#he gets up every now and them to help her stir something on the pot and theyre so engaged in conversation it feels so natural and familiar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beenbaanbuun · 2 months

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Bunnnnyyyy I'm having yuyu withdrawals 😭😭

I recently stumbled across the spiderman yuyu edit on Instagram again and it has me running LAPS

Like can you imagine being roommates with photography major spider!yunho, noticing his odd disappearances and late nights but never saying anything, which he appreciates because lord knows he doesn't have the capacity for it rn sinde I'd headcannon this is right after his uncle's desth when he's still in his angry grief era.

But MC would be sweet even though he's cold and kinda mean, she wouldn't be nosy or pry, always asks him to eat with her out of courtesy (which isn't a big deal for her but it kinda chips away at his heart because she's so sweet about it).

Still he maintains certain boundaries till one day he comes home all beat up and bruised, and MC patches him back up, there’s so much tension in the room when she has to peel off his shirt to check the bruises on his sides, when he softly asks why she cares about him so much, when she quietly admits that it's because she likes him-

AKSHSKSHDKSDBJSBZSJ

I'm just..... obsessed with Yunho

-lyra

so this sent me a little insane and i wrote so much more than i was expecting to 😭😭 spidey!yunho has sent me down a rabbit hole and this is what we ended up with…

——————————————————————————“can we eat together tonight?” you ask as you stir the pasta around the pot. you made two portions, as usual, in the sheer hope that he wouldn’t be going out again. “i found this recipe i thought you’d like. i figured it might help cheer you up!” you shrug as if it’s no big deal.

but it is to yunho. as he picks his backpack up from the floor, he feels his heart break just a little. it would be so much easier for him to leave the apartment every night if it wasn’t for the fact that you were such a sweetheart. the fact that you always cook for him whenever you make something for yourself is something that has been slowly chipping away at his hard exterior for months now. the way that you put it in the fridge along with a cute little note whenever he isn’t there to eat with you has almost properlybroken that exterior in two.

yunho can’t deny that half of those precious little notes are stashed in the drawer of his nightstand; he rereads them whenever his emotions get the better of him. seeing the sweet messages scrawled onto the yellow post-it-notes never fails to make him smile. your pretty little words in your pretty little handwriting… he’d be insane not to keep them.

you turn around, taking your attention away from the pot for just a moment, and spot him with his jacket on and his rucksack slung lazily over one shoulder. as your face falls, he can’t help the way his heart breaks just a little more. you probably think you’ve hidden your disappointment well, and to anyone else you might have done. it’s just a shame that yunho is the way that he is, because he sees the way your shoulders deflate and the shadow of a frown disrupts your pretty face. he can practically feel the sadness radiating from you in waves, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up slightly as your not-so-obvious upset puts him on edge.

but then you seem to remember yourself, and within seconds you’ve picked yourself back up and are offering a small smile to him. he still feels that prickling at the back of his neck, though.

although it becomes apparent pretty quickly that that sensation may be caused by his own disappointment, rather than yours. as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, he can’t deny the way that the feeling in his neck grows as he watches you pull a tupperware from the cupboard. you swap it with his dish - it was really yours, but you’d named it his because it’s red and red reminds you of him, for some reason - and he has to stifle his own frown. for some reason watching you replace the ceramic bowl with the plastic tub hits him right in the chest…

“i’ll put yours in the fridge, then,” you say as you turn back to the pasta and give it a stir, “you can grab it whenever you’re hungry; maybe when you get back tonight?”

sweetheart, his brain repeats over and over like a mantra. it rattles round his skull whilst he tries to find the words to thank you. to let you know just how much he appreciates it, even if he doesn’t always show it. and the words are right there. right on the top of his tongue…

but for some reason he can’t get them out.

“i’ll see you later,” is all he mumbles before he slips out of the doorway and dashes down the hallway to the open window that awaits him at the end.

you try not to let the way the door slams shut hurt you, but even with the strongest will in the world you wouldn’t be able to take away the ache in your chest. he’s just going through a rough patch, you try to convince yourself as you spoon his serving into the tupperware and clip the lid shut. he just needs some time alone after everything that’s happened to him, you think as you slip it into the fridge. it’ll be better soon, you pray as you pull out a pen and think about what to write on his note.

hope this pasta cheers you up, yun! if you like it, let me know and i’ll make it more often for you!!

the words make you cringe, but you slip it next to the tupperware anyway, closing the fridge with a huff. you doubt he even reads the notes anyway, so why does it matter if what you write on them is a little sickly-sweet.

with a sigh you grab your bowl and turn to the couch, ready to settle in and do nothing for the night. as usual, yunho’s portfolio stuff is everywhere, as well as the photos of that one spider-guy that he’s been collecting for his new job at the daily bugle. you hate the newspaper yourself, thinking that the conspiracy-led journalism is nothing but fear mongering nonsense, but you can’t fault yunho for working there; he’s only in it for the money, afterall. it’s just the life of a collage student to have to sell out your morals for a paycheck.

you pick it all up, organising it into somewhat-coherent piles on the coffee table before flopping down onto the ratty sofa and flicking the TV on. the volume is barely at a whisper, and you can’t help but curse yunho for having such good hearing; no doubt he feels the same when he turns the TV on to a deafening wall of sound after you’ve used it. the thought gives you a quick chuckle as you flick through the channels to find something to watch. you settle on a dumb reality show, quickly settling in for the evening so you can eat your pasta in peace.

———

hours pass before yunho returns, swinging the door open and startling you out of your TV-centred tunnel vision. you turn to him in surprise, ready to gently scold him for putting what would no doubt be another dent in the wall. that will have to come out of both of your deposits, you prepare yourself to tell him, but when you actually see him you pause.

he’s hunched up against a wall, chest rising and falling as he struggles to breathe. there’s a wheeze when he inhales, which only gets stronger when he breathes out, and the look of pain on his face that comes each and every time he respires sends you straight into panic mode. you don’t bother to turn the TV off as you stand up and rush towards him.

“fucking hell, yun,” you cry as you reach him. he winces at your shrill tone, drawing back into himself as you invade his personal space to check for injuries. the obvious one is his side, which he’s clutching in his grip like his life depends on it; you assume it’s a cracked rib, which would explain why breathing looks like it’s taking all of his effort. despite its necessity, its a notoriously painful thing to do with a broken rib.

a broken nose can make it difficult too, and as you begin to scan his face, you realise that he definitely has one of those. the way it twists to the side slightly, blood oozing from his right nostril like a faucet makes you flinch back a little, as if you’re the one that’s injured. you compose yourself quickly as you continue your search. black eye, split brow, split lip - the list goes on, but thankfully none of it seems too irreparable. with your basic knowledge of first aid, and yunho’s weirdly extensive first aid kit, you’re bound to have him fixed up in no time.

“bathroom,” you stutter out, taking a step back to give him some space. he almost misses your warmth as he watches you take a few steps towards the room that separates his bedroom from yours. he chases it, pushing himself away from the wall and stumbling after you. he doesn’t know why he wants you so close all of a sudden, but he feels like he needs it to survive. those brief few seconds he had you close somehow made him breathe a little easier. he follows you into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

silently, you gesture to the toilet and he takes a seat on the closed lid. his broad torso leans back against the tiles, and he relishes in the way that the cold seeps through his shirt and washes over his too-hot body. his head tips back against it too, and he watches you through hooded eyes as you scramble through the cabinet to find his first-aid kit.

sweetheart, his mind whispers again as you sit there on your knees in front of the cabinet, pushing rolls of toilet paper and bottles of cleaning product to the side. only you could be so adorably caring towards him after all these months of him actively pushing you away. only you would be so worried for him after he’d been trying his hardest to avoid you for months on end.

only you.

that feeling at the back of his neck comes back, only this time it’s stronger. every single hair on his body stands on end as he watches you pull the black bag from the back of the cabinet, whispering a cute little ‘a-ha’ to yourself. he smiles at that, not even bothering to hide it from you when you turn to him with the kit in hand. he doesn’t need to anymore; you’ve already seen everything else he used to hide.

which reminds him of his tattered spider-suit in his grasp. yunho holds out the red spandex for you to take from him, half expecting you to examine it and unveil all his secrets, but you don’t. you don’t even look at it as you toss the filthy fabric into the bathtub and turn the cold tap on. it’s the best for getting blood out, afterall. with little more thought about the piece of fabric, you turn back to yunho and unzip the black bag.

“unbutton your shirt,” you mutter as you pull out some wipes, a tube of antiseptic cream, and a large square bandage. you have no idea if his side is actually bleeding or not, but it’s best to be prepared, right? you look back at him with the materials in hand, only to see him staring back at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“what?” you grumble, taking notice of the fact that he hasn’t moved an inch. his hand was still clutched over his side and his shirt was still messily buttoned up. you sigh and move towards him, thinking nothing of it when you drop to your knees between his thighs and begin to unbutton the white fabric. his breath hitches as your fingers brush against his chest, but you pay him no mind, “yunho, move your arm - i need to get your shirt off.”

he doesn’t, remaining still as ever as you undo the last button that you can. you sit back on your haunches and watch him from where you sit between his spread legs.

“yun, come on,” you whine, and he closes his eyes at the sound. so beautiful; if only he wasn’t in pain so he could enjoy it more, “i need to undo the rest of your buttons and i can’t when you’re not letting me!”

you lay a hand on his wrist in a pleading gesture, asking wordlessly to let you take care of him. he listens this time and loosens his grip on his ribs. you pull his hand away, sucking in a breath as you catch sight of the red stain that his hand was previously covering. it’s not huge, but it still needs seeing to, so you go back to unbuttoning his shirt.

yunho tries not to think too hard as your hand brushes over his crotch when you undo the last two, just like when you eventually finish and push the sides of his shirt open to reveal his bare chest. it’s covered with bruises, and he bites his lip to suppress a groan as your delicate fingers dance softly across his damaged skin. he finds himself wishing the circumstances were different, and that you sitting between his legs, touching his chest could be so much more than you just worrying about him. as he watches you pick up the antiseptic wipes again, he’s reminded that that’s all it is; you being worried.

but that too confuses him. after all this time of him being a downright dick to you, you’re still so gentle with him. he’s abrupt and rude, and yet you still smile and say hello whenever you see him. he’s never around to eat with you, and yet you never fail to make him a meal every time you cook. he’s kept so much from you, and yet here you are, taking care of him like none of that ever mattered. like you can somehow see the man he is underneath all that.

he whimpers, and he’s not quite sure whether it’s because of the pain of the antiseptic wipe, or the pain he feels in his heart. either way, he needs something to take his mind off it all.

“why?” he asks as you clean his wound with a kind hand. so soft, your touch, as if you’re scared of hurting him. as if anything you could ever do would hurt him.

“why what?” you respond as you toss away the bloodied wipe and move to grab the cream. you put a dollop on your finger and begin to gently press it against the wound. he groans, and you mutter out a small apology. you mean it too; you don’t want to cause him any more pain.

“why are you doing this?” he says through gritted teeth, breathing heavy and laboured as he tried to power through the sting that he feels in his side, “why are you so nice to me when i’m - oh fuck, it hurts - when i’m anything but nice to you?”

you pause for a second, mulling over his question, repeating it in your mind until you can settle on an answer. well, an answer that’s palatable for him, anyway.

“you’re not not nice,” you say, capping the cream and putting it down on top of yunho’s thigh; you’d need it layered anyway. then you grab the bandage and rip off the adhesive cover, “and even if you were, i don’t think that wouldn’t change how i feel about you as a person.”

he watches with confusion in his eyes as you line up the bandage and smooth it over his skin. you run your fingers along the edges, pressing it down the make sure it’s secure. he’s sure that they linger on his skin for a moment longer than they have to, but he says nothing as you pull your hand back and rest it on your lap.

“how do you feel about me?” he whispers quietly into the cold air of the bathroom. it’s quite possibly the worst place he can imagine to have this conversation, and yet it seems the fit the atmosphere perfectly. somehow it feels so natural, talking about feelings whilst you patch up his injuries in the bathroom.

“i’ve fallen for you,” you bite the bullet, just coming straight out with it, “hook, line, and sinker, yun.”

it feels good to get it off your chest at long last. even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, or it makes things weird between the two of you. even if he begins to avoid you more, or just straight up moves out, it’s feels nice to have it out in the open. you’ve cast your net, it’s up to him whether or not he lets you catch him…

“oh,” is all he says at first, and you try not to think too much into that single syllable. you pick up the tube of antiseptic cream again and turn your attention to his eyebrow, “you like me?”

you nod as you put another globule on your finger and lean into him to get closer to the cut. you ignore the way he stares at you as you work, trying you hardest to avoid making eye contact. you already feel like your heart is about to beat itself free from your chest; you don’t need to worry it any more.

but then you feel a finger brush softly against your face, a scabbed up knuckle teasing your soft skin as it’s traces your cheekbone. a breath gets caught in your throat, and your finger stills against yunho’s brow bone. against your better judgement, you let yourself focus on his expression, making eye contact with the chocolate pools that never failed to draw you in. they’re beautiful, as always, but they reveal so much more than they usually do. the corners crinkle up into crows feet as his pupils twinkle with an emotion you’ve never really seen on his face before. it suits him… a lot.

“that’s a relief,” he breathes out, the semblance of a chuckle in his voice, “i’ve been calling you sweetheart in my brain since the moment we moved in together; it’ll be nice to be able to call you that to your face… sweetheart.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic #yunho oneshot

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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“Okay, so now we add the water, right?”

“No! No water!” Steve practically shouted, grabbing the pot and holding it high above his head so Joyce couldn’t reach it, “Joyce, we’ve talked about this,”

She rolled her eyes, putting the measuring cup on the counter and sighing. Robin and the kids giggled from their spot in the living room, the parade turned down low so they could hear every bit of the clownery going on in the kitchen. Steve turned the evil eye on them and put one hand on his hip.

“And, peanut gallery, if you want to have food, you’ll want to keep your snark at bay. Unless you want to be the ones in here helping me make an entire Thanksgiving meal for fourteen.”

“Always the mom,” Max sighed, patting her stomach, “I’ll have you know if we’re not eating by five o’clock sharp, Nugget here will be making Lucas drive us to McDonalds,”

Steve waved her off and turned back to the stove, placing down the pot and stirring his perfectly prepared potatoes. It felt kind of weird to keep thinking of them as kids now that they were all graduating from college. But, to Steve, they would always be kids. No matter how tall, how old, how many nuggets of their own they had, those seven little kids would always be the stupid pre-teens that had given him his life.

“Now, it’s important to remember to continue to whisk, or else they’ll get clumpy.” Steve instructed in a no nonsense tone. He had eaten enough of her radioactive cooking to know where she would start to lose sight of the final product.

“Are you torturing my wife?” Hopper asked as he entered into the fray, grabbing another round of beers for him and the boys. Steve could just catch the sound of Jonathan and Wayne yelling at the TV in the bedroom upstairs, calling the referee out on some bullshit play.

“This is the real question, Hop. Is your wife torturing my husband?” A voice came from behind him, soft and buttery. A voice Steve had desperately missed, even though this trip had only been a short few weeks.

Steve hummed, leaning back into Eddie’s arms and letting his eyes slip shut for a second. Eddie had only been in Chicago for three weeks to re-record something for his newest album, but to Steve it was always too long. Warm pale arms littered with scars came up around him, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. No government would ever recognize it, they couldn’t really tell the world, but the ring on that chain was everything to Steve, just like the man who had given it to him.

“She is,” Steve fake-whispered into Eddie’s ear, “She’s trying to poison us all with liquid potatoes,”

“Lucky for us, we have you,” Eddie whispered back, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek from behind, “God bless you, Mr. Potato Man.”

Steve snickered, turning around so he could fully face his partner. Eddie’s hair was shorter now than it was when they were young and stupid, and he was starting to get crows feet in the corner of his eyes.

He was more beautiful every time Steve saw him.

“Quick! Eddie distract him while I put water in the potatoes!” Joyce cried. Eddie immediately went along with it, yanking Steve away from the stove and ignoring his protests as she began to experiment. Steve conceded defeat the second the paprika was pulled out of the cupboard. Some things would just never change.

Eddie dragged him into the hallway, hiding them ever so slightly from the rest.

“Glad to be home,” He murmured, hugging Steve close and resting their foreheads together.

Home. The home Eddie had bought him all those years ago. The carpet in the living room was a soft cream now instead of gaudy orange, and there were boxes filled with mums in each window. The mold problem had been fully eradicated, but the screen door still swung open and shut in the wind.

Steve didn’t mind it anymore. It was just a part of the charm of their house.

Their house. Even now it made his heart fill to the bursting to think of it. Their house.

But now that Eddie was back, it was really home.

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etoiile · 6 months

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"BE BRAVE"

starring chigiri hyoma!

synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?

warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader

notes: i want him your honor

"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.

"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"

"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."

"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."

"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)

"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.

"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.

"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.

chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.

as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.

"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"

"yeah"

"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"

at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.

now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.

he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.

"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."

"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"

chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.

"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.

"dont forget the eggs!"

"just be brave," his sister had said.

pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!

he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.

"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.

"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.

his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.

"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"

he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.

you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.

there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.

"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.

suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.

gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.

"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:

"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."

you were left frozen.

"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.

as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Don't Speak 40

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

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

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

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: back to work. Now I suffer too.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

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

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The whistling wind breaks through the depths of your sleep. You come to slowly, layer by later slaking away, until your eyelids flick up. You stare at the ceiling above you, unmoving as reality washes over you.

Your body is sore and worn out. Your head is achy and your stomach feels like a knot. You blink and press your hands to the mattress. You’re in Andy’s room, under the blankets in the large bed, the empty bed. He isn’t there but the scent of his sweat clings to you and the sheets.

It takes several tries to sit up. You nearly keel over as you do. You get your legs over the edge and wince. Your insides hurt.

You glance over at the blaring blue numbers on the digital clock. It’s almost nine in the morning. A whole night. You don’t remember much more than Andy’s arrival and then… that.

You’re naked still. He must’ve put you to bed when you passed out. You grip the corner of the night table and push yourself up. You teeter around, searching for your balance, and stand on your own.

You turn slowly, a swatch of red catching your eyes. There’s a dress at the foot of the mattress. Velvet with long mesh sleeves. You near and touch the fabric.

You don’t want to let Andy down. You know last night must’ve been disappointing. You feel awful as you try to imagine the lecture awaiting you. You dress; no bra with the dress, only a pair of black lace panties and stockings.

Your legs are stiff, barely moving at your behest. You hobble into the hallway and listen to the house. The bathroom is open and empty. You go in and try to tidy up. Your reflection scares you.

You carry on and stop at the stairs. You cling to the railing as you descend. You can hear shuffling and smell something cooking. You pad onto even ground and down to the kitchen.

Andy’s there, stirring something unseen in a pot. Your heart flips. He must be upset. Why couldn’t he wait for you to wake up? You could’ve done all this.

“We have our appointment today,” he says without looking at you. “You should eat first.”

You wince. That’s not what you expect. It’s a reprimand but not as harsh as you dreaded. You go to the counter and put a hand on the tall stool. You try to lift yourself onto it only to slip, barely keeping yourself upright as your stockinged feet slide on the tile.

Andy taps the spoon on the rim of the pot and puts it down. He startles you as he marches around and as good as lifts you onto the stool. He steadies you, his hand lingering on your shoulder.

“I know you haven’t been eating,” he rescinds his touch and crosses his arms.

You let your head sink down and slump your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I forget–”

“You cook every night. You sit down with me. You don’t forget, you just don’t do it.”

You nod. He’s right.

“We’ll talk to Dr. Kemp about it but… you will eat something before we go,” he backs away and goes back to the stove, “oatmeal. Not too much.”

He turns off the burner and you peek over at him as you wring your hands. You are terribly hungry. You watch him spoon a few glops into a bowl before sprinkling over cinnamon and brown sugar. He adds milk and a little silver spoon before he sets it before you.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“If you don’t take care of yourself, you can’t take care of me,” he leans an elbow on the counter, “that’s your job. I go to the library and do mine and I expect to come home to you doing yours.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you take the spoon and stir the oatmeal, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t. I’m not being the bad guy right now. I’m worried.”

“Okay, sorry,” you pout as you lift a spoonful of oatmeal, “thank you, Andy… I’ll do better.”

You blow on the oatmeal before you taste it. It’s thick and pasty but the sugar and milk are sweet. You push your tongue through it and gulp it down. Just one spoonful has you ravenous. You take another bite and another. You almost forget where you are as your hunger takes over.

Then the pain comes. You stop yourself as your stomach makes a loud gurgle. You drop your spoon against the bowl and slap the countertop. You curl your shoulders as your insides lurch and you spew up everything bit of oatmeal you just ate.

You grip the granite as you wretch, eyes filling with tears. When you finish, you shakily stay as you are, bringing one hand to wipe your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I’ll clean it up…”

“Honey,” Andy comes around offering a dishcloth, “I know you’re trying. Now we know to slow down, huh?”

You nod and gulp loudly. You get down off the stool and use the hand towel to sop up the oats and bile. Andy looms, hands on his hips.

“I was scared last night. You weren’t responding. I almost took you to the hospital,” he tuts, “dove, why would you scare me like that?”

You stand, hands full of dishcloth and puke. You wiggle your nose as you bat away the last flecks of tears. You sniffle and make yourself look at him.

