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deanmiles13 · 8 months

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LEAVE THE DRIVING TO US…

A.K.A.

MEETING CRAIG WAGNER

Oh, to travel America and the open road. Especially when you’re not doing the driving.

I had done this particular trip before. On The Dog as they say.. The Greyhound bus.

It was the affordable way to travel for the dirtier denizens of our society. No half decent human being would EVER subject themselves to the punishment the dog can deal out. It could be considered a large, long trailer with seating on both sides and the shitter in the back. It reeked of whatever agent they used to mask the original odor in the first place. So imagine having to endure 3 plus days on this journey. AND you’re only 15 years old.

I would often be mistaken much older for my age and also for being in the military. I had a really close shaved haircut and traveled with all my belongings in a gunny sack. A green military bag for all their stuff, which I obtained at the army surplus. Which is where I also got my combat boots. So, I guess I can see how I was putting that vibe out.

But this was also the early 80’s and what T shirt you wore, spoke volumes about WHO you were.

That is what set me apart here. It was a fucking killer print I have never seen before or since of Suicidal Tendencies. Had the sleeves cut off and the sides split. And when I boarded the bus for a return trip BACK to Indiana, this was my calling card and it got the attention of two dudes as soon as I boarded in downtown Tucson. When the bus station was across from Hotel Congress. They also had a “calling card” that only certain people would know. This was more intense than just a shirt too. It was a tattoo. And not just any tattoo, but a MOTORHEAD tattoo.

The best band ever. It’s a know fact to any punk or metal head. It was this tattoo, that turned my head as I searched for an empty seat. Hopefully not too far from this lot…

The bus pulled out and immediately the older of the two came over grinning from ear to ear. He said “Hey.. My name is Craig. Where ya headed?” And he plopped down into the empty seat next to me. I told him “Indiana” and that was about it. I just though he was too cool to want to talk with me and that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

With the passing of time, details are lost, but he introduced me to his brother. We talked music and all that. I showed him my puny “X” tattoo. He didn’t laugh or anything and just said “Oh, I love them!”

There was a stop somewhere along the way I do recall, that we got off and had a little time. The three of us headed to a store and they ended up getting some peppermint schnapps. We snuck it back on the bus and all took turns knippin’ on it. The stories continued and they told me about being from Santa Rosa, CA. Tales of seeing all the good bands and then the bus stopped and they had to get off. It occurred, I never even asked where they were going.

I believe it was New Mexico… Craig leaned over to me and snuck the schnapps into my leather jacket inside pocket and handed me something. “You got a bit of a trip ahead of you and you might need this more than me.” It was some sorta sleeping pills. Nothing heavy… If I remember correctly!

This was a mighty generous offer and made me feel a little better about this hellish journey I was in for.

I had to go back to Indiana because It was the middle of summer when I moved to Tucson and It was too much for me. I begged my Great Grandmother, Hazel, for the bus fair. It was like a hundred bucks or something. I loved her so much. I could trust her with my secrets and know she passed no judgement. Just wanted me to be safe out there at 15 years old. I was tossed to Tucson when my Mom had enough of me fucking up her perfect new marriage. “SO… You wanna go meet your Dad?!?!” I jumped at the chance and left immediately after my sophomore year at Pike High School. Enduring the bus trip that time around, I knew exactly what I was in for this trip. Like my friend Abel said one time after taking the bus up to Portland to see me. “Dude, I swear, when you hit Ashland, the people on the bus are like in a G.G. Allin look a like contest. They smell like him too!”

So, I just popped the pills into my mouth and took the cap off the schnapps and guzzled.

Wake me up when I get there….

We’ll skip that part actually and just say, me going back to Indiana and thinking it was gonna work, was insane. I mean, I was 15! Come on… I wasn’t the brightest bulb yet.

I can only equate it to taking a caged animal at the zoo and setting it free for the first time. Then go and retrieve said animal and put it back in the cage. Not a good recipe. I hopped on the next Dog outta town and relished the trip and all the new people I would meet.

Hell… I slept through one stop and ended up in Oklahoma somehow and had to get on another bus going the way I need to go. That set me back another day or so, but what the fuck.

There really wasn’t anyone especially waiting for me.

The situation with Pops was one that had me running for the nearest exit and shacking up with anyone that would take me. Girlfriends, maybe their unsuspecting parents, schoolmates, girls I would take home. Oh wait, I mean, take me to their homes. You get the picture. I was scraping by. So much so that the girl I was with at this point was a beautiful girl who actually sought me out. Quite shocking, as it may have been the first REAL chance I had at really being with a woman. Not a girl…

We had ourselves this killer hole in the ground that we called home. And when I say hole in the ground, I mean A HOLE IN THE GROUND. It was under an adobe in Tucson. We “rented” the place from maybe someone we knew from school?!?! I’m not certain. The woman who lived there spoke little English and was old school Mexican. She cooked stuff for us and I think was happy to have us there. We were in fucking High School and there was actually another couple that we shared it with. Man… I went back there one time and had a chance to peek in the “basement” that we lived in and it was shocking. Even to me… I mean, just ask anyone from Tucson if they have a “basement” and you’ll get the picture.

We had a 7-11 near us that we frequented for many of the things we needed. The girls with their cigarettes and us with our beer. Well, we all smoked and drank, what am I talking about?

Anyway, to give this some more air and let the timeline shore up a little bit, I had started school at Cholla H.S. for a semester and then got over to Project MORE. It was an alternative school that had all sorts of kids trying to finish the time there. I’m gonna guess that it was at least 6 month to a year passed since I was on that initial bus trip home.

Being broke and having tons of time on our hands, we had those hands extended for spare change at the local 7-11 one afternoon. Nothing special was going down except the usual “Get a job!” And sexual advances on the girls… Then a motorcycle was pulling into the lot. I always checked out bikes and the make and model. What the person riding was wearing and everything. I grew up in it and longed for my own bike real soon.

This particular make was 70’s era B.M.W. the exact details lost to time, but the ONE detail I did notice on the rider was a Motorhead tattoo!!! Nice….

Wait!!!???!!! I remembered a guy who had a similar tattoo, but anyone could get that tattooed.

But his hair… It was spiky and not long and greasy. His face too… It was young at dare I say movie star like. It wasn’t some old grey beard! This was all a little too close to coincidence, so I followed behind. I let him do his thing and I believe he grabbed some beer. He was making his way to exit and I looked him straight on and asked “Is your name Craig?”

He kind of looked surprised and then I think it started to sink in with him, and before he could put it together, I explained that I was that kid on the bus!!!

We both confirmed that indeed it was the both of us on the bus that time and we made our way outside. He had a girl with him and explained what it was all about and I caught my lady up on the near cosmic coincidence that was taking place at of all places, a 7-11.

Craig then explained how they had literally JUST pulled into to Tucson and were wondering about their next move. He mentions something about needing to unload some smoke he had brought and I explained that was NOT gonna be a problem. He then said they needed a place to stay. I said, again, that will not be a problem. “You can stay with us!”

Now, this is where again, I might not remember everything. But they probably followed us the few blocks back to the hole and took one look in there and decided to take their chances with the rattlesnakes and javelina in the desert.

Betsy and I did eventually get out of that little pit and got a nice space on the corner of 6th and ?

This place actually had a basement. I KNOW huh?!?!? What are the odds.

We rented it from an elderly couple who live across the alley. The house itself was across from Tucson H.S.

We had random “Hobo” types stop and knock on our door. They asked for food and we were miffed by it. I think we mentioned it to someone one day and they said we had “Hobo Markings” in the yard. Some rocks were arranged a certain way and that was the signal.

We also had a really spooky situation there.

One night, Betsy and I decided to spend the night in the front living room. We had lived there for a little while already and felt okay there. Well, not this night. I know we weren’t creeping ourselves out. We had a pull out couch that was there when we moved in, and we just were laying there and both of us sort of got up at the same time and said enough of this.

It was the weirdest vibe I’ve ever experienced. It was definitely like some was watching us.

And we were not welcome there at that time. I got our blankets rounded up and Betsy was back in our bedroom before I could get there.

To be honest, I think it had something to do with that basement. When we moved in, of course we went down there and thought “Band Room” but it was all finished and had surfaced areas.

But, at the end of the room was this steamer trunk.

Just sitting there. I mean, the place did come “furnished” but what was this?

So we opened it and there were some clothes and who can remember. But I did get a cool pair of paints that were awesome 50’s or 60’s era. They were green slack type pants that were pegged. Man, they were sweet. Maybe the dead haunted our living room for messing with the trunk down there?

The place we had was attached to other units and had a courtyard in the center of our backyards. We eventually got Craig and his girl moved into our next door unit.

It was cool, because we all were taking care of each other and Craig and I tried to put together some music, but I was just a drummer and he was just a singer. I’m not sure if he played guitar or not….

But that fizzled, and we still were friends. Spending time together listening to records and just hanging out in general. He turned me onto Metallica’s demo tape when we lived together. We both loved FANG. And of course Motorhead!!!

I never got up to any trouble with Craig. He always seemed focused.

My life was swirling at a mile a minute and he seemed a little older and knew what to do.

With him just hitting town, he still need to find his crowd. I think he fell in with the Blood Spasm crew and it’s not like our worlds never collided. Hell, they were our best buds.

But, at some point we all moved on… He got another place and we did as well.

Craig and Leelanne became a “Thing” and were soon to be wedded!

Man, he was trucking and I was just spinning my wheels.

Well, I probably didn’t need to be married at 16 years old. That’s for sure.

But, they were doing it and we all got to be a part of the great day.

I recall we departed from the OZ house in Sam Zero’s truck. It was a tiny Toyota pickup and probably fit 5-6 people. Tops…

The wedding was at a home I believe, somewhere “WE” were not used to being. In the hills or something like that. It was kind of intimate and family was in town, so of course our “crew” was the odd man out here. We of course hit the bar and scarfed any food available and then made our way out to the pool area. Man, this was swank!

I remember a nice big pool with people just chilling out and having a great time.

A little band was gathered in the corner playing some standard tunes. Nothing wild, nothing too boring. Just a decent band…

Well, get a room full of musicians all drunk and loose and said band takes a breather….

Look out!!!

“Hey Dean!!! We should get up there and play some Hendrix” Paul Young, says to me.

He was the guitarist in Blood Spasm who was known for doing a Gene Simmons gimmick with the blood capsules in the mouth routine. Looked awesome.

Anyway, we are pestering the band, they of course just give us the brush. We meander around, somewhat disgruntled and eventually just resume free drinks and food.

I make my way over to the people I came with…. ( I can’t remember if we brought Paul with us or not) But I was just chilling out on the side of the pool nearest the house. Across the pool is a small wall that surrounds the pool and property.

Well, a little swell of commotion if going on over there and we hear people starting to yell and scream “PAUL!!! DON’T”

And before I could say “We got cactus” Paul is buck naked, with his clothes in a pile on the ground and him on top of this little retaining wall. “Hey.. Look at me!” Is what I believe he said as he proceeded to swan dive into the pool.

As he comes up from underwater, he has that huge Paul Young grin on his face and swims towards our side of the pool now.

There were screams of all sorts that moment. Maybe delight? (Doubtful)

Maybe laughter? Oh yeah.. plenty of laughs. Uncomfortable groans of what to do next.

That was the overwhelming vibe. Paul was that turd in the punch bowl right now, and we all had the scent of shit on us as well. So, he comes up and flicks his curly long hair back and just bellows that laugh of his….

At this point people from inside are making their way to the party outside. And from here it is like this was all scripted. I swear, I thought they had this worked out together. Like in wrestling. Where the two guys do it with a nod and a wink.

Craig approached the poolside with his just wedded in tuxedo and shining shoes. He looked like a million bucks. And he bent down to talk to Paul sorta under his breath. Bye now, EVERYONE was watching. I mean, you could hear a pin drop. And he extends his hand out to Paul as he’s saying “Paul… I think you need to get OUT of the pool!”

As calmly and cooly as he can.

And without missing a beat (His comedic timing was perfect) Paul says to Craig…

“NO Craig, I think you need to get IN!” And just yanked Craig into the pool. I think they wrestled around and splashed each other for a split second, but it was met with utter disdain.

I thought immediately of the suit. The host thought immediately of the cops. And were kind enough to inform us so.

It was all a blur from there. We made our exit and were met by the sheriffs at our truck. All of us looking crazy and Paul soaking wet with his clothes half on. “Which one of you is driving?” The cops asked us. Luckily Erin got right up there and said

“ME Officer!” They asked her if she’d been drinking and she shot back “NO, I’m straight edge and don’t drink or take drugs!” Which was NOT true, but did the trick and we got the hell out dodge. I always wonder if we were like that scene in Suburbia, when they had the funeral scene and all the girls family is there and so are the T.R. gang.

The mom is crying about the punks being there and the dad comes over to say “Don’t you see… We don’t want you here!” And the punk says back “But she’s OUR friend too!”

I imagined that hopefully that was just silly sidebar and hopefully they went on to have a great night. And a great life…

I kinda lost track of Craig after that. I had heard he joined the military and that was not a surprise. It made me proud to know him and that he wanted to server our country.

I ended up leaving Tucson myself not shortly there after. I moved to Portland and would often remember that bus trip long ago and Craig and how it was such a “Small World” thing when we met there at 7-11 that day.

Then Facebook brought us all back together and a little closer. We “friended” each other and it was like no time passed. Found out he was in Austin and made it a point to catch up with him, since I am in Austin frequently. In 2019 we did that. I made my way over to his place when he got off that day and we got coffee and went back to his place and chilled outside and caught up. He had arranged for some family and friends to “Meet my buddy Dean”

He made all this food and we had his daughters over. I got to meet the girls he talked so much about. We talked about everything under the sun… Had that dinner and talked some more. He was starting a new job the next day, but that did not stop him from hanging out. He milked his time with me and we said goodnight. I crashed on the couch. Underneath the awesome Tiki painting, or burnings, that he did. He was so talented. I was marveling at the pieces all night and he just off the cuff mentioned, “Oh yeah, I did those!”

I had to get my ass back to Portland the next day and he was up before I even got going so all I had was that small 18 hours with him, but I left full.

Full of love and companionship. Full of the faith in family and just being there for people. When Craig was with you, he was with YOU. He made you feel important and also shared what was important to him.

When I think of some of the last post he made about having a cook out with the neighbors that he met, and how they hung out talked after dinner and then figured they would do it more often. Craig had invited one them to a punk rock show, FEAR if I remember correctly. THAT just spoke volumes about WHO he was. To ME at least….

An honest, hard working, patriotic, punk rocker who just loved to break down that stereotype of the menacing punk rocker. If you even dared say hi to him, that’s it, you were hooked. He had ya and before ya knew it, you could be in a band, or riding motorcycles, making art, enjoying live bands, traveling the world… Whatever it was, he seemed ready willing and able.

When we visited, he told me this story about getting ready to leave somewhere after deployment and the higher ups came around looking for “Volunteers” to load ALL the luggage and stuff. Craig said “I raised my hand and said We’ll do it!” Then all the other men in his platoon started to moan and groan “Why did you volunteer US? We are almost done and out of here?”

Craig just said “Trust Me!”

So they got to humping all this gear and breaking a sweat as everyone else boarded the plane home. When they got all the luggage loaded, the head honcho says to him “Wagner, your group rides first class all the way home!” Craig just gave that all knowing grin and said “SEE?”

I learned of Craigs passing this week and it’s been sitting kinda hard with me.

Trying to imagine the void that his girls and everyone in his life is feeling. It hurts… Only the good die young?!?!

Huh…. Well that shit sucks!!!!

Craig, you worked hard, you played hard dude!!! Enjoy that first class trip home, brother.

You fucking earned it. Respect!!!

Your Cosmic Greyhound Bus Buddy:

Dean 13 Miles

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Bonding

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 1800 words. This scene takes place well after the events of the Romantic Epilogue as part of my post-route headcanon storyline.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: In the Spotlight

Mitsuhide sat on the edge of a stuffed chair, a ‘sofa’, across from his little one’s father. Minoru, for his part, didn’t look any more comfortable with the company. Neither of them said anything. Mitsuhide found that his usual silver tongue had run out of witticisms when faced with the twin challenge of a world 500 years in the future and the need to impress the father of his beloved.

In the kitchen, the chatelaine and her mother Youko were making dinner. Their lively chatter was the only sound as the two men studied each other.

Finally, Minoru cleared his throat. “So. How did you two meet?”

“The answer to that would require additional explanation. Suffice it to say, I met her in the course of my work. Initially, she was a responsibility of mine. To train her so that she knew enough to stay ali- ah, safe.” Mitsuhide smiled. “She was quite a handful.”

Minoru frowned. “Safe? Safe from what? What kind of business are you in?” He leaned forward.

“Intelligence and information gathering.” He silently thanked Sarutobi for the modern words to describe being a spy and torturer.

“You work for a government?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “That is a good way to put it. Yes. For a government.”

His little mouse poked her head through the door. “Everything going ok, you two?”

Both men cleared their expressions and smiled over at her. “Yes,” they replied, almost in unison.

Her bright smile lit up the room. “I’m so glad. I wanted you two to get along. Anyway, dinner is almost ready!” She disappeared again and the smiles the two men wore faded like snow under a noon-day sun.

Minoru turned back to Mitsuhide. “How did my daughter get tangled up with some government agent? She designs clothes. She left for a job in fashion.” His voice is strained, half a year’s worth of worry and frustration pushing at the seams of his soul.

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is amazing at making clothing. That is a career she continues to pursue. But I met her the night she pulled my superior from a burning building. Had she not arrived when she did, he would have died.”

“My baby girl . . . pulled a man from a burning building?” Minoru’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of incredulous disbelief.

“Yes, and after, he thought she should stay with our forces. For her protection and because he believed there was something special about her.” Mitsuhide’s thin smile reappeared. “He wasn’t wrong. She is very special. A wonder.”

Minoru coughed. “Well, yes, but . . . a burning building? She isn’t, that is, she wouldn’t just -”

Mitsuhide leaned forward. “You know her from her childhood. If she knew someone was going to burn to death and she had a chance to save them, would she leave them to die? Is it so unbelievable?”

He shook his head slowly. He knew his daughter was exactly the kind of girl to put herself at risk for another. “I should not be surprised. When she was five, she ran out into the street to stop traffic for a kitten. Almost got hit by a car. And it wasn’t until after the cat was safe that she even realized how close she came to dying.”

Both men chuckled.

“That sounds exactly like something my little mouse would do.”

Minoru scowled. “Your what?”

“A nickname,” Mitsuhide waved the comment off.

And then the call came for dinner. They all sat down around the table. A spread of familiar and strange foods that piqued Mitsuhide’s curiosity. He wondered which of these his beloved had made, and which her mother. To be safe, he thought, it would be wise to compliment every dish.

“So,” her mother began after everyone was served. “My daughter tells me you’re a warlord working for Oda Nobunaga?”

Mitsuhide choked in surprise, the bite of food sticking in his throat. He glanced at his little mouse for confirmation.

“It just sort of popped out while we were talking.”

With effort and a glass of water, Mitsuhide swallowed and cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to bring this up until after dinner, but yes.”

Minoru scowled. “You’re telling me you work for a man 500 years dead?”

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty lively last time I saw him,” Mitsuhide quipped.

His little mouse grinned. “Papa, be nice! I told you, we will tell you everything.” She took a deep breath. “It started the day I arrived in Kyoto. I went sightseeing . . .”

Mitsuhide listened as attentively as her parents, this version of the tale filling in gaps and details he hadn’t known. Her timely rescue of Sasuke Sarutobi, her run-in with the forces from Kasugayama. It appeared his little one was better at keeping secrets that he’d credited.

Through the story, her mother made little sounds of agreement or surprise, but Minoru was deathly silent. His expression turned darker at every part until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “This sounds like some ridiculous cartoon! You can’t expect your mother and I to buy this. Tell the truth! What is he, some mafia? A gambler? What?”

Youko frowned at him from across the table. “Now you just hush and eat your food. If our little girl says this is what happened, I believe her. She has no reason to lie. She knows we support her no matter what. Don’t we, dear?”

Minoru’s brows lowered. “You can’t be serious. This, this man shows up with our daughter after months with no word! Not a letter! Not a post card! With this crazy story and we’re supposed to just -”

“Accept it. You know as well as I do that if our girl didn’t write or call, it’s because she couldn’t. When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Youko nodded to emphasize her point. “Besides, when have you ever known her to lie.”

“She’s terrible at that,” Mitsuhide added drily.

Minoru’s scowl deepened. “Don’t talk like you know her. Maybe you drugged her or something, and now she thinks all that is true.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He’d expected this kind of reaction after Sasuke and his little one explained what ‘meeting the parents’ entailed. He was beginning to wish he could have simply sent some gifts and a contract, or better yet, left that to Nobunaga and simply married the girl. “We did bring some proof with us today, and we have friends tomorrow who can vouch for everything.”

Youko gave Mitsuhide an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you go get it? I’m sure it will make Mino a little less grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Minoru grumbled.

“You are, papa. But it’s ok. This is really all my fault. I wish I’d been able to call you both. I missed you so much.”

Her father swallowed whatever he’d planned to say, touched by his daughter’s affection.

Mitsuhide went to their bags and grabbed his sword and the clothes he’d arrived in. He carried them back to the dining area. These were unlikely to be enough, he thought, but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to be swept to this time that night.

“Our clothes -” he set them down, “and my sword.”

Minoru poked at the clothing, unimpressed. The sword, however, got his attention. “This . . . it isn’t just some decorative piece . . .” The words were quiet, said more to himself than anyone.

Still, Mitsuhide answered. ��No. That blade has taken many lives.”

“And saved some too,” his little mouse added. “Mine included.”

Minoru looked between the two of them. “Maybe you’ve both lost your minds. This thing -” He pointed at the sword, “is clearly an antique, but that proves nothing.”

“You are so stubborn,” Youko huffed.

Mitsuhide was beginning to see where his little one got that quality. Sweetness from her mother, stubbornness from her father. It made him smile.

***

Miyake and Sasuke sat at a nearby bar, drinks in hand.

“So this is called karaoke?” Miyake eyed the screen with words that moved and then emptied his sake cup. “And I can sing whatever I want?”

“Not whatever. I doubt they have any songs you know on file. But I think the enjoyment quotient will still be high.” Sasuke began tapping through the song selection, his expression focused. He stopped when he came across one with the image of a pink-faced girl. “This one.”

Miyake shrugged. “Alright.”

The music started. It sounded nothing like the instruments Miyake knew, or the rhythms and beats that were familiar to him. Still, he could pick out the melody, and it was nice - if strange.

The first word on the screen lit up and Sasuke started singing. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, even though the lyrics were senseless.

Miyake joined him on the next verse, nodding to the beat. It was a cheerful tune, he thought. Perfect to drink to. He poured another glass for himself and the ninja.

