyes crueller than they had need to be in this situation. But his trauma spoke for itself, taking control over Thengel in this moment. And quite honestly, out of everyone to understand that, Thorin would be highest on the list. His past did not come without its fair share of trauma. To remain King under the Mountain meant dealing with the Dragon Sickness that never quite faded, a constant vicarious battle between reality and his own demise. Yet, he couldn’t say anything to help Thengel.
Because Thorin’s belief was that there was no one who could help Thorin but Thorin himself. And therefore, there was no one who could help Thengel but Thengel.
“I will think on it.” Thengel interrupted what had turned into a really long silence where both Kings had stared into each other’s eyes. “But I guarantee nothing.”
Then, with a sigh, Thengel waved his hand and offered Thorin and his company a place to stay whilst they recuperated, and to enjoy the feasts and blah blah… The man was done with niceties. He was no fit for a king, but there also was no sight of any of his brothers. No one, it seemed, wanted the crown.
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As Thengel left Thorin’s side, Thorin thought hard on Thengel’s words. A troubled man, indeed. But not without cause. If only Thorin had the communication skills to offer his sympathies, but he had a feeling nothing would come of it but two stubborn men butting heads. He wished, for a split second, that his dear friend Bilbo might be there by his side to do the talking for him. Alas, he was enjoying a peaceful life in the Shire, away from politics and kings.
Good.
The Hobbit deserved as much.
“He is troubled, he means no harm.” The voice surprised Thorin, who turned and watched that curious ranger who seemed to be in the shadows during this feast, yet stand beside Thengel on his throne, approach him instead on the balcony. Hands behind his back, rugged black clothes and cape hiding a toned body, Thorongil remained a mystery to Thorin.
“And who are you?” Thorin asked, his voice a little too pointed to call it a kind question.
“Thorongil is the name people seem to use.”
“Yet it is not your name?” Thorin asked with a furrow brow of annoyance. It was a normal question to ask. Why not answer it?
Thorongil stayed quiet, an amused look appearing on his face. He pretended to watch the view as well. Men really were fascinated by these green open hills, weren’t they? Thorin doubted they’d offer his halls the same admiration, as cruel as that sounded.
“How do you know Thengel?” Thorin asked instead.
“We met in Gondor. We fought together during battles at the borders of Mordor.” Thorin’s spine shivered at the mention of that foul place. “We became friends, I suppose. I never asked much of him.”
There was something in his words that made Thorin tilt his head.
“It seems to be the way to his heart,” Thorongil added. He glanced down at Thorin with a pointed look.
“You mean to tell me I should simply not ask anything of him? Have no purpose for being here? And what, leave without an allyship?”
“Your purpose would be to welcome a new king to your neighbouring realm.” Thorongil gave Thorin a pointed look. “Support will take you a long way, Thorin Oakenshield. I suggest, for now…” Thorongil turned to glance over his shoulder. When Thorin did, he’d only caught sight of Maerwyn’s dress flowing as she rushed away. “For now, you simply enjoy the company.” With a knowing look, Thorongil left Thorin alone.
Men were confusing. Worse than Elves, it seemed.
These were going to be some long days spent in their company.
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Part 3: Early Mornings, Baking and Courting – All Somehow Wrapped in One
The festivities died down a long time ago. Yet, Thorin could only hear noise. Noise from his own mind.
He tossed and turned in his bed, far too big for a Dwarf to begin with. He felt like he was being swallowed by some deep dark hole that would drown him in screams and anguish and growls and pain and dragons and gold-
Thorin sat up with a sigh, rubbing the thoughts and the gold away from his eyeballs.
Sleep would not come to him that night.
With a cold sweat shining on his skin in the faint glow of candles, Thorin stood and put on some clothes that would render him anything but royal looking. Dark robes and a large hood to pull over his head. He meant to walk the halls until morning. To occupy his body and get rid of the restlessness that persisted in his bones whilst his mind surged with dark thoughts.
Fili, his blessed nephew who seemed to always have a third eye for his uncle’s moods, awoke in his drunken sleep. He and Kili had enjoyed last night’s festivities to the fullest.
Groggily, Fili turned and glanced at Thorin. “Uncle…?”
“Go back to sleep, Fili.” How Fili could sleep with Dwalin and Kili snoring as much as they were, Thorin had no idea. But the vast amount of mead Fili had had most likely offered some help.
“Are you alright?” Fili pushed.
“I am just fine. I simply want to go for a walk.”
He didn’t convince his nephew. That much was obvious. But Fili gave in and put his head back down onto his pillow. He fell back asleep instantly. Most likely, Fili wouldn’t even remember this conversation come morning.
Heading out, Thorin wandered the halls, as he had planned. His mind was still clouded, dark, and he truly had no idea where his feet brought him. He found halls that were riddled with cobwebs, unused. He found basements and servant quarters and large libraries. A crypt, too.
But he didn’t explore any of the areas. He simply… wandered.
Until suddenly, he collided with something soft. In his half asleep state of panic and anxiety, Thorin had not noticed someone roaming the shadows, much like him, dressed in dark clothes, much like him, and collided with the figure upon both taking the same turn.
“I apologise- My lady?”
Her hood had fallen back as she’d stumbled against someone. Shocked, Maerwyn stared down at Thorin. “Oh! My Lord!” Her cheeks blushed. Pale skin tinted with emotions she was not used to. “I humbly apologise…” She curtsied.
Thorin smiled. “Please, I should be the one apologising. I was not looking where I was going. I was a fool for not seeing your beauty a mile away.”
Shocked by his words, her beautiful green, almost yellow eyes flickered hither and tither for a moment as she tried to compose herself. “I… I thank you for your kind words, my lord. But I must ask… what are you doing out of bed at this ungodly hour?”
A chuckle arose from Thorin’s chest. Oh… that felt nice. It had been quite some time since someone earnestly made him chuckle. “I might ask the same of you.”
She blushed again.
He liked seeing that blush.
“I was on my way…” She interrupted herself. Her eyes betrayed her as it was obvious she suddenly got an idea. “Might I ask you to accompany me, my lord? If I may be so presumptuous, but I feel you might gain quite a lot from this…”
That was mysterious.
Thorin always thought that he had had quite enough of adventures for a lifetime. He’d dealt with dragons twice too many times in his life; he’d travelled Middle-earth in search of a home far too much… Though, he never quite tired of visiting the Shire.
But Thorin had little else to do that night, and wanted nothing more but to bask in this lady’s beauty for a little longer. So he nodded and gestured for her to lead the way to this mysterious thing that would help Thorin.
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Edoras Hall was built atop a hill, with a view over not just the surrounding Rohirrim fields, but also a view of the town itself. It was perhaps in no way the same beauty as Gondor, with its vast history and great, white walls; but it was, to Thorin, the most beautiful sight in the world. At least right now. He was biased though, as the town presented itself to him as a backdrop to lady Maerwyn. Anything would be as beautiful as Erebor’s halls to him when lady Maerwyn was present.
Her golden hair braided to the side escaped her large, black hood which was cast over her head to prevent people seeing her leave. Why the secrecy, Thorin had no idea. But he found it elicited some sort of youthful rebellion inside of him that only further made lady Maerwyn enticing.
He was unaware that, already, his mind was distracted away from the worries of trying to create a friendship with the kingdom of Rohan, and the dark nightmares that plagued him.
Down the steps they hurried, into the sleeping town with shadows cast over their faces. The sun was beginning to wake, and although there were already a couple of people awake, Thorin felt himself escape himself. As if a freedom permeated his surroundings, hidden as he was. As if for once he wasn’t King Thorin, or Thorin Oakenshield, but someone Thorin had missed being a great deal; a younger, less known Thorin who could stand beside his father and grandfather and not be noticed too much – who could wander the merchant stalls in Erebor with his friends without anyone treating him differently.
And as they approached a little house in the middle of town, and lady Maerwyn removed her hood to glance back at Thorin, eyes making sure he had kept up with her fast pace, Thorin felt that although he was no one with a special title at the moment, hidden as he was, Maerwyn still found him special.
He’d never felt that way before. Accepted for who he was. Even Dwalin, his closest companion, could not see him without his titles. And although that was not a problem in and of itself, Thorin felt… warm. Nice. When seen as just him for a moment.
Taking off his hood as they entered the house, Thorin found himself, to his surprise, in a little bakery. The sweet scent of freshly baked goods and bread was already all around them. Bakers were amongst the first to wake in most towns. Here it was no different.
However, Thorin found that the owners looked a little more stressed than bakers usually did. Still, as they saw lady Maerwyn, they took the time to pause and smile in a greeting.
“Oh how I’m glad you’re here, my lady.”
My lady. So they knew who she was. Thorin was a little dismayed that his anonymity might go away- “And who is this with you?” Oh!
Maerwyn gestured toward Thorin, and to Thorin’s surprise, she answered for him: “This is a dear friend of mine. He wished to help.”
“I’ve never had a Dwarf in my shop,” the owner, flour all over their apron in her hair, said. “Sorry, that’s a strange remark to make. Please! I need all the help I can get.”
Maerwyn smiled and led Thorin toward the back of the shop. Washing her hands in a little basin, she got straight to work. This woman knew what she was doing. Baking bread was no difficulty for her. Thorin found this curious.
But he didn’t comment on it just yet. Instead, he was focused on his own work because…
He might be a skilled blacksmith. He might be a skilled warrior. And on the road, he was not a stranger to hunting with a bow and making some good meat stews. But… baking was not something he’d done much of. Bread was not something Dwarves never ate, of course, but… it just wasn’t something he’d baked himself before.
And so as he awkwardly tried to mimic what Maerwyn was doing, he found his dough lacked… Well, it lacked everything. It wasn’t really a dough. More of a piece of slime.
And much to his dismay, he caught Maerwyn glancing at his work and giggle.
“It’s alright. Here… just add some more flour.” Thorin watched her, finding his gaze locked on her instead of what she was saying and showing. Her teachings went over his head, blinded as he was by… well, everything about her.
So once she glanced at him with expecting eyes, clearly waiting for him to try once more but with the addition of all she’d just taught him, Thorin stumbled once more and created, again, a slime.
She chuckled. And blushed, clearly aware what had just transpired. “How about you just knead the dough? Your strength will do you good here.”
He did not miss her eyes subconsciously glancing at his arms, the muscles which hid beneath his tunic.
And oh was he suddenly extremely motivated to show her that, yes, he did have strength.
He kneaded the doughs so keenly and with such motivation that he most likely looked a fool. Yet, Maerwyn smiled at him and only encouraged and praised his work.
Before long, another person entered the shop: that ranger who was always lurking around Thengel. Thorin’s heart sunk a bit, not because Thorongil would ruin anything, but because Thorin had enjoyed having Maerwyn’s complete attention.
And why was he always around where Maerwyn was?
Jealousy.
Thorin was quick to realise that what he felt was jealousy. Truly, it was unbecoming of him. This lady next to her, arm sometimes brushing up against his, sending shivers down his spine, awakened sides of Thorin that had laid dormant for so long whilst he had done nothing but try and survive. For decades, his life was all about the Dwarves under his charge. His people’s redemption. His people’s survival. His own throne’s return. Now, suddenly, he cared about kneading dough and a lady’s arm brushing up against his.
It was… a welcoming change of pace.
And he did not want it to be disturbed.
“My lady,” Thorongil greeted. Maerwyn smiled and greeted him back… “Sire,” he greeted Thorin.
And then, to Thorin’s surprise, Thorongil took off his rings, washed his hands, and began helping the both of them too.
A comfortable silence fell over them all, and Maerwyn’s little smiles and blushes toward Thorin never stopped. Thorin found it curious, and his mind suddenly realised that he had no idea why he was making bread.
“My lady, my good sir, might I ask of you… why we are helping the local bakery?” Thorin asked as kindly as he could. He’d learned from his nephews that sometimes he was a little too… gruff. Grumpy was actually the word Kili had used, but he hadn’t liked that. Grumpy was what one called someone old. And Thorin surely wasn’t old yet?
Maerwyn giggled when Thorongil blinked in surprise. “You’ve not told him?”
“I fear I quite forgot,” Maerwyn chuckled. “My brother wished for all the people to have freshly baked bread come morning, as a token of his gratitude and as a celebration for their new king. But I’m afraid my brother has always lived the life of a nobleman, even in Gondor or out on the road, so he didn’t quite realise how much work this would be on the bakers. Thorongil and I decided we’d help out. But working with one’s hands can have quite a therapeutic effect, and when I saw the look in your eyes, my lord, I thought I’d bring you here too.” Maerwyn, a bit of flour on her cheek, glanced at Thorin with sheepish, almost worried eyes.
Had she gone too far?
Thorin smiled. No, she had not. Perhaps he might have reacted differently in another circumstance. Perhaps he’d even reacted differently had it been anyone but Maerwyn who had said these words to him. But Maerwyn with her beauty was a welcomed person to dig deeper into Thorin.
And as a matter of fact, Thorin was a little surprised that she’d seen through him so well. He’d not even realised himself that during these hours, Thorin had not once thought of Erebor or its riches. He felt lighter. Lighter than he’d done since he’d taken on the burden of being King despite the Dragon Sickness in his heart. It felt… nice.
She felt nice. Too nice, for him. He didn’t deserve that after all he’d done. Yet, here she was, put on his path to offer her empathy.
He didn’t want to let her go.
“I thank you, my lady,” Thorin replied.
The Dwarf King caught a look between Maerwyn and Thorongil. A conversation Thorin had not been privy to seemed to suddenly come to an end. Thorongil bowed his head in defeat at her, and Maerwyn looked a little prideful. Thorin adored that look on her face. It made her glow. She should be proud all the time, Thorin thought. Someone should make her feel like a queen. He would, if only to see that look again.
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The bakers had bowed and thanked the three of them so much that it had taken them five minutes just to leave the bakery. Once outside, all three of them put their hoods back on and walked back to Edoras Halls in peaceful anonymity.
By now, the morning sun was shining down on the town, and people had awoken. The bakery’s freshly baked bread was a scent that prevailed in the entire town. And when Thorin glanced back before beginning to ascend up toward the halls, he noticed young boys and girls, given a pretty penny to help out, deliver loaves wrapped in cloth to the people.
It was a good day for the townspeople. And, truthfully, Thorin found a newfound respect for the king. Despite Thengel’s demons speaking for him, causing distrust toward Thorin, a kind and well-meaning person was revealed to him through this very ordeal. No king would have thought of spreading food to his people as their first order. Most kings would have thought of themselves.