“I won’t do it again. I promise.” You frown as he watches you, stern and unbending, “please, Andy, honey, I… was so worried about you so I just… forgot about me.”

He shifts and exhales. He dips his chin down and nods. He drops his hands.

“I see that now,” he says, “let’s move past it, huh? Like Thanksgiving. We can get through it. All you have to do is be good, right?”

“Yes, Andy,” you sidle around him, the stench of your own vomit making you even sicker, his reminder adding to the churning, “I will be.”

🕊️

You feel smaller then ever. Sitting beside Andy in Dr. Kemp’s office. Like a child being scolded, you clasp your hands tight in your lap and rock.

“So… one step forward, a few back,” the doctor glances between the two of you. “I’m happy with the progress but the backslide, for both of you, is concerning,” he shakes his head, “we’ll go through some anger management in our singles sessions.”

“She definitely could use it,” Andy agrees.

“You too. You might be better at hiding it but that’s not the solution. It’s about expressing yourself healthily. Today has gone well but we have work to do yet,” Dr. Kemp checks his watch. He stretches his neck and hides a yawn behind a closed fist. He has one leg bent over the other, his clipboard balanced in his lap, “should I start with you?”

Your eyes meet his. You only realise then he means you. You shrug and give a nod, “sure.”

“Andy,” Steve gestures to the door.

Andy inhales and stands with a sigh. He leaves reluctantly. When the door shuts, you feel the air lighten, yet a new tension rises in his absence. It’s just you and Dr. Kemp now.

You drag your hand up your arm to your elbow, looking down bashfully as you try not to think of your secret. You nibble your lip as the doctor yawns again. You peek at his sweater but not his face.

“Are you tired?” You ask dumbly, cringing at the obtuse question. Obviously he is and for good reason. He works hard and he’s very good at his job.

“A little,” his voice turns gristly, “I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep.” He pushes his shoulders back, “enough about me. We’re here for you,” he wiggles his pen in your direction, “I want to hear more about… you.”

“Well, er… I… I guess I’m okay–”

“Are you eating? Drinking water? Sleeping?” He ticks off each question with a swoop of his pen.

“I’m… trying,” you utter guiltily.

“Trying, but unsuccessfully?”

You nod and fold your hands in front of your chest.

“I’m not criticizing you, I’m only asking. We’re here to take care of you, sweetheart, and I need to know if I’m going to help you with that, right?”

You nod again. He’s so wise. You kick your feet just a little as they dangle an inch from the floor.

“So…” he begins, standing abruptly. He puts his clipboard down and reaches his arms up, grunting as he stretches. Your eyes flit up and snatch a glimpse of the little strip of his lower stomach visible as his sweater rides up just a little, “you and Andy, things are a bit turbulent but I feel some optimism there. Once you two sort out your arguments…” He sniffs, “I never pictured that of you.”

“Me either… but… I don’t know how it happened. Well, I know I did it and I feel awful and…” you begin to ramble.

“You know it’s wrong. You’ve taken accountability. That’s a good start,” he assures you. “You are… still intimate?”

Your lips part as you flinch. You are horribly embarrassed. Worse, you feel rotten. The thought of him knowing about you and Andy makes you feel guilty, somehow. As if you’re betraying him but really, it’s the other way around. The way your mind wanders, you’ve deceived both men.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“And you still feel… uncertain?”

You clamp your lips tight and shrug.

“I know it’s hard to explore those things. We’re often taught to repress, to be ashamed, but we’re past that. You know, it’s good to talk it through. To put thoughts into words so that we can understand them clearly,” he coaxes as he strides around, hands in his pocket, “when was the last time you and Andy made love?”

You poke your tongue out. Is that what it is? Making love?

“Yesterday,” you reply, not adding that you barely remember it.

“And the last time you just enjoyed some time alone?” He prompts. You stare and he chuckles, “masturbated? Have you been using that toy I gave you?”

You swallow and shake your head.

“Oh, you haven’t… why not?”

You panic. Should you tell him the truth? You look at the door then him. You quickly refocus on the floor.

“He doesn’t like it,” he surmises, “ah, well, it’s not unusual, but he doesn’t make that decision. I’ll… sensitively bring it up with him.”

“You don’t have to, I… we… me and Andy, we do… stuff,” you can barely say what that stuff is.

“Mhmm, and you enjoy it?”

The air goes out of you. You’re a terrible liar. You feel him watching you and you know he sees the truth. Even without saying it. You wilt.

“I don’t know, Doctor,” you mutter, “I think…”

“You think? It should be pretty obvious.”

“Well, I… I try and… he’s patient, I guess, but I get all… nervous and then I can’t relax and then…” your lips open and close, “then I don’t feel good until…” you snap your mouth shut, shrugging once more.

“Until?”

You stare at your hands, tracing the lines of one with your thumbnail. You sense him come closer. He clears his throat and repeats his question.

“I can’t say.”

“Sweetheart, this is therapy, you have to be honest or I can’t help you. Don’t you want to enjoy yourself with Andy?”

“Sure, I– I guess.”

“I won’t judge you. You know that’s not what I’m here for.”

“But it’s bad,” you mope.

“How do you know? Is it hurting anyone?”

You poke your tongue into your cheek. Your hands ball to fist. Your cheeks are on fire. You know you shouldn’t say but you also shouldn’t lie and oh my gosh, you’re going to say it.

“You!” You nearly shout before you get a hold of yourself.

“Me?” He laughs again. Not mocking, but curious.

“I…” you take a breath and puff out, “when I… when we’re… doing things I… I think of you. I’m sorry,” you put your hands to prayer and beg him, “I’m sorry, doctor, please don’t be mad. I don’t mean to but my mind wanders and I’m sorry.”

“You think of me?” He wonders, not an ounce of anger in his tone. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s normal.”

“What?” You squeak.

“Sure it is,” he nears and sits beside you on the leather couch, “look, Andy is your first and only, right? So naturally, you’re curious. You want to know how it is with other people. That’s just human. When we go to the ice cream parlour and we choose a flavour, we always have a hard time deciding, don’t we?”

“I guess, but I… I… I shouldn’t think of you, though. You’re my doctor.”

“And I’m here to help, anyway I can,” he sidles closer, “it’s really not bad at all. You know, I’ve thought of you.”

Your lashes flutter and your mouth falls open. You can hardly believe what he’s said and with so little care. As if it’s no big deal.

“Yes, you,” he bends slightly, catching your eyes with his. His large hand rests warmly on your knee, “I felt a little of what you’re feeling now. I wasn’t expecting it but it was nice. You’re a pretty girl, you’re sweet, so obviously my mind would go there.” You watch how his tongue pokes out and glides between his lips before retracting, “it’s not what we do in here,” he taps his head, “it’s whether or not we act on it.”

“Oh?” You blink at him, nodding as you take in his words, “I… think I understand.”

“Besides, me and you, we have a special relationship.”

“We do?”

“Of course. Sweetheart, I’ve never known anyone like you. Maybe it is a bit too far to say it but you’re very special to me and I’m so honoured that I get to see you grow,” he smiles at you, his thumb rubbing your knee cap, “you’re like a butterfly opening its wings.”

You giggle. You feel giddy as his touch mingles with his compliment. You’ve never had anyone tell you anything so wonderful.

“Am I special to you?” He asks.

You’re breathless. You want to hug him and cry out ‘yes, yes, yes!’ but you know you can’t. You have to play it cool. Like he said, it’s not about what we think, it’s what we do.

“Yes, doctor, you’re very special.”

Your eyes drop to his hand and you watch him squeeze. Slowly, his touch snakes up your leg but he stops at your thigh, just at the hem of your dress. He feels the velvet and hums before pulling back.

“I miss your sweaters,” he says as faces forward.

“You do?”

“Yeah, they were very you,” he leans back and stretches his arm out across the back of the couch, “and everything about you is amazing.”

“It is?”

He looks at you with those eyes. You smile and wiggle on the cushion.

“It is,” he affirms, “let’s continue, when you think of me, what do you think?”

You swallow, nearly choking. You giggle again.

“Close your eyes and picture it. Let it out,” he says, “I’ll listen. No interruptions.”

You do as he says. You try to focus but it’s hard with him sitting right there. With the real him hearing every word. Every naughty word.

“We’re here on this couch…” you begin, and take a breath, clamping down on your knees.

“Go on,” his voice catches in his throat, his fingertips gently brushing along your shoulder, “be a good girl and tell me everything.”

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

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sillyunknownkitkat · 5 months

Note

hiii! can you please do a top!leon x bottom!plus sized fem reader? like him worshipping and praising her body before they do the deed 😮‍💨

thank you!! xoxo

Hi! I'm so sorry to answer this request so late. I hope you like it. I tried my best, but it's my first time writing smutt

Leon S. Kennedy x plus size!fem! Reader Nsfw

The actual "deed" is between the blue hearts dividers ;) feel free to skip it if you want to

Leon and you have been dating for a couple of months now. You guys have done the deed a couple of times by now. You'd think he would be a more "casual," but the man still treats you like the goddess you are EVERY.SINGLE.TIME

And of course, since he's not a pornstar, he actually gives you foreplay. And today wasn't an exception.

Like every day, you did a bit of work around the house, worked a bit, enjoyed a show or a book...

And now you're making butternut pastas for dinner/supper ( the inspo ).

Everything was going great. The dish looked and smelled heavenly, music playing in the background for you to sway your hips to, rain playing in the background, making a cosy atmosphere,... But better of all, while you were stirring your sauce so it didn't burn, you heard the door of your apartment open.

"Sweatheart, I'm home!" Leon says, all while getting off shoes and jacket off. He smells the air for a bit before walking up to you in the kitchen. You strutt quickly over him and give him a hug before pressing tons of little pecks on his neck.

"Hey there, what are you cooking? It smells amazing." He asks while looking at your pot and trying to figure out what's in there.

"It's a butternut sauce that'll go with pastas! Also, would you like me to cook you some meat with it? I forgot that it didn't have any proteins in it." You ask while looking up at him and then waiting for him to reply.

"Actually, there's something else that I'd love to eat right now." He mumbles against your neck before gently nibbling the skin there. You let out a small pleased sigh before looking up again at his face.

"What about the food?" You ask with a small pout. After all, you did work really hard to make him good food.

"Food can wait, but myself? I'm quite in need of your loving right now ___." He says before bringing you closer to him, turning the stove off and moving your pot onto your marble counter.

"Come on baby, don't you want to help me?" He insists a bit.

You let out a little huff before agreeing with him. After all, who were you to deny such a request? Especially from him.

So now you have the small of your back pressed around the counter while Leon leaves little love bites on your neck. You let out small moans before lightly grabbing at his growing boner. He lets out a pleased grunt, and his hands wait at the hem of your shirt for you to confirm that he can take it off. You grab his hand with your unoccupied one and move them up to tell him that you were indeed okay with him doing that. So your shirt comes off, and Leon is just looking at you with a mixed love-lust expression.

"I've seen your body many times, and yet I'm still amazed by its beauty." He lets out without even thinking about it. You blush a little, turn your head, and look away, feeling a bit shy from such a declaration, but Leon instantly grabs your shin and gently turns your head back to face him.

"Eyes on me, please." He commands in a soft tone. Leon isn't a hard dom. He's here for your pleasure, and god knows how much getting out of your shell is a turn-on for the both of you.

You obey like the good girl you are. You guys make out, his tongue being the dominant one, but yours still trying to dominate. He backs off a little so you both can catch your breaths. After a few seconds, he gets down on his knees before you, kissing your soft stomach and lightly gripping your hips, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

"Fuuuck~ You're so fucking perfect, you can't even imagine.." He says, breath caught in his throat because of how beautiful he finds you. He grips the aim of your pants and waits for you to confirm once again that you're okay. You nod your head, and as soon as you do, he helps you out of your pants.

He then kisses your tights, tracing your stretch marks with his finger before they get closer and closer to your still clothed pussy. You start to get really needy and grab his hand to get him back up again.

Once he's up you whisper "How did I get so lucky? You're the best I've ever had and probably ever will."

He kisses you with a big smile before saying, "Well sadly I couldn't be your first but hopefully I'll be your last baby." You almost tear up because of the cuteness of this genuine confession. Leon hands trace to small patch of hickeys and bites he made earlier before they lower and start massaging your breasts. He does that for a little while before he starts pushing his hips against yours. You both moan at the feeling. He lets out a little chuckle at his own reaction to such a small action before asking you, "Would you like me to eat you out before continuing ooooor?".

"Not right now no, I really need you Leon~" You moan out as he ruts against you, rubbing you clit unintentionally.

He smiles before getting his shirt and pants off. He grabs you ass so that you can jump to sit on the counter.

He grabs the hem of your underwear, and you lift your hips to make it easier for him to take them off. Once he's done, his hands go to your back and unbuckle the strap of your bra. You let out a small hum at the freeing feeling. Your chest bounced a bit once freed from its barrier. Leon almost drools at the sight. He presses his index and middle finger against your mouth for you to wet them. So you do. You even put on a little show, looking at him seductively and bobbing your head like you would do on his cock. He grabs his hard-on with his other hand and squeezes it. He groans and remove his fingers from your mouth to rub them against you pussy lips and spreading them so he can insert them afterwards. When you feel them in, you let out a moan and close your eyes before remembering that he wanted them on him, so you open them back up obediently. He fingers you for a bit before taking his boxers off and rubbing his tip against your hole.

He teases you by slowly pushing in the tiniest bit of his member before pulling out. He keeps doing that before you start whining, "Leeeeeon~," you kick your feet a bit like a child throwing a tantrum, which makes him chuckle.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Great. He also teases you verbally now.

"Nghhhh~ I need you in!!" You were starting to get impatient. How could he make you so horny just to deny you in the last moment?

"But I'm in. Look down sweet cheeks," he says while grabbing the soft of your hips.

"Noooo~!! I need you all in, need your cock deep inside of me!," and that's all he needed to hear before getting fully in and starting to actually fuck you.

"Fucking he'll, you're so tight on me. You really like this, don't you? " You whine and moan, and he grunts before continuing, "That's okay, baby, I fuck-~ I love it too. I love you, love your body, and love your pussy~"

You both keep going before you start to get close. Seeing that, Leon makes sure to keep the same pace that is making you close and rubs your clit with his thumb.

"Aaah~ fuck, I'm gonna-" and before you could even finish, your legs shake and you cum on his cock.

He moans out at the way you tighten against him while cumming, "fuuuuck~ gripping me so tight!"

He keeps fucking into you until he cums with the most beautiful chocked out moan that you'd ever hear.

After you both catch your breaths, foreheads against eatchothers, he wipes his cum off of you with his shirt, making you whine since your now sensitive, and helps you back in your undies and the shirt you wore before. He puts his boxer's back on and kiss your cheek before getting all of the dirty unused laundry in your laundry basket in the bathroom.

You smile, kinda in a silly fucked out way, and wipe your counter before getting back to cooking so the both of you can actually eat.

Once you both have eaten, you cuddle on the couch and watch a random show on the tv, just happy being together ❤️

Voilà! Hope it's was okay. I just find the "deed" part a bit rushed and awkward, but it's not that I'm uncomfortable writing it's just that I'm not used to writing this :)

Have a good day/night, and be safe, cuties!

#new writing blog #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil

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steddieasitgoes · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 17 Prompt: Accidental Kink Discovery

Tags: Established Relationship, Questionable Use Of Christmas Lights, Light Bondage? (In both senses of the word lol), Steve Harrington Is A Tease, Eddie Munson Is A Menace, Implied Smut, Italian Steve

wc: 1158 | Rating: M

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve’s in the kitchen, eyes glued to the simmering pot of sauce. He can hear his Nonna’s voice saying “eyes on sauce” over and over again, intermixed with the sound of the wooden spoon swatting through the air whenever he disobeyed. It’s been years since she passed, even longer since they stood shoulder to shoulder in her home in Italy, but the memory feels as fresh as ever.

It was a fight to get her to jot down the recipe for him all those years ago. Grumbling the whole time about how “recipes live in hearts not on paper.” But he’s glad he went toe-to-toe with her then. If he hadn’t he wouldn’t be here, christening his and Eddie’s new pot in their new kitchen with the smell of his Nonna’s famous sauce.

He’s carefully stirring the pot when he hears a crash, a slew of curses follows shortly after before Eddie’s panicked voice cuts through it all.

“Steve!”

Sorry, Nonna, Steve thinks, my boyfriend is more important than sauce.

Abandoning the sauce without even bothering to turn the burner off, Steve goes sliding into the room. He skids across the floor, spatula brandished in the air sending mariner sauce all over the place. On a path directly towards Eddie and their seven-foot tree, Steve flails his arms and manages to cling to their lamp to keep himself from knocking everyone, including their sleeping cat Bilbo over.

“What’s wrong?” Steve pants, already out of breath from his short trip and the anxiety building in his gut. He closes his eyes, hands flying to the top of his head as he tries to catch his breath.

“These stupid fucking lights,” Eddie groans. “I swear they come out of the box tangled!”

When he opens his eyes, he expects to find the traditional mess of tangled lights he’s grown accustomed to. A giant knot, a few loose strands, maybe Eddie frustratingly tugging at them making things worse. What he finds is so, so, so much worse.

Eddie’s standing in the middle of their living room. Naked Christmas tree to his left, a clutter of boxes to his right. The colored lights that are supposed to be strung on the tree, are wrapped around him from head to toe. Looped around his ankles, winding up his legs. His torso was a tangled mess with strands going every which way, creating knots here and there. There’s a strand pinning his wrists together in front of him and another that looks dangerously too tight around his neck.

“Christ,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. “Are you sure you didn’t fight them or something?”

“No!” Eddie hisses. His attempt at breaking free is thwarted, strands tightening with every little move he makes. “I was trying to untie them and then this happened.”

“If you say so,” Steve hums, slightly enjoying the sight of Eddie all tied up. It almost looks like he was trying to be the Christmas tree. Steve says as much.

“I was not trying to be the tree!” Eddie huffs, struggling against the lights again. “And if you don’t help untangle me right now. You’re going to be decorating that damn tree by yourself!”

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs, hands thrown up in casual surrender. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, I’ll help you.”

Steve knows Eddie must be frustrated when he doesn’t make his usual “I’m not wearing any” joke. Closing the distance between them, Steve assesses the mess from his new angle. He walks around Eddie a few times, trying his best to find the end of one of the strands but there’s no use — he’s a tangled mess.

“You really got yourself in quite a pickle, Eds.” Steve whistles to himself as he shakes his head. With no clear sign of how to untangle him, he opts for plan B: start at the bottom and work his way up.

Slowly and carefully he drops to his knees to start working on freeing Eddie’s feet. His fingers barely graze one of the strands of light, fingers ghosting over his exposed ankle when a high-pitched gasp falls from his lips. Steve pulls away and leans back on his heels as he gazes up at Eddie.

“You okay up there?” he asks, brow raised as he takes in the sight of Eddie’s blushing face.

“Mhm, yep, peachy,” Eddie says, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to look at Steve.

Steve hums and gets back to work. It takes a bit of patience and clever thinking, but Steve manages to free Eddie’s foot from one of the strands. With the end free, it’s easy to untangle the other leg until he hits another knot near Eddie’s thigh.

He tries the same approach, needling his fingers under the strand before wiggling them around in the hopes of loosening in. It works for a moment before Eddie’s body twitches against Steve’s touch and the strand tightens again. When he looks up to scold him, he finds Eddie’s head tipped back, lower lip wedged between his teeth.

Oh.

“Are you… Is this turning you on right now?” Steve asks, incredulously.

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

Steve doesn’t wait for a reply and instead lets his fingers trail up, up, up Eddie’s thigh until they’re settled just above the knot that’s formed. Eddie jerks at the touch and the strand tightens. This time he’s not quick enough to muffle the moan that slips from his lips.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans, arms thrashing in front of him as he tries to free his wrists from their constraints. “Would you quit teasing and free me already?

Steve hums in contemplation before shaking his head. “I don’t think you really want that. I think you purposely tied yourself up.”

“That’s stupid, why would I—“ Eddie’s words are cut off by a choked-out sob when Steve moves in closer, nose nudging the hem of his sweat pants.

“You know, if you wanted to try being tied up you could have just asked,” Steve says, nuzzling his face in the crease of Eddie’s thigh. He’s careful to avoid the bulb on the strand. The last thing they need is a trip to the ER because he got too excited and stabbed himself. He’d never live it down. “M’always down to try new things.”

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans as one of Steve’s hands slip under the waistband of his shorts, the other tugs at the loose end of the strand of lights, tightening it so Eddie’s body lurches forward again. “Just to be straight with you, Stevie, I really wasn’t trying to start something.”

“I believe you,” Steve says, glancing up at Eddie. “But I think we need to finish what you accidentally started, don’t you think?”

“Only if I get a turn after.”

“Deal.”

In the end, they end up with one ruined dinner (Sorry Nonna) and a new kink to add to their ever-growing list.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie smut #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson smut #eddie smut #steve harrington #steve smut #steve harringotn fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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silverhallow · 8 months

Text

Accidents Happen

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: Sophie and Benedict are roommates and when Benedict accidentally walks in on a rather private moment things get awkward between them until Benedict decides to act

warnings: masturbation, accidental voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, sofa sex, woman on top, teasing,

word count: 5012 words

author's note: this is just smut, no one asked for it but it’s roommates to lovers and my muse fancied writing it so I hope you enjoy it. It’s only going to be on here it’s not going on ao3.