They emptied that and another as the song ended. The next pick was Miyake’s. He chose one based on the picture, a cute girl in a ridiculously short skirt.

“This is the theme song for my favorite anime,” Sasuke grinned.

“Then I picked a good one?”

Sasuke patted his arm. “A great one.”

Two hours later, both of them were too drunk to walk straight. Their singing got louder as their ability to pronounce the lyrics dwindled.

“Todokete atsuku naru omi . . .” The song dissolved into drunken laughter.

Miyake threw an arm around Sasuke. “Y-you’re my besht - besht fren.”

Sasuke leaned into the hug. “N-now I have two! Two besht frienz - friends.” He grinned but the expression slid into a sad frown.

“Wha - what ish it?” Miyake peered at the ninja’s face. “Need more sake?”

“I - I wish my other fren wash here,” Sasuke hiccuped. “An Shingen. I wash goin- going to take him to a hoshpital.”

Miyake nodded, though he didn’t understand. “Maybe nexsht time?”

“If he livesh,” Sasuke sighed.

“To Shingen,” Miyake poured them another round of sake. “And nexsht time!”

They drank to the toast.

Sasuke poured another. “And to friendsh we lef-left behind.”

They drank to that too.

After several more toasts that grew further away from the original point - to short skirts and lady’s stockings, to coffee, to the karaoke bar - the two men finally paid their tab and stumbled to the hotel.

Miyake nearly puked on the elevator, as the movement made his stomach flip. He would have taken the stairs, if he thought he could find the steps. He leaned on Sasuke as they walked down the hall. It felt like their room was miles away.

Sarutobi fumbled with the lock, and when the door opened, they fell inside.

Between leaning on each other and the walls, they managed to stand again.

“I’m go-gonna shower,” Miyake mumbled.

“Me nexsht,” Sasuke agreed. He tripped toward the beds and fell into the nearest one, face first.

Miyake made it to the shower, but didn’t manage to turn it on. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head back on the cool tiles, falling into a deep sleep.

Next: Middle Ground

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen sasuke #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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miraculouswolf99 · 3 years

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Grand Festival Showdown

The Miraculous gang as Pokemon trainers. All of them are the same, but their dreams have all been modified to include pokemon. Kagami, Kim, Alix, and Ivan are all battlers. Marinette, Adrien, Luka, Nino, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Lila all do contests. Juleka, Rose, and Mylene all do showcases. This all takes place in the Sinnoh Region.

Includes my favorite Lila Salt as well as Alya Salt.

My original characters are included in this story as well. Lyon being a champion grand coordinator, Vallia being a pokemon nurse in training, Apollo is a contest contestant, Mason being a gym leader, and Lena is a friend to the twins.

This is a long one, about 6000 words, so buckle up people.

*****

If there was one thing that Adrien loved, it was competing in pokemon contests. Since his father usually forced him to model for his fashion company, he appreciated the beauty that he saw in the pokemon that his father made matching outfits of for the photoshoots. And from watching the Pokemon League on television, he definitely also knew that they had power. So contests were the perfect blend of how he saw pokemon as the beautiful and powerful creatures that they were.

Not that his father even knew that he participated in them. Gabriel Agreste wanted his son to be a proper heir to Gabriel Pokemon Fashion. And that did not include anything involving contests, battles, or even showcases. He forced him to do all kinds of photoshoots, had him model with humans and pokemon alike, not to mention the fact that he would not have gotten his starter pokemon had he not sneaked out of the house. But he did it anyway, and his adorable Turtwig had managed to evolve into a Torterra.

But if there was one mistake that Gabriel made, it was letting him have lots of privacy. There may be cameras outside his bedroom door, but none inside of his room. That certainly helped when he had to sneak out to meet his friends, capture more pokemon, train his pokemon, or compete in a contest that was nearby. Plus, he also was able to sneak away to contests that were in the same town as a photoshoot that he was doing. He just had to lie and say that he was staying in his hotel room for a few hours. His life may have been mostly controlled, but that did not mean he was not sneaky when he was getting what he wanted.

Since contests were televised, he did have to keep his father from finding out. So he donned a disguise. He became Cat Noir, a mysterious pokemon contest prodigy that no one knew the real name of.

Only three people knew about his second life as Cat Noir. His best friend Kagami, who shared the same type of sheltered life as he did but she preferred battles to contests, and his other two friends Lyon and Marinette. Lyon is one half of a set of twins, his sister currently working under a Nurse Joy in order to become a pokemon doctor, and he was already a top coordinator back in his home region of Kalos. Marinette is a coordinator like him and also came from the Kalos region like Lyon, but she is usually shy and also has desires to become a pokemon fashion designer.

He had met Kagami during one of the social events they were both forced to attend by their parents. They got along great and both had the same desire to be free. If they were in the same town, which happened more often than one would think, they would often use each other as an excuse to sneak away for a gym battle, contest, or training with their pokemon. He met Lyon by chance when he had been training and his Turtwig almost hit the Top Coordinator with a razor leaf gone wild. Lucky for him that Lyon was a lot more down-to-earth than one would expect from a person with as much success as him while he was so young. Marinette, being a fellow coordinator, had been at a contest which she had lost to him. She had seen him take off his Cat Noir mask and recognized him from his father's magazines. She had been a great friend to him and understood why he used the mask.

There were few things that could actually make him smile so carefree other than contests. His constant photoshoots, dealing with stuck-up models, and his seemingly careless father did not make him smile that way. He hated modeling and even though he loved being all the pokemon that he modeled with, he wanted to see pokemon just as free as he wanted to be. He wanted to be famous for working hard like legendary trainers Ash Ketchum, Gary Oak, and Steven Stone. Or coordinators like Fantina, Wallace, and Zoey.

But he was now was at the top pokemon contest of the Sinnoh region. The Grand Festival. He had earned his ribbons and now Cat Noir was at his first Grand Festival. What he looked forward to most of all was that he knew that Kagami was going to be in the audience, Lyon was a special guest, and that Marinette was also competing.

He did not like the idea that he might have to battle his friend at some point, but these things do tend to happen. Especially since he was also aware that other friends of his had also made it to the Grand Festival. They had all attended the same pokemon school before it was time for their journeys to begin. He knew his friends Luka, Nathaniel, and his childhood friend Chloe were also all competing.

So, he was just getting ready backstage before all of them would have their qualifying performances before the battle rounds started. He was in his Grand Festival outfit of a black suit with green details, a black and green coat with a cape-like back, shiny green dress shoes, "cat claw" gloves, his signature cat-eye mask, and fake black cat ears on his head.

"My, my, don't you look fancy," Adrien heard near him.

The model almost jumped out of his skin but calmed down when he saw that it was just Lyon. And from looking at him, he definitely saw why people called him the White Wolf.

Lyon was in an icy outfit that almost gave him the illusion of having his own ice powers. He had on a fancy white vest over a blue short-sleeve silk shirt. It matched the white pants that he wore with his shin-high blue boots. He also wore a white hooded cloak with snowflake designs all over it. On his lower arms were silver arm-band bracelets with snowflake and wolf designs on them. His midnight-black hair also had fake wolf ears in it.

"Oh, Lyon," Adrien let himself breathe again. "For a second, I thought my identity had been discovered."

"Well, you may need to get a little better at hiding when you change," Lyon chuckled. "If you win and become Top Coordinator, the press will be even more ruthless with trying to find out your identity."

"I deal with the press on a regular basis already, Lyon," Adrien reminded him.

"Yeah, but I can tell you from experience that when it comes to being a Top Coordinator, people pay more attention to us," Lyon said.

"Well, I can see why that would happen with you," Adrien not-so-subtly flirted with him.

"Careful, kitty," Lyon teased him. "Wouldn't want the wolf to eat the cat before his big performance."

Adrien chuckled, always having liked how they could always joke around with their chosen performer names of cat and wolf. There were so few people that he could act like himself around and he certainly enjoyed Lyon's company.

"So, you here as just a special guest or also as a surprise judge," Adrien asked him.

"My dear Cat Noir, now that would be telling," Lyon smirked as he teased the teen coordinator.

"Oh, thank Arceus that I found you," they both heard a female voice.

They both turned and saw Marinette running toward them. Lyon recognized her from pictures that Adrien had sent him and of course, Adrien would recognize his best friend even if she was decked out in her Grand Festival dress. Probably a dress of her own design as well.

She was in a beautiful dress that was in a ladybug design with a little pink mixed in. It was a knee-length dress that was mostly red with black spots all over it. Under it was a crinoline that was colored pink that helped her dress by more poofy. The sleeves of her dress were elegant bell sleeves that ended at her elbows and lower arms instead of her wrists. Her hair was also extended and placed into a long ponytail coming from the top of the back of her head with roses tied where the ponytail started. On her feet were red wedge-heel boots that went up to her knees.

"How you can run in those heels is beyond me," Lyon said.

"Especially given that one of the first things that you told me about yourself was that you are extremely clumsy," Adrien added.

"Well, I was running with a purpose," Marinette said.

"That purpose being to find one of us if what you had said means anything," Lyon says.

"It's about Adrien, or rather Cat Noir really," Marinette said.

"Oh, great," Adrien sighed, having expected the fame of his mysterious identity to cause some type of drama at the Grand Festival.

"Do you remember when I was telling you about that liar, Adrien," Marinette asked him.

"Yeah," Adrien nodded. "Lila is what you told me her name was. The girl that lies with every breath she takes and has an ego bigger than a Wailord."

"Well, she somehow got her five ribbons and is going around telling people that she knows who you are," Marinette tells her friend.

"What," Adrien's eyes widen.

"Not just that," Marinette continued. "She is also saying that she is dating you and you're apparently head over heels for her."

Adrien could not help but facepalm when he heard that.

"Here comes the headache that I did not know was going to happen," he groaned.

"Here's some aspirin," Marinette gave Adrien the medicine. "I thought that if the liar managed to get here, I would need some myself. I've already had three headaches because of her. And that is just today."

"Am I missing something," Lyon asked.

"Yes," Adrien said before popping the medicine into his mouth.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she took the liberty of explaining.

"Lila Rossi is a pathological liar that I ran into after I won my first two contests," she says. "At first, I had believed her tall tales until she said that she knew the designer for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale."

"MDC," Lyon raised an eyebrow. "As such a private designer, I highly doubt that a random girl would know her. Especially if she is bragging about it to anyone that will listen to her."

Marinette nodded. "Exactly. So I then immediately knew that Lila was nothing but a liar. Especially since she said that MDC is a boy when anyone with common sense, and access to the internet, know that MDC's only given clue to who she is that she is a she."

"Yet, people actually believe her," Lyon put a hand on his hip.

"As I said, she is a pathological liar," Marinette says. "One that uses people's knowledge to make her lies sound realistic. Like how my friend Rose is friends with Prince Ali, and my boyfriend Luka is Jagged Stone's son, and even how Adrien is Cat Noir. Lila uses people's own experiences to give her lies credibility. Like a situation of 'if I can know celebrities then so can she."

"Weirdly enough, I can see how that makes sense," Adrien said.

"What can we do about her," Lyon asked. "Can we just have Adrien call her out as Cat Noir?"

"Since Adrien has to keep his identity a secret, she could just pull out another lie about him protecting her or that they got into a fight," Marinette said. "It's how she explained when MDC posted on social media that she had never met Lila before."

"This is gonna be a disaster, isn't it," Adrien guessed. "There is no way someone like how you describe Lila would go down without a fight."

"She may be lying, but won't she lie herself into a corner," Lyon asked. "Especially if 'Cat Noir' actually does enter a relationship."

"The problem is the damage that she can cause along the way," Marinette said.

"Trust me, I was on your train of thought as well until Marinette explained things more to me," Adrien said. "Lila is not just lying about herself, she is also lying about what she can do for others. Saying that she can put a good word in for people to get certain jobs, internships, or futures in careers that they want. When it actually comes time for them to her to fulfill those promises, a lot of people will be met with disappointment. Plus, with her promising these things, they will not apply to other jobs, colleges, or internships on their own. It would take a long time for them to recover from her lies."

"I see," Lyon understood what they meant. "Guess this just gives me more reasons to not come out in public more if I have to deal with people like her."

"She hasn't happened to make any lies about Lyon, has she," Adrien asked Marinette.

"Well, she apparently was trained in the art of contests by Lyon and was supposedly the muse that inspired him to chose his 'White Wolf' look," Marinette said.

"And... now I have a headache," Lyon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Here you go," Marinette handed the top coordinator some aspirin.

"Thank you," he took it immediately.

Adrien had known Lyon for quite a while now. Lyon had come from a rich family just like he did. But while he had been almost forced to model, Lyon's parents let him choose his own path. He was known for being the youngest ever grand coordinator out there. But since he had met him, Adrien also knew that Lyon generally was very humble and kind, but was basically an ice prince to anyone that tries to use him for their own gain.

So if Lila was not in trouble before, she sure was going to be now that Lyon knew about her lying about him. And that was troubling enough without Lyon's twin sister, Vallia, hearing about this. She might have the nickname of the Flower Princess and might be trying to become a Pokemon doctor, but that did not mean she was not dangerous on the battlefield.

"If she is still telling lies, I am guessing that she still has her regular audience," Adrien looks at Marinette again.

She nodded sadly. "Alya is still her most loyal sheep and there are also a lot of other friends of ours that are under her spell as well."

Lyon looked at the two with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for more details.

"There are times where I can escape photoshoots even if I do not have a contest to sneak off to," Adrien explained. "I would meet up with Marinette as much as I could and she introduced me to a lot of her friends. I have especially gotten along well with Nino, Kim, Juleka, and Marinette's boyfriend Luka."

"And before Lila came along, my friend Alya was my best friend," Marinette said. "I went to our town pokémon school with them before we all started our journeys. But when Lila showed up with all of her tall tales and false promises, they follow her like sheep following their shepherd. Most of my old class is under her spell. Only Adrien, myself, Luka, Kim, Juleka, and our other friends Nathaniel, Marc, and Kagami know that she is nothing but a liar."

"Alya used to be a reporter hopeful," Adrien tells Lyon. "She ran a very popular blog about up-and-coming battlers and coordinators. But then Lila came along with her tales and now most of Alya's blog is about her. She basically takes Lila's words as gospel and attacks anyone that so much as even hints that they think that Lila is anything less than a perfect angel."

"Wow," Lyon gasped. "This girl sounds worse than an angry Darkrai, and you never want to run into one of those."

"Yeah, Lila is a piece of work," Adrien sighed. "She really needs to be silenced before her tales get someone into trouble."

"Yeah," Marinette said. "She has been saying how Jagged Stone wrote a song about her and that Clara Nightingale stole dance moves from her. Those types of lies can ruin their careers."

"Well, I have no secret identity," Lyon says. "She won't be able to lie her way out of me saying that I have no idea who she is."

"Just be careful how you explain how you heard about her lies," Adrien warned him. "Lila has been trying to turn people against Marinette because she knows about her lies. At a few past contests that I had won, I heard a few other coordinators insulting her all because of lies that Lila told about her."

Lyon looked disgusted by the behavior. Coordinators and battlers were both very large families. Yes, there were some bad seeds in each family, but this girl was something way beyond a bad seed. How can one person just be such a selfish liar that she is willing to ruin another person's life just because they did not believe their lies?

But before they could continue their conversation, an announcement was made over the backstage speakers. It was for the coordinators that were competing to get ready since the first round was going to be starting soon.

"Just do your best, you two," Lyon tells them. "And if that liar gives you any trouble, she won't be much of an issue for much longer."

With a "Whoosh" of his cloak, Lyon left to go down the hallway. He had his own business at the Grand Festival that he needed to take care of before he would be able to help his friends.

"He always did like to make dramatic exits," Adrien chuckled.

"I just hope we actually won't have to deal with Lila for much longer," Marinette says.

The two of them went the opposite way down the hall, to the locker room where the contestants have to stay when they are not on stage. Adrien went to the side and leaned against the wall to keep up his appearance of the mysterious and quiet Cat Noir. Looking around the room, he noticed some familiar faces. Like Marinette had gone to stand next to her boyfriend, and fellow coordinator, Luka. There was also her friend Nathaniel and his boyfriend Marc along with her former friend Nino, Alya's boyfriend. Adrien also noticed his childhood friend Chloe as well and, unfortunately, Lila.

Soon, on the screens, appeared Marian, the usual contest announcer for Sinnoh. And from the audience that was seen in the background, Adrien could make out Kagami in the crowd as well as Alya. He was surprised to see Kagami there, but it was a very welcome surprise.

"Welcome, everyone to the beautiful waterside town of Lake Valor for this year's Grand Festival," she announced into her mic, making the crowd cheer. "Sixty talented coordinators from all over the Sinnoh region have joined us here to perform and battle their way into becoming the newest Top Coordinator!"

"And that will be me," was muttered all around the locker room, from confident and cocky contestants.

"Over the next few days, these talents coordinators will perform and battle their way into being named the next Top Coordinator," Marian continued. "The first stage is the Performance Stage, where our contestants will show off the beauty of their pokémon and their moves in double performances. After this stage, we will boil down our contestants to the lucky thirty-two for the Battle Stage where they will fight in double battles to win the chance to be named Top Coordinator."

"We got this, Torterra," Adrien whispered to the Pokeball in his hand.

"And to help us, let me introduce our judges," Marian continued again. "First is the Chief of the Pokémon Activities Committee, our head judge, Mr.Contesta."

"I look forward to watching all these coordinators doing their very best," the judge said as the spotlight shined down on him.

"Next is the President of the Pokémon Fan Club, Mr.Sukiza," Marian introduced.

"Remarkable," the next judge used his catchphrase.

"And, of course, Nurse Joy," Marian announced. "She is a very special guest all the way from the Kanto region."

The spotlight shined down on the pokemon nurse.

"It's an honor to be here and to help judge these amazing contestants, I called my sisters from Pewter City and Cerulean City."

Two more Nurse Joy seemed to materialize from behind her.

"We're very happy to be here," they all said at once.

"And last, but definitely not the least, our guest judge," Marian announces, making the crowd and contestants curious as to who it might be. "He is the youngest ever Top Coordinator of three regions and has graced us with his presence from all the way in Kalos. He's known as the White Wolf, it's Lyon Garden!"

A fourth spotlight shined down and Lyon was presented, making the crowd erupt into cheers.

Adrien was both shocked and not shocked at the same time. He figured that Lyon was here for a reason, but he suspected that it was for a guest performance, not as a judge. But he did smirk as he saw Lila pale a little at the sight of one of the people that she lied about.

"Ladies and gentlemen, coordinators of all ages," Lyon says. "I hope to see plenty of creativity, skill, passion, and most of all, I want to see good sportsmanship. I wish you all the luck in the world, but I will still tell you the cold hard truth about everything you and your pokemon do."

Adrien chuckled under his breath. Lyon would always be Lyon, and that meant that the Ice Prince, which all of their friends called him, would come out every now and again.

"The performance stage will be divided into three separate stages," Marian announced as all three male judges went to a separate stage with one of the Nurse Joy's. "Blue, green, and red. And the performances will be happening simultaneously. Let's get this first round started!"

The crowd cheered. In the locker room, the three first contestants were called out for each of the stages.

Adrien certainly got the meaning of the three stages. It was an extra challenge to be able to do a proper performance when there were two others happening at the same time. It was all about being able to focus on what you were doing and not get overwhelmed.

As the performances started and coordinators showed off their skills, Adrien definitely saw a few that would be his main competition. Such as when Luka took his turn on the blue stage, he did a very enchanting performance with his Sunflora and ghost-type Oricoro. As Marinette has told him, Luka loves music and almost always includes sound in his performances. And as he heard the sound and saw the glowing musical notes of Luka's performance, he knew that boy was going to be a challenging opponent.

There was also Nathaniel and Marc. They worked on a pokemon comic book together, so both of their creative and artistic skills showed in their performances. And it was also an amazing sight to see how Nathaniel had a rare Phione that he paired with his Piplup for his performance was stunning aquatic moves. And Marc was definitely no slouch as he gave an incredible display of nature with his Meganium and Cherubi.

But that was to say that there were not some fails as well.

Sadly, this list of fails included Nino. Adrien might have once called him a friend, but that certainly stopped when the guy started believing Lila's lies about Marinette. And by how badly he failed his performance, Adrien had to guess that Nino had probably taken some of Lila's "advice" about what he should do. It certainly was not a good look to the green stage judges when his Buizel went flying back from a Will-O-Wisp from his Drifblim was too powerful for the combo he was trying to do.

When Marinette got her turn on the red stage, Adrien was proven right when he had guessed that she would do a flawless performance. It was an amazing combination of her icy Amaura with her beautiful Vivillon. Especially when she had beautiful glowing snowflakes falling all over the stage with a combination of icy wind and silver wind followed by a morning sun.

Plus, it was certainly nice to see Lila so angry over Marinette having done nothing wrong in her performance one bit.

But even Adrien had to admit that even though he hated Lila as a person, she did pretty well during her own performance. Sure, her combo moves were a little predictable with the pokemon that she chose, but they still worked out in the end for her. But Adrien had a feeling that like the liar that she was, she was probably just using combo moves that she has seen in the past and using them herself but with different pokemon so that it is not obvious that she is just a copycat.

Then, Cat Noir was called for the blue stage. Adrien took a deep breath as he went out toward the stage. He passed Marinette on his way and she gave him an encouraging hug. He knew that Lyon was the judge for the blue stage along with the main Nurse Joy guest judge from Kanto. But he knew that Lyon would not judge him any easier just because they were friends. If anything, he'd be judged harder since Lyon knows how hard he had trained for this.

"And next on the blue stage is the talk of the Grand Festival," he heard Marian announce. "A masked coordinator that has been taking the contest world by storm. The pokemon contest prodigy himself, Cat Noir."

There was loud cheering as he ran out there and pulled out his pokeballs.

"Torterra, Togekiss, claws out," he threw their pokeballs into the air with his signature catchphrase.

With the star sticker on both the pokeballs, both of the pokemon came out in a swirl of stars. Most would doubt using a pokemon as big and tough-looking as Torterra for the Performance Stage, but Adrien was not most people.

Togekiss lands gracefully on the tree of Torterra's shell. There was a reason why Togekiss were known as some of the most graceful pokemon in the world.

"Togekiss, sky attack. Torterra, leaf storm," Adrien commanded.

Togekiss shined with a white aura as it slowly floated into the air. But at the same time, Torterra's tree let out its storm of leaves and green wind. Since Togekiss was right on the tree, as it flew into the air, the storm swirled around it and followed it. The leaves and window giving off an incredible light that was a result of the combo of the light of the sky attack with the flow of the leaf storm. Togekiss then flew higher into the air.

"Safeguard," Adrien commanded.

Togekiss then unleashed the blue and sea green force field that the protection move grants. It caused the sky attack and the leaf storm to disperse in a gorgeous flash of light.

Lyon and Nurse Joy both looked impressed by how he so effortlessly made a beautiful start to his performance.

