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mikrokcsmos · 1 year

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My Universe

synopsis; in which you get lost and Yoongi finds you.

pairing; idol!min yoongi x non-idol!reader

genre; angst, fluff, airport au

rating; PG-13

warnings; minor cursing (nothing explicit), reader has a minor panic attack, overprotective suga baby, we love a caring and attentive boi

w/c; 2,606

a/n; originally lost this entire draft and it took me three days to gain the energy and drive back to write it all over again from scratch. honestly though, I like this version better. anyways. enjoy, y’all. like/reblog and please leave some love. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOONGI. this is a repost from my old account.

Yoongi hated the flashing lights.

They always blinded his vision and made him see a plethora of stars, the kind that didn’t involve nightly activities between you two, when he saw not only stars, but galaxies. No, these were the ones that didn’t exist to the normal fellow travelers making their way through the airport around him.

He also hated being singled out. Usually the reserved and quiet one within the group, with very few words to say. He’ll admit, he’s been able to loosen up over the years cause he got used to the constant attention, the pushy reporters, the even more personal bubble bursting paparazzi that had no moral boundaries apparently to get one stupid picture of him. Even if you couldn’t see his face, they still went at each other like hungry wolves fighting for the same prey.

It sickened him. But at the same time, he knew it was their way of making a living. So, he allowed it to happen, to an extent, now choosing to mainly ignore them with his head down and earphones in. Thank goodness he has bodyguards to do most of the brunt work with keeping them at bay, so he didn’t look like the bad guy in the situation. All he had to do was swiftly walk in between the hefty men that no one would dare to get close too. Easy peasy. Smiling underneath his black mask, he thought of you, and couldn’t wait to see you.

The only problem was, you weren’t used to the constant attention, you weren’t able to push through the pushy reporters, you weren’t able to keep walking with your eyes being blinded every five seconds by a different camera. Which made you start to get heart palpitations, becoming short of breath.

You were having a panic attack.

I mean, seriously? How were you supposed to know that there was going to be a ridiculous amount of people here to see your boyfriend at nearly, your eyes glanced up at the digital clock displayed above the flight signs, 2:27 in the morning?! You grunted to yourself, your hand pushing through the crowd and surprisingly in between the security surrounding Yoongi. A little detail you also failed to consider in your obvious fool proof plan.

You were so close to Yoongi, you almost grazed the back of his black leather jacket. It was a taller, broad chested, reporter that was holding a video camera that shoved you away just as you were going too. Causing you to finally get pulled into the whirlpool of paparazzi and fans alike that were desperate to gain the rapper’s attention. Like you.

Okay, so this wasn’t your best idea at surprising Yoongi. You’ll admit. The original plan was for him to meet you at the unmarked black SUV that he would be climbing into at the end of his airport journey. Where you could embrace and catch up in private. But this time, you thought you would spice things up a little. Your idea? To surprise him inside the airport, and not tell him you were going to surprise him. Cause, well, then it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?

Bad idea. Extremely bad idea. You thought about kneeling down to try and calm yourself, but realized that could end up fatal on your part since it would make you easier to get trampled over by the herd of feet you can hear squeak, click clack and stomp on the shiny, freshly cleaned, tile. It was non-stop.

Your hands clutched the sides of your head as you whimpered, becoming over sensitive from all the constant noise. Bodies continued to brush past you, some more aggressively than most, almost throwing you off balance multiple times. You tried counting back from ten, which normally works, but not this time. You knew you only had one last resort. You had to call Yoongi.

A picture of you lit up the rapper’s phone screen. Simultaneously stopping the music he was currently listening to with his wireless bluetooth headphones and replacing it with the ringtone you picked out for your contact when you called, opting for your couple song. The picture was of you wearing an oversized hoodie that came over your knees with Yoongi’s face on it. You were sitting sideways on the couch with your bare legs curled underneath you in his private studio. One of the many pictures he cherished of you, meant for his eyes only. His heartbeat subconsciously picked up as he got the ceremonious butterflies in his stomach that never fail to appear with anything that involved you.

A monotone voice could be heard over the ringtone announcing your contact name that you gave yourself, Baby Girl 🥵. Giving him the choice of answering it or not by speaking through the headphones. Which he did, in a heartbeat. After snickering at the description of the emoji you chose, sweat emoji, you claiming that you know you always had that affect on him. You were right.

“Hey sweaty.” A quiet chuckle could be heard on his end of the phone, mentally patting himself on the back for the playful jab of your contact name in good humor. He continued talking a mile a minute.

“You would not believe the amount of people that are here so damn early. It’s actually insane. Probably the worst amount of reporters and whatnot in a long time, but I’m almost there and I can’t wait to–“

As the last body brushed against you rather aggressively, it caused you to stumble harshly forward onto the tiled floor, hands catching your fall and knees taking the brunt force of it all. You let out a broken whimper, only catching bits and pieces of Yoongi’s ramblings through the phone that laid a few feet ahead of you on the floor due to your sudden impact. You reached out and clutched it tightly with your fingers, pushing your body up in a semi sitting position, much like the one that can be seen in your contact photo in Yoongi’s phone. One hand flat against the tile, propping your upper body up. Legs curled next to you, sideways. All you wanted to do was cry out of frustration at everything going wrong. So, you did.

Staring down at the rare pearly white smile that beamed at you for your eyes only, used as Yoongi’s contact photo in your phone, only made your watery eyes overflow with tears that streaked down your cheeks in little rivers. Breaths slightly becoming shorter, making you gasp out a sob involuntarily. You quickly put the phone on speaker and set it on the floor in front of you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold it much longer.

His rambling was abruptly cut off, ears straining to hear what he thought he heard, though it was hard to be sure from all the raucous noise surrounding him. He went to speak again, but stopped himself when he for sure heard your watery gasp through the phone. His smile wiped off his face in an instant, turning to one of worry.

“Baby? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” The questions flew out instinctually, him wanting to solve the situation as fast as possible. He knew you were having a panic attack. He could feel it in his gut as soon as he heard you, having helped you through them in the past.

He stopped his brisk walking pace and stood stock still, nearly making the security guard that was positioned directly behind him, plow into him, before catching his footing in time to avoid his client. He closed his eyes to try and get any clue from your end of the phone when you wouldn’t respond to him. As much as he wanted to freak out, he knew he had to stay the calm one between you two in order to find you before it got worse. He bit his lip in frustration, zoning out the nagging from his security guards to get him to continue on his foot path to the end destination, nearly wanting to let out a cry of his own when he heard it.

The same announcement over the airport loudspeakers that littered every corner of the building he was in, something to do about a travel package to Hawaii, he could hear echo through your side of the phone back at him. Okay, he thought rationally, so you were somewhere within the airport. That much could be certain. Now he needed just a little bit more to figure out where exactly you were located within the huge facility. Maybe…a sign? He thought logically. So, he asked you.

“Sweetie, you think you can read me some sort of sign near you so I can find you and help you? Please? I know it might be hard, but you can do it, baby. I believe in you. You got this.” He asked in his soothing voice he knows can get through to you in your current state of mind. Semi loud so you can hear what he says, but slowly and clearly.

You didn’t respond right away. Shaky and watery eyes immediately surveyed your surroundings in search of some kind of unique sign that could directly implicate your position on this tile floor that seems to get colder by the minute. You could literally feel the many pairs of eyes that walked by you on faces connected to bodies that didn’t even try to reach out and help you in the slightest. What a cruel world we live in, you thought bitterly. Though, you wondered, if you were in their shoes, would you have done any differently? And that thought alone sobered you up immediately. A fresh new set of tears falling down your cheeks in streams now.

There it was, the sign you were looking for. Directly above your head, ironically. It was a picture of a smiling, and blended family, much like your own, you thought with a watery smile. In bright red letters, and a snazzy font, it read ‘Family Doesn’t End With Blood’. You managed to somewhat clearly reiterate the sign you just read to your ever patient boyfriend, hoping and praying to all that is holy that it’ll be enough and you can soon be in the comfort of his arms.

As soon as he heard the words fall out of your mouth he opened his eyes and slowly turned his body in a circle, reading every sign his eyes found hoping that the next one he reads will be the one you just told him.

Bingo.

It wasn’t even that far from where he stood. He immediately pushed through the last throes of the crowd surrounding him, or what remained. It seemed like half splintered off upon getting what they needed from him already. He didn’t even care what the remaining vultures thought of him, or what berating he’ll surely receive from his head of security once they find out he fled them of his own accord. All he cared about was finding you, making sure you were safe, calming you, and holding you in his arms.

It’s like the life you two shared ran through his mind in flashes, like a reel of a film. It spurred him to pump his legs even harder, especially when he noticed the lone figure that half lay beneath the sign. Getting closer he could see how fast your chest rose and fell, the tears that littered your flushed cheeks, and your eyes that widened upon landing on him coming towards you. He could visibly see your body sag in relief, which made his heart flutter knowing he could make you feel so calm in a matter of a look. It was the same way with you, for him.

He slid the last few feet in front of you on his knees. Not wasting any time, he began searching your body for any kind of wounds or minor injuries that could’ve triggered your attack, hands hovering over every bit of your body he examined. He found none, except your hands and knees scraped up a bit. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Good. Now to calm you down.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here, and you did so well. I’m so proud of you.” He praised you with a look so full of warmth, you couldn’t help but give a small, shaky smile in response. Feeling like a little kid again, you reached out to him with grabby hands. I need you now. A silent demand.

He encased your body with his arms, and gently pushed your head to lay where his heart is with one hand on the back of your head, the other brought your body impossibly closer than it already was, making you half lay on him now. With him supporting your body weight completely, you slumped into him in pure exhaustion, eyes closing and hands gripping the back of his jacket like you would never see him again after you departed. After a mere 4-5 minutes of listening to his heartbeat, your breathing returned to normal. Your eyes dried up. Your body regained its strength back.