Sophie had only been living with Benedict for four months, two weeks and three days when he walked in on her masturbating. He'd originally left with an overnight bag swinging from his arm and a casual comment thrown over his shoulder to let her know he was heading back to his mother’s for the weekend.

Not even ten minutes after he walked out the door she stripped down to her vest top and knickers, feeling an urgent need to relieve some of the tension that being around him regularly caused.

Everything about Benedict made him the perfect housemate, except for the fact that he was gorgeous. That had proven to be a distraction. His eyes and hair were a blue that made her want to get lost in them, along his addiction to rowing, combined with his job as a photographer and artist, helped maintain a long lean body. The playful way he had about him, from his sense of humour to his relaxed personality, pushed all the right buttons, and far more often than she wanted to admit.

She'd removed her bra and sat cross-legged on the sofa with a movie playing on TV for inspiration. Just as she really started getting into it, one hand inside her knickers and the other cupping the breast she'd tugged her top down to expose, Benedict barged into the flat rambling about having forgotten something.

He stopped mid-sentence and stared, his mouth opened, completely shocked as amusement filled his bright blue eyes.

Sophie seemed to recover first and screamed, "Oh my God, Oh, my God! Get out! Close your eyes! Stay there! Fuck! Just Fuck!" She scrambled to pull up her top and clamped her legs together, throwing the remote at him as a distraction while she sprinted from the room, mortified beyond belief.

Embarrassment swept over her again at the memory and she wondered for about the hundredth time whether she'd ever get over it, whether she needed to move out and just avoid him completely for the rest of her life.

She had to admit that she was lucky that she hadn't been calling out his name at the time. If he'd turned up a few seconds later it would have been a completely different story and she’d probably have left the country.

She sipped her glass of wine and stirred the sauce bubbling in the pot on the stove. It was already after seven. He'd be home any minute now.

Her exhibitionist moment had become that elephant in the room no one dared speak about but it was only a matter of time before he cracked and brought up the subject.

Since coming home from his weekend away a week ago he kept sending her amused glaces, seemed to confirm her hunch, the only reason he held back from talking about it was because it made her uncomfortable, it was making her squirm. This whole situation was entertaining for him.

Sophie heard the front door open and close and felt her heart hammering, she knew his routine, he usually headed down the hall to get rid of his art gear or his camera which ever he’d been using that day before he came looking for dinner. She took the pot of sauce off the hob and started to dish up.

Moments later he entered the kitchen, sending her a grin while he strolled across the tiled floor barefoot. She just knew every time he looked at her now he pictured that scene all over again.

"Hey," he said. He’d changed into a pair of shorts and a tight white t-shirt, showing his muscles off and making Sophie want to cry.

"Hi." Sophie smiled and met his eyes briefly. "Dinner's almost ready if you want to set the table."

She hated the way he made her feel, the way his chestnut hair gleamed almost red under the lights. He always looked so healthy and full of life while she felt like she was almost on the sickly side of skinny with mostly unremarkable features. Her only saving grace was a plump mouth tha, according to her last boyfriend, made her look like a pin up model when she wore red lipstick and a pair of breasts that were far too big for her frame.

Her job as a writer meant she sometimes worked from home so she'd thrown on an old grey t-shirt and black leggings this morning. Her feet were bare and her dark-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. A butterfly clip just barely held her messy blonde bun together at the back of her head. She felt like a complete tramp compared to Benedict.

When they were both sitting in the dining room near the window Sophie was barely paying attention as she speared a piece of chicken and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then quickly replaced it with another to avoid having to talk to him. She figured she’d speed eat like she had done for the last few nights and she’d disappear back into her room.

She wanted things to return to normal between them, that they could go back to sharing their flirty ways, teasing and having fun together. They'd clicked from the moment they met when she was desperate for a place to live and Kate had known Benedict needed a roommate and someone to help cook for him.

But now it was just awkward and the fault lay entirely with her, he hadn't changed a bit, she’d been the cause of the change in their dynamic.

Her eyes remained directed at her plate, determined to get through the meal without speaking to him. It was only when Benedict let out a snort of amusement that she raised her head and looked at him.

"It's natural, you know," he said, his gaze roamed her face, taking everything inch of her in. "To want to do it, I mean. Everyone does it."

Sophie closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this, Ben."

"I know."

She opened her eyes and made herself look at him, incredulous that he was bringing it up. "Then why are you bringing it up?"

"Because we need to talk about it." He balanced his fork on the edge of his plate. "This is serious, the tension around here's putting me off my food, it was bad before Sophie but this… it’s getting ridiculous."

Can't we just pretend it never happened?" she asked hopelessly.

"Sophie, it did happen and it's not a big deal. You're the one that is turning it into one."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, "That's easy for you to say. How would you feel if I walked in on you…” she paused for a moment before continuing “you know… pleasuring yourself?"

"I don't know because it's never happened to me. I always go somewhere private to...pleasure myself." Sophie could hear the humour in his tone and wanted to cry. "I've never set myself up on the joint sofa before and just gone for it."

Oh, my God. If the humiliation at hearing his words wasn't enough now she had the image of him all aroused to contend with, too, this really was hell.

Sophie pushed her plate away feeling physically sick and started to bang her forehead gently against the table. "I'm just going to bang my head here until I knock myself out, okay? Then maybe i’ll wake up and this was just some horrible nightmare."

"Oh come on Soph." His amusement only made the situation that much worse and honestly she was questioning why couldn't she be the mature one here? The one to just talk about it and clear the air and make things right. She was supposed to be the grown up one in this flat.

Sophie had her eyes closed but she heard the chair legs scraping against the floor then felt his hand wrapped around her upper arm. He tugged her reluctantly into a standing position, she knew he wanted to talk about it rather than eat his dinner and given she’d made one of his favourites in an attempt to distract her, made her realise just how determined he was to fix this problem.

She opened her eyes and looked up to stare up at him, blown away by the jolt of awareness she experienced, how close they were, how she could see the little flecks of light blue in his eyes, the black of his eyes seemed to smoulder.

"Why does it bother you so much?" he asked as his brows pulled together as he studied her, curious as to why this was really bothering her so much. Hoping that it meant what he hoped it would.

"Is it really that hard to understand? You saw me with my hand in my… you know…, Benedict. You saw my boobs, too." She turned her head and her entire body as she stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere other than here.

She didn’t want to be reliving and talking about the most embarrassing moment in her entire life.

“I only saw one boob," he corrected. "Albeit, a very...very nice one."

Her eyes flicked back to his eyes to check whether he was making fun of her but his compliment appeared to be sincere and she felt herself flush, "Thank you," she said.

"No, thank you."

A reluctant smile appeared on her lips, the compliment had caught her off guard and made her realise that she should have talked about it with him when it actually happened instead of leaving it to him to address the issue. It would have been a lot easier and possibly a lot less painful.

"It just feels like I'm at a disadvantage. You saw me during a very private moment. Which I know you think it's funny but I don't like you having that over me."

His mouth turned up at one corner, a smirk crossing his lips, playful and teasing as he asked "You want me to wank off in front of you to make things even?"

Her stomach fluttered at the thought, she felt herself growing wet at the thought of it even if he was joking to lighten the mood, she went to open her mouth, the word she knew what she wanted to utter, but all that came out was “erm….” as she gave a tentative and embarrassed smile

Benedict let out a bark of laughter, “I can't believe it. You actually want me to wank off in front of you”

Sophie kept her eyes on him and her mouth shut, waiting not wanting to give into her baser urges to herself, she refused to get herself in any deeper without some indication that he felt even a tiny portion of the attraction that tormented her on a daily basis.

He watched her and the humour slowly slipped from his expression, his eyes burned with an intensity that made her want to squirm where she stood, silence stretched between them, growing unbearable and almost tangible.

The silence stretched on and the strain between them grew until it eventually became unbearable. His gaze dropped to her breasts as they lifted and fell beneath her vest. When his eyes met hers again the intensity in them left her stunned. "If we're doing this I'll need some inspiration."

Her breath seemed to catch as her pulse raced. "Like...what?" She could barely get the words out as her body seemed to fizz.

"You’re a writer…Use your imagination." He smirked, taking her wrist and led her into the living room towards the two oversized leather sofas, the scene of her humiliation. He took her over to the coffee table and urged her to sit on the edge as he positioned himself on the exact same sofa that she’d been on and settled himself opposite her and relaxed and he raised his brow, "When this is over, so is all the awkwardness between us. I want the old Sophie back, I want us to go back to the way we were okay?."

She swallowed, she had no idea if he intended to go through with this, or if he was teasing her, waiting for the right moment to burst into laughter. If it had been any other Bridgerton, she’d have been assuming this was a set up but there was a heat in his eyes, that made her feel like this was for real. "Okay” she swallowed, knowing he was waiting expectantly for her to do something so just to be safe, she reached up to tug at the clip holding her hair in place. She pulled it free and her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and she tossed it side to side. "Does that inspire you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Benedict smirked and let out an amused breath, "You're beautiful Soph but No, I'm going to need more."

She hid her little smile of happiness at his words, at the warmth they encouraged inside her. Sophie pinched the temple of her glasses and went to take them off but he reached out quickly and stopped her "Leave 'em on," he said. “please…”

So he liked her in her glasses? That was interesting. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering how far to go, where to go next. She looked at him, she could see affection and a tenderness that filled her heart with happiness and he looked at her like she was some sort of goddess, wanting her to keep going. He just sat there patiently waiting, his hands resting on his knees while his gaze swept over her, helping her relax.

He wasn't pushing her or teasing her so she decided to take the next step, to stop being so afraid that he was going to laugh at her.

Sophie held her breath, steeling her nerves and gripping the hem of her vest, dragging it over her torso. The vest dropped from her slackened fingertips and she sat before him wearing only her blue lace bra and black leggings, an intense longing spread through her as she watched him watching her, the fire in his eyes almost burning her.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said.

She heard the huskiness in his voice and shivers tickled the surface of her skin. Before she could change her mind Sophie stood up and made quick work of removing her leggings. "I seem to be the only one who's actually doing anything."

She sat back down in her matching blue thong, gripping the edge of the table to keep her trembling fingers steady. "Don't you have a job to do?"

His mouth quivered with the smile she knew and loved. "Why don't you just tell me you want to see my cock?"

Desire swelled inside her, crashing in the pit of her stomach, making her feel as if she'd just lost her footing. She met his eyes and in a voice that had turned surprisingly breathy she said, "I really want to see your cock."

Benedict swallowed and he wanted to groan, wanting to throw her onto the sofa and have his way with her as he replied, "Keep that up and you'll be doing a lot more than looking."

He grabbed his top and leaned forward, drawing it over his head to reveal his entire upper body to her for the first time and Sophie nearly gasped. He'd never been one for strutting around the apartment half-naked and she regretted that the moment she set eyes on his bare chest.

"Wow." She felt a sudden urge to run her tongue over his abs. "You've got an incredible body, but I still don't see your...you know."

He chuckled and it thrilled her that they could find time to laugh despite the sensual nature of the moment. "You're a little eager, aren't you? Been a while?"

"Ages." she replied as she threw the last of her courage into the wind and reached behind her to the clasp on her bra. Sophie flicked it open and drew the straps down her arms until they settled at her bent elbows. She kept the cups in place with her hands and sent him an expectant look.

The idea of baring herself to him in this way made her heart race. He'd already told her he liked what he saw when he caught her here on the sofa a week ago but that wasn't the problem. It was her being almost naked and sitting just across from him while he was still covered up and she had to drag in a steadying breath.

He grinned and lifted his hips, shoving at the waistbands of both his shorts and underwear. He lowered them at the same time, stopping just before he got to the good stuff. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

She watched the ridges in his stomach contract and her mouth went dry. She really wasn't sure of anything right now and decided to play coy and smirked, "I won't be the one handling it, but I'm sure I'll enjoy watching."

He huffed out a laugh and his thumbs stayed tucked in the top of his shorts, teasing her with the skin he had on display and the mystery of what remained hidden. "There's only one problem here," he said.

She clutched her loosened bra to her breasts. "And what would that be?"

He met her eyes. "I didn't get to see you cum."

Her cheeks flushed and a quick thrill ran through her. She knew exactly what he was getting at; she'd have to be content with an unfinished show from him or join in so they could reach that peak together.

The thought of him in that moment, watching that look come over his face, she didn't want to miss out on seeing it for real, if this was her only chance at that, she had to take it. "You want to watch me?"

He gave her a wicked smile. "I'd rather make you come than sit back and watch, but I'll take whatever I can get."

Her heart slowed to a heavy thud and her mouth fell open "What?"

Benedict shook his head and laughed. "So pretty, yet so dense," he teased. "What do you think all the flirting has been about?"

"I just thought… I thought you flirted with all women like that." Knowing she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion made her happier than she'd thought possible. "You want to have sex with me?" Sophie narrowed her green eyes, staring at him. He'd better not be joking, this might actually kill her with mortification if he was.

"Hmm, no." His gaze travelled over her, pausing at her mouth before moving slowly down her body, taking her in, hungrily, greedily, knowing he could stare at her forever and never take her all in until he finally looked her in the eyes. "Having sex sounds so clinical. I want to fuck you."

She let out the breath she'd been holding, a little gasp of shock and pleasure as a surge of something completely and utterly carnal took hold of her, knowing "I didn't know," she said breathlessly. "I mean, look at you...and...look at me."

He frowned, appearing annoyed by that, as if he couldn't understand why she felt so out of her depth when it came to his physical appeal. "If you don't shut up and come over here I'm going to start wondering why I'm so hopelessly attracted to you."

She couldn't catch her breath. Her fingers tightened around the delicate material of her bra as she took it from her breasts and let it fall to the floor. Sophie shook her head slowly. "I still want to watch you," she heard herself saying.

His gaze dropped to her bare breasts and his jaw clenched as he fought back a groan. "Better lose the thong, then."

The expression on his face made her want to kiss him. A rush of need swept through her. Her nipples tightened into sensitive buds. She pushed herself off the coffee table and slipped her fingers into the waistband of her thong. Benedict's eyes followed her every movement and as she lowered the last offending garment he pushed his shorts and boxers down his thighs.

She stepped from her underwear just as he revealed his cock, inch by delectable inch. Her pulse raced. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. It was already hard and now she'd just found somewhere else on his body that she wanted to lick.

He kicked his shorts free as Sophie sat back down on the table. She perched on the edge, torn between the need to climb over him and straddle his lap or keep her distance for a better view.

"Ladies first," he said as a muscle twitched in his jaw. His eyes burned with need. She'd never seen this side of him before. Desperate, needy.

With a daring and boldness she didn’t know she possessed she lifted her feet, resting them on the side of the coffee table, while she slowly, slowly parted her knees. One hand reached behind her, her palm flattening against the table top for support. The other dipped between her thighs to tease her damp folds. Moisture coated her fingertips. She sighed, wanting to tip her head back but unwilling to lose sight of him for a second.

Benedict groaned and grabbed hold of his cock, stroking the thick, hard length as he watched her. His eyes slid over every part of her, from her face to her breasts, dropping between her legs like a physical caress. The veins in the back of his hand stood out. The way his fingers gripped his erection made her own move faster over her slick pussy.

She wanted his hands on her, all over her. She wanted to feel the damp heat of his mouth as it travelled across her skin, the rigid length of him as it sank inside her.

"I was thinking about you," she said, struggling to put the words together. "When you walked in on me, I mean." Her fingers slid over her clit, massaging the swollen bud while her gaze meshed with his. She hit a sensitive spot and closed her eyes briefly, swallowing a moan. "I always think about you."

"Sophie." She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. He let out a heavy breath that bordered on a groan, working his cock with increasing speed. The head glistened with moisture. She imagined lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. "Come here…. I want you."

His words gave her a head rush. She drew her legs together and warmth pulsed between her thighs as she rose from her position on the table. She took the two steps that lay between them, leaning over him to bring her mouth into close contact with his. He reached up with one hand and filled his palm with her flesh, massaging her breast, teasing her nipple while his lips brushed hers in a heated soul consuming kiss.

Sophie sighed and climbed over him, hovering with her legs spread either side of his thighs. She clasped her hand around his, encouraging him to keep stroking his cock. He groaned and pressed his mouth to hers, taking control, guiding the kiss. He took it deeper, drawing it out with slow sweeps of his tongue, soft nibbles of his lips.

He thumbed her nipple as a whimper sounded in her throat and her hand skated over her belly to delve back between her thighs. She found her wetness, teasing her clit once more.

With a moan she began to rock her hips to meet the firm glide of her fingertips. The slick head of his cock bumped against her knuckles as they both pleasured themselves.

Her control faltered and she kissed him harder, thrusting her tongue against his as her desire grew. Her hips jerked. She broke the kiss, her breaths coming heavily as she whispered, "Your cock...I want to ride it."

He growled and tugged harder at his thick length, using his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. "Cum for me first," he said, "then it's all yours..." He used his grip on her hair to hold her right there and crushed his lips to hers.

His tongue plunged into her mouth. A wanton moan tore from her and she rubbed her clit, massaging, teasing...pushing herself closer to the edge. Her eyes closed tightly, her only focus to hit her peak. She needed him inside her.

She needed him like she never needed another in her life. His hard, wet cock kept sliding against the back of her hand, taunting her, urging her on.

He seemed to sense her impending release. Either that or he was close himself. His mouth grew more demanding, his groans more frequent. Sophie's fingertips increased pressure on her clit, slipping back and forth. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck, holding on. Her belly tensed and her hips thrust.

His mouth roamed over hers, his tongue caressed. It only increased her desire, her need for him. His hand in her hair, his body beneath her, she wanted him so much.

Sophie pulled her mouth free to drag in a shaky breath before her forehead rested against his, their eyes meeting before she cried out his name as she began shuddering. It flowed through her in a surge of complete bliss. Her moan, when it came, was throaty and full of pleasure. Her fingers kept rubbing, her hips jerking.

While the final tremors still shook her body Benedict released her hair and clasped her hips and without a warning, knowing how badly they both needed it, he shoved his cock inside her, pulling her down to deepen the connection causing her to scream with pleasure. He filled her, harsh, fast. Her wet fingers dug into his shoulder, her other hand clutched his hair.

His deep groan against her throat made her shiver. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and fucked her hard. Sophie held on, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. Her breasts jolted against his chest. Her stomach quivered as the need built inside her all over again.

His arm tightened around her and he lifted her, still connected with him, lowering her onto her back on the sofa. He rested on one elbow, using his other hand to grasp her arse as he took her even harder. His cock plunged inside her, his hips smacking hers.

Sweat-slicked skin met sweat-slicked skin, his chest brushed against her taut nipples.

Benedict looked into her eyes, a glint of something wild in his gaze. His mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said.

Sophie clenched her thighs around him, linking her ankles at the base of his spine. "Shut up and make me cum."

He nuzzled her throat and chuckled. Damned if the sound didn't make a shiver pass right through her. His pace increased, growing in intensity until she found herself having a brand new appreciation for athletic men.

She met his thrusts with her bucking hips, tipping her head back and biting her lip. She felt it coming, the throb beginning between her thighs. Benedict's teeth grazed her throat and it was all she needed to give her that final push. Sophie gripped his shoulders and let out a hoarse moan, writhing beneath him. She was still so sensitive from the last effort that she wanted to pull away from him and get closer all at the same time.

Her release only spurred him on. Benedict's fingers dug into the flesh of her arse, pulling her toward his thrusts. His mouth travelled across her collarbone, moving up to her jaw. He rested his lips there, his warm breaths whispering her name over and over as he reached his peak. Sophie held on, bracing herself as he gave a couple of final, forceful thrusts, letting out a loud roar of her name as he came inside her.

She hugged him, her arms and thighs wrapping around him to keep him close. He relaxed against her, his heart thudding hard, his breaths wrenching from him.

Her eyes drifted closed and a smile claimed her features. She relished in the weight of him pressing against her. She couldn't believe how much had changed between them in such a short space of time. From the awkwardness this morning to this...

Sophie let out a trembling breath and pressed her cheek to his, closing her eyes to take it all in, committing the moment to her memory.

A short while later Benedict stirred against her and lifted his head. "Hi." He smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded as he lowered his mouth to give her a long, lazy kiss. She lifted her arms above her head, stretching leisurely beneath him and sighing as his lips moved over hers.

He gave her one final soft kiss and pulled back to look her over. "We're going to have to come up with some arrangement here… because I need to do this again."

Sophie lowered her arms, hugging his neck as she squeezed her thighs around him. He was still inside her and judging by that look on his face he'd be hard again in no time. "Really? You want to do it again, huh?" She could barely keep the pleasure from her voice.

"Yeah." He slipped his hand over her breast, massaging her flesh. "We were in such a hurry I neglected these glorious breasts. I need to make up for that oversight." Her breath caught and her hips lifted beneath him. He smiled. "Are you okay with that?" He dipped his head to draw her nipple into his mouth.

Sophie let out a sound that couldn't decide if it wanted to be a laugh or a moan. "Yeah, I think I can handle that."