Thorongil walked ahead, offering Thorin and Maerwyn some privacy. Whether this was intentional or not was not difficult to read. Thorongil had offered a knowing look to Maerwyn before suddenly picking up his own pace.
“I hope you feel better, my lord,” Maerwyn said, breaking the silence between her and Thorin. “You looked so forlorn when we bumped into each other earlier. I wanted nothing but to help you.”
“Few would feel that way,” Thorin admitted.
“Why? You deserve help.”
Thorin grew quiet.
“You speak not very highly of yourself.” The walk up those steps toward the hall made Maerwyn slightly out of breath, yet as she walked beside him, skirts in her hand to keep from tripping, she took deep enough breaths to speak to Thorin clearly. She wanted him to listen. To hear. “You saved your people. You gave them a new home. You defeated a dragon.”
“There are details no one speaks of,” Thorin intervened.
Both paused as they reached the top, turning to face each other. Thorongil disappeared inside ahead of them.
“What details?” she boldly asked.
“I am not myself.”
“We all have darkness.”
“You should not grow comfortable around me. I have days I am no person. There are days I have to lock myself in my room as greed and desire are all I feel. There is, and always will be, a curse on the wealth of that Mountain. And my family, my bloodline, is its prey.”
Maerwyn’s brow furrowed in worry. Not disgust. Not fear. But worry. Worry for him and his wellbeing. Thorin almost wanted to wave it off and tell her to stop being naïve, as he did with Dis, Fili and Kili.
But it wasn’t naivety, and Thorin could see that much.
She meant it.
“Then I will endeavour to find more ways to help you.”
More?
“This was for me?” Thorin asked, gesturing back in the direction of the bakery.
“The baking was for the people. But letting you help was for you, yes. There should be more things that could aid you. I will figure it out. I promise.”
“You have no reason to promise anything to me.”
“And yet I am promising,” she persisted, smiling. “The stubbornness of Dwarves is true, it seems. Yet, the stubbornness of women is equally as true.” She stepped closer, as if wanting to reach out, but her confidence failed her.
Thorin had wished she’d done what she’d wanted.
“You have some flour on your cheek.”
Because it would have meant her touch his cheek.
“So do you, my lady.”
And it would have meant he’d been able to touch her too.
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Thorin and lady Maerwyn did not have many more moments where they could speak in private. So they made their own time to do so.
Somehow, without saying a single word about it, both had found a routine in going to that very corner where they’d bumped into each other each early morning, for a stroll around the halls and some peaceful conversation.
Sometimes, Maerwyn came with some new ideas to distract Thorin from the darkness inside him. She presented painting to him, though he really did not want to even try his hands on that. He was a blacksmith. Painting was too delicate for him.
She also presented writing to him. He did try his hands on that and so one fateful morning…
“I have tried my hand on writing something.”
Surprised that Thorin had done this, not because she did not believe in his artistic abilities, but because she was truthfully not sure he wanted to help himself, Maerwyn had paused in their walk to turn to him. “Have you?”
She wore a nightgown underneath a thick, large cardigan. And she looked as heavenly as always, to Thorin.
With a nod, he assured her that he had indeed done some writing, before presenting a note from the inside of his coat. “I would like you to read it and let me know what you think.”
“I am no writer,” she was quick to say, shying away from the note.
“You do not need to be to see what can be improved upon,” Thorin reassured her.
Slowly, she took the note from him and opened it to reveal his writing. “I adore your writing style,” she praised him immediately. Thorin smiled and watched her. Maerwyn had this peculiar way of finding the positives in everything. The beauty. The good. The kind. And then she would also voice it, whether in praise or to alert someone to what they were good at. It was quite a beautiful thing, and perhaps it looked like nothing out of the ordinary to most – why a little praise was just kindness, and many had kindness! But to Thorin… when paired with her beautiful lips speaking the praise… it was perfection.
Those very words were what Thorin had written in that note of his. Those very words were what lady Maerwyn were reading right now, her green eyes dancing over the words with a speed that spoke of a well-read mind…
And then she blushed and shifted on her feet, not out of uncomfortableness, much to Thorin’s relief, but… joy.
“Are… Do you mean these kind words?” she asked him quietly. “Do you really find me…” She trailed off, blushing.
“I find you beautiful, yes,” Thorin said quietly, but confidently.
She brought the note to her chest, pressing it close to her heart to show her appreciation. A smile graced her lips.
And then both simply continued their walk. But they walked closer to each other…
And their morning walks turned into their own private courting.
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Part 4: The Battle of Love (and Alliance)
“Good morning.” With a curtsey and a smile, Maerwyn, dressed in a green dress that flowed in seamless gentle waves from her waist down to the stone floor, joined her family at the breakfast table. Guests were offered breakfast in their rooms, so these moments were the only ones they had between just themselves.
Theoden and Theodis sat whispering to each other about their day’s plans, clearly looking mischievous. Something told Maerwyn that they were going to spend the day following Fili and Kili again. The two younger Dwarves had turned into the children’s favourite guests quite quickly. And Maerwyn was pretty sure Theodis had a little crush on Kili, which was adorable.
As they caught Maerwyn’s curious gaze, both began to giggle maniacally until their mother told them off. Thengel sat in pure silence, not even having acknowledged his sister’s presence.
Queen Morwen kept sending worried glances to her husband, but kept her head held high and pretended in front of the servants that nothing was wrong.
But Maerwyn was not like the Queen. Silence and patience were not her virtues. So, she reached a hand over to Thengel’s arm, dressed in a silk shirt. “Brother, what is wrong?”
A servant shifted between them, forcing Maerwyn to lean back again, missing the agitated clench of Thengel’s jaw. As more tea was poured into Thengel’s cup, Maerwyn pleasantly busied herself with buttering a piece of bread. A smile graced her lips suddenly, remembering her Dwarf King now each time she saw bread.
“That,” Thengel said. The servant had left, and Maerwyn turned her gaze to her brother again to find him staring at her with a less than pleasant look in his eyes. He was almost scolding her. “That is my issue.”
“What?” Maerwyn asked, her smile gone. It seemed to calm Thengel down.
Thengel did not elaborate on his words, he only quietly seethed in his seat as he said: “I will not agree on a partnership with the Kingdom of Erebor.”
“What?” Maerwyn asked once more, this time astounded at what she was hearing. “But brother-“
“They are here for their own purposes. I am not blind to the reports of darkness up in the north. Things are stirring. Changing. And I know they are here for our support. I will not sacrifice my own men for the sake of Dwarves.”
Maerwyn stared at Thengel in shock. “What has their race got to do with this?”
“They can bury themselves deeper into the mountains if they wish.”
“That-“ Maerwyn took a deep breath. Her brother was a kind and honourable man. Truly. But he was so, so broken and so unsure of himself… She’d hoped Thorongil’s presence would lessen that, but Thorongil was not here right now. “I don’t understand, my lord. There are also Men in danger in the city-“
“And you know this how?”
“I have spoken to the Dwarves.”
“You have spoken to one Dwarf, you mean.”
Maerwyn grew quiet. “I don’t understand your point.”
“You are my sister. You should be on my side. This is a political game. Everything is. No one wants anything from us unless it has something to do with what they can gain from it. Don’t you see? He does not want you. He wants soldiers. Protection.” At this point, Thengel had leaned in closer to hiss the words straight into Maerwyn’s face. “He does not care for you, only for his own skin. He is using you, Maerwyn.”
Promptly, Maerwyn stood up. The chair scraped behind her loudly. Servants paused and stared at her. Theoden and his sister watched her in surprise. Morwen looked sympathetic, but she stayed silent. And that hurt Maerwyn.
“I will not have someone tell me what is and what is not true in my own relationships,” Maerwyn said as curtly as she could, her voice barely above a whisper as she desperately tried to keep her emotions at bay. She’d not noticed how her hands had fisted parts of her skirts in desperation. “Especially not my brother. And not my king. You have it all wrong. You are too blinded by your own self-centred view on life to see how your hurt is hurting others. Not everyone wants something from you. And not everyone will use me to get to you.”
She turned to walk away.
“You will not talk to him ever again!” Thengel ordered angrily, his own chair scraping behind him as he stood but Maerwyn didn’t turn to show she’d heard him.
Tears flooded down her cheeks as she walked with her head held high, as far away from her brother as she could...
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Her hands still clutching the skirts, Maerwyn found Thorin waiting for her in their usual spot later that day. A walk before lunch, around the small but still lavish garden that existed on the top of that hill, overlooking the Rohirrim fields like most views.
Yet, as Thorin bowed his head to greet her with a smile gracing his lips, he found she did not return a smile. In fact, she did not even pause her stride. She stared straight at him, well aware that he was there, but seemed to have arrived with a purpose and a determination that was not going to stop her.
It was part of what Thorin admired about her but-
He was not prepared for what was to come.
She strode over to him with such confidence and sad purpose he found no words. Nor did he find words as she leaned down and kissed him straight on the lips. Her fingers, which had clutched so tightly to her skirts earlier, held onto the sides of his face with a desperation yet gentleness that he’d never thought he’d feel before. Her touch seemed to activate some desperation hidden deep within himself, and he kissed her with a passion he’d never have used for their first kiss otherwise. It was on the brink of inappropriate.
But just as soon as they’d kissed, it was all over again as she recoiled in surprise at her own actions and stared at him with wide eyes.
“My lady?” Thorin asked, genuinely a little worried what might have prompted this.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered out aghast, before turning and rushing off.
It felt wrong to run after her, something in the way she’d looked at him told him so. So Thorin stayed put, trying his best to think of some reason for why this had occurred even if his mind was more on the kiss itself than anything else.
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It was not until later in the evening, when Thorin sought Maerwyn out in her own chambers after not seeing her at any event during the day, that Thorin found out what was going on.
He knocked on her door and was let in by a maid who excused herself instantly, most likely on orders by Maerwyn. Said lady was sat in her windowsill, forlornly staring out over the Rohirrim fields and mountains. Curiously, her chambers were in the direction of Erebor, north.
“I apologise for this improper action, my lady, but when you did not attend lunch nor dinner, I worried for your wellbeing,” Thorin said, staying a courteous half a room away from her.
She at first didn’t react, nor did she turn her head to acknowledge that he was there.
She truly looked… sad.
“My brother is not going to agree to an alliance between our kingdoms,” she uttered monotonously.
Thorin sighed. “I know. He told me so earlier.”
Maerwyn turned to glance at him now, surprised at first, then even more sad than she’d looked earlier. Clearly, she’d hoped something she’d done might have changed his mind. “I am sorry. I think I am to blame.”
Now it was Thorin’s turn to look surprised. He crossed the room to reach her, gingerly taking her hand in his. “And why would that be?”
“I let myself get carried away. Thengel believes everyone is out to get him. Now he extends this anxiousness toward me.” She moved her hand away from Thorin’s. “He believes you are using me. I am sorry.”
Thorin soured a bit and grabbed her hand once more. “Then that is his issue and burden to bear. My original reason for being here is no more. I am here now, for you.”
A little smile graced her lips, but she didn’t dare to fully smile just yet. “But what of the darkness you spoke of?”
“Whatever is brewing in the North in those foul lands will brew no matter if we have extra support or not.”
“You might need us-“
“We will find some other way to beat it.” Before Maerwyn could try and say something anxious again, Thorin shook his head, “We will find some other way.”
She gave in and glanced down at their hands, letting her fingers intertwine with his. Two different people, two completely different sets of fingers, yet it felt so natural and perfect to hold onto him.
“I still am sorry.”
“None of this is your fault,” Thorin reassured. “Yet, you look sad not just because of this. Why did this hit you so hard, amrâlimê?”
“I wanted to help you…”
“You did.” Thorin smiled.
“And I’ve been trying to help my brother. But he is… If I cannot help, there is no purpose to me-“
“Do not say that,” Thorin was quick to interject. “My love, your purpose in life cannot be others. I appreciate what you have done and continue to do. But if you do not value yourself as highly as you value those that you help, you are going to go down a dark path.” He was quiet a moment, watching Maerwyn take the words in. “Disregard the King’s need for help. What is it you need right now to feel good?”
She squeezed his hand, staring deep within his eyes.
Thorin did not have to hear her words to know what she needed for herself, and from him to help her. With a smile, Thorin nodded his head. “Then come with me back to Erebor.”
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Two Days Later.
Thorin kneeled in front of King Thengel. His nephews did the same a step behind him, whilst Balin, Dwalin and Ori were standing with their heads bowed. A public declaration of gratitude for the visit was occurring, and as King Thengel spoke his pre-practised speech, Thorin only half listened.
The tension that was in the hall was not just from everyone being fully aware that Thengel was going to publicly declare his denial to help Erebor and the people of Dale.
There was also tension because Thorin and Maerwyn would declare their own decision…
Secretly, Maerwyn’s maids were smuggling her luggage out through a back door and down to the horses and ponies. It was not like Thengel would or could force Maerwyn to stay. She was but a sister, so to speak, to the king and there were no laws granting him that privilege over her. However, Thengel might grow angry and Maerwyn’s kind heart would feel conflicted leaving on such notice. She and Thorin had already discussed it. It would be better to have the opportunity to simply leave whilst he was yelling at them rather than be forced to walk back and grab her belongings, giving Thengel time to use sympathy to make Maerwyn stay with him.
It sounded awful. Neither Thorin or Maerwyn wanted to talk like that about Thengel, truthfully, but his hurt and his trauma was evident in his actions. And they would be stronger than his love for his sister.
As silence fell over the hall, Thengel’s speech done, Thorin and his nephews stood back up again. The two kings bowed their heads at each other.
Then… “As for the proposed friendship between our peoples…” Thengel cleared his throat. Beside him, Morwen encouraged her husband with a smile. On the other side, Thorongil was peacefully watching.
Perhaps those two peoples’ reactions should have prepared both Maerwyn and Thorin for what was to come. But they were so adamant that they had all the information that they fell blind to what was happening right before their eyes.  
“I publicly declare that the Kingdom of Rohan is now an ally of the Dwarves of Erebor and the Men of Esgaroth!”
A silence followed his words. Until he smiled and laughed at everyone’s shocked reactions, and people suddenly cheered and roared. Lords and ladies clapped their hands in ecstasy, because an allyship was always good.
And Thorin… Well, whilst his nephews elbowed him in the side with happy looks on their faces, Thorin still was not quite sure this was real.