"Torterra, sunny day. Togekiss, aerial ace," Adrien commanded.

Torterra's tree glowed with sunlight as it then threw a ball of light into the air. It headed right toward Togekiss as it was surrounded by streams of white energy as it flew around to use its move. The sunny day move was hit by Togekiss, resulting in a bright flash of light.

And the crowd and judges and fellow contestants gasped as Togekiss emerged from the light. The aerial ace and sunny day had merged together and had created a stunning rainbow trail that followed it as it flew around the stage. It was one of the most stunning things ever seen in a contest in ages.

Togekiss then did an aerial twirl before landing right back on Torterra's tree and causing the rainbow trail to burst into rainbow-colored sparkles that fell all over the stage.

Adrien took a bow as his performance ended. The crowd and judges were all on their feet as they gave him a giant round of applause. Lyon caught his eye and gave him a look filled with pride and congratulations.

"I don't think I have ever seen a performance like that," Lyon says, doing his judging. "A true mastery of both the power of a Torterra and the elegance of a Togekiss. Truly the best performance I have seen in a long time."

"It was indeed incredible," Nurse Joy added her judging. "To combine two pokemon so different from each other and making them work in such harmony really is a breathtaking piece of art."

Adrien could not be prouder of himself as he returned Torterra and Togekiss to their pokeballs and then started to walk back to the locker room. He was about halfway there when Marinette basically tackled him with a hug.

"I have never seen anything like that," she practically yelled in excitement. "You're Torterra was so well-trained and Togekiss was beautiful. I will never know where you get your time to train performances like that, but that was so awesome."

Adrien chuckled at the enthusiasm of his friend.

"Thanks, Marinette," he said. "I loved your performance as well. Those snowflakes were such works of art and they were almost like fairies floating around the stage."

Marinette blushed at the compliment.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I knew that ice moves and flying-type moves are usually a good mix, so when you add in the light from the silver wind, it creates the snowflakes."

"I just know that I will see you in the finals," Adrien grinned at her. "I may not want to beat you, but I'm going to."

"In your dreams, kitty," Marinette giggled as she knew that it would be one hell of a showdown.

"Get your hands off of Lila's man, Mari-brat," a female voice was heard.

"And, here we go again," Marinette groaned.

Marinette turned around as Adrien looked at who was yelling. It seems that Alya was as much of Lila's attack Growlith now as she always seems to be since the liar showed up in their lives. And it looked like Lila was fake crying behind her while Nino was trying to comfort her.

"Uh... who are you," Adrien asked.

Now, Adrien had done some voice acting for a few movies that his dad wanted him to do. So, he was a pretty good actor. Adrien might know who Alya is, but Cat Noir has never met her before.

Alya looked at Adrien, smiling at him. But he could still see the rage in her eyes over something that Lila probably lied about. This was probably about the lies about him dating Lila with the liar probably also throwing in some other lies to make Marinette look even worse.

"Oh, I guess Lila never mentioned me," Alya said. "I'm Alya, your girlfriend's best friend."

"Uh... And who is..." Adrien tried to reveal Lila as a liar.

"Oh, don't worry about lying to protect her," Alya interrupted him, proving that they were right about how Lila would lie her way out of Cat Noir saying that he did not know her. "But I should warn you that this girl that you're talking to is nothing but a giant bully."

"Excuse me," Adrien had to stop himself from snapping at Marinette's former best friend.

"She is nothing but a bully, liar, and cheat," Alya glared at Marinette. "She is always bullying Lila and trying to steal her pokemon. She always calls Lila a liar when she is no such thing. Plus, she drugs all her pokemon to make sure her performances are good. Plus, she steals Lila's contest ideas. So, get your hands off of Lila's boyfriend, Mari-brat."

"You know, Luka used to tell me that you're heart song screamed that you were a bad friend," Marinette crossed her arms. "I did not believe him, but I will never doubt him ever again since you have ditched me for a liar."

"SEE," Alya yelled as she looked at Adrien and pointed at Marinette as if she had just been proven right. "She just called Lila a liar. She is a total bully."

"Well, she obviously is..." Adrien was interrupted again but by a different person this time.

"Hello, kitty," Lyon says as he approached the group.

"Wolfie," Adrien was immediately back in a good mood as he saw his friend.

"I have a reward for you for such an incredible performance," Lyon said.

Before Adrien could ask, he was suddenly kissed by Lyon. But the shock soon wore off as he melted into the kiss.

Marinette looked ready to burst in excitement as her ship has finally sailed. But she did now owe Luka a batch of his favorite caramel and chocolate scones since he had bet her that the two would get together at the Grand Festival while she thought it would happen after it. But she did not care.

Alya looked ready to burst in anger. Lila looked like she wanted to either cry more fake tears or just throw a monster tantrum. Nino just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF ARCEUS ARE YOU DOING," Alya screamed.

That made them break apart from the kiss. But Lyon just put his arm around Adrien's waist.

"I believe that I was kissing my boyfriend," Lyon said. "We've had to keep it secret because of the media, but we've been together a few months."

Adrien and Marinette both knew that he was lying, but they did not care. Besides, this was to both expose Lila and have an excuse to start dating.

"You've been cheating on your girlfriend for that long," Alya continued to scream.

Lila then chose to speak up, also choosing to fake cry.

"How could you do this to be, Noir," she cried to fake tears.

"Oh, so this is the girl that you were warning me about, Marinette," Adrien decided to join Lyon in his act. "The one that was going around and saying that I was dating her?"

"Yep, that's her," Marinette played along as well.

"Well, then," Adrien started, facing Alya. "As I was about to tell you, I do not have a girlfriend. I never have and I never will. As you can plainly see, I am gay and I have a wonderful boyfriend."

"Lila is not a liar," Alya continued to scream. "You're just a cheater that is trying to make her look bad."

"Wow, this girl is a piece of work," Lyon rolled his eyes.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Alya yelled at Lyon. "She was the one that gave you the inspiration to be the White Wolf and you trained her to be a coordinator. How could you betray her like this?!?"

"Her? Inspire me? As if," Lyon gave Alya an icy glare. "This is the first day that I have ever met this girl. I became the White Wolf because my sister used to call me a wolf because of how loyal I am to my friends and family. They also all call me the Ice Prince, so White Wolf was born out of my two childhood nicknames."

"You need better friends since Marinette is most definitely is right," Adrien said. "This Lila girl is, most definitely, nothing but a liar."

"Let's go before our IQ gets any lower from being around a liar and her loyal sheep," Lyon held Adrien's hand as the three of them left. "And if someone is accusing you of drugging your pokemon, Marinette, I will lend you my family lawyers to sue that liar for slander."

Marinette wanted to laugh so hard as she saw the look of horror on Lila's face as they passed. She did start laughing once they were out of earshot.

"This is turning into the best day of my life," Marinette looked so happy.

"You're welcome," Lyon smirked.

"Won't you now get accused of favoritism when Lila will probably spread that you two are 'together' as revenge," Marinette asked Lyon.

"Everyone saw Adrien's performance, so I doubt that will happen," Lyon was confident.

"Okay," Marinette accepted that. "Also, it is about time you two got together. Adrien's had a crush on you forever."

"MARINETTE," Adrien yelled as he blushed.

All Marinette did in response was smirk and giggle.

#lila salt #Lila exposed #i hate lila rossi #alya salt #CrossOver #crossovers are the best #pokemon #pokemon contest #grand festival #miraculous #miraculous fandom #original character #nino salt #marinette x luka #adrien x oc #ADRIEN DESERVES BETTER

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watermelonsugar2612 · 3 years

Text

Fiancee

“Do we have to go?” whined Harry as he scurried around the large kitchen of 12, Grimmauld Place gathering ingredients for dinner and Ginny, his girlfriend, leaned against the large island in the middle. He was talking about shopping for Ron and Hermoine’s wedding. “Yes, baby. We have to go! At least this won’t be as boring as one of your Auror functions at the ministry,” she replied and rolled her eyes. “Honestly Ginny, we shag at most of those ‘Auror functions’ so don’t even go there,” he chuckled, “You have a point!” she laughed and pecked him on the lips.

***

“Bubba, you want to watch ‘The Notebook’ tonight?” Ginny asked him while going through the movies as Harry cleared up the dishes. “But I thought it was my turn to pick a movie!” he said as he crossed across the room and sat beside Ginny. She looked at him with the cutest puppy eyes and he melted right there. “Ughh. You know I can’t say no to that beautiful face. We can watch whatever you want!” he said, getting lost in those beautiful brown eyes. He kissed her, quick and soft, as she put on the movie. They snuggled together, both of their eyes on the TV as Harry mindlessly played with her hair. They talked and kissed and cuddled up, falling asleep not even 45 minutes into the movie. It was like they completed each other. One was incomplete without the other.

***

It was the next morning and as a thin ray of sunlight dappled Ginny’s freckled face, she slowly opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Harry. She gave a slight content smile and kissed him on his forehead. He lightly opened his eyes and his gaze met with hers. Ginny broke apart and got up. “Busy day today! Ron and Hermoine are going to come by in-” she glanced at the clock above the sofa, “shit. 15 minutes! Get up!” she said as she pulled Harry up and literally dragged him to the bathroom. “Gin! Snookums! It’s just Ron and Hermoine! Why are we getting so worked up?” he looked at her, confused. “We are supposed to go shopping for their wedding! With Mum, Dad and the Grangers!” Ginny almost screamed. “Oh shoot-” Harry said as he quickly put some toothpaste on his and Ginny’s toothbrush. They brushed and got into the shower together. Ginny got dressed in a low cut white tank top, shorts and a brown cardigan. Harry wore a black hoodie and jeans. They quickly came out looking fresh and ready. They settled in the kitchen, waiting for Ron and Hermoine. “Gin- you look so hot,” he said as he looked at her slightly wet and thin body, he walked toward her and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her body. It was fierce and full of need. He pinned her against the counter and lightly squeezed her arse. There was a light flash sound as Ron and Hermoine walked out of the floo. They didn’t pull away and Ginny tangled her hand in Harry’s messy black hair, her back facing the newly arrived guests. “Oi!” Ron shouted. Ginny slightly pulled away to take a breath and muttered, “git.” Harry chuckled and got back to his gorgeous girlfriend. After a few seconds, they pulled away, deciding that their guests had enough of a show for that morning. “Bloody rabbits.” Ron cursed. “Good Morning to you too mate!” Harry laughed. “Come on, let’s go. Before these two start snogging again.” Ron said with a deadly look. “Will you not accept the fact that they are together, Ronald?!” Hermoine said, annoyed. Ron rolled his eyes and Harry held Ginny tightly from the side. “We have to get Mum and Dad, Hermoine’s parents will meet us there directly,” Ron said to the others. They nodded and Ron and Hermoine stepped into the chimney. “The Burrow!” they said together.

“Fuck Gin. I’m so turned on right now, I don’t know how I will keep it in my pants,” he muttered into her ear. “I can tell love,” she said trying to hide the lust in her voice as his bulge pressed against the side of her thigh. They stepped into the chimney and appeared in the Burrow a moment later. Harry was still clinging to Ginny from the side and Molly held her arms open to hug them both. Luckily, his bulge was not uncovered by Molly as she took both of them in the hug together. “Harry! Ginny! How are you two doing? It’s like we don’t see you anymore!” she said and pulled away. “Nothing much mum, we just-” she felt his bulge getting bigger and she forgot what she was about to say, overcome with lust. “We- study and… ummm, play quidditch. I help Harry prepare… as an Auror.” she said, trying not to sound unusual because what was the truth was, they ate, binged and shagged. “Okay? That’s good darling! Daddy, will be downstairs in a second.” Molly said as she got back to Hermione and Ron. “gin-” Harry threw a look at Ginny and she nodded, reassuring him that she needed him too. Soon enough, Harry and Ginny greeted George, Angelina and Percy as Arthur appeared on the staircase. He greeted everyone and they all flooed to a store in Muggle London to buy bridesmaids and groomsmens dresses and suits. They met Luna, The Grangers, Dean, Seamus and Neville at the store.

“The theme of the wedding is blue, along with white so couples will wear the same shade of blue! Bridesmaids will wear long dresses. Let each couple try on their clothes one by one.” instructed Hermione. George and Angelina went first and with just a few different outfits, settled on something to wear. Then Dean and Seamus, picked the very first suit that they both tried on. “Harry! Ginny! Go on.” Hermione signalled toward the trial room. Harry’s bulge was still large enough to be noticed, but he had no way out. He got up, trying not to show his front to the crowd. They walked into the trial room and the sales assistant handed them both robes to try on. They made their way into the changing room which was large enough to fit 5 people. It had chairs and hangers and enough light. “Finally,” Harry gasped as he caught Ginny’s lips into a hot and urgent kiss. She lifted her legs and tied them around his waist. He started by taking her cardigan off. Her hand entangled in his hair and squeezed her arse. She moaned loudly and pulled away with a grunt, “What if someone hears?” she said. He took out his wand from his back pocket and cast a silencing charm on them. He didn’t care as his wand met with the ground with a clatter. She pulled off his shirt and he did the same. He looked at her beautiful breast covered with a thin white bra which was almost sheer. This time he didn’t connect her lips to his again, instead kissing her neck. “Oh… Harry! I need you…” she moaned and Harry realised they didn’t have much time. He pinned her hard against the wall and put his hand inside her knickers, slowly inserting a finger. “Ahhh… yesss,” she moaned even louder. “Gin-” he grunted as he pulled her pants down along with her knickers, she indeed his belt and quickly unbuttoned his jeans. He took off his boxers and thrust into her slowly but hard. “Oh! Move Harry, move,” she moaned and he started a steady pace. It was hard not to come immediately. God, this woman would be the end of him. “Harder! Oh…. yesss! Faster Harry!” she screamed. He went at an unbelievably fast pace. Thrust after thrust it made him closer to his high. He fondled her breast and pounded into her. Once, twice, thrice. “Harry! Harry! Harry!” “Gin! Gin!” The room was filled with moans of either name. “Harry! I’m cum- Ah!” he swivelled his hips and thrust into her at an angle that had her spilling immediately. Her orgasm triggered his. He thrust into her as deep as he could and released his seed. “Gin-” he grunted as he felt himself come back down. “Wow- that was,” Ginny smiled. “I love you baby,” Harry pecked her and pulled out. “Mmmmm… I love you too,” she replied. They stripped from the rest of their robes too and Ginny put on the gown. It was a low cut navy blue gown with thin straps. It had a long, a-line skirt with a high slit on the side. It had a pearl detailing at the waist. It hugged her body perfectly. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off. He also looked handsome white trousers, with a white blazer, navy blue shirt and white bow. Ginny grinned at him menacingly and bent down to take off her white lace panties. She cupped her underwear and slid it into Harry’s hand. “Just something to think about.” she grinned and they stepped out of the changing room with a whine from Harry. “Took you too long enough.” Hermione said at once as she looked at the two of them. They had mussed hair and swollen lips, but they both looked entirely too pleased. Hermione knew what they had been upto, but she didn’t mention it. “This is what we are wearing! We both love it!” Ginny said, her voice now happy and uplifting. “These minxes,” Ron muttered under his breath, rewarding him with a hard nudge from hermione. The way everyone looked at Harry and Ginny, kinda proved that they knew too… The awkward stares didn’t end until they went back and changed into their original clothes and sat back down.

#hinny fluff #harry and ginny smut #hinny smut #harry potter #ginny weasley #post war hinny #domestic hinny #harry x ginny

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rosequartzwriting · 3 years

Text

Green and Gold

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: During a visit to Asgard, Stephen is protective over you since Loki always seems to not be able to take his eyes off you.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Originally posted to Quotev / I like this one :3

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

The frantic rainbow lights disappeared and you stumbled to get your balance on the solid ground that you were thrown on. Stephen was there to help steady you, at hand at your waist with the other at the ready to prevent you from falling over. You wondered why you all could not just travel here through a slingring portal. But Thor insisted you take the Bifrost. To 'get the experience' he had said before he called for it. The knowing smirk on Stephen's face in that moment told you that you might regret this.

In little time you found yourself in Asgard.

Stephen would come here occasionally to discuss relations between mystical threats and threats to the realms. You came along this time. You wanted to see Asgard, Thor wanted you to come along, but Stephen was hesitant to let you come. He told you that someone needed to watch over the Sanctum while he was gone, you made Wong do it instead. He said Asgardian magic is hard to understand, you reminded him that you were advanced now in your mystical studies that you could keep up. He said that it would only be a night or two, you said that you did not want him to leave you for a night or two.

You won and had convinced him. So now you were at the entrance of Asgard, having just experienced being magically thrown across the universe with possible whiplash and your lunch threatening to come up.

Thor, holding his beloved hammer in one hand, looked over at you. "What did you think, Lady (Y/N)?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick." You mumbled.

Stephen patted you on the back, "You'll be alright." There was a slightly amused tone in his voice and that gave you a sudden urge to kick him in the shins.

You had ended up in the middle of a room that was golden and shaped like a dome. There were circular patterns on the walls and in the centre golden steps that lead to a little pedestal that held a sword. Someone was holding that sword, and you were introduced to Heimdall who was the protector of the Bifrost. He bowed to you like you were important and you returned with a bow of your head. Just outside the room, you could see the bridge sparkling with the same rainbow colours as the way you had gotten here. Beyond the long bridge was the castle in the distance.

Thor gestured for you to follow him, so you fell into step beside Stephen as you exited the small structure. You were now walking on the Bifrost bridge. The view you saw before you was absolutely breathtaking. The glittering bridge was just the beginning. Underneath it was a roaring river of clear water. The palace was beautiful, the structure standing as tall as the mountains in its background. The buildings of the surrounding city were sparkling everywhere. You have seen so much since becoming a sorcerer, but this was something else.

Stephen saw the smile on your face and the look of awe in your eyes. This made him smile, and he was suddenly glad he brought you here. He always loved showing you new things, fueling your curiosity and experiencing new things with you. But there was a little worry in the back of his mind that would not go away.

There was one reason, above all others, that Stephen did not want to bring you along.

Loki would be here.

He hated the way he looked at you. He hated his very being because of it. And the knowledge that you and him would be in the same place made his blood boil. Ever since that time Loki showed his face in New York and he had to take him to prevent him from doing anything, and he looked at you up and down like that, he disliked the god so much. And he was so nice to you, and you were nice to him. Whenever Stephen went to Asgard and ran into Loki, he would ask about you. Stephen did not like it.