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton smut #sophie beckett #benophie #Benophie smut #benedict x sophie #ash’s smut #bridgerton smut

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wandamyconfort · 11 months

Text

if I were you.. | CH.2

wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

summary: y/n is best friends with vision, who ironically, is the boyfriend of his worst enemy, wanda maximoff. until one night, when the clock struck midnight, they are both struck by something mysterious that completely changes the fate of their best friends, including a certain redhead… be careful what you wish for.

CH.1

sorry for any translation errors, english is not my first language

You woke up at 6:00 a.m. sharp as usual. I did this every day even on weekends so as not to lose the habit. Soon went to the bathroom to do his facial skin cleanse followed by 30 minutes of elliptical bike. a relaxing shower to soon after get dressed. a black blouse, jeans and white sneakers. you went downstairs quickly and ate breakfast.

Punctually at 8:00 a.m. you was at school, ready for another day that was already promptly scheduled; First class in history, Biology, Physics II and Mathematics. Then about 10 minutes to clear yourself of the likely scratch cards that were yet to come from Wanda, Valkyrie, Sam or Bucky. Then would perform his solo at the club leaving everyone else dumbfounded and dying of envy of his talent. Not to forget, of course, Mrs. Miller who would try to ruin his life. And later after school would go home to Vision to help him with his subjects which he was still struggling.

Vision left his girlfriend's house before the sun came up. Wanda's parents liked her boyfriend, but didn't find it at all pleasant for the boy to enjoy the moment. Since they had to spend the night out for work reasons.

Natalya and Erik worked together because they were two successful entrepreneurs. They had to always be traveling to conferences, meetings, outreaches, and partnerships with other companies. The trips were sometimes to cities closer but also distant, requiring them to stay up to four days away. That was one thing Wanda and vision had in common: the absence of her parents.

But Mrs. Agnes was the one who rescued the girl's parents. A very nice lady who bordered on 70 years old, gray hair and expressive blue eyes.

Wanda had her as a grandmother, or rather a second mother.

The lady who lived alone, despite having a granddaughter who lived in New York with her father, had been caring for Wanda since the frauds. She had a huge affection for the girl that only tended to increase.

Her house was close by, next to her own. To be sure. In her room, the girl was near the window that facilitated communication between them without having to go to the other's house.

- Banana and... Bacon? - asked moving closer to his bedroom window.

The woman nodded with her infectious smile as she stirred the pot.

- Are you coming for coffee or need a formal invitation? - Agnes asked, raising her gaze.

Wanda didn't think twice about running to her grandmother's house. she would never turn down bananas and a good bacon.

(...)

- Your clothes... I don't know what classification to put them in. - She said, as she analyzed you from head to toe.You just rolled your eyes.

- Y/N, l mean it... I've offered you a redesign but I don't know why it costs to refuse... Look at me. - Took a turn for you to analyze the look. - I'm from Celine today. - she said with a proud smile referring to the brand of your clothing as you looked at it as if it had three heads.

- Get out of the way, freak. - Insulted Bucky followed by a scratch card by one of his friends.

-Thug! - she let go as he took a deep breath covered by the newly scratched card.

- I think your Celine outfit is a lot better now. - You can't help it, trying your best to hold back the laughter.

Natasha ignored it.

"My eyes are burning," she paused for a moment and went back to talking still static. - My clothes will stain and my hair that took me hours to tidy up... And now see how it is! - She let out a scream tapping her foot angrily.

-Comes... Let's go to the bathroom. I help you.

(...)

It was exactly 7:30 p.m. when you arrived at the vision house. The boy opened the door and made a funny grimace.

- Punctual, huh? - Smiled letting you walk past him.

- As always. - she added and smiled when saw his mother in sight there.

- Good evening, Mrs. Stark.

- Hey, good night, Y/n! - Smiled friendly at the girl. - I already told you it's just pepper. Without that Mrs.

you blushed in agreement.

"Son, I'm going to have to be on call again today. It was an unforeseen event, Patricia asked me to replace her and I could not deny it... But I've already prepared dinner. - Argued for vision while fiddling with something inside the bag.

The boy sighed shaking his head in agreement.

- Feel at home, honey. - she said goodbye to the two of them by placing a kiss on each other's foreheads. Already near the door she looks at the vision and smiles.

- Mom Loves You.

Vision just gave a half smile listening to the door of the house closing.

- You should tell her. - You filled the silence that had become.

- Say what?

- Vision... Don't make a fool of yourself. To say that you miss her, her company. Saying you wanted her to spend more time with you. Who loves her!

- I don't know what you're talking about. - He tried to disguise himself while looking at the ground.

-Let's go... Stop. I know you very well. - Got close to him stroking the boy's arm.

"I'm your soul sister, remember?" I know you like the back of my hand.

"So let's go, my soul sister, take my math questions because I'm completely lost. Since the teacher arrives saying "Good morning, class!" I get lost. - he tried to change the subject by making her friend laugh.

He led you into the living room where there were several books on the table.

"And there we go," - you whispered.

(...)

The night quickly followed. You tried to help him with all the doubts without realizing that the hours were passing. He looked at the time on his cell phone and almost had a heart attack when he realized it was 11:27 p.m.

- My parents must already be worried, I have to go.

- Yes, of course. I accompany you. - He said already getting up and screwing up his whole body making a grimace appear on his face when he heard several streaks that to you, were agonizing.

- No need. I'm walking and it's not even that far, just a few blocks...

- I'm not crazy about letting you go alone, especially at this time. Not even thinking. - Grabbed his coat that was on the couch and put it on.

"Okay," rolled his eyes. - I'd really be scared to death of going it alone.

-I know. I know you like the back of my hand. - Smiled repeating the same phrase she had used hours ago.

(...)

It was cold and You ran his hands over his arms to try and warm himself in vain. When he realized it, he instantly took off his coat and gave it to you, who smiled thankfully. You both traced the path by talking about trivial things without being able to avoid spontaneous laughter until you stood on your feet staring at something. The boy frowned looking at you and followed gaze. There was a fountain with a large gray statue in the center, very beautiful. you who adorned that huge almost empty square. had never noticed that source there, so you assumed it had been placed recently. Without holding back, they came closer, exploring her.

They just watched her for a while until her voice broke the silence.

- Vision... Why are you with wanda? I swear I don't understand. - It's been a while since you've wanted to ask that.

-Why not? I like it, simple. - Said friendly.

- I honestly don't understand how anyone can like wanda maximoff. She's so... urg. - He shook his head in disgust.

- You say that because you don't really know her. -Retorted. You snorted looking at him.

- I also don't understand how I can be friends with Sam and Bucky's idiots. They're disgusting!

- I'm not friends with them! We're just teammates on the same football team and that's it. You don't see me talking to them, do you? - He shrugged. - And it wouldn't go down well either, since they threw scratch cards in my face when I was a rookie.

- You said it. - Retorted sarcastically

- I don't know what you're complaining about so much, Y/n. Your life is perfect! - you laughed incredulously hearing that.

- No kidding, right, Stark.

- i'm serious. You are decisive, you don't care what others think of you. You know where you came from, where you're going, you have two parents who love you and who will always be by your side. you has an amazing voice for just a seventeen-year-old girl. you has a bright future as a singer, always knew what you wanted and fights to achieve it tooth and nail... And me. He looked at himself letting out a nosey laugh. - I'm a guy who has no idea what he's going to do after high school, I don't know where I'm going... What good is this 'popularity' now, if in a few years it will be worth nothing?

- What are you talking about? - She asked incredulously. - My life sucks! Everyone sees me as a loser and deep down I really feel that way. I'm not as determined as you think, I try to show myself like this to camouflage my insecurities and not feel like garbage like everyone makes me feel. You are the Quarterback of the team, handsome, popular, all the girls die of love for you. Date the most beautiful and popular girl there, everyone loves you there and... - You rambled and Vision rolled his eyes.

- that's enough!. - He snorted, interrupting his speech. - Don't fuck, Y/n...

- Your life that's perfect here! - You finished by tapping your foot.

- It's yours. -Insisted.

They began a discussion about the perfect life monologue between them. you turned your back on him crossing your arms with a frown ending the argument, Vision did the same. Their breaths were flawed from the debate. They stayed like that for a few seconds, not knowing each other's next move, they both turned forward screaming together:

- I wish I had your life! - They shouted in coincidence, actually ending the discussion.

The pole light flashed instantly and shattered startling you who took a step back. All the lights in the square began to flicker as they broke soon after, leaving the two of them staring at each other in the total darkness of the night.

(...)

you woke up early, at the usual time, slowly opening your eyes, still sleepy you headed for the bathroom when you stopped on your way looking at the bedroom.

What the hell am I doing in the vision's house? -you thought out loud looking around recognizing he friend's room.

- I remember going home and... - Murmured thoughtfully to herself. - Oh, shit! My parents are going to kill me... Sleeping here unannounced, they'll have the marine guard after me by now! - You raised your voice.

- You frowned. - Damn, I've gone hoarse. - This time you whispered, and choked, noticing that your voice was thick.

You didn't think twice and left the room, stunned and sleepy. You went down the stairs looking for the exit, you had to leave urgently and you would get out of there without waking anyone.

It was then that her reflection caught her attention in the mirror that adorned the wall in the large room. you frowned more and took a few steps back. The first thing she did was to widen her eyes, petrified, and cautiously observe if what her eyes stubbornly showed her was just a dream.

Slowly you moved hands up to his face, feeling it, now was sure that this was not a dream? It was a nightmare! You opened your mouth in horror and began to scream sterilely. Your eyes were still on the mirror that showed you the reflection of your friend Vision.

You screamed, screaming louder and louder.

- Son, what happened? Are you okay? - Questioned Pepper, newly awakened by the screaming, walking down the stairs in her pajamas, almost tripping over her own feet, totally frightened.you still had your eyes wide open. you didn't answer, just stared at your reflection in the mirror.- Son? Why are you screaming?

- she approached me, evidently concerned, touching the shoulder that was supposed to be your son. There were no answers to your questions.

- This can't be happening? - you hissed almost inaudibly. Hearing that thick voice, which was not her own, made her even more terrified. - If I'm here then vision is... - you whispered thoughtfully, and without finishing reasoning, walked quickly to the door with quick steps. you just didn't expect to fall. you wasn't used to those long legs.

you stood up again, grabbing the first pair of pants saw on the way. pepper stared at the scene in confusion.

- Where do you think you're going at this hour? - The woman asked as she saw him open the door.

- Don't worry, Mrs. Pepper, everything is fine! - you replied at last unconvincingly, his voice shaking terribly. you tried to calm himself by walking out the door, leaving the stunned and even more confused woman in the middle of the room.

- Mrs. Pepper? - she murmured confused.

(...)

every evening after dinner, scott and hope would sit in the living room in front of the fireplace and talk about banal things, accompanied by a good wine, which always made them go to bed later, which resulted in: they always woke up later the next morning.

you always reproached them for this. always saying that we should all get at least eight hours of sleep. But today you were grateful for that. You entered the house very easily with the extra keys that your parents left hidden in one of the flower pots in the garden.

she closed the door, trying not to make a sound. Her parents were completely unconscious on the living room floor. She walked cautiously up the stairs on her new long legs. If they woke up, she would be dead because she had been caught in the act. After all, what was the boy doing there at that time? She arrived in front of her door and began to knock, trying to make as little noise as possible.

- vision, open this door. - She whispered and knocked again.

You cursed yourself for always sleeping with the bedroom door locked, since you liked privacy, but at this moment you really wanted to break the damn door down and you were sure you could.

- Vision… Damn it, vision, wake up! - You increased the frequency of your knocking, realizing that you wouldn't wake the other one up.

The boy frowned, his eyes still closed.

- Y/n? - he asked lazily, still getting out of bed.

- Open the damn door! - Despair was already taking over his body when he heard a pair of footsteps downstairs.

- What are you doing here? - He didn't finish his sentence after opening his eyes and observing the place.

- Hey… What am I doing in your room?

- Vision, will you please open this fucking door?! - I was getting more and more nervous, impatient, scared, and afraid of what was going to happen behind that door.

- Hey, calm down, I'll be right there… - He speech died after opening the wooden door, now the two were face to face looking at each other in terror.

- You… but I… what?

Vision couldn't formulate a sentence so he limited himself to screaming. you entered, locking the door behind you and covering the boy's mouth to stop the screaming.

- Damn it, don't scream. You'll get my parents' attention! - you whispered.

- Will you be quiet? - vision shook his head frantically.

- W-what happened? - He managed to speak in a stutter, his eyes opening wider and wider as if it were still possible.

- I don't know. I have no idea, when I woke up I was like this. - She spoke quickly, apprehensive, looking at her body.

- If you are me and I am you, then… - He looked stunned at his new body and his eyes widened. - damn y/n… I HAVE BREASTS! - The boy shouted hysterically, running his hands over his body.

You, who hadn't stopped to notice this derealization, turned red, and became hysterical again.

- Oh, holy shit, I have too much volume between my legs.

Unlike Vision, you didn't dare to put your hand on the new body, you just looked down and even though you were wearing sweatpants you could feel it.

- Y/n, honey, is everything okay? - Scott's voice made itself present, knocking on the door, and you widened your eyes.

- Answer! - you whispered to vision remembering that you couldn't do it with that man's voice.

- Yes... Everything's fine baby! - The boy murmured in a shaky voice, trying to sound natural with that feminine voice. He scratched the back of his neck nervously at the girl's gaze on him.

- Everything's fine baby? - mumbled Scott, confused by his daughter's slang, but shrugged. - Come down, coffee is ready. - He said as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

slapped Vision on the head, who was now smaller than you.- Everything's fine, baby? Everything's fine, baby?

- I didn't mean it. I was nervous!- It's okay... - He sighed, running his hand through his hair and soon missed his long hair.

- Y/n, what are we going to do? I can't go home like this... - He spoke angrily on the edge of the bed.

- Calm down ... First let's think about what could have caused this. - Reasoned a little trying to keep calm walking from side to side with his hands in his hair.- Maybe it was something we ate...

- Don't be an idiot. No food, no matter how bad it was, couldn't have done such damage.

- Sorry, I'm nervous... - He stood up, tapping his foot on the floor at every moment without taking his eyes off the body he now occupied.

- Or maybe... - You looked at him who now occupied your body.

- Last night... When we came from your house... - You said thoughtfully pausing the words and Vision seemed to understand.

- In the square... - He followed your reasoning.

- The fountain...

- We wished...

- To have each other's lives! - They concluded together.

- No, no, not this! This can't be happening… I didn't mean it, and how is that possible? I was happy with my life, I want my body back! - The young man spoke in agony pacing back and forth in the middle of the room.

- I didn't mean it either, I was just trying to be nice. And this is all your fault, if you hadn't started with the 'Your life is perfect, y/n, blah blah blah' talk, none of this would have happened.

- My fault? It's your fault that you came up with all that monologue about the perfect life and 'Your life is perfect here, Vision'. - he imitated in annoying little Y/N voice, a perfect imitation, by the way, since the voice was her own.

You looked at him with a frown and went on. A small fight started between the two of you, who were now rolling on the floor of the room.

- Give me my body back! Give it back! - Vision shouted, his small body on top of the other as he squeezed what had been his face the night before as if he wanted to get her off him.

- No! You give me back my body! - you shouted, now taking control of the fight and standing over the other, pulling the brown hair that used to be his.

- Ouch, ouch, enough! - he pushed her. - This way we won't get anywhere! - Vision put an end to the fight.

- You're right... Instead of fighting let's try to find solutions to solve this. - she stood up and helped the other soon after. - And I think I already know where we start...

The two went out the back door without being seen by Scott who was watching TV. Hope was still asleep, now lying on the sofa. You, who now occupied the boy's body, were dressed in a blue tank top that made the blonde's statuesque body clearly visible. A pair of black sweatpants and sandals. Vision who occupied your body was wearing his pink pajamas and put only a jacket on top, they drove to the square where everything started.

When they arrived at the place they were surprised, for there was no fountain anywhere. But there was a huge hole where it used to be, with pipes in sight and some bricklayers assessing the place.

- What happened here? - Vision asked, approaching one of the bricklayers involved in the work.

The same one stopped his work looking at the two young people, immediately looked at Vision drying him, seeing that the unknown girl was wearing a baggy pink shorts leaving her legs showing. You, who was behind Vision, noticed this and made a face of disgust, clearing his throat.

- Ah, there was a problem with the plumbing, some pipes burst, that is, a disaster! We'll have to replace everything.

- And the fountain... where is it? - You in the friend's body asked, checking all around without any trace of it.

- It had to be removed while we fixed everything.

- But you don't know where they took it?

- Um... No. But if you go to the city hall, I think someone can tell you. - The youngsters didn't waste any time. The town hall was right in front of the square.

- Can you give us some information? - The person who occupied the Y/N body turned to the old receptionist, with a face that said 'I hate my job'.

- It's about the fountain that used to be in the square. We want to know where it is. - You who occupied the boy's body asked, already impatient.

- I don't know. - answered automatically while you were messing with the computer.

- What do you mean you don't know? For God's sake, it's a fountain with a huge statue right in the center.

- Calm down. - interrupted the boy next to her. - You'll have to excuse her... I mean, he! - He corrected himself when he noticed the confused look on the woman's face, who was now looking at them with an arched eyebrow. - It's just that that fountain was of great sentimental value to us... So if you would be so kind, could you help us, please?

- she rolled his eyes at the girl's plea. - not in town, I don't know exactly where are. There's no information here. - she said while his dark eyes checked the computer screen. - But it says here that he will be back. Well, let me see…

Your eyes scanned the screen and you started tapping your foot on the floor impatient with the delay.

- Ah... Here it is. In a month it will be back.

- ONE MONTH? - You shouted and some people who worked there looked at him. Vision, occupying her friend's body, elbowed her in the rib.

- Okay. Thanks! - Vision resigned himself. he knew she had nothing else to do but wait. He pulled his friend's strong arm and left the place to spare themselves from further humiliation from the stares and whispers of several people who were in the place stared at them for not being dressed appropriately. Especially you, who was now him and tentatively wearing pink pajamas.

- What are we going to do now? - You groaned, putting your hands through your hair. You were visibly worried as you stared at the road in the passenger seat and at the driver's seat occupied by the body that now didn't belong to you.

- I don't know. - You looked at her and saw your own worried brown eyes. - I guess we'll have to wait... I still don't understand how that fountain could have caused us this. I mean, what kind of fountain was it? Fountain of desires? - he exclaimed sarcastically, making quotation marks with your fingers without looking away from the road.

- I don't understand it either. But now that you told me that, I remembered something… - you was trying to remember. - Just below the central statue of the fountain there was a small metal plate with some words… Do you remember?

- I think so… - he wrinkled his forehead, thoughtful. - Yes, there was but it wasn't in English so it didn't hold my attention much. It seemed to be in Italian, or Russian or German… I don't know. - He was also trying to remember.

A brief silence flooded the car and Vision decided to go home, and as the clock was eight o'clock he assumed that his mother would already be in the hospital.

- Wait... Fare Attenzione a ciò che si desidera! - you tried to pronounce the words that were now invading his mind.

- What? Speak our language, Y/n! - That was the phrase. - And what does it mean? - he asked confused.

- I have no idea? but we can find out. - You answered, getting out of the car and following the boy who had already opened the front door. They confirmed that the boy's mother had already left for work with the typical notes that they used to leave her, this time on the coffee table in the living room.

"Son, I won't be on call today, Patricia is already better and will be taking over my shift as a thank you, I was worried about how you were this morning. You looked dazed. I'll be early, don't be late for school.... Mommy loves you."

Vision was reading that note as You already took hold of the small laptop, which was sitting on top of the couch. To search for those unknown words that now could not get out of your head.

- Be careful what you wish for... - You whispered, seeing the meaning of that phrase, still keeping your eyes fixed on the computer screen in your lap.

- So... That's it. I guess we'll just have to live each other's lives. - murmured the boy, coming closer.

- Are you crazy? - you asked incredulously. - We have no other way, you heard that lady. The damned fountain won't be back for another month, what are we supposed to do between now and then?

- Let's tell someone what happened. - Maybe someone can help us. - You said.

- Do you think that's a good idea?

- It costs nothing to try. - you frowned and remembered something, looked at the clock on one of the walls. - Damn, Vision, it's going to be almost nine o'clock, we're already late! - you whined, crying. Yes, you were crying, but not because you were going to be late, that was just a pretext. You were crying because you were terrified of everything that was happening.

- Stay calm. It's okay if we're a little late, everything will be fine. I'm here, we're in this together.

He knew you better than anyone else and knew you were afraid so he wrapped you in a tender embrace which resulted in you both feeling strange, embracing yourself was indescribable

- Besides, I'm horrible at crying, so stop. - He said in a humorous tone, separating from the hug and looking at the face that until yesterday belonged to him.

You couldn't help but draw a small smile at the comment.

- Have I ever said I have a nice smile? - Vision asked smugly, causing you to slap him. The boy looked at you with a pained expression, it had hurt.

you chose not to take a shower, you really weren't ready for that yet. You couldn't imagine cleaning a body that wasn't yours, even though you knew it would happen at some point. You still needed to assimilate all this, so you just changed clothes trying to keep your eyes closed with the help of Vision who showed you what to wear: a pair of beige jeans, a white tank top, and a green plaid shirt over it, and sports shoes.