Not until Thengel approached and offered his hand to Thorin.
Slowly, Thorin shook it, and the two kings nodded their heads at each other.
“What changed your mind?”
“People told me to weigh the consequences. I’d not only lose an ally, I’d also lose family.” He smirked. “You thought I wasn’t aware of your and Maerwyn’s plans? I am King of these halls. I hear everything.” He sighed, letting go of the handshake. “I am trying something new, King Thorin. I hope you can prove to me that this something new will not end up as bad as I think it will.”
Thorin bowed his head. That was a promise he could keep. “Thank you, my lord.”
Thorin glanced to the side where Maerwyn stood, stunned and with her hands over her mouth in shock still. But she looked happy. And so he smiled at her, along with Thengel who had turned to check what Thorin was looking at…
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Hand in hand, Thorin and Maerwyn led the entourage of Dwarves down the steps from Edoras Hall. The towns people had gathered to clap and wave the guests and their new allies off. Most looked shocked at the sight of their lady Maerwyn going with the Dwarves. But it was a silent message to all that Thengel’s sister had found her home.
Before either of them took the reins of their horses from the two stable boys standing at the end of the steps, Maerywn and Thorin turned to each other and kissed in front of all. A gentle kiss to publicly declare the truth.
Behind them, Theodis was waving at Kili with a blush on her own cheeks. Kili played along and sent an air kiss her way.
With people cheering them on now, Maerwyn and Thorin turned to Edoras Hall standing proud on the hill, and waved one last time at King Thengel, Queen Morwen, their children and Thorongil.
Helping Maerwyn up on her horse, Thorin took the reins from the stable boy to his own pony, but paused to glance back to this Thorongil one last time, curiosity in his eyes.
But he found Thorongil was suddenly gone, nowhere to be seen. As if his goal had been accomplished and he’d left the scene to keep doing whatever a ranger did…
Shaking his head at that, for some reason thinking that this was not the last time Thorin would meet Thorongil, Thorin climbed up onto his pony. He reached out for Maerwyn’s hand and rode with her beside him down the town of Edoras. Maerwyn glanced back once to wave goodbye to her family. A big smile was on her lips.
“Will you miss them?” Thorin asked her.
“I don’t think so. I have all the family I need right here.” She leaned over to press a kiss to Thorin’s lips…
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comment cheat code:
❤️ - I loved it! 💛- Please write more for this pairing/fandom!! 💙- HOW DARE YOU?? /lh 🤍- don't reply to my comment, please (I'm shy/anxious/don't want to talk today/don't like the feeling of being acknowledged when reading on AO3) 🤎- showing support for this / extra kudos 💚- twas okay 🖤- meh... have read better
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smeltbracket · 10 months
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“you know what? maybe spending time with people you love is what gives your life meaning”
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bluerosefox · 8 months
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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
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liliacamethyst · 11 months
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Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 3.7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.
Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.
However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.
You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.
One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.
"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.
He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."
There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.
In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.
Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.
During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.
But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.
This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.
And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.
Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”
You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.
Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.
You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.
As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”
Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”
You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.
Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”
You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”
“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.
Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”
Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”
You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.
"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.
Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.
"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.
He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.
"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."
“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.
“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.
Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.
He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”
“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”
He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”
He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”
“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”
The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.
“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.
Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.
“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”
Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.
“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”
You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.
Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.
Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.
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The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.
The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.
The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.
"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.
You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.
The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.
"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.
You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.
Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.
You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.
Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.
With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.
The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”
The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.
“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.
Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.
“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.
Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.
Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.
Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."
Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.
"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.
Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"
Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”
Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"
Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.
"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.
"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.
“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.
“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.
Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”
Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.
Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.
Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”
“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.
Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.
After she leaves, the trio leans in.
“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.
Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”
Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”
They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.
As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.
"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.
"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.
There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.
"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.
"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”
Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.
"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."
Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."
You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.
"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"
“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.
You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”
You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"
Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”
“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”
There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.
Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”
Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”
Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."
You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.
“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 
They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.
Part 2 “Webs of Fate”
a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx
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sttoru · 7 months
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♯ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒.
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⊹ sypnosis. you’ve been teasing kento for too long and he finally shows you the side of him that you’ve yet had to discover. . .
⊹ tags. dom!kento nanami x female reader. smut. p in v -> unprotected, standing doggy, pussy slapping, uhm hand riding if that is a word, teasing, edging, hair pulling, size difference (srry im a slut), voice kink, bondage ?, degradation kinda too, mentions of creampies, change of positions at the near end. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’.
⊹ note. recent jjk ep made me weak . inspired by the many nanami scenes ihihi got lazy at the end tho uhm only proof read half of it
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“come here, sweetheart.” it didn’t sound like a request coming out of your lover’s mouth — it sounded like a rough demand.
kento was fed up with your little games. he’s a man of patience; knows how to keep himself calm and collected whenever you try to be a little brat and get him fired up about something.
but, when kento came home - already furious about an incident that took place during one of his missions - his patience was tested once more. you greeted him at the door with a short dress, one that allowed him to catch a glimpse of your ass.
your feigned innocence ignited a fire in his body. a desire that begged to take over; a desire to show you that he’s not playing along with your games today. especially when you knew what you did by avoiding his touches — whenever he’d reach out a hand to touch you, you’d run — wanting him to chase you around the house.
you succeeded, but not in the way you thought.
you glance back over your shoulder as you run to the hallway where the bedrooms were situated. you neared a dead end and let out a nervous giggle at your predicament. the slow, steady footsteps of your lover got closer and closer to you: kento was right around the corner.
“i said,” kento’s deep voice echoes throughout the empty apartment, your breath hitching in your throat as his intimidating presence makes it way up to the other side of the hallway, “come here.”
you needed to mentally stop yourself from letting out a quiet moan at just his voice. it never failed to make your panties wet on the spot. hell, you can’t even remember how many times your partner had made you cum from simply talking you through it.
your eyes were staring right back at kento’s. he was quietly walking towards you, taking all the time in the world. your back hits the wall softly as you stumble back, “kento, baby, ehhh—i was just joking around, i swear. . .”
kento doesn’t react at all. his facial expression stays the same, his scowl not disappearing in the slightest. he slowly rolls up the sleeves of his blue blouse and takes off his glasses. that was enough of an indication that he was indeed mad mad.
“you should’ve just did as i told you to,” kento sighs.
in the flash of an eye, the blonde man stood right in front of you. his body easily towered over yours, his eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown whilst his left hand reached out for your waist. kento held you there for a second before suddenly turning you around with force.
your chest presses against the wall in front of you. the only thing you were able to hear was both of your heavy breathing along with the sound of kento undoing his tie. you really didn’t know what you had just gotten yourself into.
“stay still like that for me.” kento mutters under his breath as he fumbles with his tie a little. he wasn’t in a rush to punish you, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to ruin your cunt as soon as possible.
he skilfully keeps your wrists together behind your back with his black dotted tie wrapped around them, “good. you need to be reminded of your place here.”
kento’s sultry voice rings in your ear as you tried to catch a glimpse of him from your peripherals, though your movements were a bit too restricted to fully turn back around. you didn’t even realise that you had been rubbing your thighs together to create some friction — wanting to satisfy your own lustful needs by just having your lover treat you like this.
it was a very rare sight to see kento this pissed off. you wanted to push his buttons some more to see where it’d take you tonight.
the blonde sorcerer mutters something incomprehensible under his breath once he sees what you were trying to get at. he ogled your lower body, one hand even coming down to turn the hem of your dress upwards, revealing the plump flesh of your ass to his eyes.
“didn’t know my girl was this smart,” kento comments in a quiet whisper, his warm breath fanning over the skin of your ear to your neck, “you seem to have prepared for this outcome beforehand. my compliments to you, darling.”
you were wearing his favourite panty of yours—the black lace and crotchless one. what a tease you were.
his fingers travel from your tied wrists to the inner area of your thighs. kento spreads them apart for you, using just his index and thumb to create a gap where his big hand would perfectly fit between. his rough fingers were already busy taking off your underwear,
you were silent. except for the few noises of both embarrassment and anticipation that left your throat. especially when you felt the cold air hit your exposed pussy, a small line of sticky wetness gathering between your lips due to the situation.
“what a naughty thing you are. . . hah.” kento shakes his head as if in disapproval. the more he talked, the more wet you got and the more you stuck your butt out towards his pelvis — clearly wanting to get fucked already.
your eyes widen as you get a reaction out of him; his callused palm makes direct contact with your entire cunt, however in the form of a firm slap. you couldn’t contain the squeal you let out.
“ngh, fuck!” you huff as your body tingled from the contact. kento cupped your pussy gently with one hand, the other patting your hip twice to encourage you to move and grind against his palm.
he wasn’t vocal with his orders anymore since his mind was too preoccupied with the sight of your body in front of him.
you didn’t even need to be told what to do. you instantly moved your hips in a grinding motion — the palm of kento’s hand warm to the touch. a few moans fill the air around you as you took great pleasure in riding his big hand.
“just like that — perfect.” kento praises you in a hushed voice. again, his gruff voice was almost enough to send you over the edge. it sounded more. . frustrated than it normally would. like he needed to release that tension in his body.
the tip of his index and middle finger tease your clit for a few seconds. you could’ve sworn that you saw white from just how good it felt. you couldn’t fathom how you’d survive his dick—if he were as nice as to give you it,
“please fuck me. please? need your cock in me so bad.” you shamelessly whimper all of your wants and needs to kento. he simply takes them all in with an unchanging expression as he keeps his gaze at your ass and not your eyes.
he knew that he’d give up any remaining restraints if he stared into your eyes. that pleading look you give him each time you beg him to take you never fails to do its job.
“patience, sweetheart, patience.” kento hums shortly whilst gently slapping your bare cunt thrice as a punishment for speaking up and making him ‘lose focus’,
he was entranced by the faint wet sounds your pussy was making against his palm. though, nothing compares to the skin-to-skin contact he was going to make with your ass once he gets to stuff you full of him.
“can’t — can’t, kento, pleas—” your desperate plea was cut off instantly as kento’s free hand moves to grab a handful of your hair. he tugs your head back harshly and makes you look at him to prove that he wasn’t joking or playing around anymore.
his eyes held an intense and almost condescending look in them. kento had never looked at you like that before or during your acts of intimacy; he’s always gazed upon you like you were the light of his life. right now it’s more like he’s staring at a. . . plaything. like he couldn’t wait to take out his frustrations on you and your delicious body that he craved so intensely.
his jaw clenches as he sees your lips part to protest again. that’s when you decide to shut up completely. you look away and gulp—this side of kento was surprising, yet also extremely arousing. especially with the way his buff body was almost enveloping all of yours.
the veins that ran down his arm as he grabbed your hair bulged out even more, as did the little veins in his neck. it sure is a sight that could get anyone wet, you think to yourself.
“mhm, good girl.” kento nods in satisfaction and slowly lets his grip on your hair slip, though not fully. you had nowhere to escape to - not that you wanted to - but the fact that your hands were tied and your body was pinned to the wall by your lover made you squirm in excitement.
kento uses the hand that was on your cunt to unbuckle his belt. that familiar sound made you tighten up around air as you tried to steal a glance at his hard-on.
as expected, kento’s cock stood up straight, pre-cum trickling down his pink circumcised tip, a vein apparent on the length. his fingers wrapped around his girth and he pumps his erection a few times before standing in position right behind you.
kento wouldn’t just push inside of you without edging you first. he smears his pre over your folds, running the tip from top to bottom, one hand spreading your buttocks nicely so he could get a good view of what he’s doing.
“use your words for me or i will not do anything.” the blonde man utters whilst teasing you with the head of his aching cock — he wanted to be buried deep inside of your walls already as well, however not without you begging him to.
his grip on your ass tightens and your hips push back towards his in response, “please—please put it in already— kento. .”
your whines were certainly working on the grade one sorcerer. a few of his blonde locks fell in front of his eyes, the hair he tried his best to keep neat now turning messy the moment he dipped his tip between your pussy lips.
you instantly tried to grip onto his cock—clenching around him like your life depended on it. kento grunts and pulls at your hair again as a warning not to repeat that action.
“you asked for this, sweetheart.” kento grunts. that deep grunt made you tighten up around his cock again, your sloppy cunt wanting to swallow it entirely already.
that sealed the deal—your lover couldn’t hold it in anymore, “don’t want to hear any complaints from that mouth of yours, understood? now—”
you didn’t even have time to react as kento thrusted his entire length into you at once. one fast thrust was all it took for you to arch your back and loll your tongue out slightly, lips parted to let out a moan, though nothing seemed to come out of your throat.
“take it. just take it for me, yeah?”
it wasn’t a question - once again - more of a demand. you mindlessly nod along and kento took that as a sign to keep ramming into your cunt repeatedly. his hands traveled down to your hips to keep you steady against the wall, urging you to push them towards his a little by putting a palm on the small of your back.
kento’s low groans of pleasure sound from behind you with every single in and out movement — his tip hitting near your cervix each time, making his rough motions both painful yet pleasurable. your mind was foggy, with only thoughts about his dick. it was visible to your lover that you had turned completely cock drunk in such a short span of time;
“look at you,” kento chuckles as one hand goes to harshly grab onto your jaw, turning your head to the side so he could see the dazed look in your eyes, “i haven’t even started yet, darling — come on. keep those pretty eyes open for me.”
his thrusts became almost unbearable as his frustrations were now apparent in his actions. the loud skin clapping noises fill the hallway, your ass coming in harsh contact with kento’s pelvis, the flesh jiggling—which kento doesn’t let go unnoticed.
he stops for a few seconds - just before you were about to reach your climax - which makes you groan out in disappointment. kento doesn’t mind this and just continues kneading your butt in his large hands, keeping his cock right in your tight cunt.
“since you were so desperate for it,” your lover whispers whilst letting his arms fall to his side, leaving you completely untouched with the only stimulation being his girth stretching you out, “you’ll have to work for it. come on.”
you let out a huff, but knew better than to complain when kento had given you a warning beforehand. ‘no complaints’, you repeat in your mind.
you move your lower body, fucking yourself back on his cock as kento stood there behind you — watching you desperately move your hips back and forth, his thick dick disappearing between your puffy folds, only to reappear again and again.
it was a sight that could make any man cum on spot. the way you were glancing back at him to watch his reactions added to the pleasure.