But your reaction to the city and planet, and you had just gotten here, made the worry go away a little. He would be by your side anyways, to keep Loki away if he was going to try anything. He would throw the cloak around your shoulders to have it hide you away if he needed to. But at the moment he focused on being with you for your first impressions of Asgaurd and not worry too much.

~~~

You were awoken by a light touch and someone softly shaking you awake. The sleepiness was not shaken however, you groaning in protest as you cuddled up even more into the covers of the soft, silken sheets and thick comforter.

There was a chuckle and you new who it was from the deep tone. You lazily opened your eyes and saw Stephen looking down at you, already dressed and seeming wide awake. The sun was shining through the large window with the beautiful view of Asgard. It looked like the world was awake, but you were not ready to drag yourself out of bed.

"I have the first meeting this morning. Thought maybe you would want to come along but looks like you don't want to get out of bed."

You simply let out another sleepy groan.

Then you did a double take, noticing what he was wearing.

He had on his Cloak of Levitation, but underneath that was something different. He had swapped out his regular blue robes for an Asgardian version. It was made in a different style, but it still resembled his old robes. The blue was more rich in its colour, more royal and regal looking. The wrappings were lined with a golden fabric on the edges, it went really well with his signature red and blue. It was a very stark contrast between the one you were used to seeing him wear verse this new one. But you loved it. Seeing all the beautiful clothing everyone wore here made you happy, and seeing a piece like that on Stephen was astonishing.

"You like it?" He caught you staring.

"I love it," You said groggily but happily, running a hand through your hair and sitting up in the bed.

Straightening the cloak over his shoulders, he leaned over and kissed you on your forehead. "I should head to the meeting now. We'll be done before lunch." With that he left your shared guest room, closing the large door behind him.

You wanted to fall back asleep, but it did not overtake you. It was one of those moments where you just laid there cause you were already awaken. But you wanted to sleep. But you couldn't. So you stared out the window, looking out at the pretty mountain peaks and wondering what that first meeting was about. You also wondered about the other things you were going to do while on this foreign planet. Tour of the scenery, trying more of that delicious food (you were dying over it last night at dinner), learning about its history. Maybe you would learn a little Asgardian magic while you were here. The idea of that gave you a little excitement.

A little while later, while you were lost in a daydream, there was a knock on your door. You got up and grabbed a silk robe that was on a chair by your bedside. "Come in," You said, wrapping and tying the robe over yourself. Two women came through the door, maids of the castle you assumed.

One was holding a pile of neatly folded up fabric in her hands. You got excited.

The two introduced themselves and said that Frigga sent them to wake you and get you ready for breakfast. Since the meeting was going on between Odin, Stephen, Thor, and a few others, Frigga decided to have a little breakfast gathering for you. The women were so sweet, making small talk and asking you about Midgard as they prepared you a hot bath and did your hair in a fancy braid down your back that resembled a French braid.

The moment you were anticipating soon came, and they helped you get dressed.

The dress you were presented with was a deep forest green with golden embellishments. Silk fabric sat in long layers down the skirt, trailing out longer at the back. The neckline did not dive too deep down your chest, just enough for subtlety. The short sleeves clung to the sides of your upper arms, shoulders exposed above the folded layers. The gold piece wrapped around your waist as a belt helped bring out the details. The length slightly dragged on the floor, looking elegant and glittering in the sunlight. You felt like an Asgardian princess wearing it.

It reminded you of someone. Then you wondered who had picked it...

One of the girls topped off your look with a golden pin in your hair, shaped like a flourishing lily tucked above your right ear. The two admired their work and you thanked them from the bottom of your heart. The girl you saw in the mirror was so different then yourself. You saw an Asgardian goddess, not a sorcerer.

You asked them for directions after thanking them a second time, knowing you would get lost in the giant palace. They told you where to go, curtsying to you as a goodbye. You did it back, pulling up the fabric of your dress to feel a little more into it. With one last look in the mirror, and pulling your shoulders back, you made your way out of your guest room and down the correct hallway.

You were directed to a drawing room that was down a tall staircase and a few doors to your left. There was a guard in front of the wooden door, but upon seeing you he bowed and held it open for you. The room inside was not too large, but the big open window gave the impression that it was. Decorated just as nicely as the rest of the place, this room was no exception to the royal aspect and medieval aesthetic to the palace. There were a few comfy chairs surrounding a low table, where Frigga greeted you with a warm smile.

Sitting in the seat beside her was Loki. You had not seen him yesterday when you had arrived. This made you wonder why he had not said hello to you then along with everyone else. He also was not at dinner last night. Weird. He held a tea cup in one hand as he leaned back in his chair, cradling its saucer in the other hand. Seeing Loki sipping tea from a pretty cup with his pinky finger jutting out was a different sight, a contrast to his darker persona you knew was hidden beneath.

You hugged Frigga, which she insisted on, and you sat down with them. You all chatted over breakfast and you sparking up conversation with Loki was a little awkward at first, but once you opened up a little it flowed easily. The tea was amazing and the little pastries laid out on nice platters were absolutely delicious. Frigga asked about your magic skills, and you both began to exchange stories about magic. You had a great time and you were glad you got out of bed for this. Soon Frigga had some business to take care of and had to cut this little gathering short.

When you left Loki caught up with you in the hallway.

"It has been a while since we have seen each other, Lady (Y/N)."

A lot of the people here were calling you that. And people you did not even know knew your name, which always kind of threw you off for a second or two. That told you that you were known here, from either Thor or Stephen talking. The whole 'Lady' thing was out of respect you assumed, and you did not mind.

"It has." You replied as you both walked down the hall together, "It was nice to see you again, Loki."

"How are you liking it here?" He asked with a smile.

"I love it!" You beamed, "It's beautiful, the food is amazing," You then gestured down to the dress you were wearing, "and the clothes are stunning."

He chuckled, "Green looks good on you."

"Easy for you to say, it's your favorite."

"No no," He sputtered, and you thought he looked a little...flustered? "You genuinely look beautiful in green."

A little heat ran up to your cheeks. "Oh, thanks."

There was a balcony up ahead where you saw sunlight streaming in. You picked up your pace to go look out of it, Loki right behind you. It was overlooking the back of the castle, where you could see a beautiful garden down below, before the landscape stretched out into more of the city and the mountains beyond.

For a second or two you wondered what was past those peaks. If the planet simply stopped there, or if there were forests or towns or lakes or anything else that you wanted to discover. This whole place was full of beauty and the idea that there was a possibility for more was just a little overwhelming. But you loved it.

"I'm happy you like my home." Loki leaned on the railing, looking out at the city with you. "Although it was not always considered my home."

"What do you mean?" You asked. You noticed a sadness in his eyes now.

"You know my history."

At that moment you realized what that sadness was. Probably memories flashing through his mind. You did know his history. Lied to all his life, being overcome by the sadness and anger and wrath and desire for revenge. You knew what that lead to, the New York event and everything that came with and after that. Right now, he was allowed freedom back in his home for 'rehabilitation' of sorts, offered a second chance. Not knowing what that was like, you could not relate, but you knew he had gone through pain. It was even painful to see it in his eyes.

"So do you consider it home again?" It was all you could think of to say.

He shook his head in a light nod after a second to think, the look on his features exchanged for one with a small smile. A weird thought crossed your mind, you had not seen Loki smile this much before.

The two of you stood there looking out at the city below, watching the people of Asgard go about their days. It was a calm silence that fell, not a line of tension or heavy weight of awkwardness at all. Just a calm.

"Hey," Loki said out of nowhere, and you turned your head to look at him as he spoke up, "your outfit is missing something."

You raised an eyebrow at him, coming off as almost sarcastic. "Oh?"

A smirk sneaked up on his face and you knew he was going to do something. You braced yourself for whatever it might be, good or bad or a mix of both. With a flicker of green magic, an object materialized in his hands. It was his helmet, shining gold with the curved horns. It was so polished that you could see your reflection in it.

Then he was holding it out to you.

"Oh no, I couldn't."

Loki cocked his head to the side and shrugged with a smile, again with the smiling, "Why not?"

A pause, you did not say anything because you had nothing to say. Something about it was very tempting, but it also felt forbidden. Like if you were to put it on you would be overcome by some spell or just a wave of emotion. Or just the thought of wearing something that was considered 'crown-like', because you were not royalty or a goddess or someone with high power. But it was all calling your name, with a glint of gold.

"I insist." Loki added.

After another moment's pause, you let him put the helmet into your hands. It was lighter than you expected it to be, with pure gold usually being heavy. Probably not made of pure gold then. Just a trick of the eye.

Without waiting anymore, you slowly rested the helmet on your head. Right away you noticed it was a little big on you. It was not made to fit your head, obviously, but you felt something while wearing it. Maybe honour, or pride. Or maybe just pure 'slyness', the same energy that Loki often channeled.

"Looks good." Loki beamed.

"I'm dressed like you," You snapped jokingly, "that's why you think I look good."

He laughed and you did too. Maybe I should wear more green, you told yourself.

As you both continued to watch the city below and make small talk, from down the hall you could hear footsteps. Maybe guards or other people of the palace, you presumed. But as they approached, they got louder. And they got quicker. Heavy boots, you deduced. But suddenly they stopped.

"Nice view."

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Stephen had suddenly appeared right beside you. So those were his footsteps. You had not expected him to be out of the meeting for another while, but there he was. Him and that damn short-range teleportation spell he just loved to use for some reason. There were too many instances of him appearing out of nowhere back home and it resulted to you being more jumpy nowadays. He had positioned himself between you and Loki you noticed. Loki looked just as surprised as you were, the trickster being tricked.

"Where did you come from?" Loki scowled

"Down the hall." He answered blankly. You stiffed a laugh at his demeanor, sly and confident, when realization hit you that those were aspects of his jealous and protective side coming out. Oh boy, here we go...

"I'm surprised you're out of bed," Stephen looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, which made you chuckle. You saw a tiny twitch in the corner of his eye, and something told you that it had something to do with the god opposite you and the headpiece you were now wearing.

Stephen reached forward and gently lifted the gold helmet off your head, care in his eyes and shaking fingers. Once it was off, he (not so subtly) aggressively threw it at Loki's chest who stumbled to catch it, all trace of gentleness gone. Loki gave him a mock offended look, but Stephen's own hard expression was not phased. Your eyes quickly darted between the two, seeing the tension that had now thickened the air.

"Should't you be at a meeting with Odin?" Loki said. You noticed he did not say my father.

"Oh we finished early," Stephen replied in a light tone, trying to one-up the god while bringing out his ego's confidence. "we're having another one this evening however."

Loki looked like he did not know what to do, which made an amused smile spread across the sorcerer's face. Then he straight up asked, monotone voice dropping to sound flat and serious, "Why was she wearing your helmet?"

"Because...it matches her outfit?" The god struggled to find and answer only to come up with a question instead.

"Yea, sure." Stephen mumbled, "Wonder where she got that outfit."

"Some palace maids dressed me," You chimed in, but it felt like you were invisible at the moment. There was too much testosterone in the air that was covering your existence, which made you roll your eyes.

"Green and gold are nice colours." Loki said while trying to sound convincing and innocent.

"Coincidence she's wearing them?" Stephen shot back, suspicious.

"I had nothing to do with it, Strange."

"Oh sure."

"Oh my god." You slumped against the railing and rested your face in your hands. The two went on to snap at each other and argue for a little, but it felt like an eternity. after a period of you just standing there listening helplessly, the heat started to die down.

"If you'll excuse me, Sorcerer Supreme," Loki enunciated Stephen's title like it was a forbidden word, "I should be headed to attend some business."

He tried to walk off but Stephen cut him off, "Oh what kind of business do you have to do?"

"Business that does not require a mere mortal sorcerer to stick his clever nose into!"

"Well, it looked like it was no more important then taking my girl somewhere to be alone with!" The low rumble in his voice made it a little more threatening.

With that, Loki rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. And he walked away without another word, flipping his helmet over in his hands before jabbing it on his head with visible frustration.

"Well that was a show." You said, having stood there watching the whole thing like it was a theater drama.

Stephen shrugged, "I try my best."

You laughed, "Your jealousy gets to your head."

His facial expression recoiled, "Do you enjoy my jealousy? Do you enjoy his company?"

Your jaw dropped for a second in offence, "God no, why would I enjoy making you upset?" At that you shrugged, "Although it can be amusing."

You felt a pinch on your arm which made you let out a sound of distress. Stephen chuckled, and wrapped an arm around you lovingly as you leaned against the balcony railing together.

"He was just trying to be nice, Stephen."

"I don't think he can be 'nice',"

"He was nice at breakfast,"

"You had breakfast with him?"

"I was with Frigga. He just so happened to be there."

"Okay fine."

You laughed and he gently kissed the top of your head. After a moment of quiet and peace, you felt his softly shaking hand fiddle with the sleeve of your dress, "You look very beautiful."

Blushing, you looked up at him with admiring eyes. His expression mirrored yours. He was still wearing the new robes you last saw him in, the gold linings glittering in the Asgardian sunlight. You were about to say the same thing he said to you, when his expression changed. It was his thinking face.

"What?"

Stephen must have realized something as raised an eyebrow, "There's magic in your dress."

Before you could react, Stephen waved his hand in a quick motion. Suddenly, green waves of energy flowed out of the fabric of your clothes. But they soon changed to orange sparks, Asgardian magic to Earth sorcerer magic. As they flowed over you, the colour of your dress changed. The green was replaced with blue and the gold was replaced with red. There was still a little gold here and there, lining the edges in a familiar way.

"I knew it. He must have tampered with it." Stephen grumbled.

Now your dress mimicked the colours of Stephen's clothes, their original colours. You laughed a little, the person who made your clothes thought they were clever. But also Loki thought he was clever to change it to his colours. You wondered when and why he did that, but you shrugged it off and instead admired the dress in this new perspective.

"That's better." Stephen said, a little proud of himself for some reason.

"I like this more." You giggled.

"Me too."

The dress felt lighter and the fabric shined a little more. It was made for you, perfectly tailored to your body and with the perfect colours to match. It was perfect. And it reminded you of him so it made it all the more special. If they would not let you keep it, then you are just going to bring it home with you anyways.

"Well since the meeting was cut off early, lunch is not for another half an hour or so. What should we do till then?"

"Well~" You drew out, a smile creeping up your face, "I was looking at the gardens from here and I wouldn't mind going to see them."

Stephen smiled. He offered his elbow to you, "Then do you care for romantic stroll, Lady (Y/N)?" He put on his best English accent (which was surprisingly flawless), his naturally low voice making it all the more amusing.

With a giggle, you took his arm. Together you made your way through the castle in a swish of red and blue fabrics.

"Although," Stephen started as you both made your way down the last set of stairs that lead to the ground floor, "you did look good in the green. Even though I hate to admit it."

"Hate to admit it?" You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well it was Loki's trickery, but you look good regardless. As always."

#doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #loki #loki laufeyson #sorcerer supreme #reader insert #reader #x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Right Hand Woman | Part Two

Summary; your father is dead, just as you and Loki had planned. All that stands in the way of your reign over both the Cold Shores and Asgard, is your partner’s one eyed adopted parent.

Warnings; mentions of death, deception, brief smut (oral sex, fem receiving), attempts of murder

QUICK LINK TO MY MASTERLIST, IN CASE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN READING MORE OF MY CRAP 😬

Frigga frowned, suspecting something the moment that she caught Loki sneaking into her and Odin’s chambers. It was not wise to trust the boy so easily, whilst she felt tremendous love towards her found son, he was the god of mischief.

And so she watched him from the corner, cloaked by her own witted spell, and studied how he rummaged through the room. “Damn you father!” He whisper shouted to himself, and that was whence his witch of a mother made her presence known.

A soft yet malleable frown cast over Loki’s sly features, as he gulped inherently. “What is it that burdens you my boy?” If only she knew the full extension of the answer to that, but he would not curse her with the details.

“Odin.” That was how he labelled him as; the king. Not his father. “The man that you are wedded to has hidden the book of counsel once again from me. If I wish to be a husband, then I must read and study its contents, for it is not everyday that anyone from the nine realms marries a god.”

With relief indulging her airway, Frigga sighed. At least he was searching for something worthwhile, rather than an item or clue that could get him in attentive trouble.

“Loki.” His name surpassed the barrier of her bewitched lips, earning her child’s attention. “I shall find it for you, but be aware that there is no rush to become one with y/n so soon. It is certain that she is still experiencing the shock and mourning of her father.”

An inclination to smirk at the mention of the dead man arose in Loki’s chest, however he kept his face mute of amusement, and instead, looked up at his favourite parent. She knew, as he noticed his inclination to spill all, that he was holding a secret close to his chest. But he had never been one to be entirely truthful, and so instead of berating him about it, she left him alone.

“I suppose.” He didn’t. It was a white lie in his eyes, but a vast one in the eyes of his family, with the sorrow pent up in y/n. She was far from sad, rather, he was the only one that could see how truly joyous she was concerning the fall of her father.

The small spilt tears were a lie, all to deceive the Odinson tree. Thor was certainly the most gullible of all when witnessing it, he would order the guards to abandon their duties to go and fetch her something to dry her eyes on, and if they were not fast enough, he would do the job himself.

It was truly a sight to behold though as Odin would nurture her with caring phrases, and lay a comforting hand upon her slunk shoulder, praising her for having some sense.

Loki’s family knew that it had been difficult, protecting herself whilst in the meanwhile wearing her father’s blood upon her hands. It showed her loyalty to the youngest of Odin’s sons, and that was what they wanted in a dame.

“That poor girl.” Frigga reminisced all that she had heard regarding the death of the opposing king, that had once been an ally. “Killing her own father, it must have come with some difficulty.”

The man was assured that there had been none, y/n had wanted to do such amends in a great long time. However, she had to wait for the perfect moment, so that Odin could be blessed of the sight of her above her father’s carcass.

“Perhaps, but it has shown me how perfect she is for marriage material. We aren’t even combined into one yet, and she has already proven her loyalty, presenting that she has the same image for Asgard and the Cold Shores in her peripheral.”

His mother, whom was married into the line of the throne, sighed. She felt great pity for y/n, for she felt torn; but ultimately, chose herself over her father’s selfish wishes. And through his actions, y/f/n had broken the contract and his own blessing of allowing Loki to take her hand.

The same image. If there was one thing that Frigga had nervous thoughts about, it was Loki, and his problematic situation in wanting the throne. But to the dismay of the trickster god, it was promised to his brother Thor; the real heir of Odinson royalty. And though Frigga adored Loki as though he were her own son, because essentially he was, her trust in him regarding his hunger to rule Asgard was thin, like a silver platter.

Y/n sat, pondering her decisions. She liked Odin, despite him being like all kings, even if he had turned over a new leaf in the latest centuries. He had adorned the rivers of Valhalla with bloodshed, passing through the nine realms with his weapon unsheathed, pooling blood so that in return he could take the gold that the men and women harboured so slyly.

Her father had done the same thing, but he had been much more humble regarding his lifestyle. A grand and glorious display of buildings had not been considered necessary in y/f/n’s rich eyes. Instead, he opted to remain vigilant, living in hoisted tents, so that he had the freedom to move him and his people about as he pleased.

But he had wanted to depart from his only child, in order to gain another ally, but in doing so, he had lost that trust with Asgard. And now she was the heir of his ruins, but she had left with the man that had reckoned pain upon his people for his treachery.

The only thing that was left in their plan, was to kill Odin. It was rather simple thinking of it, however proceeding to do so would be a far different story. And first, so that their power was in conjunction, her and Loki needed to marry. She found no problem in doing so, especially since it was one of her greatest desires to do so already.

She was laid beneath the sheets of the guest room that was supplied to her, adorned in nothing but her underwear. One feature of her icy homelands that she was used to was the cold. Here, it felt so warm, she felt enclosed by the heat; trapped even.

As a child, she often wore a red nose, hardly feeling the end of it, as snow would balance upon it, and fall around every inch outside of her tent. But in Asgard, a place that she had visited many a time, she was sweltering. A part of her feared that it was a flaw granted by karma, for killing her father.

There was some truth to her lies; he had wanted her to wed another that was not Loki, but she didn’t tell him of whom, knowing that he would grown furious and insecure, and surely take everything that he was feeling out on her competing suitor.

However, she had deceived his father as well, made Odin believe that he was trying to pass y/n onto another kingdom. Instead, y/f/n had been talking of with his lower level colleagues, that he was considering Thor as a replacement for the sorcerer prince.

That was an idea that she was not fond of. Whilst she got along well enough with Thor, she loved Loki, it was simple as that. And she was against anyone, even if it be family, trying to rip apart the contract of her childhood dream; to wed the sneaky, yet charming prince.

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as knuckles rapped on the display of double doors, that lead into the room that she was currently occupying. “You may enter.” She informed whomever was wishing to see her on the other side, the door groaning open as a sleek and fetching man entered.

Loki made sure to close the barricade behind him, walking closer to his future wife with purpose in each step that he instructed. “Beloved y/n...”

“Did you find it?” She asked, referring to the last piece to fill in their mystical puzzle. Her brow quirked, watching as her to be husband exasperatedly sighed, combing a talented hand through his long black locks.

“No, but my mother has taken upon herself to aid us in doing so.” His green and keen eyes looked down upon her, gently hoisting her to be on her feet by a carefully tugging on her arm.

“This needs to be sped up my love, otherwise they will catch onto our intentions before we can complete them.” Y/n tried to pace, however, Loki kept a grip on her, refraining her from doing so. And so she was kept right before him, in a face to face manner, frozen like the ropes of water by her original home and his birth place.

“Relax for a moment, there needn’t be a rush.” Loki cooed at her, brushing through her hair with an underlying content. “To distract you, I am here, and I will do anything to remove your mind from all that troubles you.”

He lightly pushed down one of her shoulders, making her fall elegantly back on the bed, her bare breasts bouncing as she fell. Loki licked his lips at the sight, raking his cold fingertips up her thighs, parting them to his will. “Did you know that it was me that had intention to pester you at this time, or were you prepared to allow any nimble soldier see you so- so open for their unworthy pupils to devour?”

“I knew it was you Loki.” She rolled her y/e/c eyes, resting on her forearms on the fresh fabric, that rubs tenderly against her skin. “Otherwise, I’d have not answered, making them search the grounds for me until they persisted you with having an inability to find me.”

“Little minx.” Loki smirked, rubbing softly on the insides of your thighs. He crept closer, collapsing between y/n’s spread legs, rutting his covered cock over the promise that came with marriage. “I cannot wait for us to bind together in an established union, that will be recognised by all, and we will never be mistake for a pair of lovesick fools ever again.”

“And when we reign, all will know that we are not to be reckoned with.” Y/n reached up, guiding his hands lower. “But until then, I want you to ruin me, until I am screaming loud enough for all the habitants in nearby rooms to hear.” Her eyes were glazed, Loki licked his lips as he swept down, casting his mouth passionately upon hers.

His raven tendrils swayed around them like a curtain, enclosing their faces in an intimate proximity. Whilst his mouth explored her own, content sighs renegading from his lover’s busy mouth, his hands slipped down, finding penance at her waist.

They traced the outline of her underwear, teasingly moving underneath the sides, making y/n flutter with anticipation. Her cheeks grew warm as she looked down at her partner in treachery, letting out a startled gasp whence he ripped the seams, discarding of the useless material.

He ran his slippery, cursing lips up her leg, tracing them sensually around the budding lips of her pussy. Y/n nestled her head into the comfort below, watching with Loki with dazed eyes, that were heavily plagued by the dreariness of her lids.

“By the gods!” In an instant, he had suctioned his mouth around her entirety, suckling with his cat like pupils boring up at his lover in ecstasy. He always got what he wanted, and he would marry this princess, and then, their journey throughout royalty would continue.

The occasion had finally arrived. Odin stood at the centre of the platform, between the two lovers. With gratitude to his mother Frigga, Loki sent her a pleased nod, before once more tuning his attention back onto his lovely fiancé.

All of Asgard watched dearly from below, holding onto their kings every word as he spoke the age old coronation into a pairing’s vows. His speech was slow, and it made y/n slightly antsy.

She wanted to marry Loki, and despite going through the prior orchestration of doing so, she wanted nothing more than for the process to speed itself up. But she remained silent, and apparently patient to all that stared with fawning smiles.

It wasn’t everyday that the royals were wed, and the citizens of the plain were in for a treat. It was something that was viewed sparingly, for their children that would be procreated in the distant future would hear tales of such a collision of two people, not actually baring witness to the ongoing.