- Y/n, I don't even think I'll need to go to your place to change. - You had slept a few days ago at your friend's house because of a double work and decided to stay there. you should have forgotten that sweater and a pair of jeans that had already been washed.

- Great. Then get dressed and let's go.

- I think I should take a shower first. - he said expectantly with a humorous sideways smile.

- Don't you dare! - You gave him a murderous look.

- Okay. The one who spoke is no longer here. - He laughed lightheartedly and started to change his clothes.

(...)

In less than ten minutes by car they arrived at the school. In the end neither of them had been late, because the first class was geography for both of them and it had been vacant. Then they walked, as if everyone in the hall knew it, towards the lockers to get the books for the next class.

- Are you ready? - sighed the boy with all his belongings in hand.

- I think so.... I mean, no! - She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them, she was nervous.

- And you?

The image of Valkyrie and Sam appeared in the hallway with the usual scratch card in their hands. The tall girl smiled with amusement as she saw Loki picking up his books from the floor, freshly knocked over by a basketball player. As the boy stood up with everything in hand, the girl knocked the scratch card right into his face, who now dropped all the books again to wipe his eyes.

- You immediately closed your eyes tightly as you saw Sam come close. But the cold scratch never came.

- Damn... I had forgotten how it burns. Poor Loki. - muttered the boy, his eyes closed with anger.

At the same moment you opened yours and found your friend's face all soaked and squeezing his eyes, at that moment you mentally thanked for not being in your body.

- You'll have to get used to this. - You helped him clean himself up.

- This is supposed to be the moment when you are supposed to help me look on the bright side of things. - He opened a small smile still scratching his eyes. Vision quickly remembered something and opened his still red eyes and looked startled at you.

- What now?

- Damn, what are we going to do with Wanda? - You widened your eyes.

- Oh... Oh, shit! - You cursed.

- Vision, why didn't you call me yesterday?You said you would call me but I didn't get any call from you. Why didn't you call me? - questioned the redhead who had approached the two of them.

- I'm sorry... - She interrupted herself realizing the situation she was in. The girl who had her hands on her waist dropped them when she heard the other's voice. She turned her eyes away from Vision and looked at the girl, seeing how soaked she was, she tried to hold back her laughter.

- Your house ran out of water and the only way was to take a shower with a scratch pad?

- You hunchbacked ass...

You couldn't continue with the insult as Vision glared at you with his big brown eyes followed by an elbow in the arm subtly so that Wanda wouldn't notice.

wanda was surprised that Y/n didn't retort to her insults. But she paid no attention to it and turned her gaze back to the boy. He looked as if he was having an epileptic fit because he was so restless in his seat. Tension took over. Vision didn't know how to act in front of his girlfriend and you just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

- Wanda I-I'm going to class now... - You tried to be as natural as possible in front of the other's attentive gaze on you. - Talk to you later, okay? - You improvised, slowly walking away taking Vision with you.

- Vision. - called him in a velvety voice making both of them stop their way. - Aren't you going to give me even a kiss?

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fluff #the scarlet witch

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thefangirlofhp · 6 months

Text

20. helping hand

The children swarming Elain’s surroundings are busy as a hive as they run around shouting and jumping—on paper, they are technically helping set up breakfast but Elain’s been calling out the same instructions ten times without being heard, and can feel her voice stretch thin in her throat. She minds her steps, careful not to topple over any runaway toddler or crawling babies, as she brings out all the eggs from the kitchen.

There are a few older children, thankfully, who have proven to be enormous help to their caretakers and are actually helping Elain set up breakfast and enforce a sense of order on the other children. It’s a notable effort, but useless in the face of an excitement that is contagious and proliferative.

“You know they’re not usually like this,” Lalita, one of the only two caregivers, tells Elain as they set the table. “But they get very excited when you come.”

“I am sorry,” Elain smiles, not feeling very remorseful; it isn’t conceivably possible to be upset at being the source of joy to someone, much less displaced orphans from the war.

“Don’t be, we need all the help we can get,” Lalita replies with a charming smile.

“There’s still no-one to help you?” Elain inquires. “I thought Mr. Horace would be employing three new people by now.”

Lalita scoffs. “He did promise that. Last year. I keep sending comprehensive letters explaining in great detail our requirements but if he doesn’t reply, he makes vague promises.”

“Do you know why?” Elain frowns, distributing bread slices on mismatched colorful plates that Drisa, one of the older children, dutifully spreads out along the long dining table.

Lalita shrugs, giving the pot of oatmeal a final stir before pouring a serving in a bowl. “What else? Funding deficiency.”

“Money?” Elain repeats, a little incredulous. If there’s anything she’s learnt about Prythian, and the Night Court’s star, Velaris, then it is that money is never a problem in the court. Being the geographically largest court afforded many sources of revenue, especially with the mines in the mountains and even with the recent war and the detrimental losses that Amarantha’s reign cost them, they’re still pulling ahead of every other court.

She’s not sure how the economy works here, or how the court exactly allocates its funds, but from the mere salaries of the people around her, like the twins, Elain’s arrived at a conclusion that everyone in the court is well-off. Her own weekly allowance from her sister (something admittedly embarrassing to receive, and one she’s tried to protest much to the pointed deafness of Feyre and Rhys) is more than she deserves, allows her to indulge in luxury and even donate much of it.

“Mhm,” Lalita nods. “It’s always not enough, when I request new mattresses for the children or furniture. Or when a new season comes, and the children are due for a wardrobe upgrade—I do make do with what I have, you know. Hand-me-downs and cutting corners, but it’s getting too much.”

Elain frowns. “Where does the funding come from? I’m certain that the High Lord and Lady alone donate enough to give the children a life of luxury.”

Lalita quirks a brow. “I’m certain they do. A lot of people give a lot of attention to the children, but all donations are given to the charity, and its chairmale divvies it up how he sees fit. Apparently he doesn’t see fit to increase the budget, or so Mr. Horace claims but I’ve heard that he’s recently acquired lands down south.”

Elain stills. “What’s his name?”

***

“Can I ask you something?”

It is fortunate that Elain waited until Azriel’s had dinner to ambush him—a kind exaggeration of what she actually does which is waits until he walks into the living room and pipe up with the question from the other side. Thankfully Rhys is outside, speaking with Amren over a matter “of great importance” but Elain knows it’s an excuse for Amren to indulge in her strange-smelling cigar which Rhys claims he does not partake in but evidence suggests otherwise.

Azriel pauses, and courteously bows his head, his hands tucked behind his back. He rounds the couch and stands close by.

“Can I—” Elain hesitates, wringing her hands. “Would it be ethical of you to disclose some information that by nature of its obtainment is not meant to be public knowledge?”

Azriel’s eyes sharpen, and gleam, from what Elain feels is a cloud of hazy darkness that dims his surroundings. His lips curve. “No, it wouldn’t.”

She bites her lip tightly.

A curious smile. “But that’s not what you meant to ask, anyway.”

“No,” she confesses quietly.

“And I am not an ethical male.”

She perks up. “Truly?”

His eyebrows curve and twist as he shrugs. “What do you need it for?”

“A good cause,” she reassures.

“I didn’t think you’d do this for personal gain, my lady,” Azriel smiles. “Well, I suppose I can afford you the curtesy of not asking—what do you need?”

Her hands drop to her sides—so easily, just like that? Elain was going to request sensitive information that neither she nor anyone should have, and Azriel the spymaster whose responsibility is to reassure it remains for his ears only is fine with it?

“There’s a male, he’s responsible for the charity sponsoring an orphanage I volunteer at, sometimes,” Elain elaborates, gesturing Azriel sit down as she takes a seat at an armchair. “There’s a sneaky suspicion I have that some…embezzlement is afoot.”

“Oh,” Azriel remarks, reclining in an armchair across her. “That’s a very serious accusation, Elain.”

“Oh I know,” she emphasizes, wringing her hands. “Which is why I need proof, or something to use to set him straight.”

“Orphanages are well-looked after,” Azriel runs a scarred hand through his hair, and pats it down. “Why do you suspect?”

“I mean the charity itself has claimed to its employees a shortage in funds,” Elain pulls out a scroll from the pocket of her dress bearing the notes she’s made. “I’ve interviewed a few people in charge, and I’ve seen the records. What funds are being allocated to the charity from the court and private donations would never dry out so quickly. It’s impossible. There is a fortune missing, but I’ve been chasing dead-ends, and cannot find substantial or reliable records. And the charity refused my request to see the books.”

Azriel’s brows narrow. “What do you need?”

“Any information I can use, on Lord Chester.”

His brows rise. “Lord Chester is—”

“I know. I know—a well-respected member of society and courtier—”

“I was actually going to say he’s a nasty piece of work.”

Elain freezes, before a laugh escapes her. Something tells her ‘piece of work’ would not be Azriel’s choice of words, normally, and appreciates the curtesy. A spymaster with manners, how rare. How wonderful. “Really?”

Azriel grimaces as if the mere mention of the male reminded him of a bad smell. “Oh of course. I never liked him. He’s been in the court for far longer than I have, and I couldn’t stomach him from my first day.”

Elain briskly waves away the image of Azriel being a novice at court. “Would you help me, then? I need some form of leverage over him. Something to make him let me see the books.”

“He’ll never willingly hand over evidence to his crimes.”

Elain nods. “Which…is why I need your help.”

Azriel stares at her for a while before his eyes lighten up in a way she’s never seen them do before. A dangerous grin widens his lips. “Oh,” he sits up slowly, and Elain cannot shake off the resemblance he bears to a predator that’s set its sights on a prey. “You intend to be unethical, which is why you asked after mine own.”

She holds back a smile. “For the children.”

“And luckily for you, my moral compass is broken and I do not like Lord Chester.”

#elain archeron #voluntering at orphanage #azriel shadowsinger #spymaster collaborating with local amateur investigator looking into suspicions of embezzelment #elriel #elriel fic #a silly lil' spies at mission fic #azriel #acotar #elain x azriel #acotar fic #this does have a part 2 btw

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kyuuppi · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader (gn)

Contents: established relationship; fluff; Wanderer uses demeaning names for Reader (but still loves them); soft Wanderer; bad at feelings Wanderer; consumption of fish

Word Count: 1.4k

Scaramouche would have never imagined that he would be here.

Then again, there were many aspects of Wanderer's life that Scaramouche would have never imagined. Like this moment now, bustling around the tiny kitchen of a cozy apartment and impatiently glancing at the clock every few seconds. He stirs away at a bubbling pot of pasta to ensure it doesn’t burn on the bottom but remains warm enough to serve when you finally arrive.

Speaking of which where the fuck are you, you promised you’d be home early today— he had made sure of it before you left this morning. But’s already half past six and you’re usually home by six fifteen so you probably forgot and now his plans are ruined and—

The obnoxiously familiar jingle of keys followed by the squeak of the front door interrupts Wanderer’s thoughts. His shoulders slightly droop with relief as he turns off the stove bringing the pot over to the neatly arranged dining room table to finally plate the meal.

“Took you long enough,” Wanderer says as if it were a proper greeting. And perhaps for him, it may as well be.

As usual, his sharp words fall off your back like water, much too used to his pissy attitudes by now, several years into knowing each other and nearly a year into a romantic relationship.

“Sorry,” you huff out as you finally shrug the heavy tote bag off your shoulder.

“I ran into Tigh on the way back from the market while I was picking up some new books,” you begin to explain as you shuffle into the dining area.

“He said he was looking for spices Collei requested for her new recipe. Oh, have you ever had her pita pockets before? I know you’re picky about food but they’re actually really good and I think you– whoa … what is this? ”

Your story is cut short as you finally seem to take in the setting before you. As your eyes dart across the table your mouth falls open, appearance akin to that of a goldfish. If he weren’t so uncharacteristically nervous, Wanderer might have laughed at you for how dumb you look.

But instead, he silently places the emptied pot in the sink, uncaring of the intimidatingly large pile of dirty dishes—he’ll get to those later.

With quick strides, he returns to the dining table, taking a seat in front of one of the two plates of steaming rosé pasta, violet eyes seeming to glow in the dim candlelight as he shoots you an expectant look.

“What does it look like, dumbass? It’s a candlelit dinner,” Wanderer sneers, “now hurry the fuck up and eat before it gets cold. I put a lot of effort in this shit, y’know.”

As Wanderer stabs a picks up a bundle of spaghetti noodles with his chopsticks you seem to finally regain your wits, forcing yourself to move and take a seat as you glance between the crystal vase at the center of the table, filled with deep red dendrobrium accented by thin branches of sakura bloom, the dancing flames of the osmanthus-scented candles placed strategically around the room, and the generous helping of what appeared to be cod roe pasta with rosé sauce plated on the finest china you two owned–a housewarming gift from Zhongli. It most certainly is the epitome of a candlelit dinner if anyone had ever seen one.

Wanderer tries to look unaffected as he digs into his own dinner but he finds himself tensing as you promptly take your first bite. You hardly even chew it before your eyes close in bliss and you moan out words of praise that make his chest burn with something akin to pride.

"Your cooking is always so amazing,” you proclaim.

"This is nothing special. Any fool could make a decent pasta," Wanderer shrugs off.

He hopes his ears don’t look as red as they feel as he hurriedly shovels more pasta in his mouth just to have something else to focus on. Praise was something he had always sought–whether from his creator or a nameless mass of devout followers. It made him feel powerful, above all others, like an archon .

And yet, somehow, praise from you felt completely different. Your praises sent a flutter through his chest cavity that he was sure should not be physically possible. Rather than feeling stronger than anyone else, your praises made him feel just strong enough . Just worthy enough to exist, to atone for his sins, to stand beside you. And he thinks the most disturbing part of it all is how satisfied he is with just that. A vengeful, artificial god who once dreamed of ruling all of Teyvat now equally happy just being by your side–what a strange joke.

"But," you hesitantly start, breaking Wanderer from his self-reflections, "what's all of this for?"

His reply is simple, "today is the day of that silly holiday mortals celebrated in your world, isn't it."

You nearly choke on a noodle at the implication.

“We're celebrating Valentine's Day ?"

Wanderer shoots you an annoyed glare at your incredulous tone before abruptly pulling away from the dining table and approaching your side instead. You’re still seated and gaping at him like an idiot with a pair of chopsticks in your hand, a clump of noodles limply hanging off of them.

"Of course,” he answers smoothly, “we're a couple now, aren't we? And you're quite lucky because my generosity today does not end with dinner."

Wanderer kneels down on one knee before you, a sight no one in Teyvat or even worlds beyond could have ever imagined possible for the egotistical puppet obsessed with the notion of reaching godhood.

But Wanderer was no longer that vengeful Balladeer anymore. He is merely a wanderer, living as a mortal alongside the person who was somehow able to capture his nonexistent heart and give his life a newfound meaning filled with simple joys he never thought possible. And now, he can only hope to return just a fraction of the happinesses you have given him in the form of a little black velvet box.

You audibly gasp when he pulls the small box out of his pants pocket, holding it out in front of you and opening it to reveal a silver ring. In the center of the thin metal band sits a decently sized diamond, accented with small amethyst gems that sparkle under the flickering candle light and remind you of the eyes of the man himself.

"Before you get the wrong idea–this isn't a proposal or anything," Wanderer grumbles, avoiding eye contact as his cheeks flush.

"it's just…a placeholder. I'll give you the real one in a few years."

The last part is mumbled in such a low tone you would have missed it had you not been seated right in front of him.

Slowly–just long enough to have Wanderer’s stomach churning with his anxiety and second-guessing his every decision–your brain catches up and a slow grin splits across your face.

"Thank you, Kuni... it's beautiful," you whisper, eyes watery.

The use of his original names seems to amplify the intimacy of the moment. Wordlessly, Wanderer stands from his kneeled position, plucking the small piece of jewelry from the box and taking your hand with an unexpected gentleness.

He slides the cool metal on your finger—the fourth finger of your left hand.

For a moment, you both admire it in awe. He can’t help the first thought that pops into his head, the thought that it suits you.

Like was always meant to be there.

Like how he was always meant to be here, with you.

"I love you," you murmur.

When he turns to look at you, he finds you already staring up at him, all soft smiles and twinkling eyes, as if he had personally hung the moon in the sky. As if he was the most important person in your world. As if his worth far exceeds anything he was created for and anything he imagined for himself thereafter.

Wanderer doesn't say anything but he firmly squeezes your hand and brushes his thumb against the new ring on your delicate finger.

A placeholder.

#better late than never LOL #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenario #scaramoche imagine #scaramouche scenario #wanderer imagine #wanderer scenario #kyuuppi.event

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

Note

was thinking all night of an eskel request, and i think i finally got one! eskel pining for the reader while at kaer morhen for the winter, maybe some teasing from the other witchers? super in the mood for fluff, so if you get around to this, extra cuteness plsss and thank you!

Before the Snow is Gone

A/N: My friend I will ALWAYS be happy to write up your requests. I'll admit that I really struggled with this one for some reason, but I hope I made it comedic and fluffy for you!

Pairing: Eskel X Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: bit of angst and depression (from Eskel)

_______________________

Geralt and Lambert poked their head around the frame of the kitchen door as another sigh came from the room. There they watched Eskel look forlornly into the stew pot as he stirred, his eyes and thoughts somewhere far from here.

“Is he still sighing about missing his lover?” Lambert whispered to his white-haired brother, watching as Eskel began rummaging through the spice jars, looking depressed at each and every option.

“He’s been like this for 2 weeks and we’re only a month into winter... Even Lil Bleater can’t cheer him up like she used to.” Geralt said, shaking his head as he watched his brother finally settle on a spice and add it to the pot.

“What are we looking at?” Asked Yennefer's voice as her head appeared between the two men.

“Is Eskel moping again?” Jaskier asked now, his head poking out above everyone else’s.

Geralt blinked as he looked up at his bard. “Jask, you’re shorter than I am. How are you-?”

“I’m standing on a chair…” he admitted as everyone pulled away from the doorway to talk face to face.

“There has to be something we can do. I don't want to eat sad stew again.” Lambert complained with arms crossed.

Yennefer was the first to pipe up this time, “I... think I may have an idea..”

----

Lil Bleater propped herself up on his legs, baaing and begging for attention as Eskel took care of the other stable animals. She huffed when she didn’t immediately get the petting she craved and stamped her feet against him.

“I’m sorry, Kiddo… I guess I’m just not really here right now.” He said as he finally took the time to pause and look down at her frustrated grunts. Another sigh left his lips as he kneeled down to pet her and jostle her horns in a weak effort to play. He knew he wasn’t being any fun lately and he knew everyone else could see it. Hell, Vesemir even tried to have a talk with him the other week, but it had little effect.

He couldn’t help it if he missed you so greatly. He had spent his warmer months being by your side as much as he could. Memorizing your voice, your eyes, and the feel of your hand in his as much as he could so it would all be perfect in his memory when winter came.

But now… now it was only making it more glaringly obvious that you really weren't by his side. That you weren’t truly there to whisper to him in the dead of night when he can't sleep, nor to smile at him as you simply passed by.

“I don't know what I'm gonna do for the rest of the winter, Bleater… it’s getting hard just to get out of bed each morning, let alone go through my chores.” He mumbled softly to the bright-eyed kid. “I’m a witcher, you know? I should be better than this… I’ve faced vampires, and dragons, so-” he paused for a moment as he idly scratched Lil Bleater’s chin. “So why is it so hard to leave...? Even when I know I’ll be back…”

Lil Bleater only quietly baaed in response, trying to soothe her dedicated caretaker, but not sure how. So she does what all goats do best- she chews on his fingers.

Another sigh from the soft-hearted witcher, this time with a small smile, “I Love them so much…” he mumbled out, getting lost in his own thoughts again, until an unexpected voice pulled him back with a snap.

“I Love you too, Eskel.”

He blinked as he heard it. That was… your voice…? That was your voice! It was you! Eskel spun around to face where the sound came from and nearly dropped Lil Bleater back to the ground when he saw you.

There you stood in the open stable doors, wrapped in your warm winter clothes, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and a big bundle of clothes in your hands. Your breath puffed up in front of your face as you dropped your bag and ran straight into his arms.

Eskel could hardly contain his excitement as your beaming face came running into his embrace. “You’re here..! but, how…?” Eskel asked, hugging you tight against his chest and drinking in your scent. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead and your temple as you tried to answer, but you couldn't get your words out past the laughter bubbling from you.

“We thought you could use a visit...” came Yennefers voice as she also drifted into view of the stable doors, followed by Geralt, Lambert, and Jaskier. “You’ve been moping about for weeks now and I figured it's easy enough to conjure a portal,” she shrugged, “I open up another portal Home in a few days, so enjoy it.”

“Geralt, Lambert, and I are also gonna take care of your chores, so you can enjoy your time together.” Jaskier chimed in with a thumbs up and that characteristic charming smile,“and that time starts now, so go on and get out of here! Shoo! Go be gross and in love,” he said, quickly ushering you two out and tossing your bundle of clothes at Eskel.

Laughter trailed behind you two as Eskel led you inside so you could settle down. However, Eskel rumbled with quiet excitement, and as quick as you settled he was taking your hand to show you everything about the keep. From the kitchen to the armory and everything in between, your beloved witcher just wanted to share every part of his childhood home that he held dear on your first visit.

“I missed you so much” You mumbled as you took a pause from reading.