You tried to unwrap yourself from him, but his response was to grip onto you even tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. So, you let him. Returning the embrace with as much passion as he was. You lost track of how much time passed there on that tile floor, that oddly, didn’t feel as cold anymore.

It wasn’t until the head of Yoongi’s security cleared his throat loudly, did you look up from your position still attached to the rapper. Yoongi didn’t even flinch, making no attempt to acknowledge the man. Which left things in your hands. He stood off to the side of you two with his hands clasped together in front of his stomach, posture rigid, but eyes letting you know that he understood why your boyfriend broke the rules. He nodded at you once making eye contact and tilted his head in the direction of where the car garage was, subtly telling you that you guys needed to get up and it was time to go. Then he left, footsteps receding until you could hear them no more. That’s when you finally managed to get the rapper’s attention.

“Yoongs, can we go home now?” You asked meekly, voice sounding weak due to not getting much use of it for awhile. Your eyes must’ve been puffy for sure. They took the most damage.

You could feel him nod his head in the crook of your neck and reluctantly let you go. Yoongi stood up first, then extended his hand out to you to help you up off the floor. Gripping onto it tightly, you managed to raise yourself back up on your feet. He refused to let go of your hand even after you were up, instead opting to pull you flush to his side. You gave him a small smile of thanks, squeezing his hand, your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other without words. He squeezed your hand back twice. ‘I love you too’. Your other hand finding purpose in the crook of his elbow, holding it gently yet firmly, you leaned into his side.

And then you walked in sync towards the car garage in the now unnaturally calm atmosphere, security once again flanking the both of you now.

Just two lovers wanting nothing more than to collapse into each other in their shared bed, at their shared home, where they can create their own little universe of stars only they could see.

#min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #jungkook angst #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #fic; my universe #masterlist; old account #main masterlist #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

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My Universe

pairing; idol!min yoongi x non-idol!reader

genre; angst, fluff

rating; 18+

warnings; minor cursing (nothing explicit), reader has a minor panic attack, overprotective suga baby, we love a caring and attentive boi

w/c; 2,606

Yoongi hated the flashing lights.

You were having a panic attack.

Bingo.

“Yoongs, can we go home now?” You asked meekly, voice sounding weak due to not getting much use of it for awhile. Your eyes must’ve been puffy for sure. They took the most damage.

And then you walked in sync towards the car garage in the now unnaturally calm atmosphere, security once again flanking the both of you now.

Just two lovers wanting nothing more than to collapse into each other in their shared bed, at their shared home, where they can create their own little universe of stars only they could see.

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babyboibucky · 3 years

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Devil’s Mark: Lead Me Into Temptation

Pairing: CleanRockstar!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your chose to give up everything to be with Bucky.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Knife play, carving, marking, blood (not period blood okay), tasting said blood, pain kink, oral sex (M receiving), face fucking, tea-bagging, thigh riding, toxic relationship obviously, bible references as usual

A/N: Like I said, this AU owns me??? Whenever new rockstar pics are released my brain instantly goes into a mayhem and I can’t NOT write shit based on those photos. Anyway, enjoy sinning in this one skskksks

Devil’s Mark Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

You should have been ashamed at how quickly you decided to leave everything behind— your family, your work and your so-called friends, your beliefs and dignity.

All because of Bucky and you were not embarrassed by it. In fact, you were proud of it and you wore it like a badge of honor, quite literally actually. Bucky’s initials that were carved on your left collarbone never failed to remind you who you belong to.

You bled for it and went through the pain when Bucky pressed the tip of his knife onto your skin and used it to permanently mark you with his name. The pain was unlike any other but it was fucking worth it when Bucky rewarded you for being his good, little pet.

“You did so fucking good for me, munchkin.” Bucky cooed, sitting back and admiring his work.

The letters BB looked good on your skin, they were still red but written clearly enough for everyone to see. Tears continued to streak on your cheeks as you caught your breath, having to hold it in as you endured through the process of being marked.

“Aww, is my munchkin in pain?” he teased, wiping away your tears.

You shook your head, “I can take it.” you rasped out, sniffing and ignoring the burning sensation of the lacerations on your décolletage.

Bucky chuckled darkly and pressed a kiss on your neck, sucking your skin as his hand worked its way inside your skirt. His fingers tapped against the first mark he had given you while his mouth slid down to your throat.

“Such a good, little pet you are.” he hummed against your skin.

A combination of a gasp and a moan slipped past your lips when Bucky cupped your clothed cunt, pressing the pad of his palm against your already throbbing clit. He grunted in satisfaction when he felt how moist you had gotten.

Pulling back, Bucky looked at you with amusement. “Did the pain turn you on?” he asked.

You didn’t even know it was possible, you didn’t notice how damp it was between your legs until Bucky asked you about it. Not knowing what to say, you merely shrugged and bit your lip from embarrassment.

“Leave it to me to figure it out, munchkin.” Bucky said before bending down to lick at your fresh wound, humming at the tangy taste of your blood on his tongue.

The sting that you felt went straight to your core and left goosebumps all over your body. Hissing from both pain and pleasure, you threw your head back and found purchase on Bucky’s shoulders. It confused you at first, why the pain aroused you to the point of completely soaking your panties.

But when Bucky’s fingers began to rub your folds, you didn’t bother understanding your arousal anymore.

“Damn, didn’t expect for my munchkin to be a fuckin’ freak. You like it when it hurts, don’t you?” Bucky asked as he sat up straight.

His tongue and lips still had some of your blood, and the sight of Bucky wiping it with his thumb and sucking on it had you whimpering.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you, munchkin.”

The day that Bucky marked you like that was the same day you had surrendered everything to him like he was a god. You never looked back since then, didn’t have an ounce of regret nor fear at what the future holds for you now that you were reeled into his world.

Everything about you changed— the way you dressed and presented yourself, your likes and dislikes. Bucky gloated at how much you willingly let him take control of you and your decisions.

You’d spent your entire life being constricted by so many rules that turned you into a person you never wanted to be in the first place. Don’t wear that, you look like a whore. Pray and repent for your sins every night, we don’t want a sinner in this family. Stay away from temptation, you don’t want to burn in hell.

It was ironic how you let the devil into your life but still got a glimpse of heaven.

A smirk tugged at your rouge-painted lips as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You had never looked like yourself until now and you had Bucky to thank. He unraveled the truest version of you, helped you discover things you never knew you enjoyed, made you feel and bask in emotions you had suppressed for years.

Your finger traced the leather collar around your neck, something you considered a symbol of freedom rather than a restraint.

Bucky’s voice calling for you put an end to your pondering. Giving yourself one last look, you made sure to look your best before stepping out of the bathroom.

Your heels clacked as you walked into the bedroom of Bucky’s trailer, quickly catching his attention as he lounged on his bed in nothing but a pair of tight and stringed, leather shorts. His eyes darkened when he saw you, trapping his bottom lip in between his teeth as he got up to approach you.

A breath got caught in your throat when Bucky towered over you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You faltered under his predatory gaze and looked away, feeling bare and exposed because of the outfit he had asked you to wear: a black see through bralette, a matching thong and a pair of black stilettos. The collar he had given you was also attached to a belted chest harness that you had adjusted to accentuate your breasts.

“Fuck, knew my pet would look so damn good in that.” Bucky complimented, rubbing his stubbled chin as he took in your appearance.

He grabbed his silver chain from the bed and grunted when he heard your tiny gasp, loving how you got so fucking excited whenever he brought it out. Bucky smirked as he tipped your chin, thumbing your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick around.

“You wanna play, huh?” he asked before gently slapping the side of your breast.

You nodded enthusiastically, humming in excitement as Bucky continued to tease you. He clicked his tongue and took a step back, “Wanna hear my pet speak up.” he said.

“I wanna play, Bucky.” you immediately responded, looking at him with doe eyes and practically begging for him to leash you.

“That’s my pretty, lil’ munchkin.” Bucky praised, lifting your chin up so he could attach the chain onto the ring hanging at the middle of your collar.

Bucky caught you off guard when he harshly tagged on the chain, bringing you down onto your knees with a loud thud. His leather shorts already had a tent and the sight of Bucky’s thick, tattooed thighs instantly made you wet.

“Untie the strings, munchkin.” Bucky said, his hand still holding the chain while his other caressed your hair.

You lifted your hands up but they were quickly swatted away. When you looked at Bucky, he was grinning at you mischievously, “Use your mouth.” he said.

Gripping his thighs for leverage, you leaned forward and bit the edge of the string and pulled at it. You used your tongue and hooked it under the strings, lifting it up until it was loose. Bucky groaned at the sight of you on your knees, obeying his every command.

“You can use your hands now, munchkin. You’ve been such a good girl, go ahead and suck my cock. It’s all yours.” Bucky urged, exhaling through his nose when you didn’t waste any time and pulled his shorts down.

Spitting on the tip of his cock, you watched your saliva drip down to the shaft before licking the underside. You traced the prominent vein with your tongue, batting your eyelashes at Bucky whose mouth dropped open when you took his head into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, shit.” he hissed, scrunching his face in pleasure when you added your hand into the mix to fondle his balls.

“God, munchkin. You’re a fuckin’ sinner.” he breathily chuckled, gathering your hair behind your head into a ponytail.

“You gonna let me fuck your mouth?” he asked, moving his hips away from your lips.