“mhm, i knew you could do it.” kento nods in approval, his jaw clenching as he felt his balls tighten up, already wanting to dump a load into your greedy pussy.
you felt his cock twitch slightly and saw how his hands formed fists at his side — the veins on his forearms once again visible to your eyes. it was such a hot scene and you didn’t know if you were able to hold on much longer.
kento notices this and stops your hips from moving. he wordlessly picks you up by the back of your knees, still making sure to keep his cock inside of you.
your back was pressed against his chiseled chest, your legs bent at your knees as your feet dangled in the air. you knew what was coming.
“no, no,” kento groans under his breath as he effortlessly keeps your body up against his—his dick twitching and begging for its release to be buried in your womb—
“hold it in for me. you only get to cum when i say you can, sweetheart.”
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ro-is-struggling · 4 months
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Self care || Bucky Barnes x Reader
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Summary: Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.
Warnings: established relationship, brief mention to Bucky’s past trauma, a fuck ton of fluff, my little knowledge of skin care lol
English is not my first language
Word count: 2200
Notes: this was inspired by a dream I had. I thought it was cute and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I wrote this little thing. If it doesn’t make sense, blame my dumb dreams lol
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It was one of the first times you slept over at Bucky's place that you discovered he didn't have a skin care routine. He would look at you cleansing your face from the bathroom door, watching you apply creams and serums with a mixture of admiration and confusion in his expression. And every time you picked up a new product, he would ask you what it was and what did it do. 
It didn't really surprise you, most of the men you had dated tended to use a small number of personal hygiene products and usually the facial skin was only treated with soap and water. And if that was men your age, it was to be expected that Bucky and his over one hundred years of age were not aware of the benefits of skin care.You found his reactions kind of adorable. It wasn't every day that you caught Bucky acting with the naïve curiosity of a child, and you couldn't help but laugh as you answered his endless questions.
"Please tell me you at least wear sunscreen." You said and Bucky remained silent. "Oh my God, Bucky!" you complained, explaining to him how dangerous the sun was for his skin.
"After all I've been through, I don't think a little sun is going to kill me, doll." He laughed, coming up to you to hug you from behind. You wrapped your arms around his, smiling at him in the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 
The bastard knew how cute he was —looking at you through the mirror with blue eyes full of love—, and he was using it to his advantage to keep you from scolding him. He was probably right, the super soldier serum surely protected him from skin cancer in the same way it protected him from hits and falls that would be fatal to the rest of humanity. But still, it wouldn't hurt him to take care of himself a little every now and then.
"You smell nice." Bucky praised you, inhaling the subtle floral scent the creams had left on your skin. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling your sensitive face. You laughed and he knew he had won.
"Don't think you're getting out of this so easily." you warned, tilting your head to the side so you could kiss him. "Flattery will get you nowhere!"
From that day on you decided that you would put together a skincare routine for Bucky. Super Soldier serum or not, everyone's skin needed a little help from time to time. And besides, you believed it was something that could benefit Bucky in more ways than just one. It would teach him to take better care of himself and to value the precious 'me time'. And god knew he needed that. So you made a mental note to buy a couple of products for him the next time you went to restock some of your kit and stopped thinking about it for a while.
That was until one day Bucky came home tired from a mission. You didn't quite know what he had to do and he didn't want to tell you much about it either when you asked him. Not knowing tore you apart, but you respected his wishes and didn't press the issue, deciding to help him in a way that wasn't invasive. You started with running him a bath, filling the tub with warm water and using some of your bath salts and lotions to create a more relaxing environment. You insisted on taking care of him, although Bucky didn't put up much resistance, surrendering to the soothing power of your caresses on his hair. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp, coating it with shampoo to remove all the dirt before rinsing it and repeating the process with conditioner.
He still found such intimacy a bit strange. Even though he enjoyed it, he still wasn't completely used to being cared for with the affection you showed him. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with such love and care that he could hardly remember it. But he felt safe in your hands, happy to have you in his life. A light of hope at the end of the dark tunnel of agony that had been his life. That was what you were to him. His second chance to live, to love. So he relaxed under your touch and let your gentle caresses take all the tiredness and worries out of his system.
But your pampering didn't end when Bucky got out of the tub. After he changed into his pajamas and laid down on his side of the bed, you emerged from the bathroom with a small white bag in your hands. You rested it on the nightstand and began pulling out various products he recognized from your skin care routine, arranging them in a nice neat line. 
"Doll... what are you doing?" Bucky asked, looking at the pink cat-ear headband you held in your hands. It was the one you always wore when you did your makeup or skin care routine, a tool you used to keep your hair out of your face while you worked. He always thought you looked adorable when you used it, but he didn't understand why you were directing it at him this time.
"Taking care of you." You replied as if it were obvious, "I want to show you the benefits of having a good skin care routine." Bucky hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to your soft smile and the sparkle of enthusiasm in your eyes. There was nothing he could say no to if you looked at him that way.
He gave you a slight nod and you took that as a signal to continue. You climbed onto the bed, settling onto his lap with one leg on either side of him, so you could face him and work more comfortably. Bucky put his hands on your hips instinctively, the cold metal of his fingers giving you goose bumps at the unexpected touch. But you didn't move them, you liked his hands there.
"First we have to make sure your hair is out of the way." You announced as you placed the headband on his head, making sure no hair was out of place or near his face. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as you admired Bucky wearing the accessory. The pink, furry cat ears looked so out of place it was ridiculous. The clear feminine energy of the headband clashed against the distinctive masculine look on his expression in a fun and charming way. It made him look adorable if you were honest, especially when he smiled at you. He could definitely pull it off.
"How do I look?" Bucky asked, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. 
"Adorable." You replied between giggles, before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
When you broke apart, you began your skin care routine, taking a piece of cotton and your favorite micellar water to cleanse Bucky's skin. He looked at you closely, taking advantage of the position you were in to admire your beauty up close while you concentrated on soaking the cotton ball in the liquid. You were the most beautiful woman in the world, he was sure, and not only that, you were kind and loving too. A wonderful person all around and he still didn't understand how he had managed to get you by his side, but he was happy about it.
"Why do you have to clean my face? I just showered." Bucky mumbled with his eyes closed, feeling your delicate fingers on his chin as you ran wet cotton across his face.
You let out a giggle. "Water is not enough! And regular soap is too harsh on the skin of our face, so you need to use a cleanser or cream that is meant for the face."
"I never heard about that." Bucky frowned, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.
"Because you're a guy and guys are used to using one product for everything hygiene related."
“That’s not true!” he tried to defend himself, although he didn't sound very convinced.
You decided to skip a few steps in the routine to keep things simple. The idea was not only to pamper Bucky and help him relax, but also show him that maintaining a skin care routine didn't have to be complicated and could bring him many benefits. So you went straight to the eye cream, taking some with your ring finger and carefully applying it to the bags under his eyes.
"Stay still! You're gonna make me poke your eye if you move like that!"
"It already feels like you're poking my eye!"
"Don't be so dramatic!" You laughed, men really were cry babies. "Just close your eyes and trust me." Bucky grumbled, pouting. You planted a quick kiss on his lips, and that seemed to please him because he kept his eyes closed and stopped moving. Carefully, you spread the eye cream over his dark circles, giving his skin time to absorb the product before proceeding with the last step.
"What is that?" Bucky asked you curiously as you reached for the last tub in the line of products. 
"It's a night cream. You're supposed to use it at night after you wash your face to keep your skin moisturized."
"Isn't that what the other cream did?"
"No, silly! That was just for your under eye area, this helps hydrate the rest of your face. We need to give back all the good things we got rid off when we cleaned your skin of all the dirt and oils clogging your pores."
Bucky made an annoyed face, muttering about how complicated it all sounded. But the truth was, he was enjoying the extra attention you were giving him. He had you all to himself, the warmth of your body enveloping him in a comforting embrace as your fingers gently massaged his face. He couldn't think of a better definition of paradise than that. Just the two of you sharing an intimate moment, far from the horrors of the outside world. He could commit to a skin care routine if it involved at least a third of the pampering you were giving him at that moment.
"You don't need to use much," you continued your explanation, dipping one of your fingertips into the cream before bringing it up to Bucky's face. "Just a little bit here, here, here... and here." You painted a couple of white dots on his cheeks, forehead and chin, kissing the tip of his nose before applying a bit of cream to the area. It was such a cute and intimate act he almost blushed.
The first thing Bucky noticed about the cream was the scent. It had a light rose fragrance that was familiar to him, comforting even. It traveled up his nostrils as you massaged the cream into his face, sparking a warm and fuzzy feeling inside him. It took him a few seconds to understand that it was because that was the same rose scent he recognized on your skin whenever he kissed you, that sweet floral scent he had learned to recognize as home. He finally knew he had your choice in moisturizer to thank for it. 
"You're using your cream on me?"
"Yes, it's the only one I had. The perfume doesn't last long, don't worry. I'll buy you an unscented one tomorrow."
"No, don't! I like this one, it smells like you... it's like having a little piece of you with me all the time."
You didn't expect him to say that, so you weren't prepared for the tingling warmth of love that coursed through your body. The idea that he wanted to keep you close at all times, that he recognized your scent and found comfort and safety in it, made your heart melt with love. Bucky was normally a man of few words, and tended to show his feelings with other things rather than words. Acts of service were his most common way of showing how much he loved you, although he also resorted to spending quality time together whenever you had free time. But every once in a while, he would manage to drop a sentence like that, which in concise words made it clear how much he loved you. Always taking you by surprise, he would drop them at the most casual moments, leaving you completely stupid for a few seconds as you processed his words and wondered what you had done to deserve having someone so wonderful in your life. 
Bucky gave you a shy smile, cheeks turning pink under your gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He looked so adorable that you couldn't help but join your lips with his in a slow, loving kiss. He reciprocated immediately, one of his hands leaving your waist to cradle your cheek, pressing you tighter against him and deepening the kiss. 
"I love you," you muttered against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as you gazed into his deep blue eyes.
Bucky smiled, feeling the last bit of stress evaporate from his system thanks to you and your sweetness.  "I love you too."
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celesteleoves · 9 months
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“IM SORRY, I DIDNT MEAN IT.”
.ೃ࿐ GOJO SATORU X fem!reader
summary: satoru comes home tired and exhausted, so exhausted he lets words slip that he didn’t mean.
warnings: gojo yells at reader but doesn’t do anything otherwise, reader cries a bit, profanities, reader thinks gojo is going to get aggressive (he never would), angst at the start and fluff at the end!
a/n: first jjk drabble, cut me some slack pls 🧎‍♀️ —
he never got angry, he never let his frustrations out on others, he was always composed and energetic.
that’s how you would describe your boyfriend satoru gojo, he was cheerful and always lightened up your household in seconds the moment he entered it and when he left, it felt empty.
you knew how it is in the sorcerer world: hard, exhausting, draining, frustrating, and sometimes enjoyable. but satoru always pushed through how exhausted he felt and gave you a big smile when he got home.
but today, gojo would be too tired to keep up a cheerful front and was just exhausted. he was so drained from the countless missions he’s had this week he was bound to snap at one point.
you prayed he wouldn’t snap at you, though.
bustling around you and gojos shared kitchen, you made his favourite meal and desert, happily making it in hopes it’ll cheer up your tired lover.
you finished making his favourites and were about to call him to see when he’d be home when the front door opened, shutting with a click of a lock and the sound of gojos keys clanking as he threw them on a nearby surface.
“satoru! you’re home just in time.” your soft voice normally would’ve had satoru jumping off the walls but everything was off today. satoru hater how he was feeling.
he was irked at everything, he even snapped on nanami which left the blonde staring at the white haired man in shock as gojo stood up and walked away from the other sorcerer.
“yeah.” gojo lazily mumbled as he shoved past you, walking towards your fridge and getting himself a cup of water.
frowning, you ignored his actions and began talking about the meal you made as gojo added ice to his glass of water.
stop talking, just stop. gojo let out a quiet groan as you happily talked about your day. too bad he couldn’t reciprocate your energy, he was so angry at everything.
his lanky body moved towards your dining room table, flopping down on one of the chairs as he spread his legs to feel comfortable. placing the cup down, he held the bridge of his nose as you practically yelled to him about dinner from the kitchen.
you hadn’t noticed how aggravated he seemed with your voice and instead continued making a plate of food for him while telling him facts about your day and who you had seen while visiting jujustu tech, only to not find him there (he was on a mission, AGAIN).
“and so, i made your favourite! i know you really like this dish and these are your favourite sweets, so i bought some of those and…”
your voice was blaring in gojos head as you walked over to him, holding his plate in your hands with a smile on your face.
his eyes were worn out, sullen and dark as they stared at you from his hands.
he couldn’t handle this, he was going to snap.
“can you just fuck off already? just… shut up!” he growled, his words taking extra long for you to register as you began to stutter, small tears forming at your waterline as you blinked at gojo.
gojo looked up at you after noticing the silence, only to see you shaking. the plate of food in your hands looked as if it was about to tip over and create a mess on the floor. the plate of food YOU made just for HIM.
your boyfriends eyes widened as he watched you clumsily place his plate down infront of him and back away from his sitting form.
“i- um, im sorry, satoru. i’ll give you space.” you mumbled as you tried to hold in your emotions. your actions showed you felt fear, you were scared of him in this moment because he did not look like your satoru.
satorus eyes widened as he felt his heart drop. did he seriously just do that? why would he do that? why did he yell at you like that when all you were trying to do was be there for him and keep him filled with joy during tough times like these.
he watched you sway and shake as you walked away, his legs moving quicker than he expected as he hugged you from behind.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” satoru whispered into your neck as his arms latched around your waist.
you froze, turning around and looking at your exhausted boyfriend clearly.
he looked so tired, so drained you almost didn’t recognize him. you scolded yourself internally for not noticing it sooner.
your heart softened at the sight of your first and last lover crumbling in your arms as he apologized profusely.
“shh, it’s okay ‘toru. i shouldn’t have been all over you when you needed space.”
“no, i should’ve let you. i need you more than ever.”
his voice shook as he spoke, looking up at you while scanning your face. you looked so gorgeous, so pretty for him today and he felt awful that he didn’t tell you that as soon as he stepped foot through the door.
“it’s okay, baby. i get it.” you smiled at him as he let a soft smile grow on his lips that were in a frown.
“lookin’ so stunning today, sweets. you’re amazing.” he grinned at you as you jokingly rolled your eyes.
“thank you, i know.” you teased him as he pulled you into a kiss, slow and lovingly before beginning to tell you about everything that happened with him this week.
you both sat at your dining room table as you occasionally fed satoru his food and added onto his words while he talked about missions, his students, and more.
you two loved eachother, and no matter how stressed out or drained you are; you made a deal to always be there for eachother, no hiding anything.