Eskel had finally snuck you away to the Keep’s library at the end of the tour so you two could spend the perfect first evening together. Hot chocolate filled your mugs and your sweet whispers filled the air as you read to him. His head lay tenderly on your chest as he soaked in the warmth of your presence. The fire crackled softly before you and everything was just as it should be.

“I missed you too… I’m glad you finally get to visit after hearing about it so much” he lifted his head to smile up at you, that notch in his lip tugging it into a larger grin. “And we’ll make the most of our time here. I promise. We can do anything you want- build snowmen, ice skate-”

“Even just cuddle up under a blanket to fight off the cold…?” you offered with a shake of your head and a chuckle, “I don't care what we do, Eskel, as long as I can be next to you. We could spend the entire visit cleaning up horse shit and- as long as I don’t get any on my face- then I would still consider it an amazing time.”

Eskel’s chest rumbled with laughter that easily passed through your whole body, “I mean- that can be arranged…”

An even stronger laugh emanated from him as you poked him in the ribs and frowned, “I think I’d rather fall in the lake, Esk. Let’s just take this day by day, okay?” you asked, running your fingers through that lovely dark hair of his. “I love you so much, Eskel. No matter what we do or how far away you are or how hard it is that I can’t see you.”

You smiled as you pressed a soft kiss to his slightly chapped lips,“and I love knowing that I’ll be able to see you again as soon as the first flowers bloom.”

“Oh, Darling,” Eskel smiled, his expression easy and light as his honey-like eyes melted your heart into a sweet puddle, “I’ll be at your door long before the snow is even gone.”

___________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight (<3) @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

#eskel x reader #eskel x you #eskel x y/n #eskel x reader fluff #eskel witcher #eskel imagine #Eskel #Eskel fluff #eskel fic #kaer morhen #Geralt and lambert are great brothers #and Yen and Jask are superior friends #tw3 eskel #tw3

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sydsaint · 10 months

Text

Idc he's hot 💛💚

Summary: After months of listening to Rhea and Dom, the reader snaps and leaves Judgement Day. Lucky for her, Jordan is an old friend and more than willing to assist with her new problem.

Raw is about to go on air and Judgement Day is all grouped up backstage.

"I think that Dom and I are gonna start the show." Rhea grins to herself. Dominick hanging off her shoulder.

"Oh, what a surprise!" You mumble under your breath from next to Finn.

Finn nudges you gently on the shoulder, warning you not to start something. But Rhea managed to hear your little comment. "What was that, Y/N?" She asks you with a raised brow.

"Nothing." You reply dryly. "Have fun out there." You fake a smile.

Rhea stares down at you for a moment through her thick false lashes but does not say anything else. She walks off and beckons Dominick to follow her.

Once Rhea and Doninick are gone, Finn turns to you with a stern look on his face. "Really, Y/N?" He scolds you.

"What?" You huff. "I'm right, aren't I?" You defend yourself. "Just because she's a champ doesn't mean she's got to act all high and mighty."

"Just, don't start anything with Rhea, Y/N. Please." Finn begs you.

You roll your eyes at your best friend but give in to his demand and nod. "Yeah yeah." You grumble.

Rhea and Dominick come back through the curtain a few minutes later after both of them managed to stir the pot and get Dom booked for a match. They walk over to you, Finn and Damien grinning at themselves.

"Now that'a how you open a show." Rhea laughs with Dominick.

"Yeah, being bitchy and entitled to the crowd until someone wants to come out and finally shut you up. Real original." You just can't help yourself.

Finn clenches his jaw next to you and rubs his forehead. He knows a fight can't be far out, now.

"What was that?" Rhea glares at you with a hand on her hip.

"Yeah! You can't talk to Mami like that." Dominick steps in.

You roll your eyes and shoot daggers at Dominick. "Fuck, you are so annoying!" You sneer at him. "Are you even capable of doing anything but dickriding Rhea like your life depends on it?!"

"Hey!" Rhea steps in.

"And you! God, I cannot stand you!" You point a finger at her. "We get it! You're every teenage boys and gay girl's fantasy woman! No one cares! Try getting an actual personality and fans that aren't horny teenage boys!" You fume.

The room falls silent as you and Rhea size one another up. Rhea goes to speak up finally, but you stop her. "Don't!" You warn Rhea. "I'm sorry, Finn. I love you, but I can't spend another second pretending to care about those two. I'm out!" You turn sharply on your heel and dismiss yourself.

You storm out of the backstage area fuming to yourself. People duck out of the way as they see you coming down the hall. But one person doesn't budge when you cross his path. Finn's old protege, JD McDonagh. Aka Jordan Devlin.

"Woah, who are you headed out to kill?" Jordan puts a hand out in front of him and stops you from advancing down the hallway.

"I'm not in the mood, Jordan!" You growl.

Jordan chuckles but doesn't budge. "Well, I can see that." He chuckles. "Where's Finn at? Or the rest of your crew?" He asks you.

"Ugh, don't even get me started." You seethe. "If I have to hear about Rhea or that idiot Dominick again I swear I'm gonna lose it." You grit your teeth.

"That so?" Jordan replies. "Hell, say the word, darling. I'll head over and kick some manner into Ol' Dominick's ass right now." He suggests.

You shake your head, finally coming down from your outburst. "If I wanted that idiot's ass kicked, I'd do it myself, Jordan." You insist.

"Fair enough." Jordan nods. "You can always hang out with me tonight, darling. I'd love your company tonight if you're not hanging with Finn and the crew." He offers.

You think for a moment. The idea of hanging out with Jordan again doesn't sound terrible. The two of you used to hang out often back when Finn was still training him.

"I guess hanging out with you might not be so bad." You tease Jordan with a sly smile. "So, what's up? Got any plans for tonight?" You ask him.

"I've got one that you might like, yeah." Jordan nods and slings a casual arm over your shoulder. "I'm sure that you're aware that your bestie Rhea got Dom scheduled for a match tonight?"

You nod and turn your head to face Jordan as the two of you walk. "No, you didn't." You are quick to realize what Jordan is implying.

"Oh, but I did, darlin'." Jordan nods with a mischievous grin.

"No way!" You laugh. "Oh, this is perfect!" You clap your hands together. "I could kiss you right now, Devlin!"

Jordan laughs with you and holds his arms open with an inviting smile. "Lay one on me then, darlin'." He offers.

"I was kidding." You roll your eyes with a playful giggle. "Maybe if you win though." You tease him.

"Against Dominick Mysterio? Easy." Jordan scoffs confidently. "Come on. Let's go score ourselves an easy win for me and some sweet revenge for you."

You and Jordan head down to the curtain. Dominick is already out in the ring with Rhea at his side. And neither of them has any idea what's about to happen to them.

Jordan's music hits and he heads through the curtain. You wait a few seconds so he can get his full entrance done before you head out and shock the crowd.

You lock eyes with Rhea as you make your way to Jordan's side and he slings his arm around you again. She stares daggers at you and you return the look of disdain. Dominick is a little surprised to see you with Jordan. But one whisper from Rhea and he's ready to go.

"Go kick his ass." You offer Jordan a last word of encouragement before he climbs into the ring.

The match begins and you stalk around the ring to where the commentary table is. Rhea sneers at you as you pass her, but you just keep on walking.

"Y/N! This is certainly a surprise." Corey greets you when you walk over to his side of the table. "Tell us, why exactly are you out here with JD Mconagh instead of your Judgement Day colleges?" He asks you.

"I am no longer affiliated in any way with Judgement Day, Corey." You explain with a smile. "I joined Judgement Day when it was a group for people that wanted to be dominant and on top." You add. "Not some rat tag group of wannabes and glorified social media stars."

Rhea turns around when she hears your statement. The two of you stare at one another for a moment before you casually go back to chatting with Corey. You voice your displeasure that Finn won't be joining you. But besides that, you show no remorse for your prompt exit from the group.

Around the end of the match, Rhea takes it upon herself to help Dominick out so he can pull a win. But you are there just in time to stop her.

"Why don't we let mister Latino Heat, handle this himself, Rhea." You stand directly in her path.

"Ha! You think that I'm scared of you?" Rhea laughs.

You stand your ground with a cool smile on your face. "I know you are." You grin at her. "You're scared of me, Rhea because I have the one thing that all those other girls didn't. A partner."

The bell rings again and Rhea's head snaps to the ring just in time to see Jordan's hand being raised. You laugh as she fumes and slip into the ring and over to Jordan's side.

"Nice work, distracting Rhea for me." Jordan grins as you raise his hand in victory.

"My pleasure." You grin at Rhea outside the ring with Dominick. "You won. So lay one on me, ace." You tap your lips gently.

Jordan cracks a larger-than-life grin. "Yes, ma'am." He wastes no time and you find yourself in a dip before Jordan's lips are on yours.

#wrestling #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #jordan devlin #jd mcdonagh #the judgement day #rhea ripley #dominick mysterio #monday night raw #finn balor #wwe x reader #x reader

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coopigeoncoo · 1 year

Text

Hot Dish, Chapter 1: The First Course

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Sexual content, Exhibitionism, Chikan, Heavy Petting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Safe Sex, Consentual Sex, Swearing, Romance, Soft Shigaraki, Posessive Shigaraki, Domestic fluff, Mutual Pining

---

Down on his luck and scrambling for survival, Shigaraki Tomura was just looking for a place to score a hot meal.

Instead, he ended up scoring a hot date.

--- "You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Tomura glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

--- A slow, domestic romance between a volunteer at a soup kitchen and the newly destitute leader of a notorious villain organization.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 1: The First Course

It was the busiest time of year at the soup kitchen. The weather had recently turned bitter cold and the promise of a warm meal and a respite from enduring the brutal weather was too good of an opportunity for people to pass up. You had started volunteering during high school, looking for a way to beef up your college applications, and found a great deal of personal fulfillment helping out others in your free time.

Now in college, you still made time to regularly volunteer even though your budget would greatly benefit from you picking up more shifts at your part time job instead. But you were driven to altruism by that stubborn organ beating in your chest; reminding you of how much you loved the regulars, your friends in the volunteer group, and the feeling of contributing something meaningful to society.

As much as you enjoyed the work, there were definitely plenty of things about it you wish you could change; the biggest being the terrible feeling you got when the time came to shut the door and cut the line off because you'd reached maximum capacity for the night. Having to turn people away, hungry and cold, always gnawed at your conscience and you desperately wished that you had a Quirk that could somehow stretch your food supply farther- make every bite more filling or every pot bottomless.

But you didn't. So as soon as the last pan of curry was placed up onto the chafing dish you waved to get the attention of the volunteer at the door, a massive literal bear of a man, who then began to make apologies to the people queued up outside as he closed up the entrance.

"Looks like Scruffy Hot Guy didn't make it in today," Kiyomi, your long time friend and fellow volunteer, teased with a gentle elbow to your ribs.

"Oh, hush!" You chide her sharply as you scoop up rice.

"Relax! It's not like I'm going to tell the guy you think he's- what were your words? 'Brooding and mysterious'?"

"I deeply regret telling you that," you grumble irritably as you slide a plate in front of Kiyomi for her to ladle a serving of curry onto. Laughing at your expense, you watched as she gave the curry a stir, counting the remaining chunks of chicken and mentally calculating how to divide them up fairly amongst the remaining guests in line. The next few plates were distributed without incident, people quietly thanking you both as they received their entrees and continued down the line as you and Kiyomi chatted together.

You were dishing up one of the final scoops when a deep, growling voice interrupted you.

"That ain't enough rice," the man in front of you grumbled in complaint. He was unbelievably tall, his head nearly scraping the spotty and discolored ceiling tiles as he crossed his arms across his chest, flexing his basketball-sized biceps in an obvious bid to intimidate you. You had never seen him before, but that wasn't terribly uncommon as people generally filtered in and out as they moved around the city looking for new job opportunities.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that ain't enough damn rice. That might be enough for a small thing like you but I need more."

"I'm sorry, sir. Everyone gets the same dinner serving size to keep things fair. Further down the line we have protein bars and fruit that you can supplement your meal with-"

"I don't want protein bars!" The man yelled. "Damn things taste like sawdust!"

You were about to offer another apology and attempt to diffuse the situation when another voice spoke out from behind the irate man.

"Take the food or get out of line."

"What did you say?" The man screamed, spinning around to confront the man behind him.

"Scruffy Hot Guy," Kiyomi gasped in delight. Sure enough, the object of your idle gossip appeared from behind the screaming man; somehow managing to appear both disinterested and profoundly irritated by the goings on in front of him.

"I'm hungry and you're holding up the line. Move, " he practically growled from behind his facemask, his red eyes narrowing in warning. The large stranger threw his head back, clearly amused by the willowy man's implied threat.

"Oh, yeah? Tell you what, why don't you just give me your portion then? No way a stick like you needs to eat much."

You didn't clearly see what happened next. There was no scuffle or physical altercation, just Scruffy Hot Guy hooking a finger over his facemask, preparing to pull it down, as he disappeared behind his aggressors' wide frame. The next thing you knew the large man was reeling back, white as a sheet, as he tripped over his feet in his hasty scramble to the exit.

Scruffy Hot Guy stepped forward in the line, now occupying the space in front of you as he adjusted his facemask back into position and pulled the sides of his hoodie forward to obscure his face as best he could.

"That was amazing," you breathed, scooping up a slightly larger helping of rice onto his plate now that there was one fewer person in line. "What did you even do to that guy? A Quirk thing?"

"Nah," Scruffy Hot Guy shrugged, scratching at his neck uneasily under your scrutiny. "I just showed him my face. Guess I must be pretty ugly."

"I sincerely doubt that," you laugh as you push his plate down the line towards Kiyomi. "But even if you were, I'd still give you my number if you asked for it," you said, staring directly into his eyes and raising your eyebrows imploringly. His eyes widened, obviously stunned by your flirtation. The skin above his facemask burned a brilliant red, temporarily coordinating with his eyes in a very fetching way.

He mumbles something under his breath as he quickly averts his eyes, hunching his shoulders as he shuffles down the line; grabbing the completed tray from Kiyomi’s hands before loading up his coat pockets with protein bars and trail mix packets and sliding into an open seat on the far end of the room.

Kiyomi shakes her head, laughing at your rejection as she preps the final plate of the evening.

“What?” you huff in exasperation. “You can’t blame me for shooting my shot! I’ve been waiting weeks for an opening!”

The last person in line, an old woman who came around every week or so, tsked disapprovingly. “The Gods take the time to craft a man with a butt like that and you wait weeks to make a move? Are you really that stupid?”

“Hey!” You screech indignantly while Kiyomi throws her head back, cackling. “I’m not stupid! Just…cautious. You never know what someone is really like, you know?”

“True enough,” the old woman hummed, gently rummaging through a pile of overripe bananas. “But I take it that you have a better idea of what sort of man he is now?”

You spared a glance over to the far side of the room, where Scruffy Hot Guy was slowly savoring his meal; his hood pulled low down low to obscure his face while he ate.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Scruffy Hot Guy hadn’t seemed to be particularly receptive to your first advance, but he also hadn’t outright rejected you either. So you’re currently stuck occupying some sort of weird flirtatious limbo; unsure if you should continue your pursuit or abandon your efforts entirely.

Deciding to play it by ear, your life cycled through your normal routine until your next shift at the soup kitchen.

“Well, well, well! Look who it is!” Kiyomi crowed in delight as Scruffy Hot Guy stepped up in front of you again. “Our very own Hero has returned to us!”

“Please, Kiyomi,” you scoffed as you slid a grilled fish onto a plate. “He’s better than a Hero; he’s a good person.”

“Aren’t they pretty much the same thing?”

“Not always,” you mumble, using your tongs to scrape at some fish glaze that had burned at the bottom of the serving dish, entirely missing the interested gaze of Scruffy Hot Guy quietly assessing you.

"Oden today," you said as you ladled broth into a large soup bowl, chunks of fish cake floating up to the top.

Scruffy Hot Guy peered at the bowl, seemingly unimpressed by the offering.

"Not a fan?"

"It's fine," he mumbled, placing the bowl down gently on his tray, careful not to spill a single drop despite the bobbing radish slices sloshing the broth about.

"If you have an allergy or something there are some leftovers from yesterday I can reheat for you."

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head gently, pausing to spoon some seven spice on top of his bowl. "I usually try to pack some of the food away for later. But soup doesn't travel very well."

You hummed thoughtfully as he finished his meal selection and took his seat. Once the line had died down you ducked back into the kitchen, snagging a disposable coffee cup and lid before making your way back to the cafeteria. Silently, you deposit the empty cup next to Scruffy Hot Guy's tray before continuing on past his table to grab a tub of dirty dishes to haul back to the kitchen for cleaning.

"Thank you," he said quietly as you passed behind him, carefully spooning a hardboiled egg into the cup you'd left him.

"Of course."

"We have to stop meeting like this," you sighed dramatically, passing him a bowl of stir fried vegetables.

"How else would we meet? It’s obvious we run in very different social circles."

"What makes you say that?"

"Really?" Scruffy Hot Guy scoffed.

"I'm serious!" You pouted, looking critically down at the parts of your ensemble visible around the disposable apron you were required to wear. You took a lot of pride in your appearance, a good portion of your slush fund spent on building your wardrobe and keeping your nails finely manicured. Friends had joked about your high maintenance appearance in the past, but you personally likened yourself to a painting; already beautiful to start with but an absolute masterpiece with the right frame to accentuate your features. Finding no obvious flaws in your appearance, you narrow your eyes at him peevishly.

"Are you saying you'd be ashamed to be seen with me?"

" What," he sputtered, his voice pitched somewhere between shocked and indignant.

"Don't you 'what' me, mister! I'll have you know that I'm hot enough to roll with any crew."

"That's not the issue."

"It's not? So you think I'm hot then?" you pry coyly, fluttering your lashes. Choking on air, he slams his bowl of vegetables down onto his tray and quickly bumbles away as you laugh.

"Where’s the bun?" Scruffy Hot Guy asked, staring down at the lump of meat you were serving up.

"It's hamburg steak, not a hamburger."

"So it's a burger. With no bun."

"Right. No bun, but there is gravy. You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Scruffy Hot Guy glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

Cheeks rosy above his facemask, he mumbled something intelligible before calmly stepping away. Smiling widely, you spun on your heel to face Kiyomi.

"He didn't run away!"

"He didn't run away," she confirmed, laughing as you pumped a fist in victory.

"Soooo," you drawl sweetly. "Am I ever gonna get a name out of you?"

Scruffy Hot Guy visibly stilled, obviously deeply uncomfortable by your current line of questioning.

"No need to answer if you don't want to. I won't pry. I can just call you by the nickname Kiyomi and I gave you," you offer in concession, laying a generous serving or rice gratin next to a small pile of lettuce leaves.

"What name is that?"

"Scruffy Hot Guy."

A sound that could be best described as some sort of plaintive wail escaped Scruffy Hot Guy as he scratched nervously at his throat.

"You should-," he paused to swallow thickly. "You should call me Tenko. It's better than- than that."

"Tenko it is, then. Hot Guy Tenko."

"You're insufferable," he growled.

"Well, misery loves company so how about you and I suffer together over coffee sometime?"

"Don't turn my insults into propositions," he chided, selecting a small pouch of dressing for his wilting salad.

"Sorry, no can do. I'm nothing if not persistent."

"Persistent? That's a considerate way to frame that bratty attitude of yours."

"Oh? What would you call me instead?"

"I would call you what you are," Tenko says, the space between his eyes crinkling with malicious glee. "An absolute Pest."

"Tenko!" You gasp, a gloved hand raised above your chest in mock outrage. "Save the cute nicknames for when we're in private!"

Tenko grunts irritably as he rolls his eyes and steps away from you.

Kiyomi whistles sharply, waving a hand to fan at her face. "Goodness, that was intense. When's the wedding going to be?"

"Spring next year. I want a long engagement so I can save for my dress," you grin, sending a wink at Tenko when you catch him trying to sneak a glance back at you. He glares back before dropping his head and digging into his meal.

The past few months had been the absolute lowest point in Tomura's life. His Master had been brought low and imprisoned in Tartarus, the League was fractured and forced underground, and all of his available resources had been drained during the frantic scramble for survival those first few weeks he spent on the lam. His life of ease and luxury had been erased in an instant; falling to ashes around him like he had dusted it with his Quirk himself. The summer months outside hadn’t been awful, but he had been forced from his favorite hiding spots once the weather turned colder.

These days, he spent the majority of his waking hours holed up in various arcades; lifting near empty play cards from unminded purses and pockets and taking hits from unstubbed cigarettes he pulled from the ashtrays to keep his hunger at bay. Whatever prizes he managed to win he would deliver to Toga during their brief meetups; small things like cell phone straps and plush animals that meant nothing to him, but that she would cradle to her chest with a delighted squeal like they were precious treasures.

When the League had split, Twice had tearfully supplied them all with maps of the areas he was familiar with. They were bizarre, scrawling things, folded up like origami cranes and written in a mix of precise pencil notes and wild glitter pen scribblings. The maps turned out to be just as useful as they were visually abrasive, though. He’d taken the time to write out common Hero patrol schedules, potential hide outs, the stores that sold the cheapest burner phones, and places to grab free meals. That was what brought him into the soup kitchen that first day.

He hadn’t been expecting a lot, because little was all he seemed to be capable of receiving these days. Little food, little sleep, little peace, little comfort. But he definitely hadn’t been expecting you.