Bucky snickered when your head followed his hips, not wanting to let go of his cock that was throbbing inside your mouth. He gripped your hair tight and yanked your head back until his cock slipped out and slapped against his abdomen. Your spit mixed with his pre-cum forming a string that connected the tip of his dick to your lips. Bucky tugged your head further away until your spit landed onto your chin and neck, dribbling down to coat his now fully-healed initials on your collarbone.

“How d’you want me to fuck your mouth, munchkin?” he asked, keeping his grip on your hair tight and painful.

“Fast, please.” you breathed out, licking your lips as you stared at his weeping, hard cock.

“Yeah, you want me to use your mouth and make myself cum?” he asked again.

You weren’t even finished nodding your head when Bucky pulled your face back down to his crotch. Your jaw ached when you opened your mouth wide, welcoming his cock back into your mouth until the tip hit the back of your throat.

Choking on his dick, your fingernails dug into Bucky’s thighs, creating dents that were easily hidden beneath his tattoos. Your eyes watered when Bucky held you in place for a few seconds before finally beginning to thrust his hips.

Wet, gaging sounds and Bucky’s moans filled the air as he fucked your mouth roughly. Saliva began to spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to your chin and then the floor beneath you. Your tears escaped from your eyes and messed up your make-up, your mascara running down your cheeks, painting it a dark grey and mixing together with the smeared lipstick around your mouth.

“So fucking greedy for my cock, you’re such a slut.” Bucky grunted as he continued to fuck your face, ignoring the way your nostrils flared whenever you attempted to breathe through your nose. You blinked the tears away when you felt Bucky’s cock pulsate inside your mouth. The way his hips stuttered was a sign that he was close, and knowing how Bucky wanted to finish, you tugged his wrists away from your hair and started bobbing your head as you sucked him harder.

“Get under, I want to see my cum all over your innocent face.” Bucky demanded and began fisting his cock as you licked and sucked his balls.

You kept your eyes on Bucky the entire time, just waiting for him to make a mess on your face. The look of pleasure on his face always did it for you, always made you soak and drip for him. The fact that it was you making him feel this way, it gave you a sense of fulfillment. His brows would furrow, his nose would scrunch up and he would snarl and growl at you whenever he was close to his climax.

You loved it, loved seeing a man like him lose himself in you and on you.

“Yes, fuck!” Bucky groaned, taking a step back before aiming his cock onto your face, spurting his release all over you.

“Stick your tongue out, munchkin...yeah, fuck. Just like that, good girl.” he whispered, jerking his cock and letting more of his cum land on your tongue.

Bucky pulled his shorts back up and sat down on the foot of the bed, grabbing his phone and then opening the camera app. Like his good pet, you remained on your knees and didn’t bother cleaning up your face.

“C’mere, munchkin.” Bucky softly said, taking the chain in his hand as he watched you crawl towards here.

“Let me take a photo of you, fuck. You look so damn pretty like that, all fucked up and dirty. What a whore.” he chuckled and gripped your face in one hand, angling your face before snapping a couple of photos.

He threw his phone aside and leaned back, gazing at you with a satisfied smile. You returned the smile and started wiping your face with both your hands, gathering all his cum before bringing it into your mouth without breaking your eye contact with Bucky.

You sucked your fingers clean before proceeding to lick your palms, humming at the taste of Bucky.

You used to be an angel, such a pure soul but all that purity flew right out of the window when you met him. Now, your wings have been cut off and that landed you straight onto the devil’s lap.

“You really know how to make me happy, munchkin.” Bucky praised. “I knew it was right to keep you.” he added, tipping his head at you.

“Come, munchkin. Gotta reward you for being an obedient pet, of course. Why don’t you sit that pretty pussy on my thigh, rub yourself on me. Make that pussy purr.” he said, patting his thigh.

You crawled closer to him and held onto his knees as you stood up. You slightly winced in pain, your knees were red and bruised from being on the ground. Bucky gripped your leash and tugged on it, pulling you down until his thigh was slotted in between your legs.

A moan slipped past your swollen lips when your clothed cunt pressed against Bucky’s thigh. He laughed when he felt how fucking wet you were, your juices immediately soaking his skin, making his tattoo glisten with it.

“Ride my thigh, go ahead. Cum whenever you want.” he said.

You did as you were told and started moving your hips back and forth, moaning wantonly at the friction. You didn’t bother removing your thong, you were too aroused to do that. The throbbing in your pussy only grew with every movement, creating a delicious coil in your abdomen.

Bucky’s eyes kept on moving from your face to your pussy, watching you proudly as you tried to get yourself off. Your breasts bounced with emphasis thanks to the harness and your nipples were pebbled against the sheer fabric of your bralette.

“Bucky…” you whimpered, holding onto his shoulders as you quickened your pace— back and forth, back and forth, side to side.

Your juices were dripping down already, creating a vulgar, squelching sound whenever you moved. The hairs on Bucky’s thigh were also adding to your pleasure, allowing you to come closer and closer to your end.

“Yeah, you gonna cum? Cumming already, munchkin?” Bucky teased, yanking your leash to bring your lips down to his.

He licked your parted mouth before biting your lower lip, tugging at it until it bled. Bucky sucked on your lip before kissing you messily. You moaned into his mouth when you tasted your blood; it quickly mixed with Bucky’s release, creating a unique flavor that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Gonna cum, Bucky.” you whined, moving your hips faster and rougher against his thigh.

“Go on, munchkin. Give it to me, soak my fuckin’ thigh with your cream. C’mon.” he growled as he pinched your nipple.

The pressure in your abdomen exploded and made your entire body buzz from immense pleasure as you came. Electricity ran through your veins, starting from your fingertips down to your toes as they curled. Wetness gushed out of your sopping cunt, completely soaking Bucky’s thighs and the bedsheets beneath.

Your high-pitched moan was like music to Bucky’s ears; his smile was from ear to ear as he watched you get lost in your pleasure, your head tilted back as your nails left scratches on his shoulders down to his chest.

“That’s it, munchkin. Look at this mess…” Bucky pointed out, looking at his drenched thigh and your ruined thong.

Your chest continued to heave as you caught your breath, your eyelids fluttering from mere exhaustion. Bucky started pressing light kisses on your chest, throat and jaw while his hands began to caress the sides of your thighs.

Bucky’s praises and sweet words were your gospel, his grunts were your choir.

And you? Your body was his temple.

“You know I’d fuck you until you were dumb, but I got a concert.” Bucky sighed, helping you get off from his thigh.

“You wanna come and watch?” he asked.

The way his eyes narrowed at you was meaningful, you knew that Bucky was up to something. Whatever it was that he had in mind, you always looked forward to it.

You nodded in response, “I’ll go get changed.” you said and was about to walk away until Bucky grabbed your leash again, stopping you from doing so.

He tutted as he pulled you close, not caring whether you stumbled on your feet. Bucky caressed your face and fixed your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear before winking at you.

“I didn’t tell you to get changed, munchkin.” he said, lifting a brow at you.

“How ‘bout I take you out on a walk?”

Bucky could take you anywhere and you’d let him. Hell, he could keep you leashed and you wouldn’t even bat an eye. Truth was, Bucky could lead you anywhere he wants and you would follow him like a loyal disciple.

He had already led you into temptation, you might as well follow him to the pits of hell.

#bbb writes #devil's mark #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

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cloudraker · 2 years

Note

Time to add to the valentine's queue. 💌 for Nickel. >:)

Happy valentines day! Here's your request <3

💌 - person a receives a love note from their secret admirer and makes it their mission to find out who it is

Doctors Note

Staring down at the note in your hands, you were left with a few options. You had woken up from your nap to find said note laid next to your head, handwriting messy and seemingly written in a rush, corners crinkled. On one hand, there were only about six people who could have written this, seven if you included the pet but you doubted he could hold a pen, but none of them really seemed like viable options. On the other hand, the six people (possibly seven, depending on who you asked) on board the Peaceful Tyranny didn’t seem like the type of bots to write something like this. Except maybe for Tarn, but he was too busy doing whatever it was he did while holed up in his office.

So that left five (six?) to choose from. The note, while being as sweet as it was straight to the point, hadn’t been signed. And due to the size of the note, which was roughly the size of a large dinner plate, which was still considerably small by Cybertronian standards, that ruled out Helex and Tesaurus as well. They were nice enough mechs, but the difference in size between them and this paper was a bit far fetched. As for Vos, he could barely speak speak your language, let alone write in it.

It seemed like your options had been limited for you, the only two possibilities left being Kaon and Nickel. Standing from your makeshift bed, comically large note in hand, you set off to find one or the other.

Kaon was the first you came upon. Your quest taking you to the ships common room, he was there with the pet, listening to a video on a datapad in a language you didn’t recognize.

Clearing your throat to announce your presence, he startled a bit in response as the Pet’s head shot up at the noise.

“Oh! Hello, (Y/n), I didn’t see you come in there,” he greeted smoothly, pausing his video and chuckling at his own joke. “What can I do for you.”

Stepping closer, you screwed up your face as a blast of hot air came your way as the Pet leaned in to say hello. “Hey, I was just wondering if you saw who left this note in my room?” The Decepticon hummed in thought. “Well, I don’t see much of anything these days, but I can assure you it wasn’t me that wrote to you.” The red bot turned his attention back to the mechanimal at his side. “Besides, the Pet probably would’ve chewed up anything I wrote, if I had written anything.” Fair enough, you supposed. Excusing yourself, Kaon bid you farewell before resuming his video.

‘Well, if it wasn’t Kaon, then it must have been...’ Your thoughts trailed off as you reached your second and final destination. The med bay. You could faintly hear the clacking of metal from inside, figuring somebody must be inside getting a tune up.

Passing through the automatic door as it opened with a soft whoosh, you were greeted by the sight of Tesaurus seating on a nearly comically undersized medical table, Nickel digging around in the blades seated in his abdomen. The large mech payed you little mind, grumbling about whatever it was the medic was goading him about.