Odin cleared his ancient throat, folding the scroll back into its exterior, and declared the emission and final act. “Y/n, of the cold shores, do you take my son, Loki, to be your partner for as long as you live?”

“I do, King Odin.” Her childhood dreams were being brought to light, after all this time. They had waited a thousand years for this exact moment, and every second that she had thought and not acted on it had been essentially worth it.

Loki stood across from her, their hands intertwined in the space between their bodies. There was a glimmer sparkling in his devious eyes, and y/n gulped at the sight of it. As happy as she felt, there was a brewing in the pit of her stomach, for she knew the god far too well.

“Loki, of Asgard, do you take the woman before you, y/n, to be your wife for your eternity?” The green eyed prince smiled across at her, giving her shaking fingers a comforting squeeze.

“I do, father.”

“Then, you may kiss your partner to seal the vow.” Y/n had an exhausting smile pinching her cheeks, and as Loki swiftly removed his hands from her own, she moved closer.

But that look had returned, and before she could stop him, he had slipped a blade out from his sleeve, and directed its spear tip towards Odin. This was not the time or the place for the violence, but the deed was done; they were exposed.

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ivy-goldrush · 3 years

Text

Wednesdays Are The Worst

Dumb things have dumb consequences.

Warnings: Grumpy!Bucky, Bucky being a dick, Angst, Eventual smut?, Slow Burn fic, Maybe a touch of jealous!Bucky, 18+ cause swearing

Word Count: 1633

It had been a week since the movie night, with your week being uneventful. On the Tuesday you walked into work met with the smell of peaches, finding out Bucky had been in on Monday and dropped them off, so Mary got to baking with them. Thankful that he had come in when you weren’t working, avoiding any type of awkward encounter.

You only had two shifts this week Tuesday and Wednesday, and then you weren’t in again till Thursday, giving you just over a week off. Thursday was spent running around and doing your food shop however on Friday, you had the definition of a Lazy day. You had messaged Steve a couple of times, but he was busy with work and was doing a lot of overtime. Wanda and Vis were out of town for the weekend visiting friends back home. Maria gad said that she was spending a long-awaited weekend with her girlfriend. You weren’t that close with Sam and Clint yet to hang out with them, meaning you and Nat had decided to spend Saturday night together.

The two of you had decided to go and hit the clubs for a much needed ‘get lose’ session. Nat had suggested that you get ready around hers so you left yours at half 4 in your comfy clothes and a bag of tonight’s outfit and makeup.

Her place wasn’t exactly walking distance to you, so you planned to take the train as it was only a couple of stops and then a ten-minute walk. The train journey was uneventful, and you ended up listening to music for the journey and the short walk to the apartment. By the time you had made it to her apartment, it was a few minutes past 5. Nat opened the door and immediately engulfed you in a hug, practically squeezing the life out of you.

For only knowing each other a short amount of time, the two of you got along like a house on fire. It was as if the two of you had known each other for your entire life, both having a very similar sense of humour.

Nat had already ordered Chinese for you two each whilst getting ready, along with a very large glass of wine. You quickly got down to getting ready, talking during the process.

“So, y/n, what are you wearing tonight?” Nat shot the question whilst she was focusing on her makeup, as you were taking your clothes out of your bag. “This!” You exclaimed as you span around holding an emerald green satin dress with a drape neck. Nat let out a wolf whistle as she laid eyes on the dress, looking it up and down. “Dam, that’s one hell of a dress. No doubt you’ll be the best dressed there.” Laughing at her comment, you sat down in front of the mirror next to her focusing on your makeup.

The makeup was simple, an everyday base, a slight natural smoky eye, eyeliner and a red lip. Leaving your hair in its curly state, as it cascades down your back, deciding to focus on jewellery pairing the outfit with some simple plain gold rings, a dainty gold bracelet and your gold detailed locket.

Nat’s makeup featured a slightly heavy smoky eye, bronzer and a dark lip. Her short hair was pin straight, framing her face. The only jewellery that she donned was a thick silver chain resting closely to her neck. She was wearing a tight black bodycon with black Louboutin’s and she looked absolutely breath-taking. You quickly slipped on your dress and gold heels, clutching your small matching bag, you took one last look in the mirror.

The both of you were wined, dined and dressed by 6pm, and out the door by quarter past. The two of you walked in tandem, arms linked and giggles erupting from you, as you made your way to one of Nat’s most frequented clubs. You were thankful that she was a regular because it meant that you were able to skip the queue that trailed beside the building.

Upon entering the club, you were met with the heavy base of music, shouting and neon lights. Nat immediately dragged you to the bar at the back of the club and plopping you onto a bar stool. Before you knew it drinks were placed in front of you two, appreciating the liquid courage as you swallowed it down, proceeding to do the same with several others.

Time was flying by and soon enough you had dragged Nat out onto the dance floor. Your bodies were swaying back and forth to the base on the songs, letting yourselves get lost in the moment and in a sea of people. You felt someone place their hand on your waist, trying to pull you back into them. Your eyes snapped open and your senses were on full alert as you quickly spun around, whipping yourself out of the person’s grasp. You were met, face to face, with some sleazy guy who wore an amused expression and from where you were you could practically smell the alcohol on the guy. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing, you playing hard to get.” The words were slurred and the man stumbled as he tried to get closer to you, prompting you to move further away from him, when he grabbed a hold of your arm. “Get the fuck off of me.” The words were spat as you stared directly into the man's eyes. His grip was persistent as you clasped your hand around his wrist, digging your nails into his skin in an attempt to draw blood. You held his gaze as you proceeded to raise your knee but before you could even carry out your attempt at kneeing him, he was shoved backwards, grip on your arm falling. He was currently being towered over by another guy. “I suggest you get the fuck outta here before I beat your ass.” Full of anger was present in his voice and you swore that if you weren’t surrounded by people, he would be beaten to a pulp right now. The new guy turned half around, showing you his face as he spoke to someone behind you. “Sam?” Your voice was hardly audible within the club.

All of a sudden, you felt yourself being lifted up and pulled out of the dance floor, leaving Sam to deal with the creep. You brought to the bar and gently placed down, allowing you to spin around to see who had taken you out of the situation. “What the hell, Bucky.” You knew your voice was loud enough for him to hear but he just ignored you, talking to the bartender. “Two waters please.” His voice was gruff, he still refused to look at you as he ran a hand through his hair, whilst you threw yours up at him.

As soon as the glasses were placed in front of him, he shoved one into your hand, the other in his. This allowed for Bucky’s free hand to secure a place around your waist, helping guide you in the right direction, but as soon as he tried to move you, you protested. “For fucks sake, doll, move your butt.” His voice was slightly strained as if he was holding back but the angry tone was very much evident. “What are you playing at Bucky?” Your voice was just above a whisper and the only response you got from him was a dramatic eye roll. “My God! Why are you so stubborn!” You made a small protest at his outburst, trying to bite your tongue, but not succeeding. “You know what? Fuck you, Barnes! I was nice to you but you were a complete and utter dick to me, so I'm so sorry that I didn’t give you a warm fucking welcome, but your not exactly rainbows and butterflies when you’re giving me whiplash with the way you behave!” With that you made your way in the direction you were originally heading, chest heaving, with Bucky turning and following suit.

It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at a booth where Clint and Nat were sat talking. Bucky had come to a halt mere centimetres away from you, placing his hand on the small of your back giving you a small push towards them, earning him a muttered “Asshole” from you. The broad man just chuckled and proceeded to whisper in your ear “Fucking brat.”. Instantly, your body turned facing him and you reared yourself back slightly from him, before bringing the glass of water in your hand up and launching the contents at him. You didn’t think you just acted and the result was so worth it. Bucky’s face was dripping wet and his navy and white shirt was soaked. But the expression that was written on his face at first was shock until it turned and clouded into anger. Quickly, you pushed past him muttering that you needed to go to the bathroom.

You hadn’t realised that you had been followed until you heard Nat softly speak. “What happened back there? Are you okay?” The honesty and general concern of her voice was a vast contrast to the truth, uncaring . “I think I’m gonna call it a night, Nat, I’ll just cause more trouble with him, I’ll call myself a cab.” You turned to face the red head with a brave face. “I’m fine honestly, just tired that’s all.” You smiled smally at her. She had agreed to stay with you until the car arrived and walked you out to say goodbye. Soon afterward, you were seated in the cab and shortly on your way home. Naïvely hoping that things would just settle down on their own.

Taglist (Open, message to be added!)

@tonystankschild @angstysebfan @tanyaherondale @justab-eautifulmess @sunflowerbunny2 @yesfanficsaremylife @agos-505 @vicmc624 @brnel58 @ilovefood2165 @cc12-02 @lgbtomatoes @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @pspice639 @iheartsebandchris @photographyandcoffee @yourmomhahagetit @yippikaiyaymotherfucker @xoxonotme @stephiecake03 @daughterofthemoon92 @sourpatchspinster @rowenaravenclaw2-blog @weirdowithnobeardo @juliesland

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes series #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #sam wilson #vision #wanda maximoff #nat romanoff #maria hill #clint barton #tfatws #caatws #wednesdays are the worst #watw series

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mostly-delusional · 3 years

Text

A Kanej diwali fic

"That's the third time you've tugged on your sleeve in the same minute and it's setting me on edge for no particular reason."

Kaz halted his movements, his right hand hanging in mid-air as he was about to fiddle with his sleeve, unrolling and rolling it again. He glanced at Jesper standing beside him and raised his eyebrows.

Jesper continued, "Honestly, Kaz, it's only been a month since you last saw her. It shouldn't be that hard. Besides, you're going to need a lung transplant soon enough if you keep panting like a dog."

Kaz was thoroughly annoyed. He had been occupying the same spot for what felt like hours with Jesper's continuous babble ringing in his ears. The black leather gloves that usually covered his hands were safely tucked away into the pocket of his jacket. Without them, he felt as if he was stripped naked, all his scars put on display for people to gawk at. His clothes were different from what he preferred wearing. The regular white shirt had been replaced by a plain black kurta with a pathan jacket resting above it, the collar of which prickled his neck. The cane's head felt cold under his palm. Everything felt too foreign, too loud and too wrong.

The glittering lights, lavish rugs and sophisticated folk of Ravka were far cry from the sordid streets of Ketterdam, where crimes were committed as effortlessly as breathing. Everything about the land Kaz stood on screamed of elegance and culture. It made him want to hop on a ship and dive back into the mayhem the Barrel had to offer.

Crossing the true see and visiting the land of Grisha hadn't been a choice. Two weeks ago, Kaz had entered his office in the crow club only to be greeted by an envelope sealed with the double eagle of Ravkan royalty. He had contemplated tossing it among the pile of documents he deemed unnecessary, but a blue geranium placed beside it had changed his original course of action. There had been no whispers of the Wraith being in Ketterdam, but it was not a surprise. Inej was like a phantom passing from one world to another, keeping away from notice.

Although, why she had been the one to deliver a message from the king of Ravka was still a mystery to him.

Kaz did not know what he had expected to be in the letter but it definitely wasn't what he had found upon opening it. Apparently, things were getting a little too boring for his royal highness and he felt the need to organise a little "get-together" for all those who had dedicated the previous months in fighting against the Darkling. As it turned out, nothing about the occasion was little.

A multitude of people occupied the halls of the Little Palace for what everyone around him kept calling Diwali. Kaz remembered Inej talking about how she celebrated the festival with her parents and cousins as a child. But that was all he could recall from the day because he'd been too busy trying to count the moles on her neck as she had sat on the window of his office, her head tipped back against the wall. The setting sun had casted a glow around her and Kaz had been unable to look away.

"Where's Wylan?" Kaz asked in hopes of avoiding another rant from Jesper about how exquisite the palace looked or how much money even a single gem from the chandelier hanging above would cost. "Why don't you go and trail after him like a lost puppy, as you usually do?"

Jesper puckered his face into a scowl, his lips forming a pout that made Kaz want to smack his face repeatedly. "You shouldn't be the one to talk about puppies seeing that you almost drool at the sight of Inej. Speaking of which, where is she?"

"If both of you would stop bickering like an old couple, you would have noticed that she entered the room five minutes ago."

Every single muscle in Kaz's body seemed to tense at Nina's words. His eyes scoured the crowd in desperate attempts of catching a glimpse of the one person he'd been dying to set his sight on.

"Let's give the old man some privacy to collect himself or he might drop dead any second." Kaz could practically feel the identical smirks playing on their lips as Nina dragged Jesper away by his arm.

But none of it seemed to matter because as soon as he saw Inej, it felt like someone pumped a gallon of blood through his heart all at once. The voices around him were muffled, separated by an invisible wall, casting him in a shell of peaceful silence as he looked at the girl who raged a storm in his heart ever since she had entered his life.

There, amidst the cacophony of colours formed by the crowd, Inej looked like a diamond shimmering among shards of glasses in a kaleidoscope. Her hair was like waves of pure earth. Half of it was braided over her head like a crown, the rest openly flowed down her back, softly reflecting the light from the chandelier above. His fingers itched to touch them.

She wore a long skirt which was a red as deep as the most luscious wines found only in the highest scale shops of the Lid. It pleated in a million different folds sure to hold a dozen knives, and fell from her waist in a cascading waterfall that brushed her ankles. The pleats danced along her legs as she waded through the sea of guests, occasionally nodding at those she recognised. It appeared as if she hadn’t yet noticed him standing at the border of the hall.

His heart screamed at him to call her name, to make her look at him, but walking under the glittering lights, it looked as if she had just stepped out of a children's storybook about Saints. Regardless of how ridiculous it sounded, he felt that she would disappear if he got close enough. Her eyes were set on her destination— Jesper, Nina and Wylan standing near a table piled with a variety of delicacies. A soft smile played on her lips as she looked at Jesper arguing with Nina about what was better— waffles or the sweets layed out in front of them.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to shield her from the rest of the world and reserve that smile solely for himself.

Stupid Jesper. Stupid Nina. “Let’s give him some privacy.” What was the point of leaving him alone when Inej didn’t even spare him a single glance?

A part of him wanted to march right up to their little group and place himself in the middle, but his stubborn mind willed him to stay put. He watched as they exchanged hugs and smiled at each other. He watched as Inej asked Jesper something and he spinned around to point right at Kaz’s face. He averted his eyes right in time and hurled curses at Jesper under his breath.

Every passing second seemed to escalate his heartbeat, as if both were trying to outdo each other. His heart hammered against it’s cage, threatening to break free from the restraints and bounce off onto the floor. Kaz could sense Inej’s firm gaze on him as the distance between them shortened with every step she took.

"Hello, Kaz."

Inej had come to stand right in the line of his sight so that he had nowhere else to look apart from her. And saints did he want to keep looking at her.

Kaz let his eyes take in every detail of her face. Her bronze skin had become an even deeper shade after all the time spent at the sea and he wanted nothing more than to cup her face in his hands, caress her cheeks and make sure she was real. Her eyes were lined with kohl and some kind of golden powder covered her lids.

In those brown eyes was the warmth of an everlasting hearth, the laughter of childhood memories, the pride for what she had accomplished in the last few months alone, and there was affection. The way she looked at him made him feel like a broken vase being mended by that gaze alone.

He knew he was supposed to say something to her. Tell her that she looked beautiful. That ever since she had stepped foot in this room—in his life— he had hardly been able to breathe. That if she had willed it, Kaz would have gladly gotten down on his knees and swore his devotion to the saints she now looked so alike. But his mouth and mind never seemed to coordinate.

"Didn't expect I'd see you here." A lie. The only reason Kaz had even considered being a part of the celebration was that he knew Inej was staying in Os Alta to spend some quality time with Nina and Matthias.

From the smile on her face, Kaz suspected she knew he was lying but to his immense relief, she decided to change the subject.

"The aarti is about to begin, let's go." She nodded towards the huge double doors opening into the sweeping grounds and the groups of people leaving through them.

"To my best knowledge, there isn't a temple in or around the Little Palace."

"There wasn't. King Nikolai got one built after Zoya insisted." Inej adjusted the golden dupatta pinned to the shoulder of her blouse so that it covered her palm. With her hand safely enveloped, she grabbed hold of Kaz's wrist and started heading towards where the temple was situated.

The warmth emanating from her palm seeped through the thin fabric and sent shivers up his arm. The water was at bay and the ringing in his ears did not echo as usual. He could do this.

They walked through the doors and out into the open air. Kaz took in a deep breath to calm his nerves. A few paces ahead, the rest of the crows were chattering amongst themselves. Jesper's arms were flailing around as he babbled on about something. Beside him, Wylan was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation and trying not to get hit. Nina and Matthias walked arm in arm, the latter jerking his head in every direction, trying to catch a glimpse of all the decor layed out all around. Every few seconds he would point at something and whisper to Nina who would launch into an explanation of whatever he had asked.

"How is Matthias adjusting to all of this?" Kaz shifted his gaze back to the path he was walking on. Inej's hand felt heavy around his wrist, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted her to let go or hold on tighter.

"Not as bad as you'd think. He kind of isolated himself during the first week and avoided all the grishas, except Nina, of course. But it didn't take him long in warming up to Tolya." Inej explained. "However, he still refuses to be in the same room as Zoya, says it'll take him longer to get used to her."

"I can agree on that," Kaz muttered bitterly under his breath. His mind reeled back to the time when he had to work alongside her in order to help Alina destroy the fold.

Inej snorted on hearing his grumbling. "She's not that bad! Once you gain her trust she can be charming."

"I have no intentions of finding that out."

••••••

The temple was built amid the towering trees past the lake, it's white marble glowing amber due to the countless diyas lit all around it. It sprawled among the woods in its beauty, as if the gods themselves had decided to take a day off and stroll among their mortal devotees.

Walking up the steps to the main praying area was almost peaceful and Kaz was struck by the sudden realisation that he wouldn't mind spending an hour or two sitting right here in solitude.

A soft melody drifted from a group of musicians seated beside the huge altar where statues of gods carved out of marble stood. Bells crafted out of bronze hung from the ceiling and the entire interior was lit with hundreds of glowing candles and iron lanterns. Garlands of marigold wreathed around the circular pillars. A priest took his spot at the front of the room as people piled inside.

As the aarti began, Kaz's attention shifted to the girl beside him. Inej had let go of his hand now, her own raised in front of her chest as she joined her plams together to pray. His wrist felt cold without her warmth and he wanted nothing more than to slide closer to her.

His attention was snatched away from her by the beginning of the aarti, but he did not intend to pay any attention to it, not with Inej standing with him. Not with her being the only person he felt like worshipping.

But Inej seemed to have an objection to his plans because she reached out to lift his hands up and join his palms together.

"I know this is the last place you'd like to be in, but it won't take long, I promise."

And how could he resist when she smiled at him like that? Like his mere presence at this occasion was the only source of her joy. So his own beliefs be damned. He would stand here with his hands joined, listening to the priest begin the aarti. He would stand here until his legs started shaking, until he couldn't bear to be upright anymore, as long as it made Inej happy.

Soon, the prayer came to a close and Inej whispered to him, "Close your eyes and make a wish."

"Wh—"

"Just do it."

He couldn't understand how his wishes would come true simply by closing his eyes and muttering what he wanted in his mind. That was not how things worked. But he did what was asked of him regardless of how ridiculous he found it.

Sounds of explosion began ringing from outside and Kaz froze in his spot, his mind automatically shifting into defence. He felt a hand grabbing hold of his arm.

"Relax, it's just the fireworks." Kaz opened his eyes only to find Inej looking at him in amusement, her eyes glinting with delight. With her hand still resting on his, she dragged him outside, her steps hurried and excited.

The sky was littered with colourful specks of gold and green and blue and colors he couldn't be bothered to name. Everyone gathered in the grounds, their heads tilted upwards as something rocketed towards the heavens, soon bursting into a myriad of sparks, casting tiny star-like dots in the open.

Once again, his eyes found her. Kaz's heart skipped a beat as he looked at Inej, her eyes reflecting the stars above. Strands of hair had gotten lose from the crown atop her head and were now swaying with the breeze. He reached out to tuck them behind her ear, his movements catching her attention.

They were close enough that he could see the deep brown of her eyes along with the twinkle of the fireworks reflecting in those orbs. Close enough to see the mole on the right side of her upper lip. Close enough to feel her breath on his face.

"Back in the temple, what did you wish for?" Inej asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twisted up to form a teasing smile. "To bury under a pile of millions of kruge."

Another lie, of course.

What he had wished was for Jesper to find a solution to his gambling addiction and learn to accept his grisha powers. For Wylan to restore his relationship with his mother and build a bright future for himself. For Nina to find peace with her new abilities, because he knew she was struggling. For Matthias to find a way to forgive himself for the actions of his past. For him to build a new life with Nina.

But most of all, he wished for Inej to make a place for herself in the world. For her to live a life where she didn't have to worry about the likes of Tante Heleen anymore. And for him to be worthy enough to be a part of that life.

Kaz was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not see Inej raising her dupatta and covering the lower half of his face. He didn't realise he had zoned out until he felt the warm press of her lips against his cheek. His mind became void of thoughts as he felt his stomach somersault in response. The water was still at bay and whispers of Jordie in his head were silenced.

He pressed his forehead to hers as they stood under the glittering night sky. They were enveloped in each other's presence, the rest of the world frozen in time as Inej tethered Kaz to reality.

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

ROYAL SIN

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.172

Warnings: fluff

Synopsis: On a party, you try to get the attention of a certain Glaive because he is everything you are interested in.

For two hours, you were watching the Glaive that did guard duty during the lame royal ball you had to attend. It was Prince Noctis' birthday and even if he was more absent than present, everyone else had to stay there, having fun. Orders from the King. You wanted to have fun. Just a little bit different than everyone else around you.

So, for a while you tried to find a way to get the Glaive's attention but he seemed to be extremely persistent against your charme. A skill every Glaive had. You knew that. Usually, you treated all guards with the respect they deserved. They were there to protect you and the other members of the royal family. Usually, they worked unnoticed by everyone.

Usually...

But usually, Glaives weren't this extremely handsome. You had met a lot of guards in your life as a royal heir to the throne and yet, this one Glaive was different. He stood out from all the others.

Nyx Ulric was his name. A refugee, coming from Galahd. He wore the Kingsglaive uniform and yet, the typical details of his origin, like the braids in his hair and the small tattoos, were subtly displayed but also proudly represented. He stood there with his hands folded behind his back, tall and honorable, after fighting countless battles against the Imperials.

You knew he got called 'hero', fighting fearlessly against the meanest monsters while looking out for his comrades at the same time. You were sure that this title meant nothing to him. It was just a word, accompanying him like a shadow but disappeared when the light of reality broke through.

You let your eyes roam over his appearance. The shiny metal applications were sparkling in the soft ambient illumination. The warm light of candles got reflected from the polished surface. But all that was nothing compared to the emitted light that came from the man's intense, piercing blue eyes.

You watched him constantly, trying to get his attention just for a split second. You were craving the feeling of his eyes burning on your body. Just for one moment. But like a statue made of stone, he seemed to be unaware of you.

While he seemed to be motionless, composed and under control, you were the complete difference. Since your eyes had landed on him, your mind was busy with wild fantasies how his perfect, full lips would taste. How it would feel when his stubble would brush along your skin when he would kiss you hungrily. And how his greyish hair would feel when you would knot your fingers into it to yank him closer to you.

While you stood at the bar counter, holding a drink in your hand, your attention was fixated on the Glaive with all these thoughts about this man who ignored you completely.

You found an idea to go to him, it was a lame one, but you gulped the rest of your drink before you hurried over to the position of the gruff man, "Glaive!", you called out, loud enough to get his attention and only his, "Please, you have to come with me! There's an emergency!", you said frantically.

Nyx looked concerned at you. The whole evening, he had noticed how you were staring at him. At him, who was just a Glaive. A guard like all the others spread in the room. He was nothing special. Even his Captain reminded him of this fact regularly. He was aware that he was just a refugee, a homeless man, who came to Insomnia to fight against Niflheim because he was in the King's debt. And yet, Nyx got your attention. To see you now in front of him surprised him more than anything else. You addressed him with a problem and his sense of duty demanded from him to help. His sense of duty and the wish to get closer to someone unreachable. He stepped forward, "Your Highness, please, calm down. What happened?", he said serious but softly.

"I have to show you. Please, follow me!", you asked with pleading eyes before you aimed for the exit of the ball room while waving for him to follow you.