You threw Tomura through a loop like you pitched for the Major Leagues; with a devastating and seemingly effortless force that left him awestruck and barely holding onto the metaphorical bat.

There had been plenty of women before. They were always there, buzzing about the fringes of wherever people of power congregated. But interactions with them were simply transactional, trading calculated touches and honeyed words for money or influence; things Tomura was awash in for years and freely utilized to sate his desires.

So flirting was a bit of a new experience for him.

He didn’t know what to do when you smiled at him; guileless and simply pleased by his presence. When you flirted with him it was out of some misguided, but sincere, desire to be closer to him. There was no angling for his money because there was no longer any money to be had. The mere idea that you found him somehow valuable and worthy of your attention was as flattering as it was bewildering and left Tomura floundering more often than not.

Tomura didn’t understand your interest. He’d seen himself in the mirror and held no illusions about his appeal. He was pale and lanky; crusty and scarred. He’d seen his partners hide grimaces when his shirt came off, their fingers giving his flaking skin a wide berth as they hesitantly set a course across his back and shoulders.

And as distasteful as his body was, Tomura knew his personality wasn’t much better.

There wasn’t a single thing about himself that should draw your attention. But he still desperately, recklessly, wanted it just the same.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered, dropping his head forward to thump against the window of the pachinko machine he was seated at, the wild pinging of the steel balls synchronizing distressingly well with the frantic beating of his heart.

You had been pulling on your regulation hair net when a flier on the bulletin board in the volunteer lounge caught your eye.

“Oh, no,” you moaned miserably. “We have a Hero Day coming up?”

Various groans of confirmation came from the other volunteers, each sounding as excited at the prospect as you were.

“Who is it this time?”

“Mt. Lady and Uwabami. They got into a spat at some televised fundraiser so their PR teams are shoving them together here to kiss and make nice for the cameras,” Kiyomi explained as she slipped the strap of a plastic apron over your head.

“Great. Just great,” you sneered as you hip checked the door open and made your way to the dining room.

“So, is today finally the day?”

“Is today the day for what? ” Tenko asked, waiting impatiently for you and Kiyomi to finish serving his tempura.

“Resolving this obvious tension between us by going out on a date together?”

Tenko narrowed his eyes, an inscrutable look on his face. “And where exactly would I take you to? A different soup kitchen?”

“Nah, this one’s pretty nice, don’t you think?”

Tenko sent a brief look off to the right, where a wet mop was propped up in the corner near the section of floor missing a large chunk of linoleum. “Nice. Sure. ”

“Well, nice enough for a first date at least.”

“If this place is first date worthy I can’t imagine what sort of place you’d consider for a second one.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t you?” you replied with a wink.

“I guess I will,” Tenko said as he slid his tray down the line before looking back over his shoulder. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

Eyes wide, you spin around to face Kiyomi who’s silently mouthing the word ‘Go’ while shooing you away with frantic hands. Tugging off your gloves and hair net, you dashed out from behind the counter, skidding behind the last patron in line who called out as you passed:

“Get it, girly!” he cackled as you made a brief detour to dump your used sanitary into a trash can.

"I'm working on it, old man!" You hollered back, sliding into the chair opposite of Tenko while the other occupants of the table scrunched their chairs and trays towards the far end of the table to give you two some semblance of privacy.

"Hero Day?" Tenko sneered down at the flier on his tray that was advertising the fast approaching special event.

"Yeah," you sighed. "It gets really busy here on Hero Days, so we like to give the regulars a heads up. The Hero agencies usually donate larger quantities of better quality food, so the bigger meals draw in folks who would normally hit up other soup kitchens."

"So they bribe desperate people with food to act as props for their social media campaigns?"

"Yep," you agreed as you passed Tenko his plate, which he slammed down over the faces of Uwabami and Mt. Lady grinning up at him from his tray.

"Disgusting, " he spat as he stormed away to his usual seat.

The force of everyone's collective will power wasn't enough to stop Hero Day from arriving at the soup kitchen. The entire crew of volunteers had arrived unreasonably early that morning to clean the facility from top to bottom in preparation for the arrival of Mt. Lady, Uwabami, and the veritable fleet of sidekicks and photographers they would both bring. Once the janitorial work was completed and the entire front room smelled overwhelmingly of bleach, everyone migrated back into the kitchen and began assembling and bagging up sandwiches to be handed out to the scores of hungry folks who would be drawn to the large event but unable to make it inside before the line cuts off and the doors close.

You were stacking large boxes of finished sandwiches against the back wall when one of the volunteers, a middle-aged man with a bat mutation, paused in his work of spreading mayonnaise across slices of wheat bread when his ears twitched.

“They’ve arrived,” he warned quietly as he resumed his work. “And they don’t sound particularly happy.”

Kiyomi snorted. “What else is new?”

Another ear twitch. “Oh. Now they’re arguing with the Program Director. Things are getting heated. Someone should go up there and back her up.”

Everyone was quiet at the idea of having to go toe-to-toe with two Heroes and their sycophantic entourages.

“Not it!” Kiyomi called out, thrusting her hand into the air. The rest of the volunteers quickly followed, tossing their hands into the air to opt out. You had been halfway across the room, carrying a large box of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that prevented you from raising your hand.

“Real mature tactic there, everyone,” you snapped irritably as you set the box down and made your way to the door.

“Have fun!” Kiyomi said cheerily as she waved. You stuck your middle finger up in return and made your way up the hall to the dining room.

The scene you arrived at was chaotic.

Your Program Director, a usually sweet and accommodating woman, was red in the face and absolutely screaming at a sharply dressed man in an ash gray suit. Mt. Lady and Uwabami were seated as far from each other as physically possible in the moderate sized room, shooting icy glares at each other while their makeup teams toiled to get them camera ready. The tables in the dining room were already half full despite it being a couple of hours before you were set to open; the seats occupied by people in ill-fitting clothes with dirt smeared artfully across their faces while they passed the time tapping on the screens of expensive, top of the line phones. You hurry to your Director’s side, making excuses to the man in the suit and guiding her away from the altercation with a firm hand on her elbow.

Her eyes begin to water as her adrenaline crashes, and you grab a handful of scratchy napkins from a dispenser for her to dry her face with as she sobs.

“What’s going on here,” you ask gently, rubbing soothing circles on her bicep.

“Mt. Lady was worried about how the PR photos would turn out so she decided to hire some extras to pose for pictures with her,” she sniffed, dabbing at her face with shaking fists.

“ Some extras? We’re already at half capacity with all these people here!”

“I know .”

“And she’s just going to give away food to people she’s paying who can already afford to eat? While actually hungry people line up outside?”

The Director nodded miserably while you scrubbed a hand down your face, furious.

“I fucking hate Hero Day.”

There wasn’t a force on Earth that would force Tomura into the soup kitchen on the day when it would be swarming with Heroes and their worshippers, but his stomach was still making a strong case for itself despite his iron-clad will. Being able to obtain regular meals made missing one even harder because the gnawing hunger tearing through his gut was an unfamiliar pain that demanded his full attention. One hand held a nearly empty can of coffee, all he could afford with change he found on the ground today, while his other hand was buried deep in his coat pocket, systematically bending each of Father’s fingers into a fist before carefully straightening them out again and setting about to bend them once more.

He continued fiddling with his macabre fidget toy as he watched tiny snowflakes drift past the covered bus stop he was currently tucked away in; the plexiglass walls doing nothing to trap in heat but they did stop the blustery wind from chilling him down to the bone. A soft knock next to his head drew his attention away from the falling flurries as he quickly spun to investigate the sound; finding you standing outside of the bus shelter, waving gently.

Snowflakes had settled onto your eyelashes and they glittered fetchingly under the sickly yellow glow from the streetlight overhead.

"Mind if I join?" Your voice was muffled and distant through the plexiglass, but Tomura heard you clearly enough. He nodded his assent and you beamed at him, quickly jogging to the entrance while pulling a large shopping trolley behind you.

"Brr!" You exclaim as you settle next to him, closer than he should have allowed but still not as close as he wanted. The trolley was situated in front of you both, and your thigh ended up brushing against Tomura's when you leaned forward to root through it. He inhaled sharply at the innocent contact, his skin tingling with something other than chills where you pressed up against him.

"Are you hungry? I've been making the rounds with sandwiches and fruit and have some leftovers. I've got ham and swiss or turkey and cheddar."

"Whatever's fine," Tomura said as you passed him a sandwich and an oblong apple that he immediately pulled down his mask to take a bite of. It was mealy and so cold it caused his teeth to ache, but he polished it off in record time and dropped the remaining core into the plastic bag he extracted the sandwich from.

He examined you from under his lashes, tugging down his hood to obscure his face as you did a quick tally of the remaining supplies in your trolley.

"You're not at the soup kitchen today?"

"Nope. Not my usual shift anyway. I go in and help prep for the Hero Day visits, but me and the other volunteers leave early when the camera crews roll in. We split up and pass out food on the streets instead."

"Didn't want to stick around for some autographs?"

"Hardly," you snorted inelegantly, tugging your gloves further down onto your fingers. "We can't pass up on the donations the Hero Agencies offer up, but I refuse to participate in their meaningless virtue signaling. If they actually wanted to help out they would just volunteer normally like the rest of us," you sniff in irritation, grinding a scratched off lottery ticket under the heel of your boot.

"But instead they roll in with a cavalcade of reporters, serve up a couple of meals, and then wait for people on social media to tell them how thoughtful and good they are for putting on a show. It's like a fireman showing up to a house fire, spitting on the flames, and then having people applaud them while the house is still burning."

"Like, Heroes have the money and the influence to actually help people, to really make a difference. But instead they just waste their resources on meaningless stuff and- ugh, I don't know. I guess I'm just frustrated because I can't imagine a scenario where I would prioritize acquiring fake internet points over providing a living, breathing person with a meal."

Sighing in frustration, you cross your arms and lean against the wall, your head tilted back to observe the falling snow like Tomura had been doing when you arrived.

"Think we'd be better off without them?" Tomura asked, peeling off a section of bread crust and popped it into his mouth.

"Hmm? Without who?"

"Heroes. Do you think they're necessary?"

You're quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Obviously weighing your words carefully before replying.

"It's hard to say, I suppose,” you begin hesitantly. “This is the way the world's been the entire time I've been alive; so I don't have anything to really compare it to. But I believe that things could be- should be , better than they are now. I want there to be change, but I don't know what the best course of action for that sort of thing would be."

Tomura hummed, a sound of acknowledgement if not agreement, as he finished off his sandwich and pulled his mask back into place. His meager disguise once again in place, Tomura leaned his head back and joined you in watching the snow flutter to the ground. The small flurries had all but disappeared and were replaced by fat, puffy flakes; dramatic bits of fluff that stayed airborne for longer than seemed possible before they settled delicately onto the ground.

"I really love night time snow. It's so romantic, don't you think?"

"Can't say I've ever given it much thought," Tomura said, attempting to keep his voice level and casual and you slowly and cautiously slid towards him on the bench, the distance between you narrowing at a glacial pace that had Tomura nearly writhing in anticipation. You came to a stop achingly close to Tomura, the remaining gap an open invitation for him to reach out, to touch, to accept whatever beautiful and intangible thing you were offering up to him.

If Tomura were a good man, someone with a noble heart or a modicum of self-restraint, he would have tried to resist the temptation echoing in that sliver of space between you. But he was, at his core, selfish and greedy; traits that had only been compounded by the past few months of hardship. With so few things to his name, what he did possess became infinitely more precious and jealously guarded. And here you were, entirely of your own volition, offering to become one of his rare possessions; to lay down willingly in his hoard- a priceless jewel amongst common trinkets for him to admire.

The back of Tomura’s hand made contact with you first, gently skirting up the outside of your thigh. You gasp, a sudden, breathy sound that sends a large cloud of condensation exploding into the air in front of your face as his hand continues its journey up the side of your body. When his hand reaches your shoulder he carefully extends two fingers and sends them walking over your shoulders, a measured, unhurried march as they make their way across your back. Once his arm is fully behind you he extends his thumb and wraps your bicep in a three fingered grip and pulls you towards him, the distance between your bodies erased as the grooves and divots of your bodies mold and settle into one and other.

“Oh, Tenko,” you breathe, nuzzling into the cradle of his shoulder. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Of course,” Tomura says as he runs an index finger across the swell of your cheek, smirking as you lean into his touch. “I’m not planning to let you go.”

Tenko had slid in through the soup kitchen doors a few minutes prior and you couldn't help the feeling of exhilaration that roiled in your belly and bubbled up your sternum as he drew closer to you in line. The shift in your relationship was a recent and exciting novelty. Every interaction was littered with relationship firsts; delicate threads of moments that would weave into precious memories you bundled your heart into to keep it warm in Tenko's absence.

He was next in line, paused before Kiyomi as she placed a nearly expired rice ball donated from a local convenience store on his plate.

"You sure you want onigiri tonight?" Kiyomi asked, grinning fiendishly at Tenko as she added a couple of pickled plums next to the rice ball.

"Are there any other options?"

"Well, you do have the option of this hot dish right here!" Kiyomi cackles as she elbows you roughly in the side, sending you stumbling out of place. You grumble, rubbing at the impact point with your forearm so you wouldn't have to change your gloves.

"I hope that you aren't offering her up to everyone in line," Tenko warned, his gaze steely as he narrowed his eyes at Kiyomi. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head rapidly from side to side.

"No! Of course not!"

"Good," Tenko said as he reached out for the plate you were holding out to him, running two fingers softly across the exposed band of skin above your glove, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

"I've never been one for sharing."

Ever since that night at the bus stop Tenko had been staying late with you at the soup kitchen, awkwardly holding a mop in a pincer grip as he unenthusiastically pushed it around the edges of the room while you and the other volunteers closed up shop. Once the doors were locked and you’d waved good-bye to your fellow workers, you and Tenko would set out into the city together. On days when you had a lot of homework or a looming exam he would escort you to the train station, both of you shortening your gaits to draw out the precious few minutes of time you could spend together. But when your schedule was more flexible you would wander around aimlessly; examining the garish holiday displays set up in store windows or settling on a park bench for extended bouts of people watching.

Today found you both wandering through a pop-up market, weaving through crowds of harried shoppers and visibly distressed men trying to point their girlfriends and wives to vendors hawking less expensive potential Christmas gifts. You were comparing the prints of a few different scarves when you noticed the first flurry drift through your line of sight. With an excited squeal, you turned to find Tenko, sliding your arms around his waist and bouncing happily on the balls of your feet.

“It’s starting to snow again!”

“So it is,” Tenko said, a smile present in the timbre of voice. Tilting your head back to gaze up into the inky sky, you sighed happily as the tiny flakes multiplied and spun around in dizzying patterns above you.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked snowy nights,” Tenko said, observing your dreamy smile with soft eyes.

“Yeah. It’s as close as us city dwellers can really get to seeing a sky full of stars. When I was a kid I would pretend that all the snowflakes in the sky were shooting stars, each of them racing as fast as they could to grant my wishes,” you admit bashfully, slightly embarrassed by your past whimsey.

Tenko hummed thoughtfully as he gazed at the icy flakes darting through the sky.

“They’re going to need to go faster than that if they want to beat me,” he said, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck. “Because there isn’t anything in this universe that wants to grant your wishes more than I do.”

“Is that so?” you giggle as Tenko buries his face under your coat collar, his chilly cheeks and warm puffs of air making your skin break out into delighted tingles.

“Yes ,” Tenko sighed against your skin, mask bunched up over his nose as he layered kisses across your collarbone.

“Well, that’s pretty convenient since all I find myself wishing for these days is you.”

“You should wish for something better.”

“I don’t think there is anything better,” you say as you comb your fingers through the loose strands of hair falling across Tenko’s forehead. “Not for me, anyway.”

Tenko’s arms tightened around your waist to an almost painful degree, like he was trying to pull you through his layers of flesh and sinew and into his chest; tucking you tightly into the space beside his heart, caged safely behind his ribs.

And you were happy to let him try.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #tomura x you #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x female reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #pigeoncoos🕊

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use-your-telescope · 6 months

Text

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 5: I'm Looking for a Sign

Summary: Theo begins the onboarding process for becoming an Avenger, and finds some time to sneak away.

Author's Notes: Sorry this is so late in the day! It has been a hectic weekend. This chapter (and the next) really focus on Theo, so there isn't much Loki... but he will be back soon!

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3 Also, feel free to send me a message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Next chapter should be coming November 12th!

Content Warnings: Canon-typical fighting (there's a training session).

Word Count: 5,525

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Good to Be Alive - PVRIS

Learning how to swim but the lands are dry Feeling like a shark, If I stop I'll die Things are lit and the blood's on fire Underneath the buzz of the telephone wire All my friends are doing fine While I’m looking for a sign Is this body even mine? Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

Onboarding with the Avengers was akin to drinking from a firehose.

Every waking moment was full - between orientation at the SHIELD Hospital, procedural trainings, mission briefings, and combat simulations, Theo hardly had a moment to breathe, much less think.

Either way, Theo had no interest in showing that the rapid pace was throwing her off her game. Instead, she bit her tongue and kept her wits about her, vigilant for even the slightest indication that something was amiss. Theo wouldn’t speak unless spoken to, and if spoken to she gave the impression of polite compliance - now that she was in the thick of things, stirring the pot would only make it harder to get this over with.

However, there was one element which she protested… Despite her insistence otherwise, part of Theo’s onboarding required being equipped with new armor.

She hadn’t needed armor before, so it seemed silly. If anything, she needed clothes that let her move freely and without detection. However, Fury insisted that Theo needed additional protection in the event that her magic wasn’t enough. The result was Theo, standing in Tony Stark’s lab, regretting every decision that led her to that moment as the overly smug engineer combed over her appearance with a shit eating grin.

“So, Rapunzel-” Tony leaned back against a table in his lab, crossing his arms. “I hear you need some armor.”

“That depends on who you ask.” Theo’s eyes scanned the room as she crossed her arms, leaning her weight on one foot. “Fury sure thinks so. I’m not convinced.”

It seemed like a standard engineering lab. A mixture of concrete, steel, and glass surrounded them, while harsh lights glared down from above. Scattered around the lab were more computers and machines than anyone knew what to do with, and various employees mulling about as they worked on assorted tasks. One person sautered metal, while another ran tests on what Theo could only assume was the newest rendition of Tony’s infamous suit. Clattering keys, clanking metal, and multiple beeps echoed throughout the sterile space. A metallic smell, tinged with chemicals and burning filled the air.

“Well, that’s where I come in.” Tony winked, picking up some kind of glass tablet and waving it at her. “If you ask nicely, I might even let you customize it.”

Theo rolled her eyes. “Asking you nicely sounds like too much work.”

“Don’t listen to him.” A woman appeared from around the corner, walking up to the pair with a swagger and a blinding smile that contrasted her umber skin. Her braided hair was twisted up into space buns, which combined with her brightly colored outfit made it painfully obvious just who Theo was speaking to. “I’ll make you better armor, and I’ll let you add whatever features you want without having to ask.”

Shuri Udaku, the princess of Wakanda.

For the first time that Theo could remember, she was, officially, starstruck.

“We haven’t officially met…” Theo offered a wry smile and nod to the princess, doing her best to keep her cool.

“I’m Shuri, princess of Wakanda and head of the Wakandan Design Group.” She stuck a hand out to shake, smiling brightly with just a hint of something amusing in her eyes. “Colonizing gave him a big ego, but what he would make is nothing compared to what I can make you.”

Theo couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled out of her from the dig at Tony.

“Oh, I like you. I’m Theo.” She took Shuri’s hand, offering a firm shake while praying her hands weren’t too sweaty.

Tony pouted, giving Shuri a dirty look; Shuri smirked at him.

“So what does this armor making process entail?” Theo glanced between the pair, waiting for further instruction.

“First, we’ll have you spar with one of our guys; get a sense for your style. From there, we’ll draw up a base set. You’ll give it a trial run, push the boundaries so we can see what works and what needs adjusting.” Tony explained, watching Theo as she continued observing her surroundings. “Then, we’ll make a final version.”

“Okay…” Given Shuri’s comments on building better armor, Theo suspected Shuri wasn’t her partner. Then again, it didn’t look like anyone there was ready to practice fighting - certainly none of the lab staff, who all but ignored Theo’s presence. Maybe she would be fighting Tony or one of his robots?

“Okay what?” Tony tapped on the tablet a few times.

“Am I sparring now?” Theo raised her eyebrows at him expectantly as she shrugged, glancing around the room. “I don’t see anyone who looks like they’re ready to fight, much less a space to fight in. Unless you want me to break your equipment, which is probably pretty expensive… Then again, you’re the Avengers’ Sugar Daddy. It’s probably pocket change for you to replace these.”

Shuri snorted at Theo’s comment.

“You’re not fighting here.” Tony rolled his eyes, pressing away from the table and gesturing for Theo to follow. “We have a training lab. Your partner will meet you there.”

That explained why she was told to come to the lab in clothes she could exercise in. Theo trailed behind, almost having to jog in order to keep up with Tony. “Who am I sparring against?”

Tony stopped in front of a door, pressing some sort of code into a keypad on the wall. The door hissed as it slid open, revealing none other than Captain America himself.

Oh shit.