“I don’t know why I even bother cleaning you out, you don’t care enough to keep it clean!” She huffed, finally turning her head towards the door. Realizing it was you who had come in, she faltered slightly, optics shuttering in a version of rapid blinking. Regaining her composure, the minibot pointed to the side of the room. “Wait there until I’m done.”

It didn’t take long for her to finish, wiping her stained hands on a nearby cloth. Tesaurus seemed to be trying to make a hasty escape, shuffling towards the door that at a pace that could be considered a slow speedwalk. Not content to allow this, Nickel shouted at him over her shoulder from across the room. “And keep it clean! I’m tired of picking fingers out of you!”

You cringed slightly as the lumbering giant finally made it to safety as the door closed behind him. Setting down the cloth, Nickel finally turned her attention to you. Rolling over from the table she had been working at, she crouched down to better hear you.

“And what’s wrong with you?” She asked, brow raised but without any real bite in her voice.

Sifting through the pockets on your pants, you pulled out the rather large piece of paper, coming out more crumpled than it was going in, and held it up so she could see. “Did you write this?”

Realization flashed in her eyes and she sighed, straightening up and wheeling back a few paces. “Yes, I did,” she reset her vocalizer in a version of clearing her throat. There wasn’t any point in lying, it seemed. “I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly though.”

You shrugged, face a little bit warmer than when the conversation had started. “It wasn’t hard, to be honest. You’re the only one besides Kaon that could’ve written it and I already asked him.” Folding up the paper neatly, you tucked it back into the safety of your pockets.

“And what did you think of it?” You looked back up to find Nickel adverting her gaze, staring down at the floor in front of you. “Of the note, I mean.” There was an uncharacteristic crackle of static at the end of the sentence. In all your time you had known Nickel, you had known her to be confident in both her actions and her words. This, it seemed, was something new to both of you.

“I liked it,” you replied simply, face warming further. “I’ll admit, I never expected you to feel the same way, but I’m glad you do. More than glad, actually.”

Nickel looked up at you, brow knit. “Feel the same w- Oh!” Her blue eyes widened slightly, and a small smile formed on her face.

You returned her smile easily, stepping closer and craning her neck to look up at her. “After you’re done cleaning, do you wanna maybe watch a movie together or something?” “I’d like that.” “Then it’s a date!”

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #nickel #mtmte nickel #valentines event

43 notes · View notes

cupajoscafe · 3 years

Text

Hey everyone, I hope you’re having a fantastic Saturday!! I’m here with my part of the BNHArem server’s March collab!! This month’s theme was a Sex Worker AU and I had LOADS of fun with this!! You can check out the masterlist for all the amazing entries to this collab, make sure you check ‘em all out!!

So I’m actually really nervous about posting this piece for two reasons. First being that I’m not confident in my writing but I needed context for this art so I needed to write a drabble to go with it, since the idea that I had was VERY specific and couldn’t be expressed through the art alone. Second being that this isn’t a typical “character x reader/viewer” piece, as this has my BNHA OC in reader’s place. I’m very nervous that this is gonna get a lot of backlash and people are gonna be in my inbox all up in my ass over how they can’t imagine themselves in my OCs place or whatever. But this idea was just so perfect. It’s actually based on an RP I’m doing with my friend @nyrocwrites and this was just too good to pass up.

I also wanna shout out @lady-bakuhoe for helping me with the pose idea!! I had no idea how to approach this drawing at first and Jo gave me a wonderful little stick figure sketch that really helped me figure out exactly what I wanted to do. Thank you so much Jo I don’t deserve you 😭😭💜💜

Anyways enough of my rambling!! On with the collab piece!! Since this is relatively SFW I don’t have to post a censored version YAY!! Drabble under the cut!!

Warnings: Nothing explicit, just some flirty banter and suggestive themes. KamiJirou and Bakugou x OC

Word Count: 826

It wasn't fucking fair.

They were already here for Dunce Face's bachelor party. He already had a fucking fiancée. Hell, he had probably gotten laid that morning. So in what fucking universe was it fair at all for Dunce Face to be all over the dancer that he had been eyeing all fucking night? And why was she paying no mind to him after getting him riled up and teasing him all fucking night?

It wasn't fucking fair.

The bubble on her lips popped and she pulled the gum into her mouth, running her tongue along her lips to collect it. "Damn, your fiancée is one lucky lady." She cooed, leaning over the edge of the stage to close some of the space between her and Kaminari. He waved the bill around in his fingers and grinned up at her, his cheeks flushed red from the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed in the last hour. Bubblegum slid her tongue over her teeth, the stud of her tongue ring clacking lightly against bone. "How would she react if she found out you were dropping so much money on a gal like me, huh?"

The words fell like honey from her lips; sweet and melodious. The fact that she was talking to Kaminari like that instead of him had his blood boiling. Bakugou hastily fished his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a thousand yen bill. She didn't even bat an eye. She just kept her gaze locked on Denki as if to piss him off even more. If that hadn't tipped him over the edge, then the shit-eating grin on her face absolutely did. Bakugou snarled angrily and shoved the money into his pocket.

"Fuck this." He announced, pushing off the velvet seating near the stage and standing up on his feet. "I'm gettin' another fuckin' drink."

It wasn't fucking fair.

Bubblegum watched with an impish grin as the ash-blond man stomped off towards the bar where his other friends were stationed and she snorted, shifting her doe-eyed gaze down to the bachelor beneath her.

"What do you think, Blondie? Did I push it too far?" She asked, reaching a hand out to brush his cheek with her painted fingernails.

"He's definitely into you. I think you won." He giggled, the money bill still caught between his fingers. "Have fun. Please don't break my friend."

She parted her lips and leaned forward to snatch the bill in between her teeth, looking over to the bar where she saw him hunched over and ordering a drink. With a chuckle, Bubblegum pulled away and took the bill from her mouth and stuffed it into her bra, then leaned down to place a kiss on Kaminari's lips.

"Thanks for playing along." She whispered, then winked at him and pushed herself back up onto the stage to finish her routine.

Of course he watched the rest of her routine from the bar. He couldn't keep his damn eyes off of her. The way she slid down the pole, the way she flipped her hair, the way her ass hung out of her panties. He especially couldn't keep his eyes off the way her tits bounced as she walked over to him when her routine was done. He swallowed down his whiskey sour and winced at the sharp burning in his throat, narrowing his eyes as she approached him at the bar.

She looked good enough to eat.

It wasn't fucking fair.

"Come here to bat your eyelashes at me again, you fuckin' cocktease?" He snipped, watching carefully as she took her place on the seat next to him. The bartender was already making her usual Vodka on the Rocks.

"I think I've teased you enough for one night, haven't I, hotshot?" She hummed, lifting her drink up to her painted red lips. Bubblegum smiled at him and Bakugou scoffed, chugging down the last of his drink and slamming the glass down on the bar top.

"So what the fuck do you want then, hah?"

She looked him up and down and leaned her head in the palm of her hand, smiling coyly and letting her eyes land on his lips.

"How's about a private dance? Just you and me."

He perked up and loosened his shoulders a little, returning her glances and letting his crimson eyes rest on the choker on her neck. Oh, how he wanted his hand wrapped around her throat instead. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he smirked wolfishly down at her, pulling her up by her waist and holding her body against his.

"I guess comin' out to Dunce Face's stupid bachelor party wasn't such a shitty idea after all."

Bubblegum threw her head back and laughed, then knocked back the rest of her drink and pulled Bakugou off to one of the velvet rooms for a private dance, just the two of them.

Maaaaaybe this time it was fair.

#my art #bnharem collab #my hero artcademia #my herOC academia

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

imagine like riding harry and he’s choking you and mocking you bc you can barely move your hips bc it feels too good. and then you have to beg him to fuck up into you 🥵🥵

Word Count: 3,021

A/N: This was also partially inspired by another anon request I got that read :

‘one where Harry and yn doing a painting with a twist or bob ross painting together but making it a bit smutty’

Warning: SMUT!!!!!!!!! lots of smut!! Choking, dom behavior. Just nasty.

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

And don’t forget to let me know what you think! Enjoy.

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

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Loving You Is Art

Quality time with Harry was few and far between these days. It seemed that the two of you were constantly being pulled apart in every which direction, what with him preparing for a new album release and your career finally gaining momentum. You were lucky if you were even able to sit down at the end of the day and eat a meal together without interruption. You should be used to it by now after two years of dating, but it never got any easier.

He tried his best; leaving a note for you on the kitchen counter in the morning next to a pot of coffee, sending little texts throughout the day, and calling to warn you if he’d be late. Communication was important to you and he made an effort to show it. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. You missed him.

So, you decided to surprise him. You’d planned tonight for two weeks now, making sure to get caught up on your work, calling Harry’s manager to ask him if he could please not plan too much on this particular Friday without tipping your boyfriend off, and order in all the supplies for your date night. You wanted to make it extra special so when Harry walked in the door he’d not only be surprised, but excited.

He had texted you when he left his meeting and you knew you had about fifteen minutes to get it ready. Quickly, you spread an enormous tarp across the floor of your living room, dragging in two chairs, two easels, two canvases, a large canvas sheet that you spread over the floor, and a table with paintbrushes, a cup of water, and various paints. Lastly, you stripped out of your clothes and put on only three items. A black, silk robe, a pair of black strappy heels, and Harry’s pearl necklace, twisting your hair up into a clip and letting the strands drape back down. As you poured two glasses of wine, you heard the door open and close, heavy footsteps making their way further into the home you both shared.

“Baby? What’s all this?” you heard his voice echo down the hall.