Nyx followed you. With your frame in sight, he hurried after you down the hallway to whatever emergency there might be lurking. Different options were popping up in his mind as he considered what problem there could be he had to take care of instead of one of the Kingsguard. The question why you have picked him was the loudest.

You flew down the different hallways of the Citadel, turning left and right ways until you hurried into a room, dragging Nyx after you before you closed the door.

Nyx stood there, watching you locking the door without making any sound before you turned around to close up on the Glaive.

You stopped right under his eyes, looking into these two crystal clear blue orbs, letting your eyes roam over the handsome features with all these small scars of this tall, proud soldier. Softly, you cupped his face, your thumbs were caressing his stubble, softly tracing along the line of his lips before you pulled him down to you. You met his lips longingly, kissing Nyx Ulric strongly for several moments before you loosened the connection again. You leant back just to watch him still enjoying what you have done to him with his eyes still closed.

Nyx considered his next step but he knew what he wanted. He opened his eyes, stepped forward, cupped your face and kissed you strongly with such force that you had to grab into his jacket to keep your balance. He leant back again, staring into your eyes, "We have to stop this, YN. We shouldn’t meet like this all the time.", he breathed before leaning against your forehead, hating himself for saying these things because all he wanted was to be close to you like in all the weeks before.

"You don't really wanna stop that... This ... between us, do you?", you asked with a smile. You already saw the answer in his face but still, you wanted to convince him a bit more, "You don't wanna lose this, right?", you breathed before you kissed along his jawline, letting your lips dance over his beard, kissing down his neck to reach a spot underneath his ear which always made him weak. At that moment, it was the same. You felt it underneath your hands as his heartbeat quickened subtle.

Nyx needed much of his willpower to stay focused, "N-no... I mean, yes! We have to stop... But n-no ... God damnit!", he breathed annoyed that he got defeated by you once again. He grabbed your shoulders to push you against the next wall caging you with his arms before he crashed his lips on yours again.

You snaked your arms around his neck to bring Nyx closer. Nyx Ulric: the Glaive, your lover, your boyfriend. For eight months. He was the one who made your heart skip a bit just with one glance at you. The one who made you swoon with his lips on yours. The one who made you crazy when he kissed you so deeply as if nothing else in the world would matter.

Since the evening had started, Nyx was craving to kiss you because you were undeniably beautiful in your royal attire. Every step you had made was watched by his observing glance even if you hadn't noticed it. Whenever someone talked to you more than just friendly, Nyx became jealous because you were his. And only his. No matter how complicated this situation was, he also couldn't allow someone else next to you.

"Nyx, you really wanna end this?", you asked softly, brushing your nose along his while you enjoyed the iron grip of his hands on your body as he let his hands roam over your back.

"No... You're mine.", he said determined, pulling you closer to him, digging his fingers possessively into the fabric of your attire before he leant his head into the crook of your neck to inhale your alluring scent.

You raked your fingers into his hair to calm him softly. He sounded so desperate because of the whole situation and you just wanted to soothe him again, "I also don't want to end things. But I want to be close to you. I miss you whenever you're not with me.", you breathed what caused Nyx to tighten the grip around you even more.

"God, I miss you, too.", Nyx whispered against your skin before he pressed soft kisses on your neck. He was a dutiful man, sticking to the rules that were set and yet, when he was with you, it went all over board because you were his sin. A royal sin he allowed to himself even if he knew hell would break loose if this would become public.

You knew you brought Nyx into trouble. It could be too easy for the two of you to get caught if you weren't cautious enough and still, you couldn't stay away from him. His kisses were addictive. His eyes were drawing and you just couldn't get enough of his delicious scent, "I love you, Nyx.", you whispered softly.

Nyx froze by your words, his grip became even stronger before he raised his head to look into your eyes to search for a lie, a joke, anything but there was nothing but love for him, "Y-you... You do- what?", he whispered with disbelief before cupping your face gently with his gloved hands.

"I love you, Nyx.", you said one more time with a lovely smile and more meaningfully.

Nyx couldn't respond instead, once again, he kissed you desperately to show you how he felt.

You knew what he wanted to say. He said 'I love you, too' with his lips and that was enough. You didn't have to hear the words from him because Nyx said them in his own way. And this way was far more sweet and amazing than any words he could use. Your pulse quickened by his moves with his savoring lips.

Nyx could be with you like this forever. He always lost track of time when he was with you but then, there was still this small voice in his head that reminded him that he was on guard duty. With much force, he removed himself from your lips, "We should go back. It will get noticed when I'm gone too long."

You sighed sadly, still tasting him on your lips, "You're right, I guess. Alright, we go back. But I will find a way to spend the night with you.", you said with a wink, aiming for the door.

Nyx grabbed your wrist, "We shouldn't go together.", he warned, a concerned expression on his face.

"But we left together. I'm your alibi if someone will say something. Trust me.", you said with a reassuring smile.

Nyx cupped softly your cheek, kissing you even softer one last time, "I trust you. Always."

You leant against his touch before you opened the door to slip out of the room as the hallway was empty. Side by side, you and the Glaive walked back to the throne room so Nyx could go back to his position. You were about to turn away from Nyx as someone appeared from the shadow.

"Glaive! Why have you left your position?", the booming voice of the Captain called out.

"Sir, I was-"

"Captain, I have to apologize. It was my fault that he had to leave his position. I sensed a threat for the prince and so, I ran to the first guard I could find. He just did his job, Sir.", you said calmly with a huge, charming smile.

Captain Drautos looked at you, raising his brows, looked at Nyx who stayed quiet before the Captain looked back at you, "Well, Your Highness, that's uncommon. But was he able to help you?"

You noticed the way he asked this question. It was as if he was looking right through your lie but you just smiled and nodded, "Yes, Sir. His help was very useful. And now, please excuse me, Captain. Glaive, thanks again."

Nyx nodded politely but serious, "It was my pleasure, Your Highness."

You nodded appreciatively before you left the two men alone to go back to the bar for another drink. You turned around just to see how Drautos spoke to Nyx in an intimidating way. You just hoped the Captain had bought your lie and Nyx was out of trouble.

You got your drink the moment the Captain left Nyx alone in his position. Once again, you watched the honorable Glaive who had kissed you so passionately that your world was more colorful like never before. He wasn't looking at you but he didn't have to. You knew you were always in his mind, occupying his thoughts, his sleep, his whole being because this one, special Glaive did the same with you.

#ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #male reader #female reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy nyx ulric #final fantasy xv #final fantasy kingsglaive

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Out of Time [3]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 6079

Warnings: brief mention of smutty concepts, Steve being a sad puppy, subtle pining

When Steve wakes up in the morning, it’s to a feeling he hasn’t felt in a really long time. Warmth, security, and something a little new to him. He feels the gentle weight of your arm over his waist and the flutter of your breath against his collar bone. He almost doesn’t want to open his eyes for the fear that he’ll wake up from this dream.

He counts to ten before blinking his eyes open and his heart nearly stops at the sight before him. Bathed in the morning sun, your hair frames your face like a glowing halo. You look ethereal and serene, lips parted ever so slightly, your face relaxed. It makes him want to grab his sketchbook if he knew that moving wouldn’t wake you.

He settles for tracing over your features with his gaze. Memorizing every detail, so that he might be able to recreate the image later. He doesn’t know what he did right to have this literal angel fall into his lap. He’d almost been certain that he was going to wake up alone in his bed. That last night had been some sort of fever dream.

Yet, here you are. Asleep in his arms. As real as the air in his lungs.

He really doesn’t want to ruin this moment by waking you, but nature is calling and it would be his damn luck to have an accident in bed while a beautiful woman slept next to him. “Vic,” he whispers, not wanting to startle you. However, he says it a little too soft, and you continue to sleep soundly. Unwinding his arm from around your waist, his fingers curl from the top of your hair and down your temple. “Vic,” he says once again, his voice a little rough from sleep.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your body shifting and rubbing up against his. That makes him go stiff as he becomes acutely aware of the reaction this instills in his own body. “Steve…” his name slips from your parted lips with a pleasured lilt.

His eyes widen and he feels the heat crawling up his neck. “Vic, honey, you gotta wake up,” he urges a little more pressingly. He’s not sure where the term of endearment came from. It just slipped out.

Your eyes flutter and slowly blink open. Your head pulls back, away from his chest, before your eyes lift to his. Your lips split into a smile that rivals the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Morning...” you declare, in a cheerful, yet sleepy voice. Your arm lifts from his waist, so you can rub the tiredness from your eyes and then cover the yawn that escapes. “Oh, you probably need to use the bathroom,” you realize and begin to extract your tangled legs. Even as a Super Soldier, Steve had the tiniest bladder. He always needed to go first thing after waking up.

“Uh… thanks?” He looks a little confused but shuffles out of bed. He gives you one last glance over his shoulders before leaving the room.

You move to sit up, wincing slightly when you feel your stitches tug at your skin. It’s not exactly painful but feels uncomfortable. You’ll get a chance to check on the healing progress later. It might already be time to remove the stitches. Pushing the blankets off your legs, you carefully move to stand, keeping a hand pressed to the covered wound on your front. Once on your feet, you attempt a few simple stretches to test the strength of your torso and the integrity of the wounded area. There’s a very slight soreness, but it’s nearly unnoticeable.

You turn back to the bed and start to pull the sheets back into place. “You don’t have to do that,” Steve voices once again upon entering the room.

You glance up briefly, releasing a huffed laugh. “Force of habit.”

He moves back to his side of the bed, helping you tug the sheets and blankets back into place. You both then grab a pillow each, fluffing them up in the same manner and setting them back at the same time. It’s a morning ritual you’ve grown used to, but Steve gives you a strange look.

“Hey, do you mind if I use your shower?” you ask, both in an attempt to distract him and because you’re sure that your hair has only gotten worse by sleeping in it without washing the hairspray out.

“Oh, sure,” he agrees, stepping back. “And I think I still have one of my Ma’s old dresses that you can wear.” He turns and moves toward his closet, rolling back one of the double doors to reveal an old wooden dresser tucked into the space. He kneels down and opens the bottom drawer, lifting and tucking around a few different items before pulling out a folded cloth in a floral pattern.

He hands the dress to you, which you take graciously. You hold it tight to your chest, the meaning not lost on you at how much he has to trust you to offer his mother’s dress without hesitation. “Thank you, Steve.”

He nods, watching how you clutch the material as if you understand its importance before he meets your gaze. “It takes a while for the water to get hot, and then it doesn’t last very long. Clean towels are in the cupboard to the right of the sink.”

You smile sweetly. “Thanks for the forewarning.”

You step out of the bedroom and head for the living room first to grab the first aid kit, which you left on the couch, before backtracking down the hall into the bathroom. After closing and locking the door, you place the dress gently on the closed toilet seat and begin to unbutton your pajama shirt. It falls unceremoniously off your shoulders and onto the floor.

Stepping toward the sink, you begin to unwrap the bandage from around your waist and carefully peel back the taped gauze pack. You can’t help the chuckle of slight disbelief when you look down at the nearly healed wound. You would never know how Shuri did it, but her gel was an absolute godsend. You’ve used some of it before, but never for something this bad. You’ll have to find a way to thank her once you get back.

You open up your first aid kit and pull out the surgical scissors, cleaning them off with an alcohol wipe, and then start snipping and removing the stitching thread. Getting the stitches on your back wound, while working through the mirror is a bit awkward, but you get it all eventually. You clean the scissors again before putting them back and take out the tube of disinfectant cream. You place that on the counter for later and shed your pajama pants next.

You grab a towel from the cupboard and pull your toiletry bag back out from where you stashed it the night before to grab the items you’ll need for your shower. Stepping into the porcelain tub, you swing the curtain around, the metal rings at the top clinking against the top bar. You spin the nobs to turn on the water and flip the switch to send it from the tub faucet to the showerhead.

The water that comes gushing out is frigid, but you don’t mind too terribly. You’ve had your fair share of cold showers, especially after that time you went on the run with Steve, Sam, and Nat after the Accords broke up the team. You were just happy to have running water against your scalp. It’s also nice to be able to reach up and work the water into your hair without feeling pain from your injury.

By the time you’ve got your shampoo building up a lather on your scalp, the water finally begins to warm. You adjust the knobs as necessary, hoping that by keeping it at a more lukewarm, the heat may last a little longer. This seems to be the right trick because it doesn’t start to cool until you’re just about finished.

Pushing the curtain back, you step onto the thin bath mat. You grab the towel to dry off your body and hair. You know you won’t have access to a blow drier in a man’s apartment, so the towel is the best you’ve got. With the towel wrapped and twisted around the top of your head, you step back up to the sink to apply the disinfectant cream over your wounds, then protect them with a single square, adhesive bandage over each one.

The floral dress is loose enough that you can step into it and pull it up your legs, feeding your arms through the short sleeves, before it settles on your shoulders. A soft lavender scent fills your lungs where it clings to the fabric from its original owner. You smooth your hand down the dress, sending your thoughts to the woman who wore it before you in the hopes that she won’t mind you borrowing it. It always makes you a little sad when you remember that you’ll never have a chance to meet the wonderful woman that raised the man you love. But wearing this dress helps you feel a little more connected, both to her and to Steve.

You pack your toiletries back into the bag and stash it once more before unwinding the towel from your hair and bundling it in your arms along with the borrowed pajamas. You step out of the bathroom and head back for Steve’s room. You find him sitting on the bed, already dressed for the day, and lacing up his boots. He pauses and looks up at your entrance. His lips part in awe, eyes widening.

“Wow…” he mutters quietly enough that you don’t think he noticed the slip.

You feel the heat in your face building. “It’s a beautiful dress,” you tell him sincerely, glancing down the length of the material.

He has to physically shake himself out of his thoughts, mouth closing as he looks away, embarrassed. “She’d be happy to hear that. It was one of her favorites.” He finishes lacing his boots before he stands. “She’d also be happy to see it getting used again.”

He walks over to you, taking the items from your arms and putting them in the hamper basket he has tucked in the corner of the room by the closet.

“Are you going out?” you question, noting his attire.

He nods, turning toward the dresser inside his still-open closet. He opens one of the single top drawers and pulls out a tie. “Yeah, I’m meeting with Bucky.” He turns up the collar of his shirt and hooks the tie around the back of his neck. “I promise I won’t tell him about you,” he quickly puts in, glancing over at you. His body seems to turn of its own accord when you step up to him; his hands falling away when yours take their place on the fabric of the tie.

“I know you won’t.” You assure him, pulling the length of the tie to one side before beginning to wrap the material around itself. “I trust you.”

You finish tying the knot and tighten it neatly to the base of his neck, noting how his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. Your gaze flicks up, catching the look on his face. He looks just about ready to jump out of his own skin. Your lips turn up into a smile of amusement, though you just barely manage to contain your laugh.

Steve takes a step back, hand smoothing over the length of his tie as his gaze drops from yours. “Um, thanks,” he mutters quietly.

You know you shouldn’t be teasing him like this, but there’s a part of you that can’t help it. Teasing your Steve normally ended with you getting stripped naked and thrown onto the bed. Or pushed up against the wall. Or bent over the couch… All that positive reinforcement for being naughty made it very difficult for you to behave now. Trying to respect his boundaries, you take your own step back to give him a little more space. “If you’re heading out, do you want me to leave too?” you question.

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “You can stay as long as you need, while you recover. I… I trust you, too.” He doesn’t really know why he would admit that to you after only knowing you for half a day. He wasn’t generally a very trusting person. Being an outcast will do that to you. However, you don’t treat him like an outcast. In fact, you’ve been nothing but kind to him and somehow, he can feel in his heart that he really can trust you. He turns once more to the dresser and digs through the other top drawer. “Here,” he offers, holding out a small object in his hand. When you reach to take it, you realize it’s a key. “You can stay if you want. Or you can leave. You can just tuck it under the doormat if you’re gonna go.” Steve has a strange undertone to his words and he won’t meet your gaze. It’s like he knows that by giving you the option to leave on your own, he’ll surely be coming back to an empty apartment.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, unsure what the proper response is here.

“Well, I’m running late, so…” he leaves the words unfinished as he slides the closet door closed and steps around you.

You turn to watch him leave the room with a frown, unsure how his mood soured so quickly. “Steve,” you call after him, stepping into the living room and stopping his movements at the front door.

He looks back at you, hand on the doorknob. You’re not really sure what to say. Before you can come up with anything, he releases a long sigh, gaze dropping. In the next instant, he swings open the door and steps out.

You bite your lip, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. The Steve you know also had issues with saying goodbye. You always thought that it was from plunging into the ice and waking up in a completely different era. That saying goodbye meant there was an uncertainty of ever seeing each other again, and that made him uncomfortable because he knew all too well what it felt like to have an entire life stripped away. You realize now that the scars run even deeper than that.

You try to think about what the best way to handle this is. You know that you can’t just disappear on him. Even if it’s what you should do, the thought alone makes your stomach squirm and you know that you can’t do that to him.

You step into the kitchen, finding your shirt washed and dried on the small kitchen table. The two bullet holes have also been mended with some thread. You wonder if he had done that while you were in the shower. Your heart clenches. You know how sweet and thoughtful he can be, but he still manages to find ways to surprise you. Even here. You have an idea beginning to form in your mind of how you can repay him for the kindness he’s shown you.

You know that you at least need to track down and check-in with Dr. Erskine. With the way things were left last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he waited for your return to the recruitment station and by now, he would be assuming the worst. It wouldn’t benefit you at all to have him running to Colonel Phillips to get an investigation started into your whereabouts, only to discover that your records with the SSR didn’t even exist.

But with a key to Steve’s apartment, nothing was preventing you from coming back… After all, it’s not like you exactly had a place to stay. You’d planned to spend your evenings at a hotel, if necessary, but why waste the money?

With your mind made up, you find a smile slowly beginning to grow on your face. Moving back into the bedroom, you grab the rest of your soiled clothing, so you can have it washed and leave it out to dry while you run your errands. You dump your skirt and panties into the sink, only now remembering that you were currently going commando.

It didn’t really bother you since you’ve done it plenty of times before. It was one of your favorite methods of teasing Steve. Also, it certainly helped with the ease of access to accomplish your end goal. You swear the man had a dick made out of gold, and boy, did he know how to use it. You remember asking him where he learned how to thoroughly fuck a woman’s brains out after your first time together. He had laughed, cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment and he told you that he’d had a good teacher. You assumed he meant Barnes. You never did get a chance to thank the man for his thorough lessons.

With the blood washed out of your skirt and underwear, you set them out to dry and head back for the bedroom. You open the pouch from your thigh holster and use a particle disc to enlarge your miniaturized vintage suitcase. Setting it on the ground in the corner of the room, you pop the latches and crack it open, pulling out a fresh set of undies and new stockings. You put on your undies first before sitting on the edge of the bed to slip the stockings up each leg, the elastic tightening just above your knees, and then slide into your heels. You strap your holster back into place, making sure the pouch is secure, before stepping in front of the floor-length mirror leaning against Steve’s wall to make sure it can’t be seen against the fabric of the dress.

You head for the bathroom next, pulling out the hairpins from your toiletry bag. You don’t go quite as “all-out” as you had yesterday, but you get your hair pinned up enough that it’s passable for this day’s fashion. You apply your makeup next, careful with the heavily pigmented lipstick. Once that’s finished, you’re ready to head out.

Stepping out of the apartment, you lock the door behind you and check to make sure no one is around to watch as you lift your skirt and tuck the key into your pouch for safekeeping. Your heels click down the metal staircase as you descend to the street level. You keep your eyes peeled, making sure the men from yesterday, or others, haven’t shown up in droves looking for you.

The coast seems to be clear and you’re able to make it to the street to hail a taxi without issue. You ride to the World Fair, thinking it might be best to start there, instead of showing up at the lab in civilian clothing, expecting to be let in. You pay the cab fare upon arrival and walk straight to the recruitment station. It’s still fairly early in the morning and most of the Fair attractions are still setting up, so there aren’t as many people around as yesterday.

You wonder briefly if it may even be too early before Dr. Erskine would have shown up, but decide to head in any way. A few doctors and nurses are walking around the facility, getting everything prepared. You walk up to a man sitting behind a desk, who you recognize as the head physician.

“Excuse me,” you call to gain his attention.

He barely even gives you a glance before turning back to the papers he’s working on. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asks distractedly.

You have to bite your tongue to keep in the snide remark. “I’m looking for Dr. Erskine, I was here with him yesterday.”

You hear the sound of a curtain getting pushed open behind you. “Vic!”

Turning around, you find just the man you’re looking for. He gestures for you to meet him in the exam room before he shuts the curtain behind you. “Where have you been?” he asks in a hushed, yet urgent, whisper. “I was beginning to think they had taken you. Or worse!”

“I’m alright. I was able to distract them, but they ended up getting away. I wanted to lay low for the night to make sure they wouldn’t come looking for us.” You decide not to tell him about getting shot for fear that he’ll want to see the wound. He is a doctor, after all.

“This is not good,” he sighs with a shake of his head. “Schmidt is getting too close. We have to stop the project.”

You gape at the words coming out of his mouth and quickly try to rectify the situation. “No!” you insist, reaching out to grip his shoulders. “We can’t give up when we’re this close. I know that we will find the man we need for Project Rebirth soon. If we stop now, then Schmidt will win and we can’t let that happen.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “Is that your faith speaking?”

“Yes,” you tell him frankly.

“Okay,” he concedes. “We will keep going, but we have to be careful to make sure those men don’t find the location of the lab.”

You nod to agree, but then your throat constricts when you realize that they’ll find it anyway. You’d nearly forgotten that Erskine doesn’t get out of this alive. He dies just moments after Steve gets turned into a Super Soldier. Shot to death by a Hydra agent. Could you really let that happen still? Knowing that you can save his life?

But on the other hand, that Hydra Agent is a sure fire way to get that spare sample of the serum. You know that he takes it in his escape from the lab. You also know where he’s planning to go, so you can easily intercept him. If you decide to step in and stop the assassination, the chances of anyone letting you just walk out of that lab yourself with the extra serum were about zero.

You feel the conflict burning inside you and you’re not sure what to do. You attempt to push the thought from your mind, knowing you don’t actually have to make a decision right this moment. “They won’t,” you assure him half-heartedly, the lie tasting sour in your mouth. “For now, you should minimize being seen in public and we should have Colonel Phillips send a few extra MPs to watch over the recruitment center.”

He nods in agreement. “And what about you? Why aren’t you in uniform?” he asks, looking down at the dress you wear.

“I had a bit of a scuffle with those men yesterday. Nothing too serious!” you quickly put in when his brows raise. “But my uniform needed to be cleaned afterward. However, this does also give the advantage of being able to blend in. I can watch around the recruitment center to make sure we haven’t been followed and look for suspicious activity.”

Erskine thinks it over for a moment, “Well, you were the one to notice those men yesterday, so I trust your judgment.”

You spend a few hours with him creating a surveillance plan to monitor the recruitment center that will allow you to watch for any Hydra agents, but also not alarm any of the citizens coming to the Fair. After the extra MPs show up, you take your leave, knowing that they will be able to keep the doctor safe in your absence. From there, you head to a grocery store near Steve’s apartment to grab the items you’ll need for his surprise tonight.

When Steve walks up the stairs to his apartment later that evening, he’s got his hands tucked deep in his pants pockets and his head hanging low. He’s come home to an empty apartment nearly every day of his adult life, so he doesn’t understand why it feels so difficult now. He can smell something delicious cooking through one of his neighbor’s open windows and it makes his stomach growl. He gets to his front door and pauses. Though the curtains are shut on his window, he can see light filtering through from inside, and if he strains his ears, he’s pretty sure he can hear the radio playing a soft melody.

With brows furrowed, he slides his key in place and unlocks the door. Stepping into his home, the delicious smell from outside hits him hard and fills his lungs with warmth. He blinks in surprise. “…Vic?” he calls out in question, unsure if this is really happening or not.

“In the kitchen!” your voice calls back and he’s pretty sure his heart flutters in his chest. And not in a bad way.

He shuts the door behind himself and moves toward the kitchen. The sight before him is one he never thought he’d see. A woman waiting for him to come home and cooking in his kitchen. You’re standing at the stove, stirring a large pot. The scent of the food smells familiar to him, but he just can’t place it.