Steve smiled, waving to the trio as they entered. Theo, on the other hand, froze in place, her stomach dropping into her feet. Couldn’t they have picked someone with magic, at least?

“He’ll go easy on you to start.” Tony winked, turning to lead them into another room.

Theo’s face must have betrayed her reaction - this was not going to go well, but not for the reason Tony Stark thought.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Theo gulped, eyes darting between the others.

“We’ll start simple.” Steve reassured her, following along with the group.

Fury must have held back on explaining Theo’s abilities if he was so calm about their impending duel.

The room that Tony brought them to was empty, save for a collection of cameras around the room and a table filled with sheets of stickers, each no larger than a pea. Mats covered the floor, presumably so that anyone who went down fighting was less likely to be hurt.

Cute, but a few mats weren’t going to be much help when it came to fighting a mage.

“So, how this works: the cameras will track your motion.” After gesturing to cameras around the room, Tony held up a sheet of stickers. ”These will be stuck to you so we can get a sense of your movements. You fight, then we use the data to design your gear.”

The thought of sensors stuck all over her body made her cringe. Of the many roles she expected to fill, lab rat was not one of them.

Fury fucking owed her for this.

“Oh joy...” Theo sighed, resigning herself to her fate. “Fine, let’s do this.”

Shuri brushed past Tony, grabbing the sensors. “I will handle this - I have just the touch.” She smirked at Theo. As she began to place the sensors, she leaned into Theo and whispered, “Kick his ass - I can fix broken white boys.”

Yes, Shuri was her kind of person.

Theo snickered, but held still so Shuri could continue placing sensors. Shuri made quick work of the task, her touch gentle but firm as she secured each device to Theo’s skin.

Once all the sensors were in place, they were ready to begin.

“In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve never ‘just sparred’ before.” Theo spoke up, circling around Steve.

She absolutely had sparred before - hundreds of times. But this way, if she accidentally went too far, she had an excuse. Besides, Steve didn’t have magic, and only fought with a shield.

Really, this was not a fair fight.

“I’m durable, don’t worry.” Steve offered a charming smile. “I can do this all day.”

Theo shook her head, gesturing with one hand to conjure her weapon. Runes slid down her arm, twisting around each other in the air until a blade of shadow appeared in her hand. “I’ve dulled my weapon so it’s not going to slice you open, at least.”

“Awfully kind,” Steve winked, lowering himself into a ready stance. “Ladies first.”

Well, here goes nothing.

Theo took a deep breath, stepping forward and offering the first swing.

Steve leapt back, darting forward to attempt a blow of his own.

Theo nimbly jumped to the side, swinging her blade down and landing clean on Steve’s back.

As Steve was knocked to the ground he spun around, attempting to kick out Theo’s feet from beneath her.

Theo leapt over his kick, pressing forward to a somersault in time to pop up and block a punch, taking another swing with her blade.

The two fell into a rhythm of trading blows. Steve certainly had his merits as a fighter - if they were in hand-to-hand combat, he easily could have kicked her ass. But this wasn’t hand to hand combat - Theo had her weapon to give her some distance, and if nothing else she was damn good at dodging anything and everything that attempted to hurt or kill her.

If this was all that was involved, she could do this all day… Well, as long as her lungs held up okay.

“Are you going to use any of your magic?” Steve grunted, dodging a blow from Theo as he kicked at her.

“I try to only use it against other magic users.” Theo replied, bringing her blade down to block the kick.

As if he took Theo’s response as a challenge, Steve picked up the pace. Still, Theo had yet to break a sweat. What she lacked in brute strength, she more than made up for in endurance and agility.

The sensation of being watched by someone new led Theo to do a scan of her surroundings as she blocked a punch from Steve.

Her instinct was spot on - not just one person, but three new people. Maybe it was a bit of ego, or a flair for the dramatic, but if there was a larger audience… Well, Theo could show off a little bit and it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“It seems we have an audience…” Theo commented, tumbling backwards before teleporting behind Steve and hitting him from behind.

“I thought you didn’t use magic against non-magic users.” Steve coughed, then spun around to find her smirking at him.

Steve threw a punch, only to have it go right through her - it was an illusion. He frantically scanned the room again to find Theo leaning up against the wall, arms crossed as she dangled her sword from her right hand.

“Well, we have an audience.” She repeated with a wry shrug, pointing to the new arrivals with her blade. “Can’t let the new girl disappoint.”

Standing in the entrance, Wanda, Bucky, and Loki watched the two spar. Wanda appeared to be amused by the interaction; Bucky was laughing at Steve, and Loki…

Well, Theo wasn’t sure if he was amused, unimpressed, or bored.

“Alright, so this should get interesting now, right?” Steve turned to face Theo again, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.

“Perhaps.” Theo kept a straight face as she pushed off the wall, preparing for Steve’s next move.

“Theo, remember what I said – I can fix broken white boys!” Shuri jeered.

A smirk flickered across Theo’s lips.

Bucky doubled over, howling with laughter as Steve let out a huff.

As long as she stuck to the celestial magic, she’d be fine.

Steve rushed towards her.

Adrenaline rushed through Theo’s veins. It had been a while since she’d really had a chance to show what she could do; the prospect of flexing her skills felt almost liberating.

No, she needed to keep it under wraps.

Singing under her breath, a wisp of white shot through her sword. Once Theo stopped, the melody continued to reverberate from the blade, haunting yet almost impossible to hear.

Steve launched forward to throw a blow, but Theo was too quick - she spun and took him down from behind with the hilt of the sword.

“Is your sword singing?”

“Magicians don’t reveal their secrets,” Theo winked. She jumped back, curling her fingers to gesture for Steve to come get her.

Steve rushed forward, only to find himself shocked with cosmic energy. What the-?” He froze mid-motion, dropping to the ground. “

Shit.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?” Theo dryly inquired, cocking her head to the side.

That was too strong.

“Well, it wasn’t pleasant…” Steve shook his head, staggering briefly before he returned to his feet. “It’s fine - I can do this all day.”

Yeah, that was stronger than it should have been. But why?

“Sorry, I’ll try to temper it a bit,” Theo apologized, while praying it wasn’t obvious that she used more than she intended.

“Don’t go easy on me.” Regaining his composure, Steve resumed charging at her and throwing blows. Theo took a more defensive approach, focusing solely on dodging blows instead of doing damage while she tried to figure out what made her spell so potent.

“Not to be weird, but what phase is the moon in right now?” Theo tried to make the question as casual as possible, hoping it would come off as small talk and nothing more.

“Don’t tell me you do that horoscope shit.” Tony groaned from the sideline.

“There’s nothing wrong with horoscopes, grandpa.” Theo feigned offense, but she was grateful for Tony’s ignorance as to why she might ask the question. “Besides, Astrology is more real than the stock market.”

Shuri snorted.

“It’s a new moon tonight,” Wanda answered. Theo glanced over to catch the Scarlet Witch staring at her phone, lips pursed as she studied whatever was on the screen.

Well, that explained the magic surge.

“Good to know.” Theo kept a casual tone to her voice, rhythmically moving as she dodged and parried Steve’s attacks.

They sparred for another few minutes; Theo continued to stay away from offensive spells, but occasionally threw in an illusion or teleported so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Even if she wasn’t giving them the best data to build her gear with, she wasn’t going to pull out all the stops until it was actually necessary.

Besides, she didn’t really need the armor in the first place.

“Alright Rapunzel, I think we’ve got enough data to start.” Tony announced, tapping the screen of his tablet with a flourish..

Steve dropped his offensive stance, straightening up while he caught his breath.

“Good match.” The friendly smile Steve flashed indicated that he didn’t seem too upset about being shocked.

“Likewise.” Theo returned the nod as her shadow blade vanished.

All in all, it wasn’t the most intense workout she’d ever had, but she did get a bit sweaty and was a little out of breath. Maybe Steve was stronger than she gave him credit for. After all, he was a super soldier.

Then again, she assumed that fighting a super soldier would require enough exertion to make her asthma flare up; given she was still breathing alright, perhaps he also went easy on her.

Whatever - she wasn’t going to dwell on the subject.

Shuri returned to help remove the sensors.

“You held back on him.” She raised an eyebrow at Theo, sending the sorceress a pointed glance before stepping behind Theo to remove the sensors on her back.

Unsure of how else to respond, Theo simply shrugged. “I don’t need to add to my body count.”

Shuri sighed, skepticism written on her features as she leaned around Theo to set the sensors on the table. Perhaps the princess had a better sense of Theo’s powers than she let on. “I told you, I can fix broken white boys.”

Yeah, but she couldn’t fix a pile of dust.

“I don’t think killing Captain America would be a good way to start my tenure as an Avenger…” Theo raised a challenging brow.

Shuri laughed; apparently she thought it was a joke. Theo offered a thin smile.

“One of these days I will get you down here and test you without limits so I can design you the ultimate armor.” Shuri chided, though she still smiled at the newcomer.

Theo offered a curt nod. “Maybe.”

Shuri’s expression told Theo that she took the answer as a challenge.

At the sensation of a bead of sweat trickling down her temple, Theo grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it up to dry her skin. As she dropped the fabric, she caught Loki studying her. A sense of curiosity peeked through his piercing gaze, cool green eyes glinting beneath the lights.

Theo wondered what ran through his mind. Was he trying to figure out if she was actually a threat? Or was he more focused on where she came from?

Once the sensors were off, Theo started towards the door. She had no interest in socializing, plus she wanted nothing more than to shower and wash the sticky, gritty sweat off her skin.

“Hey Theo, we’re about to head to dinner - do you want to come?”

Enthusiasm colored Wanda’s voice; when Theo turned to face the witch she found Wanda smiling hesitantly, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m going to pass,” Theo feigned an interest in the invite, even as she turned it down. “I’m still getting settled in and all.”

A pang of guilt shot up in Theo at the sight of Wanda’s falling face. She could empathize with the pain of rejection; there were countless times when Theo was a little girl when she asked Rae to play with her, but Rae would decline because she was busy with lessons and far too old to play games. Back then, Theo was too small to understand why, but she could still feel how her chest would twist from being turned down.

This, however, was different. Between the appearances at her show, the game, and the invites to hang out, it was obvious that Wanda had ulterior motives. After all, Theo was there when Fury told the Avengers that their mission was to get Theo to stay - and what better way to rope her in than to try and be her friend?

Rather than dwell on the matter, she offered a small wave and hurried out of the lab.

This could not be over fast enough.

Lost big dreams that I really don't need Everything I love is gonna find a way to leave Got good friends that I never can see Always on the run while my plans are free I been staying up all night Shaking needles out my spine But the doctor says I'm fine Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

Living on-site was a non-negotiable of the deal (much to Theo’s dismay), but she had to admit it was convenient - she never had to worry about shit going down on the subway when her workplace was an elevator ride away.

Regardless of where she actually lived, there was one thing she needed to do before anything else: set up a portal to her Mémère’s house. The ritual of creating one long-term portal was tedious, but once set up the long-term portal’s convenience far outweighed the nuisance. Theo visited the family’s matriarch often enough that having a travel method faster than public transit was a necessity, especially with the distance between them. After all, it wasn’t like she had the time to fly back and forth between northern Michigan and New York every weekend.

Creating the portal wasn’t hard; the big challenge was figuring out where to put it. She didn’t want it in her bedroom, since Mémère and Max occasionally used the portals she set up to come visit and the last thing she needed was for them to walk in on her in any number of compromising positions. However, she didn’t want to set it in a location where people would question why she had a misty oval in her wall. After an unnecessary amount of debate, she opted to place it along one of the walls in her main room and take advantage of some well-placed curtains to hide the addition.

With the portal in place, it was time for a field trip.

The crisp air of northern Michigan was a far cry from New York’s heavy, thick skies. It was easier to breathe - not just because there was a lot less pollution, which was notable for someone like Theo, whose lungs were sensitive to smog - but because the nearly silent, still world around her made it easier for the tension to melt from her shoulders and to relax with each inhale and exhale. Michigan was the opposite of New York City, a constantly bustling metropolis where it was all too easy to get lost in the shuffle.

Theo stepped through the portal to find herself in her grandmother’s equipment shed. That was intentional - no one would think to look there for a portal. Weaving between the farm equipment, she pushed the worn wooden door open and stepped outside.

Around her, the evergreens that towered above swayed in the breeze, wind whispering through the branches. In front of her stood the farmhouse, with white weathered siding, wide windows, and a wraparound porch that Theo had spent countless nights sitting on. To her left, a worn path led from the porch down to a small beach with a dock, while the waves of Lake Superior lapped up on the shore. She didn’t have to look behind her to know an old, worn out barn stood in its same place, though it had been years since any animals were kept inside.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted two vehicles parked along the dirt drive - a red pickup truck and a green subaru outback.

Max must have been visiting.

Theo crossed the distance and ascended onto the porch, approached the front door, gripped the worn brass door knob and turned the handle, pushing her way inside.

“Hello?” Poking her head inside, Theo glanced around the living room to find it empty. She stepped inside, closed the door, and toed off her shoes. The sound of clattering dishes echoed from the kitchen, while two voices floated above in animated conversation.

“Ah, my bichette!” A raspy voice called out, followed by the shuffling of feet. Just before Theo reached the hallway, a petite elderly woman appeared.

Mémère had seen more than her fair share of life in her many years on Earth, and it showed. Her tan, papery skin held deep wrinkles and age spots dotted themselves across her cheeks and forehead. In the almost fifteen years since Theo had left for college, the matriarch of the Durand family had aged considerably - every time Theo saw her, she swore that Mémère shrunk another inch. Mémère moved considerably slower than in the past, undoubtedly her advanced age catching up to her. Still, she had a bright spark in her amber eyes and a sharp wit that could not be deterred.

“Hi Mémère,” Theo greeted, embracing her grandmother. Though it had only been a week or so since they’d last been together, it seemed like the elderly woman’s bones were even more prominent, jutting into Theo’s flesh as they hugged. “I saw Max’s car outside - is he here too?”

“Of course I am.” Max appeared over Mémère’s shoulder, arching an eyebrow at his older cousin. “One of us has to keep things in order while you’re off playing superhero.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like–”

“Now now, I do not need you two squabbling to take up my Saturday,” Mémère said, pointedly glaring at the cousins before gesturing for everyone to enter the kitchen. “You both are doing wonderful things, and I’m happy to have you both home. I’ll put some coffee on and we can all catch up. Leenie, have you had lunch? I don’t have many options at the moment, but I can make sandwiches.”

“You’re not going to ask if I’ve had lunch?” Max scoffed, to which Mémère rolled her eyes.

“My caneton, you’ve been here all morning. I know you haven’t had lunch.”

“Sandwich sounds lovely.” Theo answered, trying not to laugh at Max’s feigned offense.

As they stepped into the kitchen, everything was familiar - the same butcher block countertops, the same painted cabinets. Holiday cards were stuck to the fridge with magnets, and a picture of Theo at her college graduation still hung on the door. Things were so much simpler then.

“So, tell us all about your first days as an Avenger - are you settling in? Have you made any friends?” Mémère gave her a knowing wink, making her way to grab sandwich meat and cheese from the fridge. Theo retrieved plates out of the cabinet, setting them on the counter.

Theo couldn’t stop herself from laughing at Mémère’s questions. “I’m not really there to make friends, Mémère.”

“No, but you have to live and work with them.” Even if she moved a bit slower than she did ten years ago, Mémère was still sharp enough to pick up on Theo’s unspoken hesitations. “You’d be smart to befriend them, or you may be miserable for the foreseeable future.”

Sure, Mémère was probably right, but Theo was not about to admit that aloud.

“How are you handling things out here?” Theo changed the subject. “The shed looks like it’s seen better days.”

“Oh, things are fine - Max comes by almost daily to help with things around the farm; he also helps with running errands and such.” Mémère waved a hand dismissively, while Max gave Theo a shit eating grin. “Father Tim - you remember him - he’s also around a lot to help with things.”

Surprisingly, Max did not interject with some snarky comment.

Theo nodded. “And you’ve been okay, health-wise?”

Mémère smiled, though Theo picked up a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I’m fine, bichette. Still kicking. Still here to tease you endlessly.”

Theo laughed softly, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine you doing anything else...”

A silence fell in the room as the final condiments were set out on the countertop.

“This is less fancy than the restaurants you probably go to in New York, but hopefully it still tastes good.” Mémère joked, gesturing to the spread of sandwich toppings. “I’ll let you build your own, so it’s just how you want.”

Theo laughed. “Just because I agreed to join the Avengers doesn’t mean I now scoff at a sandwich.”

While Theo and Max put their sandwiches together, Mémère made sure they each had a cup of coffee poured and at the table. Once the trio assembled their meals, they each took their regular chairs at the kitchen table.

“What have you done so far?”

“Nothing exciting, really.” Theo palmed the ceramic mug in front of her, eyes following the curls of steam as they floated upward. “A lot of onboarding crap. I was supposed to spar with Captain America and that was, uh, interesting. Next week I’m supposed to start doing interviews and shit, but I don’t really get why I’d waste my time with those when I have actual work to do.”

“Told you, playing superhero.” Max interjected, to which Theo scowled.

“I don’t think it’s a waste.” Mémère mused. “Now the world can learn of your gifts. You’ve spent far too long trying to conceal them.”

Mémère always thought the best of Theo, and that went for her magic as well. Despite disagreeing, Theo gave up on trying to convince her otherwise a long time ago.

“Are they gifts?” Theo pondered, studying the barn through the window panes. “There are a lot of people who think they’re curses.”

“They are what you choose to make them.” Mémère reminded her granddaughter. “You’ve chosen to make them gifts, to use them to help people.”

Theo nodded, though she didn’t entirely agree with Mémère’s assessment. She knew Max probably didn’t agree either. The council certainly didn’t.

“How’s work, Max?” Theo tried to change the subject.

“It’s fine.” Max paused to take a bite of his sandwich. “No complaints.”

“And Ellie, Katie? How are they?”

“Good. Katie’s daycare is now preparing her to start preschool.”

Theo nearly dropped her coffee cup at the news.

“Seriously? She’s a toddler.”

“She’s three, and she’s way ahead of her developmental milestones. The staff think it’s a good idea. Ellie agrees. She’s a pediatrician, so it’s her job to know that kind of stuff.” Max shrugged as if he was completely unaffected by the prospect of his child starting preschool.

“This is what happens when two doctors have a baby, I guess.” Theo muttered to herself.

Theo may have been the one in the Avengers, but Max was always the responsible and cautious one. It was pretty common for the council members to lament that Theo was the next in line - they claimed it was because she was a loose cannon and unpredictable; that wasn’t the real reason, but none of them would admit the truth to Theo or Mémère’s faces. Still, they weren’t wrong when they pointed out that Max was steadfast and rational. He naturally embodied the characteristics of a wise leader.

Maybe that’s why he was so pissy about her accepting the Avengers gig - until that point, Theo was the one living in Max’s shadow.

Mémère must have sensed the tension between cousins, because she took over the conversation from there. Even if things between Theo and Max were always tense, conversation with Mémère came easily. Beyond trying to catch up on what had happened in Michigan since Theo’s last visit, Mémère had plenty of her own questions about Theo’s transition to being an Avenger.

Even if they weren’t Theo’s favorite questions, she owed Mémère real answers.

Once they finished their sandwiches, Theo stood and collected the dirty plates, bringing them to the sink so she could wash them.

“How long are you visiting for?” Mémère asked, still sitting at the table.

“Just the afternoon - figured I’d use my first moment of free time since starting to see how things were here, plus grab some stuff to bring back with me.” Theo said, letting out a sigh. “I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving, so I imagine I don’t have long before they start looking for me. They’re kind of obsessive like that.”

“Well, you know where your room is - It’s always ready, whenever you need it. Feel free to head up whenever.”

Given Theo could hardly sneak away for an afternoon, she found it hard to imagine she’d need the bed anytime soon.

Setting the last plate on the drying rack, Theo made her way upstairs. Over all the years she had been here, the whole house had barely changed - same furniture, same photos, same faded wallpaper covering the walls. Her feet carried her down the hall, almost on autopilot as she made her way to her old bedroom. Standing in front of the entrance, Theo took a deep breath, turned the knob and opened the door.

Inside, the room was still a breath of fresh air - pale yellow walls, big windows with sheer curtains. A queen size bed with a patchwork quilt sat in one corner; one of Theo’s old guitars from when she was here before remained in another corner. Her old Van Gogh poster was still on the wall above her dresser.

Despite remaining exactly as she left it, there was no dust to be found - Mémère must have cleaned the room while she was gone.

She always kept the room ready in case Theo needed to come home.

Theo’s heart twisted at the thought. It was almost enough for her to say “fuck it” and stay – at least for one night. After all, it had been a long time since she actually visited for more than a day or two, and the Avengers needed her, not the other way around; she could make them wait.

However, her cell phone quickly reminded her that wasn’t an option.

“Anyone seen Rapunzel?” The Avengers group chat lit up.

Theo rolled her eyes, but replied anyway. “Visiting a friend. Be back later.”

Whether she wanted to or not, Theo knew - the show must go on.

So tied up and tired of this self-inflicted fight In spite of, I light up, to leave my demons I tell myself I'm fine while I'm looking for a sign Is this body even mine? Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

#loki #loki fanfiction #marvel loki #loki fluff #loki angst #loki smut #loki x oc #loki x ofc #wemtbb #when everything's made to be broken

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