.ೃ࿐
please leave tips, requests, or anything of the sort! i’m open to any requests or suggestions 🤍 enjoy babes.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Ok ok yes I’ve got a million things I’m working on, don’t yell at me. Just hear me out!!
Simon is given a solo mission, per usual. He’s to find and neutralize an enemy “computer tech” that’s been creating programs and viruses that are even causing Laswell’s people some issues.
It’s a simple enough job. One he’s done a thousand times over with perfect execution. Nothing personal, even if most squints are barely a step above civilian. He doesn’t lose sleep over it, things have to be done.
Pure luck that your get held up by 4 silly minutes. Four minutes that put you just behind Simon as he breaks into your home, leaving the door ajar. Four minutes that have him clear your house, realizing you’re not there, just as you slip inside and discover a huge scary man with a gun staring in confusion at your cat-ear headphones.
And well… you tase him.
Like, a lot.
And then you cuff him with the set you find on belt. To the radiator in your bedroom.
When he comes to, you’re not even there! You’ve taken a break from the whole situation, hoping a snack will make things less scary. (It doesn’t but at least you’ve got some food in you.)
Then when you walk back in, you see him awake, see him glaring. Audibly announcing “nope” and walk out again. Have to psych yourself up for fifteen minutes before creeping in again.
“I’m… hi,” you say. “So um…. What are you doing in my house…?”
And anyway, that’s how Simon gets “abducted” by an awkward, nervous, sunshine hacker who Did Not realize her employers were Bad Guys.
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ohmygraves · 3 months
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ghost, but as your fake boyfriend.
you were panicking.
your mother had called earlier, asking if you could come home for a few days. apparently, your brother had returned from overseas, and she called to let you know that every single member of your family would be there. a small family reunion, if you will. of course, she expected you to show up too, perhaps bring that boyfriend of yours you always told them about.
which was a problem because one, you don't have a boyfriend, and two, you have lied to your family for years and now it's come to bite you in the ass.
you didn't even know why you did it in the first place. perhaps the constant pestering and questions about "when will you get married?" is starting to bother you, especially when it came from so many of your relatives, wondering if you'd settle down already instead of being out there in danger all the time. perhaps you just want them to leave you alone and stop worrying about your wellbeing. after all, you're an adult, and it's just annoying to hear the same thing over and over again every single time when you went home for christmas.
so, you created this narrative of a "boyfriend", who you'd talk about when your parents called. a boyfriend who is tall, handsome, and loves you for who you are. a boyfriend who you'd live with and maybe plan on marrying too in the future. a boyfriend that is so much of a textbook nice guy that your family would approve of even if it sounds too good to be true.
you're not sure who to ask. soap would be your best bet, but he would be away on a mission at that date. which was unfortunate, he seemed really excited to play fake boyfriend with you. gaz just ran out of leave for this month, so he's out too. price is too old, your family would question it.
that leaves just one person...
"lt, can you do me a favor? please, just this once."
ghost turned towards you, leaning back and letting you explain. you told him that you need him to be your fake boyfriend for a family event.
unsurprisingly, he was very quick to stand up and leave you alone, not wanting to deal with your bullshit. still, you catch up to him, trying to convince him with whatever it is you could offer.
after a few rounds of convincing, tailing him for three days and nights, constantly pestering him, and some offers of the finest whiskey and whatever he wanted, ghost finally relented. it didn't take long for the two of you to fly back to your hometown two days before the family reunion, the two of you taking a week of leave from the base with very little trouble. you assumed that ghost had something to do with it.
before you arrived, you had to give him a rundown on what to expect, what questions will be asked and how to answer them for it to make sense in the web of lies you've created. he was definitely not thrilled, telling you that he got this... whatever "this" was supposed to be. you were nervous, hoping that things will actually go well.
surprisingly, ghost did keep true to his words. walking into your childhood home, he held your waist, keeping you close to him, even would act nicer to your nosy relatives (which, of course, was not surprising when you feel his grip got tighter around you).
dinner was quite cozy, everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and kept asking you if you two will end up married. ghost said something vague that made you blush, and while it embarrassed you, it got everyone to stop talking about it.
when the crowd dissolved, you took ghost to go see your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind him as you thanked him for doing you a good favor, and that you won't forget all about this. you didn't even realize that he stepped closer to you, too absorbed in gushing how successful the night has been, pulling you close and planting a kiss on your lips. it shut you up.
"... did you just kissed me?"
"mmhm. i reckon i deserve at least that, huh love?"
"i suppose you do..."
he kissed you once more. well, at least you won't have to lie about your fake boyfriend anymore.
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darkbluekies · 3 months
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Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic
You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.
Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you
Be mine (you have no fucking choice)
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Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader
Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.
Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol
Word count: 4.3k
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You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 
“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 
“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”
You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 
“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”
“No, Silas, I’m going home.”
Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 
You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 
It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.
He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 
“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 
You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”
“Because she’s at the house?”
“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”
“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”
“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”
You push past him.
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A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 
You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.
However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 
You hold the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 
“Hi, Ares”, you say. 
“How the fuck did you get my number?”
“I did some digging.”
“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”
You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 
“What did you want?” he asks. 
“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”
“Sure. Now?”
“If you can.”
“Yeah, I’m not busy.”
You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 
“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 
“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”
Ares smirks.
“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”
You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 
“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”
“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”
“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”
“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”
“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”
“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”
You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 
“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”
“You are an ass too”, you remind him.
“Better than Silas, though.”
You scoff and roll your eyes.
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Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.
“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”
“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”
You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.
“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”
You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 
“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.
But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.
“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”
“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”
“Have you hit your head?”
“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”
“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”
“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”
Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”
“I had help.”
“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.
“Ares.”
Silence. 
“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 
You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.
“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 
“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 
“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”
“Y/N-”
You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.
When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 
“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”
“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”
Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 
You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.
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Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!
“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”
“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”
“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”
“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”
“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”
Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 
“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”
“Right”, Silas responds. 
“Which countries are you banned from?”
“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”
“So, one of those countries.”
“But which?!”
“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”
“Spain?”
“Bingo.”
Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.
“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”
“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”
“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”
The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 
He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 
He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 
He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.
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Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 
“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”
“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 
“A shot will help with that.”
“I don’t drink, you know that.”
Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 
“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”
“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 
“Not only-”
“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”
“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”
“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”
Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”
Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.
“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 
The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”
“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”
“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”
You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”
Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 
You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 
“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 
“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 
“Let’s keep it.”
Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 
“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 
“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”
“I guess.”
Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.
“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 
“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”
“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”
“You betrayed me.”
You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 
“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”
Silas seems to be taken aback. 
“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”
“But I betrayed you-”
“I know, but I can’t kill you.”
“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”
“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”
You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 
“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”
“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 
“Vodka.”
You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 
“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 
“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”
He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 
“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 
“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 
“Then stop me.”
You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.
The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.
You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.
You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 
After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.
“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”
You've never felt so helpless.
Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.
“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”
Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.
Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 
Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 
He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.
“What?” his second in command asks.
“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.
“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”
“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”
“What happened with your brother, by the way?”
“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”
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When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.
Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.
“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.
Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.
“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.
“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.
“Aren't you a fun lad?”  
“Where is my phone, by the way?”
“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”
“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”
“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”
“Obviously with good reasons.”
Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 
Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.
“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”
“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 
You get the hint immediately. 
“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.
“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.
“This is going to be a stable relationship.”
“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”
While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.
“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.
“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”
“Sounds good to me.”
You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.
941 notes · View notes
backwzzds · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ domesticity, könig
könig got off to watching you be a mother.
könig hated to admit it. the way he inevitably got turned on whenever he came home from long missions. the way whenever he’d walk through the front door of your home, muddy and dirty boots immediately being taken off by the welcome mat so he didn’t stain the innocence of your home with his trauma and duties from work—the bludge in his pants grew at the sight of how you lived such a domestic life.
he was sure his view was a sight that nearly every man wished for at some point in their life. he felt blessed. blessed that no one else at his base had the privilege to come home to this. with you holding a chubby baby full of fiery strawberry blonde curls—undoubtedly belonging to him—on your wide hips, so full from giving birth no more than two years ago.
your daughter was a bit on the paler side despite having beautiful brown skin, and you always wondered if your genes even fucking tried to show out for you when creating her. she looked and acted so much like her father, the only way to probe that she was yours were your shared lips and her having your hair texture. everything else belonged to könig.
“papa wird bald zu hause sein, kleine liebe,” you reassure your daughter of her father’s return home soon as she began to grow cranky, a daily sign of her missing him. you had just finished breastfeeding her, and that was evident in the way the majority of your tits stuck out like a sore thumb from one of your man’s thin wife beater shirts. hey, you were home alone with nothing but pretty trees and bush surrounding you.
könig couldn’t help but smile at the back of your head as you hummed her a little song as you stirred your pot of food. the way your braids were tied down in a bright pink bonnet, the way the fat of your grown woman body hung out of your booty shorts that did nothing to hide the swallow of your ass, and how your white painted toes filled themselves in your fur slippers. the primal hormones in him filled with testosterone practically rushed to the blood of his dick as he watched you dance around the kitchen with your pretty baby.
this how you got pregnant in the first place.
every day he was grateful he decided to snatch you up and take you back to his home country with him. the way you adapted to his culture the way he did yours—you made sure to teach your baby her two native languages, english and german.
no one knew where you were, and könig liked it that way. you three could play house in peace for the next few months, at least until his next deployment. it was the safest option for you. to take you both out the states where his personal life could possibly be exploited.
no one knew where in austria exactly könig was from, making it harder for anyone to possibly track down his pretty little family. you were able to work in peace without having to worry about someone finding about your husband’s real job and eventually figuring out where your daughter went to daycare. it was peaceful for you in austria. as far as the neighbors knew, your husband was in the military occasionally on long deployment missions.
not exactly a lie.
he was never 100% at ease leaving his two girls anywhere, but he knew that if you were at least living in a place that he knew like the back of his fucking hand, his anxiety would calm down just a bit while on missions.
you fall completely deaf to the sound around you as your daughter babbles in your ear while you cooked. the delicious aroma of your wonderful food fills your husband’s nostrils as he finally decides its time for him to finally come out the shadows.
your baby continued to babble things in german-english as you began to plate food only for yourself like you’d done for the past six months, completely unbeknownst to the masculine presence behind you.
“my pretty wife always manages to make such delicious meals,” the hoarse voice manages to startle you to the point where you drop your pot spoon on the floor. “been starved for a plate, lover.”
your daughter turns her head before you do, and immediately fights to be put down from your arms. at the sight of her father, she gives a bright two-toothed grin and opens her arms. “daddy daddy!”
könig wastes no time in ripping off his mask and plastering a big kiss on his baby’s cheeks. “meine hübsche prinzessin,” he greets, engulfing “been a good girl for mommy, yeah?” the ice blue eyes question as they falter over to you. you’re still standing in shock that könig chuckles at the innocence on your face. the same one he’s been in love with for years now.
he didn’t blame you though, you didn’t expect him back for at least another two months.
könig wastes no time in walking over to you, and of course the first place his hands touch are your wide hips. his pink lips smash onto your brown ones and he wastes no time in engulfing all of you into him.
he doesn’t miss the way that small tears fill his shirt. he knows you’ve been alone in a secluded area, in an almost foreign place where you hardly knew anyone. he knew how lonely you must of felt having to do all this by yourself. he was here for you now.
god, he missed you. his good, pretty little wife.
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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"Harry— fuck, fuck, this is bad—"
He grunts, resisting the urge to roll his eyes down at the woman beneath him. His large hands are pressing firmly into the flesh of her hips, creating temporary dents underneath his dull nails. Half-moon crescents are the only reminders she allows him to leave, even though her husband stopped caring to show her any pleasure or affection years ago.
"Of course it's fuckin' bad," he mutters throatily like if it's the most obvious thing on planet earth. And maybe it is — it probably is, considering he's over at her place for their weekly rendezvous while her kids are at school and her husband's at work.
Harry only met Y/N because his twins attend the same elementary school as her own children. And from the second he set his eyes on Y/N on the first day of school, he knew.
He could smell a desperate housewife from a mile away. She may as well have had a sign on her back that said my husband is a twat, he doesn't want to fuck me, and he wouldn't care about making me cum even if he did. From that point on, he made it his mission to one day feel her come around his cock — only, he hadn't anticipated it becoming an ongoing tradition for the past six months.
Today is Wednesday, and while Y/N's husband thinks she does the food shopping and cleans the house and whatever other stupid homely tasks he assigns to her, Harry always comes over at 11 a.m. on the dot and fucks her into their mattress until she's crying.
This day is no exception to their regimen — not as he issues harsh, stinging slaps to her ass, rolls her swollen clit beneath his thumb, or bounces her on his length. He always makes sure she finishes at least twice, cleans her up, and plants a kiss on her forehead before he's sneaking out the back door, narrowly avoiding the security cameras her husband had installed for... whatever nonsense reason.
"If you think it's so fucking bad, leave him," he grits out through a clenched jaw. Her pussy is squeezing him so tight that he feels like he could explode at any given moment, even if Y/N's mind is far away right now. She glances up at him with wide, shocked eyes.
"You don't mean that," she replies breathily. This time, he does roll his eyes.
"We've been fucking behind his back for months. I'm not telling you to leave him for me, I'm just saying, if you want a morally clean compass— shit, stop clenching around me like that—"
"Just shut up," she mutters, winding her hand around to grip at his short hair. She barely manages a grip — he cut it a few months back, but she'll admit, she can't help admiring the way it's growing in. "Just shut up and fuck me, Harry."
He scoffs, though it's quickly cut off by the yank of her hand and the quick bite of pain from her digging her fingernails into his scalp.
"Whatever you want, mama." he forces out, groaning as he slams his hips to meet hers, "Whatever the fuck you want."