“What are you making?” he asks.

You send a smile his way in greeting, “Potato soup.”

He slips his coat off his shoulders, placing it on the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “That use to be my favorite as a kid.”

“Oh really?” you try to sound surprised.

“Yeah,” he reaches to loosen the tie from his neck. “I’ve tried to make it on my own a few times, but I can’t seem to find the right recipe. It doesn’t quite taste the same as when my Ma made it.”

You hum in understanding. “Well, I can’t claim to be as good of a cook as her, but hopefully this soup will measure up.” It’s at that moment that a timer begins ringing. “Oh, that would be the biscuits. Do you mind?” you ask, indicating to the oven mitt you’ve left on the counter.

He jumps in, slipping the mitt onto his hand and opens the oven with the other. He pulls out a tray of biscuits cooked to a perfect golden brown. He places the tray on the stovetop next to where you’re cooking the soup. He then closes the oven door and turns it off. “Do you need help with anything else?” he offers.

“Just bowls and utensils. The soup is almost done. You came home just in time,” you smile at him over your shoulder.

He kind of likes the way you say home. Maybe a little too much. He turns to pull two mismatched bowls out of the cupboard and some spoons from the drawers. He sets the bowls on the counter next to you and takes the spoons to the small two-seater table. He pulls out some cloth napkins and plates for the biscuits, seeing that you already have a plate of butter set out with a butter knife.

“Where did all this food come from?” Steve asks. He’s pretty sure he didn’t have all the ingredients you’d need to make potato soup, and he knows for certain that he’s been out of butter for at least a week.

“I went to the store,” you comment off-hand.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he tells you once again, feeling like a scratched record.

You only laugh. “I know, Steve. But I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You grab a hand towel to hold one of the bowls as you ladle the hot soup carefully inside. “Take a seat,” you tell him, setting the bowl on the table in front of him.

He knows it’s rude to sit before the lady, but he finds himself complying with your wishes just the same. You pour soup into your own bowl and set it at the table before grabbing the small plates and placing a warm biscuit onto each. Watching you flit around his kitchen like you’ve been there his whole life makes Steve’s entire body ache in ways he’s not used to.

You set the plates down on either side of the table before taking your seat across from him. “Be careful, it’s still pretty hot,” you warn as you take your napkin and set it neatly on your lap. “How was your day out with Bucky?” you ask, figuring small talk will be a good way to pass some time as the soup cools.

“It was good,” he nods, picking up his spoon to stir at the soup in his bowl. “It was kinda nice just being the two of us. He’s been dragging me on all these double dates recently. It’s driving me a little crazy.”

You laugh sweetly. “You’d think your best friend would know your type by now.”

“My type?” he questions, confused.

“You know… the type of woman you’re attracted to.”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t even had a chance to figure that out.”

Your head tilts as you look at him. “You mean you’ve never been attracted to anyone?”

“Well, I have…” he backtracks. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is that they never feel attracted to me. It doesn’t matter what I wear or how I act, next to Bucky I’m just…”

“Steve,” you say gently, reaching your hand across the table to place it over his.

“It’s not a big deal,” he feigns shrugging it off. “I’ve gotten used to being alone.”

You gently squeeze his hand, your heart bleeding for him. You can’t stand the sight of him looking so despondent. To feel resigned to what he thinks is his fate. “You’re not going to be alone forever. I promise that there is someone out there for you. It might take some time, but I know you’ll find happiness.” You might be saying too much, but you hate seeing the sadness in his eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He releases a dry laugh, eyes glued to where your hand touches his. “Are you one of those people that thinks there’s someone out there for everyone?”

Your thumb swipes back and forth over his skin. “No, but I know you’re a good person, Steve. And good people deserve to find happiness.” You wait for him to build the courage to meet your eyes once more. “I don’t measure a person’s worth based on what they look like or how many people they’ve been on dates with. Your actions, your heart, and your courage are what truly define you.”

“Did you read that on a Hallmark card?” he asks, shooting you a wry smile.

You laugh, pulling your hand back. “No. But it sounds like it should be on one, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit,” he agrees, his smile becoming a little more genuine.

You’re happy to have lifted his spirits and turn to dig into your meal. You cut open your biscuit and fit a slice of butter into its warm center to allow the butter to melt. You watch from the corner of your eye as Steve takes a spoonful of soup and blows gently to cool it off. You nearly hold your breath in anticipation when he raises the spoon to his mouth and gets his first taste.

“Oh my God!” he exclaims around his full mouth, quickly trying to swallow before he speaks further. “This tastes exactly how I remember it when my Ma made this!” He takes another spoonful, closing his eyes and releasing a happy moan with the burst of savory flavor on his tongue. “This is amazing.”

You can’t help but laugh at the child-like giddiness coming from him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to make this?” he asks after downing another spoonful.

“I actually went through a whole process of trying several different recipes and ways of making it before coming to this particular one.” Your Steve had once mentioned that potato soup had been one of his favorite meals that his mother made for him growing up. When you asked him why he never made it himself, he’d told you that he had never received the recipe from her and didn’t know how to make it the same way. You’d then turned it into your mission to help him find the perfect recipe. It took trying out different variations every other week, until one day, he’d told you that you’d gotten perfectly. At that point, it became a special occasion meal that the two of you would share together.

You’re barely halfway through your own soup by the time he’s scraping at the bottom of his bowl. “Do you mind if I have more?” he asks eagerly.

You grin so wide that your cheeks almost hurt. “There’s plenty left over. Help yourself.” He gets up so quickly that his chair nearly falls over.

You’re pretty sure there’s a saying out there about how nothing quite brings people together like sharing a meal. That certainly seems to be the case with getting Steve to open up to you. As the two of you eat the soup and biscuits, the conversation seems to flow easier and more natural than before. He tells you all sorts of tales about the shenanigans he and Bucky got into growing up and you tell him a few stories from your own childhood.

The sun has long since set and the moon is high in the sky by the time your conversation lulls. At this point, you’re both up and moving about the kitchen. You’re putting away the left-over soup and biscuits while Steve cleans the dishes in the sink.

“Your wound seems to be doing a lot better already,” Steve observes. “I haven’t seen you wince at all tonight.”

You instinctively place a hand to the front of your torso, just over the simple square bandage that lies beneath. The pain was completely gone at this point; that you’d honestly forgotten about it. “I have pain medication that helps,” you quickly come up with an excuse.

“Do you want help checking it?” he offers.

You shake your head, “No, that’s okay. You helped with the worst of it already.”

Steve nods, drying off his hands and setting the towel on its rack by the sink. He exits the kitchen and heads down the hall for the bedroom. You hear him turn on the light with a click. You’re in the middle of cleaning crumbs off the table when you hear him call out to you. “Hey, is this your suitcase?”

Your entire body freezes and your heart jolts. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath, realizing that you left it out from this morning. “Uh… yes,” you respond, straightening up and heading down the hall to stand in the doorway of his room. You try to come up with an excuse quickly, heart pounding in your chest. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of presumptuous. I’m only supposed to be in town until the end of the week. I’ve been staying at a hotel nearby. I was going to wait for you to get back, to make sure it was okay if I stayed here with you, but you had already offered and if I didn’t check out by the afternoon, then I would have had to pay for another night.” You’re rambling at this point. “If you don’t feel comfortable with that, then I can-”

“Oh, no!” Steve jumps in, cutting you off. “I’m not going to kick you out,” he assures you. “As I said, you can stay as long as you need.” His lips turn up into a hint of a smirk. “Besides, I’m starting to get used to your company.”

You release a breath of relief, your pounding heart starting to slow. You give him a shaky smile. “Thanks, Steve.”

“And at least you won’t have to fit yourself into Bucky’s pajamas for a second night in a row,” he jokes, stepping over to his closet as he loosens and removes his tie.

You scoff out a quiet laugh, moving back to finish cleaning the kitchen. You mentally scold yourself for being so lax. No more slip-ups. You can’t let Steve find out the truth about you. You can’t afford to compromise the mission.

Part 4

#steve rogers x reader #pre-serum steve x reader #skinny steve x reader #40s steve x reader #captain america x reader

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hotchnisspoetry · 3 years

Text

Exile - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 - Here

Chatper 2 - Here

Chapter 3 - Here

Hotch finally gets some answers from Emily.

Chapter 4 - death by a thousand cuts

Rossi left and the bullpen was mostly in darkness apart from the light which came from Hotch’s office. Emily removed the sling she’d been wearing since leaving hospital. It was awkward and she didn’t like how she felt when she wore it. She headed along the walkway and without knocking opened the door to Hotch’s office.

The unit chief was sat behind his desk staring at, but not really seeing, a stack of reports. He’d been in New York for several days before the case which had ended with Strauss’ death and following that was the showdown with the replicator. It meant he’d not been at his desk for almost a week and the paperwork was piling up. When she walked in he raised his head and for a moment they locked eyes.

“Everyone’s gone home.” She said just to end the silence.

“Fincher called. He’s given the team the rest of the week off.” Hotch said finally looking away.

“That includes you.” She pointed out.

Was she telling him to leave? Had she changed her mind and accepted the role of section chief? He’d never thought she would take the job but clearly there was a lot he didn’t know about her. Hotch met her gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” He asked with a just a hint of amusement.

“In a gentle, encouraging, you’ve had a long week and should probably get some rest way, yes.”

She was trying to look out for him, as usual. He flashed back to the days following Foyet’s attack when he was in hospital; whenever he woke up from his heavily medicated sleep she would always be there. Guarding him, protecting him.

“I’ll go… when you’ve told me what happened with Foyet.” Hotch said sitting back in the chair.

Outwardly she didn’t react. Emily was far too good for that. He wasn’t going to catch her out or trick her into doing anything she didn’t want to. She cared for him still, despite everything that had happened between them and yes he would use that to get what he wanted. Right now he didn’t care about anything else but learning the truth.

“What happened is in the past.” Emily said despite knowing she wouldn’t dissuade him.

“Not for me.” He said impatiently. “Not when I just found out an hour ago that I could have lost you.”

You’d already lost me.

She didn’t say the words out loud but she was tempted. Part of her, a small part, wanted to hurt him. Just like he’d hurt her.

“I told you what happened.”

“Not everything. Not enough.” Hotch said

Fincher had used it as a reason to try and get her behind a desk. It had gone badly and Hotch needed details. If he had to he’d go to Fincher on Monday but he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to hear it from her first-hand. Hotch was relentless and he’d get what he wanted one way or another; she knew that. So she might as well tell him now.

Emily took a deep breath.

“I was in Boston and I was digging for anything I could get on Foyet. He found out somehow, I’m not sure how, and started to follow me. I didn’t see him; he was too good but I could feel him watching me, just on the periphery.”

Hotch understood. It was what stalking victims had described many times over the years, not seeing anyone but feeling them. Knowing they were there.

“I spoke with Lindmen and he put me in a safe house.”

Lindeman was her contact at the Boston field office and while he had his own caseload he’d been offering assistance where he could.

“I think he was worried what Fincher would do if I got myself killed. I went along with it because I knew Foyet would find me no matter what I did. He knew Boston. I felt he had inside connections and in the end I was proved right.”

“He found you in a safe house?” Hotch asked, his stomach twisting in knots at her words.

“I wanted him to find me.”

His eyes blazed with anger at that and for a split second she froze, waiting for him to speak. A minute passed though and he stayed silent. Hotch was the King of compartmentalization but she’d never seen him so close to snapping as he was right there.

“A week passed and the officers assigned to the safe house started to think it was bullshit. They wouldn’t believe that the Boston Reaper would come back to Boston.”

Emily couldn’t exactly blame them. Most killers having successfully escaped from jail would flee the city they were most known in and never return. Then again George Foyet was not most killers.

“I knew better though and I tried to warn them but they didn’t listen. That’s what got them killed.”

Boston police wouldn’t like being lectured to by a fed, let alone a young female fed who had no physical evidence of a threat. The Reaper had been their case originally and then the FBI had been called in. It was the BAU who caught Foyet but he’d been in police custody when he escaped. There was a lot of bad feeling regarding the Foyet case and Emily had felt the brunt of it.

“It was after midnight when the power went out. I radioed down but got no response.”

She shifted as she spoke, ignoring the goose bumps which broke out over her body. It had taken months for her to lock those memories away in their box, to completely block out what had happened. Reliving it wasn’t a pleasant experience. She spoke quickly, wanting to get it over with, not linger on these memories.

“I was upstairs and went to the back room to wait. He was already there… it didn’t seem real. I couldn’t go out the door so I ran to the window and went straight through it.”

At the time she’d been acting purely on instinct. If she’d stayed in the room she’d have died. As she’d run to the window she’d seen the glint of the knife as Foyet swung it towards her in a high arch.

“I landed on grass but it messed my knee up. I pulled a shard of glass from my leg but I couldn’t stand let alone walk.”

By this point Hotch couldn’t look at her as she spoke. His fingers were digging into the arm rest of his chair and his jaw was clenched. It was all playing out in his head like the worst horror film he’d ever seen.

“I could hear him approach as I crawled. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.”

She’d never told this part of the story before and her voice broke. Hotch lifted his head.

“Keep going.”

It took everything he had to keep the emotion out his voice. To not let on just how much this was killing him. His apparent lack of feeling hurt Emily as much as telling the story did. With a new resolve she didn’t know she possessed, she walked over to his desk, then round and sat on the edge. There was barely any space between them. Without saying a word she took his hand and lifted it from the chair arm he’d been gripping. She brought his fingers to her neck and pressed them across the slender column of her throat.

“He cut my throat.”

Emily knew when he felt the scar. A scar no longer visible thanks to make up and topical treatments but could definitely be felt. His eyes widened and utter horror crossed over his face for almost a full minute. It was only when she dropped his hand and turned her head away that he recovered and that Hotch mask returned.

He wanted to touch her.

To take her hand again, lace his fingers with hers and offer the comfort he knew she needed but would never ask for. She wouldn’t let him if he tried though so he didn’t.

“I had the shard of glass from my leg in my hand. He didn’t see it coming when I stabbed him.”

She smiled as she remembered his angry growl when he saw the glass buried in his side. Foyet had underestimated her from the start and each time she’d proved what a grave mistake that was she’d felt a glow of victory.

“I’d hidden a gun in this ornamental rockery, it was only a few meters away and I managed to get to it.”

Blood had been pouring down her chest but she’d got to the gun and fired off five shots. Two had hit Foyet.

“He had to run… the gunshots would have more police on the way. I’m sure he was positive that I’d bleed out.”

It was a miracle she hadn’t. Only the fact Foyet had sliced at an angle and her ability to slow her breathing and as a result her heart rate had saved her.

“I was in an induced coma for weeks. When I was brought out of it Foyet was dead.” She turned back to Hotch. “You’d killed him.”

Hotch didn’t know what to say. What could you say to that? She’d gone through hell because she’d wanted him to be safe and be reunited with Jack. Her sigh drew him from his thoughts and as he returned his attention to her, she stood.

“I should go.”

She stood up and walked from the desk towards the door. She reached it and he still hadn’t said anything. Was it shock? Horror at what he’d just heard that rendered a man who had once made a career out of talking speechless.

Just as she went for the handle he was there.

Hotch grabbed her arm, spun her round and then his lips were coming down on hers hard. It reminded him of their first kiss. Guilt had been overwhelming him on that night too and she had been there. She was always there. The sweet taste of her pushing away the darkness and offering him escape.

For a second she’d been too stunned to react but as his fingers moved across her back, seeking the bottom of her sweater she was brought back to reality. She pushed him away, ignoring that small voice in her head which was urging him on.

“No. No, you don’t get to do that.” She said

“You don’t want me to kiss you?” He asked, his voice light and calm but at complete odds with the lust filling his eyes.

Anger quickly replaced any sense of desire and need she had felt for him. Anger that he would think he could just kiss her and she wouldn’t say anything after everything that had transpired between them. Did he really think it would be so easy?

“It doesn’t matter what I want because you broke up with me. That was your decision Hotch!”

“And it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

It was what she’d wanted to hear for so long. Actually hearing those words knocked the fight out of her. He regretted ending their relationship. Was he admitting that? Evidently that surprise was clear on her face because he sighed and ran his hand over his face.

“I never thought you’d leave. It never fucking occurred to me you’d quit and leave D.C.” Hotch told her.

“You thought you’d break my heart and I’d stick around?”

She couldn’t keep the pain from her voice and she didn’t want to. He needed to know how deeply he’d hurt her.

“I never wanted to cause you any pain.” Hotch said softly. “I needed to keep you safe.”

Safe?

An almost hysterical laugh bubbled forth and Emily couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. He was trying to keep her safe? It sounded ridiculous and by the time she could finally stop laughing nothing was funny.

“Well that worked out well, didn’t it?” She said with a shrug.

There was a split second when he thought she was going to burst into tears. He stepped forwards without thought, to take her in his arms and give her comfort but she jerked back.

“Did you forget about Beth?” Emily asked

The name was like a bucket of cold water. Yes, he had completely forgotten about her.

“Beth.” He murmured.

“Your girlfriend. You’ve been with her a while now.” Emily said

How could he have forgotten? Not made the simplest of connections. He was a profiler for god sake. Emily had told him that she’d been in charge of their security detail for months now; ensuring he and the others were safe wherever they went. That would include when he went to New York to visit Beth.

“She’s…” He swallowed. “She’s not…”

“Important?” Emily finished and gave him a pointed look. “We both know that’s not true. You don’t do anything casually and that definitely includes dating.”

Hotch had spent nights with her, weekends. That’s how Emily knew that it was serious. He didn’t do one-night stands or flings. He wasn’t that kind of man. She walked to the door and opened it, effectively ending whatever this was.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

#extra long extra pain #sorry not sorry #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #hotchniss #criminal minds fanfiction #bring on the angst

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dearest-bucky · 4 years

Text

Burning heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)

Originally posted: February 24, 2020

The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.

She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.

It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.

From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”

“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.

Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.

Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.

But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.

She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.

Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.

“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.

“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.

Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.

Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.

Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.

Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.

They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.

Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.

“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.

Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.

“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”

He nodded and kissed her head.

Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.

Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.

Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.

He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.

They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.

He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.

“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.

She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.

“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.

He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.

The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.

***

Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.

When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and scars.

Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.

This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.

As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.

She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.

“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.

Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.

Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.

Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.

Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.

He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.

“Will you let me look at your wounds? Steve said you’re shot-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.

“I don’t need your help.”

His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.

He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.

Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.

Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.

When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.

He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.

When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.

“You’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.

“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…” she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.

He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.

Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.

She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.

She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.

She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.

***

The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.

It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.

Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.

He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.

He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.

Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.

He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.

She was having a nightmare.

He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.

As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.

Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.

“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.

She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.

“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.

“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.

“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.

His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.

Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.

“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”

Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.

“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.

Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.

She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”

He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.

“Buck..”

“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.

“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.

He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.

“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.

At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.

“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.

“Please don’t.”

It was barely a whisper and if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.

He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.

Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.

“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”

She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.

“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”

That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 10 : I'm sorry, I didn’t know keep moving forward summary

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

“Shouldn’t you two be off doing college boy things? Like blowing up your dorm rooms or terrorizing your professors into retiring early?” Tony’s eyes shifted to Peter. “Or not studying for your Chem midterm on Monday?”

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

A gentle breeze fresh off the lake blew through Peter’s hair, bringing with it all the familiar and welcoming scents of his second home.

He shut the door to Harley’s baby, a vintage red Camaro with black racing stripes, and immediately locked eyes with Tony, who watched them both walk the dirt path up to the lakehouse from his favorite chair on the porch.

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

“Morgan’s right,” said Peter, having flashbacks to that time, a couple of weeks earlier, when she had called him from her closet to complain that her dad spent the entire day at her school. “You have boundary issues.”

“And I’m called Iron Man 2,” said Harley.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Cause he’s the sequel.”

“Well you know what they say about sequels. They’re never as good as the original.”

“It’s cold here,” said Harley. He turned to Peter. “Why did we come here, again?”

“I dunno, my memory’s sort of foggy…”

“Oh, let me try,” said Tony. “Maybe cause you’re both broke college students who haven’t had a solid meal since the last time you drove four hours to do laundry, and you know on Friday nights I make my famous lasagna.”

“Yeah,” admitted Peter. “Sounds about right.”

Tony pulled him into a belligerent hug, knocking the air of him, and ruffling his hair with his prosthetic arm. Harley was nex

t, though he tried, and failed, to get away. Peter lifted both heaps of laundry off the porch. The three of them went inside, where the aroma of home cooked lasagna filled the air.

Peter breathed it in, and a peaceful feeling spread through his body. He was home. At least for a while.

The garage was dimly lit, but that was the way Harley liked it. Reminded him of home, and all those nights he’d snuck out to the garage after his mother went to bed to tinker until sunrise, working quietly by lantern and flashlights only, to stay hidden and unbothered.

It didn’t matter how much noise he made at the Stark lake house. He’d always be drown out by Morgan’s chaos or Tony’s rambling or Peter’s frequently moody loud thoughts. It was comforting, and annoying, at all once.

“Burning the midnight oil?” asked Tony, and Harley poked his head up from insides of his beloved Camaro.