The clacking of your heels caught his attention as you made your way in, wine glasses in hand, and the confused smile on his face shifted, replaced with wide eyes and his mouth falling open.

“Hi,” you smirked, pecking at the corner of his mouth. He leaned into you as you pulled away, disappointed that you parted from him so quickly, taking the glass of wine that you offered. “Strip,” you simply said, sitting on a chair that was positioned in front of one of the easels, taking a sip of your wine.

He didn’t need any further explanation, quickly doing what he was told. You giggled under your breath at his eagerness as he kicked his shoes off and practically tore the shirt off of his torso, exposing his black ink-riddled tattoos, undressing until all that was left was his boxers. Your smirk grew, placing your wine glass on the table beside your easel and standing up. Keeping your eye contact, you lifted the end of the strap that had held your robe shut, looping it through your fingers, teasingly. His eyes darted from your face, down towards your hand, and back up again as you shifted your weight on your heels.

“All the way,” you nodded towards him, your voice low and sultry, and with one hard tug, you ripped your sash away, letting your robe come undone and flitter to the ground at your feet.

Harry froze for a moment, staring at your naked body, the way your legs looked in your heels and noting how his pearls looked against your bare chest. He gulped, speechless, unable to move until you sat back down on your chair, crossing your legs, leaning back, and pulling your glass of wine back to your lips. If you blinked, you would have missed it. His boxer briefs were halfway across the room a second later, his cock large and erect, bouncing as he hustled to his chair and sat.

He seemed to understand what was going on as you each grabbed a brush, but you explained it anyway, “Paint me,” you grinned, making him smile.

“I won’t be able to do you justice,” he looked you up and down with a smirk, looking at the color options, “Especially with only three colors.”

You giggled, dipping your brush into the black paint, “Do your best.”

You lightly began blotting and stroking the color onto the canvas, occasionally looking up at him in an attempt to get a general outline first. You weren’t a great artist, he knew this. That’s why you didn’t even bother getting a large selection of colors. Most of the artwork in your home was more modernized with a combination of abstract and contemporary, anyway. So you decided to stick with the theme and colors which were black, white, and hints of a baby blue.

You tried to focus your painting more on his torso, from his chin down to his pelvic area, just where his pubic hair began to form. You peered at him through your eyelashes and bit your bottom lip at the sight of his abs tightening and relaxing as he went to town on his canvas, widely brushing his paint onto his canvas.

“Done!” he exclaimed, throwing his brush into the cup of water.

You snapped out of your trance, your mouth opened wide in indignation, “There’s no way!”

“I am!” he declared, a confident smirk on his face, “You told me to paint you, so I did!”

“Let me see!” you demanded, gripping your paintbrush in hand, black paint beginning to drip down the handle.

Confidently, Harry picked his painting off the easel and turned it around to face you. Your eyes rolled wildly when you saw what he had done. He painted the background black, and in baby blue paint drew a childlike version of tits that looked like two u’s with dots for nipples.

“Great. Well done, you twat,” you joked, flinging the paint that was on the end of your brush in his direction which splattered on his painting, also hitting his chest and thigh.

He shrieked, staring at the paint that hand landed on him before looking up with a mischievous smile. “Oh, is that how we’re playing it? Sabotage?” he gaped, head tilted as he reached for another paintbrush, dipping it into the white.

“Harry!” you threatened, giggling, hands up in defense, “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I?” he mocked, holding his paintbrush back in ready, “Last I checked, you were the one who threw the first punch.” And he launched the paint towards you, white paint splattering across your neck, chest, and arm.

You yelped, quickly standing up in shock that he had done it. Harry cackled at the expression on your face as you slowly looked up at him, mouth ajar. Your eyes flickered to the bottles of paint that sat on the table in between you and he noticed, watching you as a light had clicked in your brain.

“No!” he warned.

But you were too quick. In a split second, you had managed to grab the bottle of black paint and began squirting it in his direction, splattering it on his torso and watching it drip down the front of him. And you laughed wildly as he grabbed the blue and white paint bottles, pointing and squeezing them in your direction as the two of you circled each other, using your easels as fruitless efforts in attempting to shield yourselves.

Paint was everywhere. Your bodies were the canvas now, dollops of blue and white running down the arch of your back and the curves of your breasts, down past your bellybutton, dripping onto your feet. When you attempted to swipe the hair our of your face, you inadvertently left a smear of black paint on your cheek and forehead, making Harry laugh.

Black paint had managed to drip in the creases of his newly defined abs that he had been working so hard on these past few months, his hands having smeared most of the paint on his chest which somehow made him look even more toned. You laughed, tossing your empty paint bottle to the side as harry stepped closer, grinning, and dumping the last of the white and blue paint on your chest, his pearl necklace now smeared in color and barely recognizable.

He booped you on the nose with his index finger, leaving a trace of blue on the tip of your nose as he pressed his body closer to yours, making the black paint on his torso mix with the blue and white on yours and whispering, “You look a little wet.”

“You have no idea,” you held your breath, tingling wildly throughout your body like you always did when the sexual tension began to build.

His lips twitched, his face was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath starting to dry the paint that smeared on your face, legs starting to feel weak. His mouth hovered over yours, lips grazing, taunting, until finally he pressed his against yours, hungrily pulling you closer to him, both of your hands roaming each other’s bodies. No grip was tight enough to pull your bodies closer together.

The two of you slowly began to guide each other to the ground where you stood, on top of the fabric canvas that you had set aside to attempt to do some sort of line art of the two of you. That idea was ruined as it had now been splattered in paint and riddled with black, blue, and white footprints. He laid you down on your back, situating himself in between your legs that straddle his hips, pressing his hands on the canvas beside your head while your fingers ran through his hair, leaving streaks of paint in his browl, curly locks.

He pulled away to give you another look, smirking at the mess of color on your body and tracing a heart around your naval before he bent back down, crashing his lis on yours again. Normally, as a part of your foreplay routine, you’d share turns going down on each other, tasting each other’s juices and letting Harry play in your pussy for a bit, but with the paint, that wasn’t an option. Luckily, the need for foreplay wasn’t necessary. The past twenty minutes of teasing was enough to get you ready and his tip prodded at your cunt for a minute before slipping right in, warm and wet, just like he liked it.

You gasped at the abruptness, arching your back as he started to pump, clasping your legs tighter around his waist, “Fuck, Harry,” you managed.

Your little moans of delight always reassured him, gaining more confidence as he pumped harder into you, “Ya like that, do ya?” he ran his hand down your breast and to your hip, pulling himself back slightly and pulling you up higher so that your butt was off the ground and he could see your tits bouncing as he railed you, “Let me hear it, y/n. Let me hear how much ya like it.”

His thirst for you always got you heated for more and your voice got louder for him, screaming out his name, “God, your cock is so fucking big, Harry! Fuck! That feels so good!”

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and going faster now. His force began to lessen and you could tell he was starting to get tired, so you pushed him out of you and sat up, seeing the mess that was being made on the canvas below you.

“Lay down,” you demanded, moving aside.

He licked his lips, panting, and laying back down on the canvas like he was told before you straddled his hips once more, lowering yourself onto him. His hands naturally went to your heps, but you grabbed them, pinning them above his head which always drove him crazy. He let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape as you bounced your ass onto him, his cock rock-hard inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you heard him whisper under his breath before he forced his head up to see your breasts bouncing in his face, desperate to take one into his mouth and flick his tongue over your paint-riddled nipples.

“You like that tight pussy?” you breathes into his mouth, biting his lip before pulling away and placing your palms on his chest, using him as leverage to ride his cock, bouncing on him faster.

With his hands now free from your grasp, he snaked them up your body, giving your tits a quick squeeze, before firmly wrapping around your neck. Your body tensed for a moment. He smirked, knowing what he was doing. Choking was your kink. Not too tight where you couldn’t breathe, but firm enough on the sides of your throat where you could feel your pulse more clearly underneath his grip. You let out a loud moan, attempting to ride him harder, but your pace slowed, hips barely able to move. You were close. Too close.

Your body shook, trying to force your thighs to do their job and move, but they wouldn’t budge. Harry sniggered, “Gonna cum, are ye? My cock too much for you to handle?”

His hands loosened their grip around your neck, and you cried out, “No, don’t!” Grabbing his hand and forcing it back to your neck. Out of breath and shaking from pure pleasure, you kept trying to go faster, but you only slowed down.

He raised an eyebrow, taunting you, “Need me to fuck you?” he snickered, earning a pleading nod from you. His hand lingered around your throat, running his thumb on your jaw and he smirked, “How bad do you want it?”

You glowered down at him, attempted to readjust, trying to see if there was another position that could get you the right amount of momentum, but your efforts were futile. With every movement you made, a small gasp escaped your lips. You were teetering on the edge of climax, unable to move, and it was agony.

“Harry, fuck me!” You begged, forcing your own hands around his throat, “Please, fuck me!”

His eyes grew more ravenous, jaw clenching and clutching the pearls that hung around your neck, tightening his grip on them so that they began to squeeze at your throat. Your begging was all it took. He forced his cock up into you so fast and so hard that you were practically being lifted up off the ground. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in rapture, sounds you didn’t even know you could make being forced from your mouth.

His mouth puckered, eyes wandering from your head that flew back in pleasure, to your breasts, covered in paint and smeared to look more gray with specs of blue dotting down to your belly button. Your moans started to become shorter and more loud, body tensing and a chill running down your spine, “Just like that, babe! Keep going. Right there!” You panted until you let out one long, loud scream.