1K notes · View notes
romanoffsbish · 7 months
Text
The One That (Almost) Got Away
Natasha Romanoff (Intersex) x ChubbyMilf!R
GN!OC (Ryan) x Fem!R (Freshly divorced)
Natasha’s not the step-dad, she’s merely the dad that stepped up | WC: 9,218
Warnings: Ryan is dickhead coded | R Ghosted Nat so she is too | Confusing Feelings | Insecurities all Around (Body / Worth) | Everyone’s Horny | Happiest of Endings Though 🥰
Smut: Natasha has a penis | Oral - Both | Multiple Positions (Wall / Doggy / Guided Dick-Riding) | Praising / Degrading | Dirty Talk | Face Slap (R) | Heavy on Breeding | KO (R) | Needy R -> Cockwarming | Switch Energy but R basically Bottoms
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——
Natasha watched you intently, just like she always did, and just like every time before now she wasn't left disappointed. Well, besides that time when you married Ryan, you looked gorgeous stood up at that altar, but you were painfully mismatched. They were the first person you had ever dated, but you never truly loved them. You loved Natasha though, she knew that deep within her yearning soul, felt it deep in her bones, but alas you chose the stable familiarity over love.
Natasha told you every time you two had made love that she wanted the whole thing, but you were in a committed (open) relationship. You had a child with another, and you decided she (deserved better) wasn't ready for that sort of responsibility. So, for the both of your sakes you had stopped coming over a year ago, without a word of goodbye—like a coward.
It broke you just the same, but at least you had a distraction with your infant around. All Natasha had was the haunting memories of a genuine love and, dangerous missions, a nearly lethal combination. It was only last month that the redhead stopped being reckless, which coincidentally, is exactly when she had heard of your unexpected divorce proceedings.
Tony had very loudly, intent obvious, offered a sobbing you a spacious, well-equipped place to stay since Ryan decided to kick you out, of your house. He also got you a better divorce lawyer. When she pestered him for a why though he had refused, stating 'you'll know soon enough' in the most ominous, almost threatening, way.
The reactions to your tumultuous entanglement around the compound were mixed. Most thought you two were a great match, those who met Ryan felt this way, others felt Natasha could do better than the girl who left her hanging. Then there was Tony, who alone believed the both of you to be aloof little cowards.
Ergo his childish response. Yet here you were, at the compound she still lived in, and she still hadn't been informed... It was driving her crazy, but she kept her cool, or at least she tried to, but you made it hard.
So damn hard not to run over and yell at you, just to then kiss you breathless, then she figured she would yell at you some more; but with less clothes, and in a passionate reunification of two desperate souls.
But she stood stuck to her spot, wishing desperately that she had Wanda's handy ability to read minds...
You stood across the field in a moment of uneasy silence. Pepper had to leave in a hurry, Tony excused himself with a promise to return. So now, without distraction, you were left lost in tumultuous thought.
Ryan and you had called it quits just six months ago after you gave birth to your sweet little girl, Delilah. To the outside world they looked like a bad guy, but with one peak into the carseat hood that currently shielded your daughter from the sun, everyone would know.
Know that maybe everyone was a bit wrong here...
There was only one rule the both of you set, don't let anyone else create life with you, and with Natasha's enigmatic charm you broke it easily. Ryan was still somewhat involved with Carter, but they denounced you and Delilah instantaneously. You knew better to expect anything else, but you were too petrified of being alone with two littles to see it all clearly.
Fortunately though, Tony adored you and had set the three of you up in a cushy upscale home just outside of the bustling city. There was a park on the corner, it was your only safe haven as you waited for the divorce to finalize, it was where you processed your grief over the entire situation, and realized this was always the way life would work out. One day the redhead would be there with you, scooting down the wide, curvy red slide with Carter, and Delilah giggling in her lap.
It was an inevitability of the rawest proportions.
You couldn't stop loving Natasha if you tried, which you halfheartedly did, and she loved you without the intent to stop—fate finally felt the need to intervene.
You felt her burdened gaze the moment you entered the party, and you were burning under the weight of it. There was a blip of fear that she would never forgive you for keeping her daughter from her, but you also figured she'd understand. If you were going to work as a couple, it had to be without Ryan's interference, and they were hellbent on making sure you weren't happy even though they were with Rochelle, the supermodel.
If you so much as contacted Natasha they were ready to claim this was always your plan. Not that they'd have much of a leg to stand on, but you weren't risking them winning so much as partial custody, simply because it was just to spite you. Ryan never wanted to be hands on, it seemed they more so liked the title of being a parent and spouse, but never the actual role. If they had won you know your son would only suffer.
Disappointed was an understatement, but you didn't hold pity for yourself because everyone warned you of their immaturity from the jump. Natasha warned you everyday leading up to the wedding, she pleaded with a hurt that broke your heart wide open, yet you were stubborn, and now you are right where you deserve.
The fear of a harsh reaction held you back from approaching her, hearing an 'I told you so' or a 'what did you expect to happen?' wasn't exactly something you could handle. Even if it was what you deserved, so, you decided to leave it to her. You wanted to give her the chance to take the first step in case she was only seeking to scream at you for breaking her heart and never returning any of her calls or texts, and oh yeah, for the icing on the fucked up cake you'd baked you would have to add keeping her child from her.
Natasha couldn't focus on anything but you since you had arrived though, she actively willed you to look up at her, but she soon realized you were purposefully ignoring meeting her gaze. The ill advised thought that even when single that you wouldn't want her around broke her spirit down into nothingness.
Was she really not good enough for you?
Who was she kidding? Of course she wasn't... You were clean of a harsh origin, with a compassionate aura that bled right into your ability to be an amazing mother. Natasha wanted kids, yours specifically, but with her cold upbringing she feared she would never be what they would need, and in turn she would let you down.
Natasha didn't get to linger in her sadness for long before Maria was nudging her shoulder. "For fucks sake Romanoff, could you at least pretend to be interested in my plights?" She was reminded of the riveting conversation she'd been engaged in moments prior with a raging Maria and an instigating Wanda. Her silly relationship problems with Danvers no longer interested her when she was faced with her very own problems rooted in an extended period of longing.
Natasha rolled her eyes, and adjusted her pants to better conceal the hard on she was suddenly sporting. You just looked too good, motherhood had only ever enhanced your beauty, her purest desires for you only surplussed after your son's birth. It pained her so that you'd lived like your beauty was lost due to a miracle, and it was that night that she showed you otherwise.
The night she gave actual life to her love...
Ryan had made the first distasteful comment, it was why you were at the compound that day after all. Using the free gym six months out from your son's birth, which was fine, but you were indeed overdoing it since you had a bad back, and it was Nat who stopped you.
"Y/N, you need to take it easy, you like just had a baby," she'd tried to help, but you glared at her with angry tears in your eyes. "It's fine Nat, I need to do this. I am literally in terrible shape, I am so ug—," you'd muttered in obvious frustration, but she didn't dare let you finish your sentence. She took you right there on the mat, then again in the showers, and finally she took you to her bed and gave you all of her love.
That wasn't the start of your sinful relations, but it was the beginning of the deep lines officially blurring. Where the love the two of you felt for the other was finally released through breathy moans, soft kisses and the heat of the moment filling of your barren womb.
Every time you didn't see the beauty in your body she did, and she reminded you so well... It was not a shock to you when you saw the test; more like a total relief.
Natasha obviously knew something happened, it changed everything for her, because you and her best friend, Carter, were no longer coming around. The redhead actually sobbed on his first birthday, and she still has all the gifts she bought for him in her closet.
Wanda followed her best friend's gaze to you, and she smiled sadly. The witch was the first person you came crying to over the news, and it hurt her heart to keep this secret from Nat, but she knew that today was the day it all changed. You were going to make it all right.
Your divorce was finalized after Tony's lawyer put Ryan in their place. The open marriage was their choice, you had proof that they pushed you into agreeing, so the judge deemed your daughter's paternity a natural consequence. Now that they lost, they moved outside of city limits with their younger lover, and you contently remained in the upper-scale house, the one that didn't burden you with memories.
"Go talk to her Nat," Wanda encouraged, "Take the chance, I promise you it'll at least be cathartic."
Natasha sighed, "She's better off without me."
The redhead kicked up a cloud of dust as she sent one last longing glance your way. Her heart stuttered at the sight. You'd moved, this time her eyes found you leaning back against a table. A soft look in your eye as you watched your giggling son, Carter, clumsily chase Morgan around the field. It'd been awhile since you've been back here so you were involved in a conversation.
The grey sundress you wore was perfectly hugging your curves, and the skirt of it was flowing with the light breeze, giving her a glimpse of the silky skin of your legs beneath. It was tastefully cut, but it still allowed her to see the curve of your swollen, sagging breasts.
Natasha's eyes were focused in on the way you sucked on your popsicle though. Her cock twitched in her boxers as she saw you hollow out your cheeks, her dick longing for the oh so familiar feeling of the gesture. You mindlessly wiped away the sticky mess of artificial juices with your fingers, and her eyes were locked on them, you lifted them to your lips to suck off the sticky mess and it reminded her of that time she'd shoved hers, covered in your shared arousals, down your throat. It was the most intimate moment she'd ever shared with another, and that made her resolve fall.
The redhead couldn't stand any of it anymore, not the ache in her chest, nor her boxers, so she rushed inside the compound, ignoring the awkward stares. The door that slammed afterwards caught your attention.
Tony shoved your arm. "Go after her Y/N!"
You stared down at the stroller, admiring the peace your daughters sleeping face brought as your nervous fingers fidgeted with the strap of the diaper bag. You felt nothing but guilt after a moment though when her little eyes fluttered open to reveal a sea of familiar green. You began to wonder if Natasha would be better off without you since all you seem capable of is hurting her. All she's ever done is pour her love into you, and you actually ghosted her—the perfect woman. The longer you thought it over, the sillier your reasons felt.
Tony invited you over for this barbecue to celebrate his retirement, but you weren't dumb enough to not know why he wanted you to come. Steve, and Natasha were also retiring, the notion that the redhead was giving up this life regardless of you made your skin crawl.
Was she retiring for you? Did she know you are divorced? You knew Tony blabbed a lot, so it wouldn't surprise you if that's how she had found out.
Or was it for herself? She'd earned the right and it was a bit narcissistic to think you played any part here.
Did she have plans to find the life she wanted with someone else since you were a coward? It would only serve you right, you knew you didn't deserve her.
Tony saw the turmoil in your eyes as you picked at the foam, he gently pulled your hands from the stroller, and nodded to the door with a stern expression. "No..."
"Y/N," he sighed, ready to fight you for being a coward, but then his face fell in offense as you spoke, "You are not exactly baby proof Stark." The man scoffed, "You can't be serious, I am a perfectly functional dad!"
You deadpanned, "You are the fun dad to Pep's productive. You have her while Pepper is at a meeting and Morgan's shirt is now on inside out, she's ate off everyone's plate and if my eyes aren't deceiving me, she has a contraption from your lab. My son better..."
Tony immediately took off and you giggled, enjoying the moment of peace just before your daughter began to cry. If only Nat would have waited a minute she'd have seen you pull the tiny redhead from the stroller. It was uncanny how similar to Natasha she was.
Infuriating was more like it really, you carried her for ten excruciatingly long months, and all she got was your hair texture, lip shape, and unfortunately—temper. Everything else was Nat, aside from the blend of her skin tone, it was a beautiful mix of you both.
"What's the matter lyubov'?" You coo'd and pulled the sniffling baby girl to your chest. Unaware of the presence of your former teammates behind you. Wanda beamed at the knowledge of you learning Russian for your daughters sake, she knew Nat would likely cry at the notion too, but Maria merely gasped.
"Oh my gosh, is that Romanoff's?!" Wanda elbowed the nosy woman, at this point she wondered if Maria being the second in command for Shield was a good idea with the way she loved to gossip and tease. "Mhm..."
Wanda's hand fell on your shoulder, you were never much for staying silent, so you simply humming gave way to your obvious anxiety. "She's only crying my dear, because she knows you have unfinished business to tend to." You turned to her with a teary gaze of your own and she used the pad of her thumb to wipe them away in comforting strokes. "Hand me my niece, and go fix things with Natasha dorogoy, it'll be okay."
Delilah instantly stopped crying, her wobbly head turned slightly as she recognized Wanda's voice. The two shared excited smiles, one adorable and gummy, and the other accompanied by the faintest of wrinkles to show a long life lived. Wanda's nose was scrunched as she regarded your daughter with pure elation, and you had no qualms leaving her behind with Wanda.
"I'm sorry," you whispered as you passed her off, and Wanda wrapped her arm around your waist to offer you a comforting embrace. "All is forgiven as long as you don't fumble this time. Tell her how you feel, and let her feel it all too, she'll understand and forgive."
You nodded, offering a nervous smile then left in a hurry to get to the woman you wanted to be with for an eternity, hopeful that she still wanted the same as you.
The way to Natasha's room was quick, your muscles remembering the route without any need for a refresher. The path now forever engrained into your heart as the safest one. You pondered knocking, but then you heard the most gut wrenching sobs and felt the urgent need to push the door right open. As you opened the door though you were met with a far different sight than you had anticipated.
The sobs were ones of pure sexual frustration.
"Oh fuck!" You'd gasped at the sound of her raspy voice, the gorgeous redhead was leaning her head against the glass of her vanity as she jerked herself off with a pair of red lace panties that you'd left behind.
Natasha watched you in terror, her stomach tied in a more dreadful knot now that overpowered the arousal she needed to release. Once the shock wore off you stepped in, expression neutral as you shut her door with your foot, then used your powers to lock it.
"Y-Y/N, I can explain," she stuttered as you were silently approaching her. "How about you just let me take over instead, yeah?" Natasha nodded, her mind in a trance of sorts as she allowed you to remove her hand and use your own. The strokes you gave were feather light, but just because it was you she was on edge.
Pre-cum dribbled onto your thumb, and you used it to lube up her cock, and make your hand have a slicker surface to increase speed. You felt your panties dampen the longer you stroked her pulsing shaft, eyes locked in on the way her mouth was hung open, and her moans were raspy, melodious gifts for your ears.
"Y/N," she gritted out your name as her cock twitched with an increased warning, but you abruptly let her shaft go instead, and she sobbed without shame.
Natasha was frustrated with you on so many levels, but this had her feeling embarrassed. The way that she hasn't been able to get off without a piece of you in over a year shameful. Then when she was finally about to climax, with the real thing, you took it from her...
Again—you just kept taking, and taking from her, and now she was unsure if she had anything left to give.
"We need to talk," she rasped angrily and you nodded, but then you dropped to your knees with a wink. "We do need to talk Natasha," you purred her sentiments against the sticky red tip of her cock, reworking her mind into a haze as you prepared to give her head.
"Shall we do it now then?" You asked teasingly, but with your mouth inches from her throbbing member she could only frantically shake her head. "Later," you hotly voiced for her, you kissed her tip then licked her essence up with a soft flick through the sensitive slit.