Tony wore a robe patterned with tiny Spider-Mans over his pajamas, and Harley had never really gotten used to that, to seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, walking around in goofy dad pajamas.

“Something like that.”

“I can help you, you know,” said Tony. He patted the red Camaro, and Harley swatted his hand away.

“No way,” said Harley. He knew what happened when Tony started tinkering, even when he’d claim they were only minor upgrades. “Touch her and die. I like her the way she is.”

“That’s not what you said when you asked for my expert advice about your suit.”

“One of my biggest regrets,” said Harley.

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

“I’m not that old,” pointed out Tony.

“But you’re retired,” said Harley. “And that automatically ages you up about twenty years.”

“I’m not retired. I’m a dad, thus making retirement impossible.”

Tony sat on a stool, and with his latest statement, his mood shifted towards something more heavy, more sad. Just the way conversation tended to go lately, as if someone had died. That was about right. Someone had practically died.

“You’re worried about Peter?” Harley guessed.

“I’m always worried about Peter,” said Tony. “And Morgan. But I actually came in here to talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” said Tony. “How’s MIT? How’s your first semester going? I need all the details.”

Harley paused, wondered if it was alright to tell the truth, then realized he couldn’t help it. He broke out into a grin.

“It’s great,” said Harley. “It’s everything I thought it’d be.”

They spend the next couple of hours ignoring the Camaro in favor and talking about hated professors, loved professors, his favorite classes, parties, that girl in his Econ class that always seems to evade him whenever he’d worked up the nerve to ask her out.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” said Tony. “You don’t have to feel guilty about it just because -”

“-because Peter’s not?” offered Harley. “I’m worried about him, too.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Tony, but there wasn’t any reassurance in his words and his eyes looked a bit lost, evident even in the dimly lit garage.

“He’s depressed.”

Tony took a breath, as if he’d known along, but wasn’t ready to hear the simple, plain truth stated like that.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “I suppose he is.”

After several seconds of dead air, Tony stood up from his stool, and clasped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate you looking out for him, as long as you’re remembering to look after yourself.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Harley. “It’s really like we look out for each other, tough. Take turns being the responsible one. We’ve got a calendar for it and everything.”

Tony laughed, and got that far off look in his eyes. The one he usually got before launching into a story about his and Rhodey’s college days, but on that night, Harley was spared a story about good ole days. He suspected it was due to Tony worrying more about Peter than he was letting on.

Tony wanted to call May.

She was a beacon of parental wisdom, especially when it came to Peter, and Tony could really use the help. He was out of his league, here, but last time he’d call at this time of night, he hadn’t gotten advice about how to sooth Morgan through the sudden loss of her imaginary friend. He’d gotten yelled at, by her, and then by Happy, both of them grumpy about being woken up.

And since Pepper also didn’t like being woken up, Tony would have to go with his instincts this time. His instincts told him what Peter needed was a little bit of tough love.

So, he positioned himself on the stairs, just as Peter tried disappearing into his room for some sleep.

“Tony,” said Peter. “Please don’t be annoying.”

“Too late. I was born that way.”

“Please move. Tired.”

“MIT has really gone downhill since I left, huh,” said Tony. “Students can’t even speak in complete sentences.”

Peter groaned, and Tony slung his arm around him, directing him into the kitchen where’s set up the table with a variety of study aids and all of Peter’s school books.

“What is this?”

“Oh you know,” said Tony. He let go of him, and walked around the table. “You got your energy drinks, you sour gummy candy, your laptop, school books, day old pizza in the fridge, all the necessities for an all-nighter.”

“Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to be a real college student,” said Tony. “And I figured I could help you study for your Chem midterm, since you don’t seem to be interested in it at all.”

“I’m a genius. I don’t need study help.”

“Uh huh,” said Tony. “A genius who’s almost failing Chemistry, and will without a decent score on this test.”

Peter dropped his shoulders, and annoyance flashed across his face. Tony waited for him to yell, or start a fight with him.

He’d been so polite, for the most part, during his teen years Tony figured it was about time for them to be at odds over something, about time for Peter to go off the rails the way only a nineteen-year-old could.

“I was thinking,” said Peter, stating his discontent calmly. No yelling only meant it was gonna be harder for Tony to shoot this down. “I could just forget about school.”

“Forget about school?”

“Yeah,” said Peter. Like it was no big deal. “I could help you and Bruce figure what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Except for your Chemistry grade.”

“You know what I mean, Tony,” said Peter, a bite to his tone. “Find out what’s wrong with my powers. So I can be Spider-Man again.”

“Kid, we’ve been through this over and over again. Bruce and I, we’re handling this. School is your job right now.”

“Well I’m tired of just sitting around, and waiting -”

“-hence you being enrolled at MIT.”

Tony pushed Peter towards the table, and they both sat down.

“Listen, Pete,” he told him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it’s like to have these powers and suddenly have them disappear. It’s been… rough on you. And May and I get that. We let you mope around New York all summer long, but it’s time to pick yourself up and keep moving forward.”

Peter stared at the table, at all the study materials, and it was hard for Tony to interpret what he was thinking.

“Think of it as a shot at having some normalcy,” he said. “Before you get your powers back and with them, all of Spider-Man’s responsibilities.”

“What if,” said Peter. His mask of uninterest started to crack. “And what if they don’t come back?”

“They will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Tony. “I literally saved this whole universe, and our friend Professor Hulk brought half the population back. I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah,” said Peter, though he didn’t sound convinced. He looked away from Tony, and at his school books. “I guess we better get started.”

Tony frowned.

He had been hoping for more conversation, or at least to break through to the kid, in some way, even if it was just a talk and a vent.

Instead he had an almost breakthrough. A tiny crack in the disguise. And that wasn’t good enough, even if Peter was studying and allowing Tony to help him.

When they’re done, Peter disappeared to his room to get some sleep, and Tony sat up, at the table, sipping on a god-awful energy drink and wondering who he’d have to bribe to become a professor at MIT.

#febuwhumpday10 #irondad #irondad fic #Peter parker #harley keener #Tony and peter

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nsheetee · 4 years

Note

Hii! ♡ Could you do a CEO!Jaehyun x reader where they have been married for a few years but the media doesn't know that (because she doesn't like being a center of attention and she's super introvert), and ranks him as "One of the Most Wanted Men", and there's a shock to everyone when they find out he's married?

a/n: hi anon, of course I can! love me some CEO!Jaehyun :’)

Part 1 || Part 2

Warnings/Details: lots of fluff, slight angst, some kissing

marrying jung jaehyun was the best decision you’ve made in your whole life

you met him while you were waitressing at a restaurant

it was one of those 5 star dining places that was in the heart of downtown, had a waiting list five months long, and a valet out front

you were serving his table, which was filled with him and men who looked like they could all be in Forbes’ 400 list

in fact, you recognized him from the cover of several magazines you always pass by on your way to work, claiming him to be “One of the Most Wanted Men”

so when you saw him sitting before you, he definitely caught your eye

he looked like if he got a paper cut, he would bleed money

he wore a navy suit with gold accessories and a diamond gaze that stared you down and didn’t leave you all night (much to your surprise)

you about had a heart attack when you were fixing up the table after his party left and found a five thousand dollar tip along with jaehyun’s name and phone number

you originally agreed to meet up with him to give the money back

you got generous amounts in tips all the time, but five thousand dollars was too much for you

when you arrived at the address he gave you, you were surprised to find it was a diner on a little street in midtown that served breakfast food all day long

when you walked in, the bell above the door jingled but jaehyun could’ve sworn he heard church bells ringing instead

he was absolutely enamored by you

never one to believe at love at first sight, his beliefs were squabbled by one look at you

and as you approached him dressed in a mocha colored dress and your hair in loose braids, he felt himself gulp and his hands become sweaty

he didn’t even get this nervous when handling millions of dollars at a time

you, on the other hand, were surprised when you saw him

he was wearing a sweater and black jeans with silver rings on his fingers and glasses perched on his nose

you felt a bit guilty that you judged him so quickly

he didn’t look rich and snobby, as your first impression of him made you think

he looked cozy and homey

this jaehyun looked like if he were to get a paper cut, he would bleed warmth and love

maybe that’s why you decided to sit down across from him and share a stack of chocolate chip waffles with him that late afternoon

(you both decided to leave the five thousand dollars as a tip to the nice, old waitress that was serving you- she kept calling you “honey” and gave you extra waffles for free)

you agreed to date jaehyun and started learning about who he really is

how he’s more than just the one dimensional figure the media makes him out to be

you felt comfortable and domestic with jaehyun

but it took you a long time to trust him

once you did, jaehyun dropped to one knee and promised you himself for the rest of his life

and you knew- still know now- that he meant it

during the three years you’ve been married so far, you learned a lot about the media and how to stay out of their sights

it wasn’t that you didn’t want your relationship with jaehyun to be known to the whole world

you just didn’t feel 100% comfortable with having your name and face plastered for everyone to see

for jaehyun, who has been the face of his company and in the media for almost his whole life, this was confusing

it even caused some arguments to arise early in your relationship

but over time, jaehyun learned to understand and respect this introverted side of you

it’s now another characteristic about you that he loves

it’s part of what makes you you

the years you spent married to jaehyun were the happiest years of your life so far

he treated you fairly, respected your decisions, and when he confessed one night of how much you’ve taught him in your short few years together, you’ve never felt closer to another human being in your whole life

jung jaehyun was a blessing in disguise that people could only pray and wish for

but things were about to get a little bumpy

jaehyun had told you that morning he would be in his office late that night, a weekly occurrence that you’ve grown used to

but when you got a call from jaehyun’s private phone, his gravelly voice begging for you to come and give him company in his lonely office

how could you say no?

the chauffeur drove you to jaehyun’s company building and you stepped out of the car with a coat on, a scarf covering your mouth and your hood up

the ride up to the top floor was silent and walking through the top floor of the building was a bit creepy this late at night, not even jaehyun’s secretary was at his desk

you knock on the slightly ajar door as a smile crosses your lips

“mr. jung, you’ve got a visitor.”

jaehyun looks up from his papers, confusion morphing into happiness when he realizes it’s just you

his office is dark except for the desk lamp that sits in the corner of his table and the whole wall made of windows behind him, overlooking the downtown portion of the city below

you round the desk and jaehyun’s smile deepens as you approach him

you grip his hands and force him to stand up

“you need to stretch, jae. you’re gonna be one of those hunched-over old men when you’re older.” you tease and he laughs as his long arms stretch over his head and to the ceiling

you reach out and rub his belly, making him laugh some more and bring his hands down and around you to pull you closer

you encircle his waist with your arms, settling your face into his chest and breathing deeply

“I missed you so much” jaehyun mumbles into your hair

“you saw me this morning” you retaliate

“for ten minutes. that’s not enough for me.” he whines and you lean away to look up at him

even though you’ve been together for years, jaehyun has aged gracefully

he still looks as amazing as he did when you first saw him

your favorite feature of his has to be his hair, it’s silky properties too tempting to not run your hands through

so you do just that, and jaehyun practically purrs at your affection

in his blissful state, he leans in to sweetly kiss your lips

he removes your scarf and helps take off your coat somewhere between the kisses

his lips eventually travel down to the skin at your neck and shoulder

it’s innocent

he just wants to feel you

he misses the way your skin feels under his lips and the way your smell invades his senses

it’s still intoxicating to him and he absolutely loves it

he leans away after his slow and loving kisses, giving you a lazy smile and sitting back down in his seat, pulling you on top of him

“aren’t you supposed to be doing your work, mr. jung?” you ask as jaehyun holds you, stroking your thigh and looking out at the city through the wall of windows

“I have a guest, that would be rude.” he teases

your left hand catches his eye and he reaches out to gently grab it

your wedding ring sits nicely around your finger, the diamond on it still gleaming in the dim room with the engagement band sitting under it cozily

it’s been years, but jaehyun can’t believe that he got to put both of these rings onto your finger

his concentration is broken by a ding from his phone

it makes him jump and he turns both of you around in his chair

he reaches for his phone and opens up the message from his PR agent as you lean your head against the top of his

the peacefulness and quit atmosphere is broken when you see the contents of the text

it’s a blurry picture of you from just a few moments ago

you’re walking into the company building, your hood up and your scarf covering your face

but the ring on your left hand is painfully visible, practically glowing as you raise your hand up to keep the scarf to your mouth

the next picture is of you and jaehyun

kissing

through the windows of his office

you can tell it’s you by the coat and the scarf

and the diamond on your finger that still shines brightly

“oh my god” a hand covers your mouth when you read the rest of the message from jaehyun’s PR agent

the pictures were released to a celebrity news company and are being spread on the internet right now

jaehyun pushes you off him and strides to the curtains for the wall of windows

he furiously shuts them, the room turning darker with the absence of the city lights

jaehyun leans his hands over his head against the curtains, head bowed down and his shoulders rising and falling deeply

“jaehyun…” you try to call out to him but he doesn’t move

so you take a moment to digest what just happened

those pictures are circling around, but maybe people would stay confused long enough for jaehyun’s PR agents to think up of an excuse?

you still can’t help but feel unsettled by how your privacy was ripped away from you so suddenly and fiercely

“I’m sorry” jaehyun finally speaks up and turns around

his eyes are bloodshot and he looks completely different from how he did five minutes ago

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“jaehyun, no.” you try to say but he shakes his head

you approach him, taking hold of his hands that have fallen limp at his sides

“don’t blame yourself. I should’ve been more careful.” your try to console him, but you can tell it’s not helping. “it was about time people found out…” you trail off in a sigh

you kept your marriage a secret with jaehyun for several years

maybe you were too hopeful– too lucky to think that you could continue to be a secret part of jaehyun’s life

“I’m sorry it had to happen this way.” jaehyun hopes and prays you’ll forgive him

you say it’s okay, but the tension in your face and the slight panic that’s starting to reach your eyes makes him more anxious and worried

he’s lost so many things in his life due to the media: past girlfriends, business deals, friends, and even family…

he can’t loose you too

“let’s go home.” he says but you don’t budge

“is it…safe?” you ask

jaehyun has been surrounded by paparazzi for several years, he rarely gets nervous or frustrated with the camera flashes or the close proximity

but you’ve never had to deal with that before

you still get camera shy when jaehyun tries to take a picture of you

and just the thought of the worst case scenario happening makes jaehyun’s stomach churn and a cold sweat break out in his palms

“well, we can’t stay here…”

but when you roll your lips between your teeth and look up at him, scared and unprepared

jaehyun can’t force you to face the media now

not this suddenly and definitely not when rumors are surely going around about you

this is how you end up turning the couch in jaehyun’s office into your bed for tonight

your shoes on the ground next to you, your accessories on the coffee table, and jaehyun’s suit jacket as a makeshift blanket for you both

the couch is expensive and pretty big, but tough on your back

you’re surprised that you can fall asleep

but jaehyun lays beside you, sleep not coming as easily for him

he watches you slumber, guilt and a touch of fear pooling in his chest as he thinks about the new situation you’ve gotten yourselves into

years ago, you let yourself trust him enough to promise to stay with him for the rest of your life

jaehyun has never broken a promise, he’s made sure the trust you put into him is justified

it scares him every time fate sends an opportunity to show an act of trust his way

will you make it out with your relationship in tact this time?

before he can continue his thoughts, you shuffle in your spot next to him and crack an eye open to see that he’s still awake

“jaehyun…” you mumble, “sleep. it’ll be okay.” you mumble some more

before you can fall back into your dreams, your hand blindly reaches out to meet with jaehyun’s

you intertwine your fingers and lay your hands over your stomach, the slow rise and fall enough to calm jaehyun, even if it’s only temporarily

he rests his head against yours, nose in your hair and his heart beat against your back

yes, you’ve gone through so much in your relatively short time together

and you’ll pull through this as a couple stronger than before

everything will be okay

#jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct au #nct bulleted au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au #jaehyun bulleted au #jaehyun x reader #thank you for your request 💚

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

If someone wants to know how I can write three chapters in the span of 24 hours... I have no idea, but this is around 5k words, so ten times the length of essay I was supposed to write today. But it is more interesting.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

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They got into her room and Chloe locked the doors.

“Okay. Now you explain to me Dupain-Cheng how did you manage to get a mysterious Damian Wayne, the damned ‘Ice Prince’ of Gotham, to act like a lost puppy toward you.”

-------

Marinette almost fainted. She had an urge to mentally facepalm. Of course Chloe would recognize a celebrity. It was stupid to bring her so close to Damian on the first meeting. Maybe from the distance she would shrug it off or ignore this, but now that she saw them interact and could get a better look at him there was almost no denying it. But Marinette would still try.

“Wayne? I have no idea who are you talking about. This is Damian Grayson. He can’t be Wayne if his name is Grayson. Besides aren’t Wayne’s this rich and powerful family running an international company? Damian is not rich. He is just an exchange student…” Marinette tried to talk her way out of it, but the expecting face Chloe was making told her it was not working. “Yes, this is Damian Wayne…” The bluenette relented

“Nice try Dupain-Cheng. Maybe I would even believe you if I didn’t know better.” She stated before walking to her wardrobe. Chloe then started to toss out multiple clothes onto her giant bed.

“Wait! That’s it?” Marinette questioned. She expected… something.

“Well, while you tell me how did you melt his heart I can at least start looking for something utterly fabulous for you to wear. I can’t stand this ridiculous outfit you wear right now. So spill!”

Marinette looked at Damian and he shrugged. “tt. I am not getting involved. You brew this and you solve this.”

“I will get you back for that.” the bluenette threatened with a smile. They both knew this was mostly a tease. Marinette turned to see Chloe with three dresses. One was lemony yellow, one was smooth pink and one was deep red. “Uh… Red one?” Blonde shoved the cloth piece at the girl and pushed her into the bathroom.

“I’m waiting for a tale Dupain-Cheng.”

“Okay. Okay.” This girl has probably the best interrogation tactics I’ve ever seen… “So yesterday Damian joined our class as part of some exchange program. He decided to sit next to me and we exchanged few words. After classes his pen slipped under the desk and he had to get down to pick it up. Lila thought I was alone and decided to threaten me to stay away from him and the next thing either of us know is he held the sword to her throat. After that he asked me out and that’s the story.”

Marinette walked from the bathroom and Damian felt air leave his lungs. She wore a modest red dress that reached a bit beyond her knees. It had long sleeves that ended about one and a half inch before her wrist. The upper part was a bit darker than the lower part, but otherwise there was no decorations. It hugged her small figure perfectly, but at the same time was not restaining and allowed much space to breathe. Marinette looked beyond stunning, at least to him. Pull it together Wayne. You are not some emotional schoolgirl. You are cool and collected. You are the Prince of Assassins. Damian tried not to blush. But then there was another voice inside him. And she is your princess and your wife. Get your game together. Somehow, it sounded pretty close to Beast Boy’s voice.

“Close your mouth hunny or you will catch flies.” Chloe laughed. “It looks perfect, but I think you need one more thing.” She walked to the bluenette who was feeling a bit insecure about this look. Chloe pulled her hair bands off and let the hair flow freely. “Now you look perfect.”

“I… I don’t know.” Marinette spinned around to see herself in the mirror. “Are you sure?”

“Check the lover-boy over there and you will believe me.” Without turning Chloe pointed to Damian who was still glaring at the girl in red. An idea came to Marinette’s head. She would get her revenge faster than she expected. She slightly nodded toward Chloe’s phone that was laying nearby. Luckily, they had an understanding. Marinette turned so she was now facind Damian and looked deep into his eyes. She stood there smiling the most prominent smile she could muster. Suddenly, a flash illuminated the room. “And done. Already sent it to your phone Dupain-Cheng.”

The light finally got Damian’s brain to start up. He looked at Chloe holding a phone with camera aimed at him and Marinette giggled. “Told you I would get back at you for that.”

If it was anyone else, he would curse them, threaten them or just punch them, but strangely he couldn’t get angry at the bluenette. “Worth it.” He stated with a smug grin. “If having an embarrassing picture taken is the price to see you look so beautiful, then I am willing to pay it.” He complimented her and Marinette felt like her face turned more or less the color of her dress.

“Smooth mr. Ice Prince Charming.” Chloe commented. She then took a picture of blushing Marinette. “Now you are even. Close your mouth Dupain-Cheng. You are the one to start catching flies now.” The blonde then turned back to Damian and her face took the standard expecting look. “Now back to you. Care to explain why exactly did you decide to ask her out of all people out? You have tons of girls throwing themselves at you and yet you chose her.”

Damian didn’t answer immediately. He had to think this through. The big factor was that she was technically his wife, but through the last twenty-four hours he came to conclusion that if they weren’t married, he would still ask her out. She was… her. He had no other word for this. But his mother was in details. “She saw me as just Damian. I felt that I could be myself with her.”

“Sweet. Want some tea to this sugar?” Chloe deadpanned. “No seriously, want something to drink? I… I only ever had Sabrina in here and she drank just the tap water.”

Damian was honestly not surprised. Chloe had the Queen Bee personality and they usually only had followers, not friends. But he actually liked the no-nonsense personality. “Green Tea with half spoon of honey.” He stated and walked to the couches.

“And for you Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh… water?” Marinette was still not entirely sure what to do with this situation. Chloe was not herself while at the same time being herself. It was… strange. Blonde just shrugged and made a quick call downstairs.

“It will come soon.” She walked to the couch and sat, motioning them to do the same.

The bluenette remembered that she still had some macaroons with her so she pulled the box and placed it on the table. “Maman and papa made them for me and Damian, but you can have some too.” She nudged the box slightly toward Chloe, who reluctantly took one.

“... Thank you Dupain-Cheng.” She said after a moment of hesitation. Another tear formed in her eye. “I am truly sorry how I treated you. You did not deserve this.”

“tt. On that we can agree.” Damian almost growled. “After today don’t be surprised to see a change in teachers.”

“What?” Marinette almost jumped. “No. Madame Bustier is a good teacher.”

“She is unfit to even be in the same space as anyone below her age. This woman will be lucky if she doesn’t face criminal charges.” Damian held the urge to spit, but he didn’t want to damage anything in this room. It looked more expensive than his room at Wayne’s manor and this was saying something.

“But… But…” Marinette tried to find right words. “Madame Bustier is so lovely. She has her… original methods of teaching, but everyone would defend her in a blink of an eye.”

“tt. That doesn’t excuse her. Sadly this type of procedure usually takes years if school is not willing to cooperate. And yours definitely won’t. Bunch of idiots.” The last part was added in arabic so neither girls understood. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a moment until Marinette decided to stop beating around the bat.

“Chloe… It’s not that I don’t appreciate the change, in fact I am proud of you, but… why? what made you change so suddenly?”

The blonde shifted in her place. It was clearly an uncomfortable topic. Finally, she decided to play an open hand. Deep inside, Chloe wanted to have real friends. She saw how Damian looked at Marinette and how he spoke about her acting normal toward him. When Adrien spoked about things like this she could never understand what he meant. But now she finally got it. It was this feeling of being just herself. “I was lonely. Sabrina left me and became a loyal Lila worshipper, surpassed only by Alya. And Adrien… He cut himself off completely about a month ago. Now he plays along whatever Lila plans for him.” She had a small tear forming in her eye, but she quickly wiped it out before it ruined her makeup (not that there was much of it left). “I… I went to talk with my father, demanding he do something about the liar. But my mother was there and… and… and she laughed at me. She said that it’s utterly ridiculous and if my friends left me it’s because of me and not someone else. But the most painful part was that she was right. My friends left me and others hated me. I was completely alone. It was utterly… awful.” Marinette handed her the box so she could cheer herself with another treat. It worked. “I am so sorry Dupain-Cheng. For the first time I was on the receiving end of harsh words and painful comments. I never imagined how much it hurt.”

“Well, I am happy you realize your mistakes.” Marinette smiled and Damian clicked his tongue again.

“But,” the Wayne heir started, “it is not that easy to earn forgiveness. Just because Marinette is too good for this world does not mean I will let you exploit her good heart.”

“Damian!” The girl in question shouted at him. “I am a grown-up girl who can make her own decisions.”

“You are fifteen and have heart made of pure gold” He deadpanned.

“You are fifteen too. And we are married, so we are as adult as a person can be.” She stated in mandarin grinning at him.

“This doesn’t prove anything. And I am still your husband.” He argued.

Chloe sat there, not sure what to make of the discussion. She was about to say something when something crashed through the window. The three teens starred at the form of Chat Noir. He was looking different. His ears and tail were real instead of accesories and instead of bell on his neck he had only a choker with word ‘Marinette’ written on it.

“My Purrincess! I come to save you!”

——————————————————————————————————–

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