Your screams sent him over the edge, letting gown of the pearls around your neck and gripping on your hips harder, pulling you down onto him as he pushed up into you. His grunts getting faster and his lower jaw jutting out. “You’re so-fucking-sexy!” he grumbled in between thrusts before his final, deep, long thrust into you, pulling you tight onto his cock as he came inside of you, letting out a low, deep moan.

You collapsed onto him, the rising and falling of his chest matching your breathing, leaying their for a moment before you rolled off of him, both of you sprawled onto the tarp that covered the floor, naked and covered in paint. The two of you laid there for a moment until you started to feel the paint beginning to dry on your leg, and before you could say anything, he turned his head to face you.

Sweat beaded his forehead and he was finally beginning to catch his breath when he smiled at you, dimples evident in his cheeks, “You’re amazing.”

You grinned, forcing yourself up and attempting to hide the shakiness of your legs, “I know.”

The two of you helped shower each other off and clean up your mess as much as possible. Both canvases that were on the easels were trashed and you had to wipe the paint splatters off of the wooden chairs and tables, but for the most part, the tarp had done a good job at making sure paint hadn’t gotten on the floor. There was only one little spot of blue stain that gotten onto the molding of the wall from when Harry flicked paint at you, but it was barely noticable if you weren’t looking for it.

As for the fabric of canvas, at first they were going to get rid of it. But, the more they looked at it, the more they fell in love with it. It was very abstract, black, white, and blue smeared all over, parts of it mixing into grey. If you looked hard enough, you could see the streaks from their handprints and the blue and white circles where your knees and feet had been when you rode him. You decided to attach it to stretcher bars and have it framed, putting it above the sitting room fireplace.

Harry loved having this huge canvas of art on display; knowing how it was made and how prominently it was displayed for everyone who came over to see turned into a little kink of his. Whenever someone commented on how cool it looked, the two of you would always share a look and smirk, and when you had a split second of privacy, he’d kiss you with such intensity that reminded you of that night.

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Taglist:

@odetostep

#Harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction smut

919 notes · View notes

nightlight-firelight · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone, I’m really hoping you guys like this one! I’m hoping to continue this story, if you all like this. I’m not used to writing for other people, so please give me some feedback on how I could make this more enjoyable.

“Small Things Come With a Awkward Price”

Chapter 1

Getting home was a nightmare and getting back into your room is the top priority in your mind. The trip from Walmart had you exhausted due to the unexpected heat. Looking at your phone, you swear that today was only supposed to be in the seventies. You drop off your grocery bag onto your bed and pull out the item you have been waiting to open up. The Sonic Boom season one DVD set came with Sonic and Dr.Eggman figures. Even though the box was banged up, you bought the set anyway. The thought crossed your mind that a kid tried to open the box to get the figures but luckily didn’t succeed. You opened the banged-up box and pulled the figures out and set them on the bed. Then, taking out the two DVD cases, you set those on the bed and take a walk to the kitchen with the busted box and the excess plastic.

On the way to the kitchen, your thoughts began to wonder why you had picked up the box set to begin with. It was a good price and with the addition of the figures, you thought yourself lucky to get the last one they carried. Looking back, however, you did remember that this box was just under one of the shelving units next to the videogame isle, not even covered by a speck of dust. You had only seen the box when you went to look closer at a price tag, seeing the corner of the disheveled box and its contents. Pacing your dominant foot on the small peddle of the garbage can, the lid lifts from its closed positions and you gently toss the trash into the bin, only seeing a slip of paper glide out of the now trashed box.

You groan in annoyance that you have to take care of the fallen slip and pick up the small piece of paper after a try or two keeping it slightly stick to the floor. You take a closer look at the paper and see that it had some writing to it.

‘Hope you like my surprise!’

Staring at it puzzled you. Who was this for? I wasn’t meant for you to find, at least that what you believe. Was this put in here as a joke or an accident or-,

‘Clack!’

You jump ever so slightly from the odd noise that had pulled you away from your thoughts. The noise appears to come from your room, from the way the sound was only slightly distant and lightly muffled by the walls. You take more of a pep in your step and get to your room to investigate the noise. Taking a look around your room, you find after a minute of looking to see your Sonic figure on the floor. Picking him back up you take a look at him and see that his paint job was really impressive for a small action figure. You rolled him around in your hand and were impressed that the figure, all around, was correctly put together and made. No chip marks, no lack of paint, or extra paint where it shouldn’t be. No mistakes. You smile a bit at the thought and set Sonic on your small table next to your bed. You see that the Dr.Eggman figure, however, was almost to the edge of the bed, laying on his tummy, and had his arms pushed out in front of him. ‘Looks like he pushed Sonic off.’ You laughed at that thought of the plastic toy throwing its plastic arch-nemesis over the edge of the bed.

You pick the doctor up and examine him as well. He just like Sonic with the most impeccable paint job you’ve seen. You blush a bit and hold him more gently. You won’t lie and say that you may have had a crush on the doctor for a while now, not trying to deny it anymore. The first time that you had seen him on screen when watching the cartoon, you had butterflies swarming inside of you. The way he spoke was like music to your ears, and the way that he got when he thought he was about to win was so cute to you. You wished that they had made a third season to keep going with the cute doctor, but alas, good things must come to an end.

Taking the doctor and placing him onto your mountain of pillows you take a new pair of clothing into your bathroom and get cleaned up again, remembering that the heat had not been kind to you earlier. Once done, you put your old outfit into your laundry hamper and grabbed your portable DVD payer from the corner of your room. You had gotten this for the holidays and once you had gotten it, you never put it down for more than a few hours. You open up the player and take the first DVD case and open up the side of it up to show you the contents inside.

Your mood changed to a sour one when you saw the DVD itself. A plain disk with the words ‘Sonic Boom Season One, First Disk.’ repaced what would have been the official disk. You were upset that this was a false product and went to look at the second case. When you opened that one you were greeted by the bootleg copy of the second disk. You set both cases down and head to the kitchen you grab your favorite drink.

‘Really should have grabbed this earlier when I went to throw out the box.’ thinking bitterly as you swing open the fridge door and grab a bottle of your elixir that would of relax the current mood you were in. Opening the cap and dowing a few gulps of the drink, you realized that maybe you might have had gotten a copy that may have been a gift to someone or a factory error. You put the cap back on and take a deep breath. You had wanted to watch the show and still hope that the disks were holding the content you crave.

You made your way back to your room again to find your DVD player’s disk tray opened with the first seasons stuck in the correct spot. You freaked. You KNEW that you did not put the disk is the try, not even taking it out of its case, what is it ended DOING out of the case? You panic for a second and take a look around your home to make sure no one was in the house with you. After a check of the windows, rooms, closets, and even checking under furniture, you concluded that no one could have been in your house. You take a calming breath and sit down on the edge of your bed. You try and come up with some sort of explanation. Mabey you had put the disk in your DVD player and forgot about it. You were a bit sleep-deprived due to the last week of finals, so maybe you may have forgotten? You try and relax and after a few minutes you calm down enough to stop thinking of making scenarios of how this could have happened. After getting a grip, you push the lid down of the DVD player and start up the system. Sitting on your bed, you get to the main menu and sigh of relief that it was a copy of the show and not a knock-off. “So this must be a prototype or an unreleased version, cool.” Speaking to no one in particular. You press play on the first episode, ‘The Sidekick.’ and lean back the ride.

At first, the episode appeared normal. That ended when it got to the scene where Dr.Eggman got the poster for the sidekick tryouts and when the fourth wall gag kicked in and dropped the camera away from the doctor’s face, when he picked it up, however.

“Lousy security camer-.” he had stopped and looked dead into the ‘camera’. His eyes widened and he gave off a soft gasp, and you swore he was looking dead into your eyes, however, the scene quickly changed into the next stop before he could react. You pause the clip there and lean back.

NO WAY that happened. Your brain at the moment was fried and you KNEW he looked at you. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute and you had to take a few deep breathes to make sure you didn’t hyperventilate. ‘Breath,’ You keep telling yourself. ‘Breath!’ After few minutes of reconciliation, you looked back to the paused screen and ponder on what you should do. This has to be edited or who knows what. You were too far into this to give up now. First, the way the box was hidden was now becoming way too suspicious, second the way the figure looked way too good to be sold in a box set like that, and now this? You realized that this might be bigger than what you anticipated. Your eyes connect with the figure on your bed. You wanted to see where this goes. You had to see where this leads. You press play again.

You kept watching and when it got to when the doctor was introduced it was normal until it got to the Doctor entering the try-outs. He would keep going with the same dialog but kept taking glances over to you. The episode kept playing. The ending was different, however. Once BurnBot was destroyed via growing in the ice lake, Sonic and Tails didn’t kick the doctor away from the area. Instead, they did kick the Egg-Mobile out into the distance, but the doctor jumped out, landing in the area around the lake, letting Sonic and Tails leaving the scene. The camera focused on Eggman again as he lifted himself from off the ground and into the camera’s range. This time there was absolutely no way that the Docter did not see you as his expression look of that of confusion and worry. You decided to test out to see if you were going insane or if this was just an amazing edit. You wave to him. He hesitates for a moment. “Who-” But before he could finish that sentence, a very large light appears from the screen, blinding you. You cover your eyes and try to maneuver your body away from the small screen, only forgetting that you were seated in your bed and had just flung yourself off of it. You yelp out of fright and waited to hit the floor. You felt something grab you by the waist and pull you back up on the bed slowly. Uncovering your eyes you were met with something that happens only in fanfiction. A, very real, Dr. Eggman holding you in his hands, keeping you from falling off the bed.

“Hello.” His voice wavers from either the awkwardness of the situation or the fact that he just showed up into your room.

This is awkward.