All Natasha offered was a delayed, husky, "Mmm," too engrossed by the exhilarating sensation of your warm tongue swirling around her shaft as you slowly lowered your head until the tip of your nose brushed against her fuzzy abdomen to say much of anything else.
This was exactly what she needed. You knew it was only a matter of time before you two would have to face the reality. But, for this brief moment in time, you wanted to use your mouth to pleasure her, to soften the blow if you will, as you gave a physical apology.
After proving to yourself that you could still take all of her you pulled back and let her slick dick go with a pop so that you could admire it. While keeping your eyes locked on hers you lowered so you could lick a slow stripe up from her balls, over the underside of her shaft, flicking over the pulsing veins; building her excitement way up until your lips finally wrapped back around her head to give her some overdo pleasure.
"Oh fuck, I've missed your perfect mouth," she cried out, her hand suddenly fell atop of your head and she used all of her strength to still your bobbing so that she could fuck her cock deep down your throat instead. It was never not uncomfortable to be gagged for you, but your dampening panties gave way to the enjoyment.
Natasha felt even hotter as your excess drool pooled at the base of her shaft and slowly dribbled onto her balls. It was like every one of her senses was heightening as she felt as her auburn pubes became matted and clung to her balls. You felt it too, as they swung with each deep thrust and slapped into your sweaty skin.
There was no way the moment could improve, or so she thought, because with a firm tug on her sack, and the hollowing of your cheeks as your throat contracted around her tip she was no longer in control, her release torn from her with a throaty scream that made your arousal increase tenfold, and stain the black carpet.
The familiar taste of her was enough to bring you to the edge of glory, coupled with the way she continued to fuck your throat without so much as a thought to your needs arousing and you found yourself painfully ready to bust. Her cum was inched down your throat with every continued thrust, and you moaned along happily as you continued to suck her dry, all the way up until her member fell flaccid in your mouth.
You were nearly there, your thighs rubbed together just right, but the redhead would be damned if you were to waste your cum on her carpet instead of her readied tongue. "There's no going back after this Y/N," she rasped against the shell of your ear as she pulled you to your feet while tucking her cock back into her briefs. "If I kiss you now, then you are mine for the claiming. Understood?" You hated so much that her glossed eyes shone with immense fear and hurt.
"Do it," you pleaded, a part of you hoping that what you are going to say later doesn't change her promise; you desperately wanted to be hers for good. "Please!"
Natasha gripped you by your hips and pushed you back onto the bed as her lips met yours. Her skilled hands unclasped your bra while her tongue slowly swirled around yours, tasting herself and silently vowing to never let you go a day without being filled by her in someway. All she wanted was to be yours, and make you hers in every sense, and that included breeding you, but not before she gave you the sloppiest head.
"God, you're so hot Y/N!" She practically screamed, the need for emphasis obvious. The way she stared down at your forever changed body with admiration made you want to cry. You gulped as her eyes trailed up to yours, she offered you a loving smile but her heart broke at the sight of your petrification. "Don't lie..."
Natasha was going to kill your ex. One final mark...
"Oh my beautiful girl," she sighed, her hot breath brushed over your slick mound and she admired how your body twitched and arched at the pleasure just a breeze gives to your cunt. She placed a gentle kiss to your clit, but kept moving up instead so she could kiss the stripes that adorned the plush skin of your belly.
"You are the hottest woman around detka," she admitted without any waver in her voice, her nose nudged against the soft skin of your stomach as she wordlessly continued to admire your body and the sacrifice you have made twice now. "I can't wait to etch more of these lines, to stake my claim to your womb."
You whimpered, but something about the sound wasn't rooted in pleasure, so she came back up to hover your face. "What's wrong detka, am I moving too fast?"
You smiled sadly, and shook your head, "No, it's just.. I-I," you couldn't help but to stutter now, "The claim is already yours Natasha, and it always should've been."
You don't regret Carter, how could you? In spite of all the turmoil surrounding him, he was a lovely toddler. With a natural curiosity to keep him fun, but a cautious approach that kept him safe from the lingering dangers of the world. Your son was the definition of perfect, and was never regretted, you merely rebuke Ryan.
"How so?" Natasha challenged, and you gulped, "We divorced because Delilah is yours Nat, our daughter."
"Yeah," she sighed with a sad smile, "But this time I'll be around to help as your body changes, to take care of you as you deserve while carrying my love around."
It stunned you to see nothing but love and solace behind her eyes, she wasn't angry, she was visibly relieved. Which meant this wasn't exactly news to her.
"You knew?" She nodded, and you felt your throat go dry; of course she did, Natasha wasn't regarded as a top tier spy for nothing. You frantically moved to defend your decisions, "I-I wanted to tell you Natty, but I was so scared." Natasha kissed your trembling lips tenderly in an attempt to cut off your anxiety, and for a perfect moment there was nothing but peace.
"I understand," she eventually whispered as she parted from the kiss, "You couldn't be sure of your feelings, you were only six months postpartum when we made her." Her, Delilah, Natasha's precious mini me that she'd yet to meet and the product of a destined love.
"No," you insisted, "Please do understand that I was never confused about my love for you. Every time we made love that ring would burn on my finger like the devil himself possessed it, because the greatest sin I've ever lived was pretending not to be in love with you."
You watched her eyes narrow in confusion and sighed resignedly. "You deserved someone better, I knew I wasn't enough for you. You're a model with a heart of gold, and I'm just a—." You were both momentarily stunned as her hand made contact with your cheek. The both of you blinked back your shock, and after she saw you were okay her eyes completely darkened. "I'm going to kill them Y/N, they deserve despair for ever making you question even an ounce of your beauty."
"Natty no," you pleaded for Carter's sake, "I mean yeah, Ryan wasn't good, but they were a bad I deserved," you saw the way her eyes narrowed and your speech flinched, "I-I am trying to say that you were too good."
"Me?" She scoffed with a twist of pure disgust, "How could I ever be too good for you?! Y/N, you are —."
"You're so beautiful Natasha," you sighed, cutting her off, "I don't even mean your looks, I am appreciative for them, sure, but it's your heart that I adore."
You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face, the veins of her cock pulsed through the thin material of her boxers, felt pulsing against your thigh along to the beat of her racing heart and you knew you'd said the right thing. Natasha's eyes were welling with tears as she leaned in to kiss you, it was tender and not at all foreign, but it was a feeling you'd nonetheless missed.
She always regarded your body with love, even in the more rougher moments, when she'd abuse your body like you'd beg her to, she would whisper her hearts reassuring thoughts. Deep down she always knew you asked for what you thought you deserved, so she gave you it, but not without what she knew you needed too.
"You're so good Y/N," she practically pleaded, her eyes shed hopeful tears that dripped down your temples, "I'm blessed to be in this position with you right now, the mother of my kids," she proudly said, her subtle claim to your son made you sniffle. "You deserve to be loved just like you love everyone else; without limit."
"Natasha," you whimpered, and she pecked your lips. "You're my wildest dream come true; a sight for sore eyes, an absolutely amazing mother, with the physique of a goddess. You are a blessing worthy of worshipping, I can swear to you that there's no one more perfect for me than you detka, you are the love of my life."
"Fuck," you scoffed over a sob, "So damn cheesy..."
Natasha hummed softly, "Can you feel it?" and offered you an amused smile. You blinked up in a daze as she brushed your knuckles over her lips, and you felt her dick twitch against your skin as she husked, "My love."
Your body took her words as a sign to start working towards pleasing her, you were desperate to feel it wholly. Natasha threw an arm around your waist as her back arched, securing you to her as she thrusted up involuntarily and reached a prime point of pleasure that made you both scream, yours shrill and hers a rasp. The way her throbbing tip was rubbed raw as her briefs smeared your arousal around your clit had you both already breathless, it took everything in her not to enter you then. If not for her desperation to taste what she'd been missing she would've given in instantly.
"Natty please," you tried, but ultimately failed, her raspy voice denied your pleasure, "Not yet, I need to return the favor first, I miss having your taste on my tongue and smelling you on my lips hours later."
It infuriated your cunt, who's hollowed walls clenched with need, but in the same breath her tone turned you on beyond belief, to not only feel, but to hear just how affected she was by her lusty desires centered around eating you out alone had your legs naturally spreading.
"There's my good girl," she praised against the plushness of your thigh, her tongue laid flat as she slowly licked up the essence coating your skin on a scandalous route to the grand prize, your oozing core.
Or better known to her as paradise.
After teasing you enough, with abrasive nibbles and her tongues follow up soothing caresses she felt it was about time to give you exactly what you both needed. Her lips twitched as she purposefully breathed your arousal in, and you choked in contrast when she lunged forward and began to eat your puffy pussy out.
There was no more gentle, loving Natasha; her eyes blackened, the carnality shown she was nothing short of feral, the filthy moans vibrating you into an orgasm as her tongue lapped at your core proof enough. But, for the sake of imagination, picture as if she was actually outside right now. Forced to participate in the watermelon eating contest, her hands tied behind her back and her face hovered over the three thick pieces on her plate; she'd beat both Sam and Bucky in record time, twelve seconds—four per slice, and still have enough time to make you scream around the corner, pinned to a wall while the boys struggled to focus.
The Falcon's wings would dip when informed it took him thirty seconds, but not as disappointed as The Winter Soldier who took thirty five. Fortunately for the boys, Natasha was buried in a more fitting place, winning at life as the soldiers tied, but lost to Thor who did it in ten, followed by a burp and plea for more.
You also endlessly pleaded for more, then rather suddenly for less, but inevitably you went unheard as your thighs deprived Natasha of both air and the ability to hear. Yet she kept going, making you scream out her name seconds later, and cream on her tongue.
Natasha felt your thighs relax, and with a firm grip she separated them, digging her nails into the skin as she took in an exaggerated gulp of air. You mewled and threw your head back to avoid her scarily arousing gaze. The both of you knew she was trained to hold her breath for extended periods of time, but it was hot nonetheless for you to witness, and her to pretend.
Truthfully, you internally, always made her breathless, so she was simply emoting. After a moment of you both coming back to your senses Natasha groaned, her red tip brushed against the sticky fabric of her boxers and she was disappointed she came outside of you.
"You always do this Y/N," she groaned, "I can't even help but to fuck the air to the sounds of your cries."
"Sorry," you whimpered, Natasha watched with a smirk as your entire body shivered. Then her face dropped as she realized something, "It just wasted our greatest chance at making a baby Y/N! The first round is the most potent, so now I'll have to fill you twice."
"Delilah is only six months," you panted, your words of concern not matching the clear state of your arousal. "Yeah detka; that means we are, quite frankly, behind."
"Behind?" Natasha nodded as she avoided your gaze to focus down on the mess of her boxers as she took them off and flipped them inside out. "Detka, we don't waste, so finish your treat before you get answers." There was no hesitation as you sucked the cotton fabric clean of her, moaning and soaking through the pair.
"You want this, don't you?" Natasha asked, her confidence dimmed as the fear of rejection emerged. You spit out her boxers and shrieked, "of course I do!"
Natasha hummed, "Then yes my love," as she gently stroked your cheek before pecking it. "We're gravely behind, so let's just call this an efficient way to catch up. I'll overload you on my love, and swimmers."
"Okay," your voice absolutely breathless as you allowed her to pull you up off the bed, having accepted the hand she'd extended out just so she could pull you close and kiss you until your were both breathless.
When you were distracted enough she spun you around and pressed you into the tacky wall with her muscular frame, her hot breaths fanned across your skin and your clit pulsed. She drove you wild, evidence of that being the way that your slick dribbled down the sides of her length that curved beneath your cunt.
"Are you ready to be bred?" Her fingers fondly traced over the marks on your hips. "To be full of my pulsing cock as it busts? I promise I'll leave you beyond full."
"Mommy please," you whined and pushed back with all your might to curve her dick up and into you. "Oh, you know what that does to me detka; you're in for it now."
Natasha pressed her body up, and rocked her hips until she'd smeared enough of your slick onto her length. It was a precautionary measure to ensure you minimal pain as she never failed to stretch you to your limits.
"Fuck mommy, you're so big," you mewled as her tip barely pressed into you, the redhead chuckled and slammed her hips forward, swiftly bottoming out and causing your body to lurch painfully into the wall. "Mmm, mommy loves the way you feel wrapped so tightly around me detka, suffocating my dick like the filthy whore that you are." She sloppily pecked your cheek. "This is right where you belong."
"Wanna stay like this forever," you sighed contentedly as your heated cheek brushed against the chilled wall with each shallow thrust she rewarded you with.
"That can be arranged," she rasped into your ear as her hips began to move a bit more. "Nobody else will ever get to see you like this again," she added, her growl and grip possessive as she picked up a pace you never could keep up with. Enhanced as you were with powers, the strength and stamina were all more Natasha's forte; fucking you limp a cherished specialty of hers.
"Nobody has seen me since you," you cleared the air in a dizzy slur, and felt as she prematurely shot into you, but Natasha recovered her composure fast and continued to fuck you while holding back her orgasm.
"Because this pussy is mine," she grunted, her hips now swirled with each thrust as she sought out your sole pleasure. Hearing that you were celibate in her absence a major ego boost as she rammed her fat cock into your spongey sensitivity with each precise jolt of her body into yours and pulled out those glorious supporting moans of a job well done. "Say it!"
"All yours mommy," you cried out sharply as her finger rapidly swirled against your swollen bud. "Damn straight," she groaned as she twitched and spasmed against your quivering walls. "Fucking hell, I'm going to fill you to the brim," she groaned against the base of your neck as she hastily pounded your body up against the wall.
Her hands gripped the fluff of your hips and fully drove her pelvis into your backside so that she could push you over the edge. "I'm so close mommy, please." Natasha obliged your pleas with a swift plan, her tongue teasingly licked the shell of your right ear, "Go on then sweetheart," her free hand moved to grope your breasts that leaked nonstop with warm milk while the other hand continued to stimulate your needy clit. "Let go and drench my cock; make a mess of me."
"Oh, oh, oh shit," you shrieked as you felt the coil within you snap into jagged pieces of pleasure. Nicking every inch of your body—setting your nerves ablaze. Pins and needles lasted for a perceivable eternity as you swore and soon enough you moaned a chorus as she fucked you through the toe curling orgasm.
Natasha shifted your bodies with ease, her cock still driving into your needy hole as she carried you over to lay your front down on the bed, she kept shallowly thrusting, but her strained cock managed to hold out. Even though she wanted to stay true to her words, she continued to hold back her own release for you.
"Your moans are my favorite," she whispered amusedly against the skin of your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there, and thrusting in deep, pulling sultry cries from the depths of your needy soul. Only to then suddenly pull out so that she could admire your bare backside while calming her need to breed you.
Her hands groped the skin of your sore ass, you whined as her cold fingers trailed over the already bruising skin, tempering the sting from her hips prior assaults. "Daddy please," you whimpered, and she dug her nails into the skin. "Stop being so impatient detka, we're making up for lost time here—be a good girl, and don't rush the process."
"Sorry mommy," you whimpered, and though she couldn't see you she smiled at the remembrance of your usual pout. "There you go," she praised, "Always so good for me baby, I promise that I will never tire of having you like this," she paused, lining her tip back up with your dripping entrance, "Spread wide open as your pretty, puffy cunt devours my shaft."
That was the only warning you had before she slid her thickness back inside of you and began to give you the type of strokes that made your spine shiver; slow, and deep enough that you could feel your guts shifting.
You whimpered softly, "Fuck, I'm already so close again..." Natasha chuckled, "I know, I can feel you trembling detka, fuck, your walls are squeezing me so tight." The redhead stilled for just a second, much to your bodies dismay too, you pressed your ass back and your cunt somehow sucked her in even deeper. It took everything in her not to bust, but she wanted to be truly levelheaded about this before she lost control.
Two kids under two was no easy feat, to be ready for a third required a sure mentality. It was your body after all, talk all she wanted of her possession of your body, that was only in part true. You were in charge of what she did next, whether that be to cum inside you, or to release her potent load onto your back. Either way she'd be satisfied, and all she really wanted was you to be happy with the overall outcome too.
"Want to carry my baby again detka?" Her lips gently pressed into the skin of your shoulder, the moment was far less sexually charged, she gently marked your surrounding skin up while patiently waiting for your eventual, labored response. "Please..."
"Are you sure?" Natasha doubled down, her cock twitched in anticipation for your final reply. "Yes," you were breathless, "Please, just breed me already! Wanna be full of you." Natasha hummed, then picked her pace up, she still reached your greatest depths, but this time she went much faster—leaving you to moan nonstop.
"Gonna fill you until I'm sure I've succeeded," she rasped confidently after a moment of nothing other than listening to skin slapping, and juices sloshing. "Then I'll fuck you from the back every month and feel the way your body changes for our fetus," she placed a sloppy wet kiss behind the shell of your ear and your body shuddered as your walls clamped down on her thick shaft. "Fuck, I heard that pregnancy makes you even hornier detka. Maybe I'll hit it every night. I'll destroy this pussy before the birth ever could."
"Fucking hell Natasha," you shrieked, but it faded into a low pitched moan as the tip of her spurting cock hit that glorious spot deep within that blurred your vision. It happened just as she pressed her wandering hand against the bulge pushing your stretched skin back out.
Your vision blacked out, your cheek pressed into the sheets harshly as the redhead continued to thrust against your pussy's tight resistance to prolong your orgasms and to also allow your walls to effectively milk her cock, ensuring maximum breeding efficiency.
When even she couldn't take anymore she fell into your backside a panting mess. "You did so good," she reassured you, her hands tight grip on your hips loosened so she could stroke your sides instead as you both took a moment to regulated your systems.
After a few moments Natasha became restless, her stamina bouncing back fast as she rose up and slid out of you, leaving behind a sticky mess of your arousals as she did; her clean sheets never stood a chance. It was a moment of total joy for her to watch as your pussy contracted, sensitive walls pushing the excess of her cum from you a sight worthy of marveling. The way it bubbled and popped was absolutely mesmerizing...
There was hardly a lull in her cocks erectness, she stood there still slightly out of breath, with her sticky member inches away from her rock-hard abs in a sweaty glow. Tension held her body captive as she picked her next move. "I want you to ride me detka, bounce on mommy's cock for a bit, suck me dry."
"Mommy, I..." you sighed, "I'm tired."
"I know honey," she coo'd as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, her nimble fingers wrapped around your thigh and teasingly squeezed. "I'll do all the work." With the promise of the needed assistance you slowly shuffled over to her, and threw your leg over her spread set, opening your slick lips back up and allowing her to slip herself back in. You moaned into her shoulder as you felt your mixed slicks gush as your core met the base of her cock at a new, delightful angle.
"Mommy," you called shyly, as if you weren't already in the midst of a raw fucking, your glossy eyes fell to her lips, and she shook her head in amusement as she chuckled, "Come on detka, take what you need."
The way you kissed her every single time was how she knew your feelings for her went beyond that of lust. It was always soft, and sensual with a sense of urgency. Sometimes she felt like you were out to devour her entirely, and if you were, she wouldn't even mind. To be taken out by your lips on hers sounds heavenly.
"Oh god," you whimpered, overrun by a pleasure only she could offer you, her hands on your hips guided you, but she let you control the kiss. "I need you all the time Natty," you panted harshly against her lips as you only briefly disconnected them. "I can't get off without you. Not even listening to your old voicemails work."
"You'll never need to again detka," she growled, hands possessive as they pulled your body back down by your hips to meet her desperate thrusts, "I'll fill you up every day if that's what you need—mhm, yeah; this pussy of mine will never have time to miss me."
"Please..." you begged as your lips left hers so your head could fly back in pleasure, and your hands clawed at her neck, leaving behind angry red lines. Natasha's breath stalled, the grip she had on your hips tightened, then she dropped you mid lift because of how dizzy she felt with the way that your walls squeezed her shaft every damn time it left your warmth. Your face fell to her neck, lips latching onto her pulse point, and with you working to claim her too she busted. The warmth of her seed splattered against your walls, again, the stream nudged your g-spot with a firm flow, joined by the harsh slam of her tip; it was all too much, and in some strange way it never felt like it was enough.
Arousal gushed all over the redheads skin, and slowly dripped down the oak bed frame, polishing it anew.
The way your combined releases ran down from her abdomen and saturated the skin of her balls made her body tense as she produced even more of her seed. Natasha hadn't stopped thrusting, in fact she flipped your body onto the bed, and sent you into another wave of pleasure, and your mind to another dimension.
It had been exactly fourteen months, and ten days since she last felt as her cock rearranged your insides so she wasn't ready to stop. Natasha panted against your neck as she kept fucking your unconscious body.
Eventually she fell semi-flaccid, and her breath was so erratic she had to stop her body from continuing to ram into you. Even if the urge persisted, you were more than fucked out, so she was mostly satisfied. There's no way her diet super soldier swimmers weren't going to fulfill their duty. If the redhead is lucky she'll get a two for one reward. She can't wait to be waiting on you hand and foot. There'd never be a night you went to bed hungry, or uncomfortable.
You'll carry her kids, and she'll carry the rest of the burdens that come with life. The redhead admired your still face, your eyes tracked behind your lids, and your even, cool breaths fanned across her warm face. This was what she believed bliss to be at its core.
Natasha gently slid right on out of you, but it didn't last long before she was sheathed within your velvety warmth again. After you awoke she'd kissed you tenderly, and as her tongue explored your mouth you reached down to pump your hand up and down her cock, it was loud and wet, your hand growing sticky with your mixed arousals and her body shuddered.
"Inside," you breathed in a fit against her lips, she chuckled in disbelief at your needy behavior, and happily guided her cock to your entrance and watched as your walls sucked her in and your wetness gushed all over. "Oh fucking hell detka," Natasha groaned as her fingers flexed against your hips, "Eto ray."
(this is heaven)
"Mhm," you softly hummed your agreement, your hazy eyes fluttered open a moment later as you cheekily smirked up at her. "That dick game is god tier Natty."
Natasha rolled her eyes, then chuckled against your skin as she happily burrowed her face into your neck. All of the lust had faded, for now, and all that was left was to soak in the fact that this was finally happening.
Nothing could ruin the moment, well, almost nothing.
Your phone dinged about half an hour later, and if not for being a mom you'd have ignored it. You lazily lifted it from her nightstand. A soft giggle left you as Natasha grumbled in annoyance at the shift of her cock that was still inside of you. The woman turned her head on your chest and peered at your phone suspiciously only to see that it was lit up with an innocent text from Wanda.
Shall I take the kids back to mine ? 👀♥️
"Tell her to wait," Natasha pleaded, then in a rush she jumped up, leaving you hollow and raced into the shower. You did as told, then followed behind, and the two of you tenderly, yet speedily cleaned the other off.
Wanda sat in the living area with Carter asleep on her bump, and with Delilah laying on the play mat below her, happily kicking her feet. You quietly moved to sit beside your best friend, and watched with a smile as the love of your life cautiously approached your child.
"Hello there moya malen'kaya lyubov'," she was so soft spoken as she spoke to Delilah that you almost didn't recognize her voice. Tears brimmed your lids as you watched the way that your daughter lit up at hearing the spoken Russian, of course Natasha noticed too.
(My littlest love)
"Detka," she whimpered, and looked up into your eyes "Do you speak to her in Russian?" You nodded and sent her a playful wink to cover your emotional gaze. Natasha however turned stone cold serious as she said: "YA sobirayus' sdelat' tebya svoyey zhenoy."
(I'm going to make you my wife)
Wanda giggled from beside you when you frowned and looked to your love with a pout. Natasha smirked this time and winked back, "We'll work on your Russian, then we'll return to that phrase when you understand."
"Oh," you chuckled softly, "I understood, I just expected a first date, then the fat diamond ring."
You turned away from your blushing lover, and scooped your son off of Wanda. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not leaving you with my two gremlins when you already have two growing inside of you." Wanda went to protest but you leaned into her ear to whisper: "The walls at my place are soundproof..."
You walked away with a proud smirk as the women sat there with collective reddened cheeks. Wanda left a moment later with a kiss left on your daughter's cheek, and a rush in her wobble. Natasha shook her head and chuckled softly at your daughter, "Tvoyu mat' ne zrya prozvali 'Ubiytsey'" Delilah tilted her head, and Natasha was perturbed by Wanda's obvious influence.
(Your mother wasn't nicknamed "Killer" for nothing)
"Detka, where are we going?" She asked as she trailed behind you with a curious infant sat atop of her hip. "Home," you replied flatly then turned around with a contradicting grin. "You ready to shack up darling?"
"I don't know," Natasha teased, "that's a lot of responsibility to place upon a free flyer like me."
"Then I guess," you were cut off by a kiss that left you speechless, yet slightly humming as you grinned against her plush lips. "You've been tamed by a," she cut you off again with a peck and answer: "Beautiful, perfect in all of the ways that count, sexy ass milf."
"You're such a hopeless romantic," you teased, and she matched your grin with a suave lift of the mood. "I'm never hopeless with you Y/N, just soft, and absolutely, undeniably in love with you."
"Jeez Nat, keeping charming my pants off and we'll literally end up with a baseball team." The redhead chuckled, "A team of tiny assassins and witches," then sidled up to you, and slid her free hand into yours in perfect rhythm. "You're insane." Natasha swung your connected hands and grinned up like a devil. "I sure am crazy for you, so yeah, I'll claim it." She winked slowly and snorted when you glared, it was entirely heatless and she knew it.
Then to make the moment all the more special she leaned forward and smiled at your son. "Hi there sweet boy, I'm," she went to introduce herself but the nearly two year old interrupted her excitedly, "Mama!" Natasha was stunned and you elated to see it was a good thing, her eyes lit up with so much love, and she dropped your hand so that she could snatch Carter right from you. "Hey! You already have a baby!"
"You hush," she hissed playfully, then you saw her eyes glisten as he nuzzled right into her neck like she was safe and she emotionally whispered to him in Russian: "Moy ideal'nyy syn, ya budu lyubit' tebya bez ogranicheniy."
(My perfect son, I will love you without limits)
"Moya dragotsennaya Dalila, ya nauchu tebya vsem svoim znamenitym dvizheniyam," she placed a gentle kiss to her face. Then her gaze turned to you as you scoffed, "Not happening if she takes after me for once."
(my precious delilah, I will teach you all my famous moves)
"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you," she turned around and came to a sudden stop. Forcing you to nearly bump into her, but she took a smooth step back with a stupidly hot smirk on her face. "I could never." Natasha leaned in and kissed your lips with a precise tenderness. "I love you, and I plan to for the rest of my life," you blurted, stealing her thunder but she loved the sudden declaration of yours more than her own repeated ones. "I'm so glad you're the one who almost got away, because I'd forever be lost without you."
"My rodstvennyye dushi," she whispered as she pecked your tear tracked cheeks, "Ty byl moyey sud'boy," this time she was pressed against your lips. Then she pulled back with a smile as she continued to speak as her lips met her sleeping babies faces. "Oni nashe naslediye." Then she perfectly crouched without jostling the kids to kiss the skin of your tummy. "For good luck."
(We are soulmates / You were my destiny / Them our legacy)
——
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adascore · 6 days
Note
Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!
TO JUMP THE GUN(NERS)
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pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader
warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.
author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!
masterlist
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February 4, 2024 - Essex, England
It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.
The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.
She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.
Their injuries had changed everything.
Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.
She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.
However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.
It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.
In other words, she was back to step 1.
That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.
In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.
Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.
The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.
Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.
As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.
The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.
''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''
''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.
''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''
Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.
''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.
As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.
''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.
Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.
They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.
The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.
Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.
''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.
Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''
The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.
As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.
"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.
Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.
"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.
"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.
As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.
The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.
''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.
Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.
She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.
''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.
They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.
''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.
''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.
"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.
They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.
''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.
Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''
The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''
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Katie was not right.
As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.
Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.
The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.
Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.
A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.
Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?
She had absolutely no clue.
However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.
Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.
Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?
Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.
Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.
The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.
The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.
Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.
"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”
Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''
But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.
Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.
The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.
''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.
''Hey, you're home?''
''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''
There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''
''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.
''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''
There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''
Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.
''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.
''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.
''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''
Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”
''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''
''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.
Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.
Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.
''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.
''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''
Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.
The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.
Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''
Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.
The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.
A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.
''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.
Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.
She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.
She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.
Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.
For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.
Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.
As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.
''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.
Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.
''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.
Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.
But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''
Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.
''Beth, I wasn't-''
''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.
Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.
''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.
''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.
Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''
The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.
The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''
Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.
''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.
''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.
The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.
''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.
''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.
The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.
''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.
Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.
''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.
The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''
''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.
''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.
The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.
Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.
Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''
''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.
''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.
Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.
''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.
''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.
''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.
The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''
She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.
The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.
''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.
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