#dr eggman #dr robotnik #dr eggman x reader #sonic franchise #sonic the hedgehog #sonic boom #writing #fanfic

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softkuna · 3 years

Text

Sukuna || Interview || Fic

Part 1

Content ║ Punk!Sukuna x reader. There is an oc version here.

Beauty wasn’t in the eye of the beholder, no, it is in the mind. Sukuna was enraptured. Addressed again, he shifted his posture, leaning into the arm of the couch as she did with her chair. The two were close in their cohort. An air of comfortable conversation lingered between them, much to his dismay. Her question wasn’t unusual. He’d been asked it in the beginning of his career and one where he had a planned answer.

Count ║ 2,626 K

Consider ║ Swearing. Female Pronouns (she/her).

Creator ║ This is the reader version. I took the name of the oc out. Hopefully the double post isn’t too weird? I did research on punk fashion, culture, and all which was really interesting. I knew some stuff about it before, but it’s really rich! I hope it’s not too information dense for you guys. Either way, Punk!Sukuna is now my comfort au and writing him is an absolute delight!! Also, Sorry for changing from ‘you’ to she/her ;v; it’s a lot easier for me to write/edit this way.

Sukuna had a lazy grin as he lounged back into a modern cream sofa. His arm stretched across the back of it, ankle crossed over his knee. Eyes staggered from the two cameras set up to the woman talking with some other chick. One held a small stack of papers, the other was grandly gesturing. He breathed out a short-stop breath, wishing they wouldn’t waste his time with bickering. Annoying as it was, it left a thick self-satisfactory lather over his ego.

“-didn’t you say the band?”

“Yeah, but this is better.”

“Sure… but what happens if-“

Quite frankly, he hated most press and avoided it, so to just have him in the hot seat was a double-edged blade. They didn’t get the whole band, but they did have The King himself. Whatever publicity he thrived off of were live shows, signings, fancams, tangible and real-time events. Interviews were a complete and utter waste of his time. He did a couple in the beginning, but found them pointless, callous even. They all asked the same shit. So, him coming alone was absolutely a note to pin to the fridge, even if it were a passive-aggressive post-it note.

His head turned to the two going back and forth. It wasn’t until the third minute ticked by that Sukuna felt the flashpoint of his blood plummet, “Yo! We doing this or what? You’re wasting my time here, Eros.”

The blogger whipped her head to the man with an indignant, “Excuse me?”

“Eros. Known for being reckless and unreliable? Like your scheduling.” He leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in palm. The aura of shit-eatery exponentially growing, “You’re not excused, sorry, not sorry Princess.”

“I think you have the wrong God,” She quipped as she dusted off the front of her outfit. It was a smart look and an intentional one for an interview with a punk rocker. What would strike the best complement than a khaki academic outfit? It consisted of a white high collared button up, sleeves billowing before cinching at her wrists. The blouse was stuffed into high-waisted, cuffed khaki chinos, pleated at the center of each pant leg. Over top, a gray woolen sweater vest. Accessories included various silver rings, a black ribbon to tie under the folded collar, and small silver studs as earrings. Makeup remained that done-up natural with brow, liner, and mascara. Hair had been swept into something similar to a faux 1920’s bob, pulled loosely back. The overall silhouette made the perfect contrast.

Sukuna wanted to peg her as your average superficial fashion bitch, he really did. Even at the concert, she dressed smartly despite the pathetic look on she wore on face. It wasn’t until afterwards when he saw the burn in her eyes, that he craved for her to prove him wrong.

Black flats clacked as she approached her own seat, a matching armchair to the couch. She held a certain command once she walked in, instructing him on where to be, which camera to look at, and what the introduction would be. He listened, admiring how her small frame moved to and fro, fixing up last minute edits on a paper, chattering with who he assumed to be a videographer. It was a whole production. One that was hers. The set itself was practically out of a home décor magazine. It was a general space used across the publisher, but she was born to be there. Deserved to be there. Her calculated glee and deliberate positioning of each member made him feel as though he were looking through a mirror.

The interview process began.

She sat professionally, legs crossed and leaning on the arm of her chair closest to Sukuna. He was unmoving, that slit to his lip curling upwards as the cameras began. She introduced the blog, the channel, her social media handles. With a smile, she introduced herself, “With me in this special is lead singer of Two Face, the King of Curses – Sukuna.”

The camera panned to his lazy wave, “Yo.” He looked to her, she looked to him and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of interest. Maybe the man was meant for cameras after all.

“After looking more into the punk scene, there’s a pretty interesting history behind it. Revolution, social discourse, poverty, violence, and unity. As someone in the scene, can you talk a little bit about what you know of the background?”

Sukuna drank in her voice, smooth and warm like the steady strum of a bass guitar. For a moment, he wondered if she sang. He quirked a brow, “Sounds like you didn’t research enough to summarize it yourself,” Eyes flickered to her features, watching as slight annoyance crinkled onto her nose then smoothed, “Let me learn you, Daisy. Starting back from rock in the 50’s, take that, strip it, build it with shit you find in the backyard…” His wrist rolled as his harmonious voice sang on, lacking even a single stutter as he summarized the movement top to bottom, inside and out, “…So, people would make their own records, sell them in plastic bags, they’d scan and reprint photos to make their own ‘zines. Shit was hard to distribute without tech…”

Much of his dissertation, she hadn’t even found on her own deep dive into the culture. Sure, the anarchist and nihilistic ideologies were well known to pretty much anyone who would listen, but the deep history and connection between communities was far beyond the surface scratched into.

“There’s a crowd of sub-genres now. Fuck ‘punk is dead’ what even is that bull shit?” Sukuna scoffed, jerking his chiseled chin to the side, “Only thing that’s dead here is – ironically – peoples drive to change.”

His interviewer sat in silence for a moment, mind spinning. He spoke in the way a well-educated University professor gave a dissertation to his peers, dripping in confidence from his storm of information. He was articulate despite the fowl language, even including a tie in to modern perception. Excitement curled into the recess of her mind. In a delightful turn of events, expectation and reality didn’t match up.

She leaned forward slightly folding her hands over the arm of the chair, “That was comprehensive. Thanks!” She chuckled, causing the man before her to freeze and thaw with a nod. She continued, “With all of this mention of D.I.Y. culture in punk, let’s talk about Vivienne Westwood.”

Sukuna kept his attention to her profile as she spoke to the camera, catching himself in the glow of her enthusiasm, “On Kings Road in England, she kickstarted the fashion movement into gear. Now, many would think that with a style such as this, it would’ve been hand-me-downs, pins, self-stitching, but contrary to this belief, many of the clothes in her store were expensive. Knock offs circulated, and seeing as much of it did have that hand-done finishing touch, many decided to take tailoring to their own hands…” Not that this was a competition, but she found herself trying to prove his ‘research’ comment wrong. Her ability to scour and exhaust her resources of fashion history is the furnace that kept her going and she would make it well known that she was not to be challenged.

The approaching lurch of a stalemate stuck to the walls of the vocalist’s stomach. Something he didn’t think he’d feel for a while. Small stuff over here may not’ve known all there was about the cultural history, but he could feel the crashing wave of fascination washing over him as she spoke. Sure, some of it he knew. Some of it he naturally garnered from stylistic preference and others he learned for marketing, however there was just a certain target she aimed for with such precision that he bled a newfound admiration.

“You’ve answered it already, yeah, I know. I saw the interview,” Her head tilted to the side, pleasant smile hinting at her trick, “but enlighten me for a second about how your natural style transitioned to what it is on stage. We’ll put up some of the photos taken from last night here,” her hand gestured to some empty space, “You basically turned chiaroscuro and made it a performance. It’s obvious in how each member contrasted with themselves and the stage.”

The chick didn’t even know who he was a week ago, yet somehow watched every interview since the start? An answer tumbled from the tongue readily, “Punk is like a renaissance of music. Like I said before, it tore down the foundations of what was before and built something new out of it.” The words were succinct, but as her pretty lashes bat, he was goaded into continuing, “Contrast is important. I like art. I like plays. Just ‘cause it’s punk doesn’t mean I can’t have it look aesthetic? Or is that a word only snobby fashion journalists can use now?”

“Hm. Change ‘journalist’ to ‘vocalist’ and you’re a word away from meeting the requirement,” It was a sour candy treat traded for his lemon warhead.

“Ouch. Miss Blog-Spot here has some sass,” His large frame leaned further into the armrest, cheek resting on that fist.

“Mister Eight-Track here is some a–“

The videographer clapped his hands, “We have sponsors, you know. We can at least censor him.”

It was Sukuna’s time to laugh a loud, hyena-like cackle. A large hand smacked his leather-clad knee. She scrunched her nose again, biting back her tongue from childishly jutting out at him.

As soon as the videographer clapped his hands again, she recollected herself, shuffled her papers, and continued on, “From what it looks like, you took a mixture of old and new high-trend brands and added a touch to them to keep with theme. Even now, you’re wearing a Real McCoy with cone spikes embedded. Is that custom made? McCoy isn’t cheap.”

Part of him hated her keen eye, but reveled in her raw talent all the same. “I’m not going to bull shit you and say I dumpster dive for my clothes. I like high quality things. What’s the point in making money if I can’t spend it? What’s a bigger ‘fuck you’ than having your version of a top-brand item being worth more than the original?” With a proud glint in his eye, he rolled the jacket off, sure to make a grand display of strong, bare arms as he did so. The muscle tank he wore was similar to the concert before, white with a pocket, neckline was stretched and worn. It hung over the dense muscle of his shoulders and chest. Sukuna could feel the trail of her eyes on him. His chest puffed from her approval. He threw the jacket over his knee, flipping the leather inside out to show where the studs had been placed, “See this? Did it myself.”

Manicured fingers touched the inside of the jacket, thumbing the connecting points that the studs were pressed in by and sealed. The work was immaculate. Sukuna leaned back, canines gleaming as he saw her mouth move in a silent ‘wow’. He picked the front of his tank top, snapping it up and allowing it to billow back to his body, “Embroidered this, too.”

He waited for her comment, her praise. Why? Like he needed some two-bit Vanderbilt bitch’s validation. He chalked it up to being praised by a master of the craft. He hadn’t been prepared for her to take the fabric between her fingers and rub it, concentrated brows cinched like a corset. Well-toned abs flinched in response to her delicacy, but she didn’t notice.

The embroidery was messy and chaotic, but it was obviously intentionally. The way the needlework was so clean, barely leaving a hole from the pull of the exceptionally soft fabric. It wasn’t floral like in the concert, but abstract stitching created crosses and streaks here and there, using the composition of the fabric as like it were a canvas. Experimentalist. It was like touching the work of Westwood herself.

God, she hated how perfect it was. It squeezed her heart to know that he was so effortlessly multi-talented. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers once more, attention being stolen by his baritone voice. She could practically hear the treble in it, “Ey Princess, you think it’s okay to just touch me?” His breath caught under the arrogant teasing of his words. Not from the words themselves. Couldn’t care less about that. What choked him up was whatever resplendent emotion flared from them when she peered up to him.

“Let me check the tag.”

“What?”

The blogger leaned back, cheekily snapping the shirt as she did so. “Your shirt, can I check the tag? I want to see what its made out of. Also, sorry.”

Sukuna blinked twice, mouth stupidly hanging open before he leaned forward, “I’ll allow it.”

He may have tinnitus, but he wasn’t deaf enough yet to miss the mocking ‘I’ll allow it,’ muttered under her breath. He wanted to laugh, but for the second time, the graze of chilled fingertips along his skin shut him up. Along the back of his neck, she fiddled to flip the collar and tug it. Her eyes squinted and a hum escaped her throat. Sometimes she wished she could read upside down. That’s when she sat on the back on the sofa and leaned closer, pulling the shirt to better read the small print. If Sukuna were a cat, he’d lean his head into her. The thought physically bothered him.

“I knew it. It’s American Pima. Thanks for letting me check.”

He missed the shiver her touch gave him as she sat back into her chair.

“While I have more questions for you, this video’s gotten pretty long already, so we’ll have to cut it a bit short here,” She gave a closing statement, motioning for her guest to do the same. With a thanks, the cameras were cut.

While the editor and videographer chatted together, She leaned heavily into the back of her chair, poised posture slipping into something more comfortable. Long lashes slid closed and a heavy drag of breath lifted her chest. Sukuna’s eyes trailed along her form, contemplating Eros once more.

She exhaled sharply, “I do appreciate you coming on stage. It’s disgusting how talented you are.” She laughed, cracking an eye open to meet his, “I prepped a lot of questions thinking you’d be short with me. It’s a shame I only got to ask a few.”

He was surprised himself. It was more than just her talent to make him talk - she may have been the first to see him as an opportunity rather than a commodity. ‘She would be the first and last reporter to see me as a meal’ was the thought he had going into this interview. He had every single intention to shut down her buffet, make it apparent that he was not to be dined on by a single soul. Yet, if his dish were ‘opportunity’, hers would be ‘intrigue’. He wanted to devour it, to know its palette and identify its spices. It was a compulsory urge to order, just to see why he craved it in the first place.

“Film the next few concerts. Backstage.”

Tags: @lovesakusa

#⛩.sukuna #⛩.fic #⛩.punk #🍺.jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic

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i-love-you-all · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 30: Digging your grave

Hi! Last two prompts are happening today. I’ll try to make a masterpost of all the Whumptober 2021 stories out tomorrow!

~800 words. This is a snippet from a story I’ve been trying to finish (but can’t finish cause words are hard). Here’s the first scene I posted from that same story!

Warnings: Major Character Death, Gun violence, strangulation, mentions blood.

The mission itself went to shit. They were hurried, their plan was made on the fly, and they were running up against agents who clearly knew what they were getting into. At a certain point, Brimstone had no choice but to send Sova off on his own while he and Skye tried to patch up the two other women as best as they could while waiting for the carrier. Sova took slow and cautious steps. He had no clue as to where anyone was until he heard the lightest sound of a gun clacking against armour.

Sova took out his sheriff and peeked out to see a clone of himself, already in the motion of knocking the pistol aside. Shit. The shot went wide, and now those here with the other Sova knew there was contact. A quick blow to his jaw pushed Sova onto his back foot, but this had to be finished quickly. He charged at the other man who was adjusting his riffle to aim at Sova’s chest and managed to pin the other one against a wall, using his own gun to choke him.

“I let you go when we first met. Not this time,” Sova muttered. There was so much more on the line now – and how could his clone of all people work for Kingdom? That thought had to come later. Fighting a clone felt impossible. There were two thoughts running simultaneously though Sova’s mind. First, the fact that he knew what he was going to do. Second, he also had a good idea of what the other Sova was going to do as well.

That was especially true when he felt the other Sova hook their leg around his. This was a maneuver he had learned a long time ago – basic military training – and while he knew how to counter it, his reaction time just wasn’t fast enough and he lost his grip on the gun, as he was pushed off, barely avoiding a fall. Before he could even think about a counterattack, he felt hard metal slam against the side of his head. Once. Twice. After the second attack, he could feel the blood starting to drip down the side of his face. Trying to focus on the other was dizzying, but he threw himself at the legs of the other and yanked up, making sure to follow him to the ground and pin him there. The other Sova struggled as he wrapped his hands around his neck and kept pushing down, trying to crush the windpipe.

If Breach could do it, so could he. He was going home today.

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the punches at his chest and abs grew weaker and weaker. As the grip around his arms went limp, he pulled back and took out his knife. This was one last way to make sure that this agent in particular would not be bother his version of the protocol for a while. But unlike any other battle, any other combat he had ever been in, he paused for just a moment, wondering if it was necessary as the other Sova was already unconscious, and this was unnerving enough already.

No. He had to finish the job.

Sova had just finished standing up, wiping blood from the blade when Brimstone came running up to him.

“Brimstone?” Sova was confused. He should’ve stayed by the carrier. Even if he had been the one to die in that fight, Sage couldn’t resurrect more than one person at a time, so they would’ve waited until they saw the other versions of themselves leave. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe.”

“Are there others?” the older man immediately took out his gun.

“I… I’m not sure,” Sova picked up the gun on the ground and stared back at him. “I was not able to do a full check because…” and he’s so screwed.

Brimstone turned to see Raze jogging up to them and greeted her warmly. But Sova knew that Raze did not come with them on this mission.

“We tried to communicate through the coms, but you weren’t answering. Is everything alright, Sova?”

One versus two was doable when he had the element of surprise. But as the rest of this fake team walked in, Sova knew that he was trapped.

“Helloooo?” Raze waved a hand in front of his eyes. “You ok? Where are your coms?”

Sova reached for his ear and almost breathed a sigh of relief. It got knocked out during the fight… for both of them. He looked down at the ground and shrugged. “Broke during the fight.”

Their Killjoy took careful steps around the body. “Oh Mein Gott. How interesting! I’ll need a detailed recount for later… did he know you? Did you—”

“Leave him alone for a bit, Killjoy,” Brim stepped beside Sova as if to shield him with one hand on his shoulder. “It can’t have been easy. Let’s leave before more trouble comes.”

And Sova had no choice but to follow.

#whumptober 2021 #no. 30 #digging your grave #valorant #valorant fanfiction #valorant sova #sova #Other sova #lol #my writing

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titilationexpress · 3 years

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Sweet Dreams are Made of Screams Ch.3

You awoke with a start, gasping as you found yourself back in your bed, heart racing and sweat beading down your forehead, yet you were clearly where you had last been when you fell asleep.

Rising from your mattress, you looked down at yourself, seeing that you were back to your human self. Or...were you your human self in that...dream?

You couldn’t really remember, suddenly feeling quite tense. “God, what WAS that?” you said aloud, rubbing your temple.

You checked your phone and saw yet more requests for Starscream popping into your messages. You flopped back on the bed with a groan. It seemed that you wouldn’t be getting away from him, whether it be your dreams OR wide awake!

Yet what you had experienced…

Throughout the day, you found yourself unable to focus on anything. Whether it be at school/college/work or in your free time, the Decepticon would not leave your brain. That wasn’t really new, the constant requests for him made his presence in your mind a regular, yet this was different. You didn’t know how to explain it, but Starscream seemed to make his presence known. As in, ridiculous as it sounds, like he’s always over your shoulder, watching you.

A fictional character was somehow transcending reality and subtly manipulating you into doing his bidding. Or was it yours, as, despite the feeling of eyes on the back of your head, you have been wanting to write about him for some time.

Yet unlike before, something had changed. True, that dream you had left you rather flustered (not to mention quite wet that morning), but also...inspired? Was that the word? Well, whatever it was, it eventually managed to get you going on churning out more reader insert entries. You went through your requests, going down the list of bots and scenarios when finally, one snags your attention.

Vampire!Starscream X Reader.

Well, that was quite the challenge, wasn’t it?

Sure, you had experimented with that in the past, yet once again, Starscream seemed to haunt you everywhere you went. Just what was it that...that made him so difficult for you? Why couldn’t you just write something?!

It was then though that your mind went back to the dream and your...intimate encounter with your favorite version of the character. His words regarding your doubts, your insecurities regarding your ability to write for him….how all of it was true. And how, to overcome it, you had to cast aside your inhibitions.

You just had to “do”.

It was an hour later or so that you were still at your computer/laptop, trying to figure out where to go from here. You had the scenario in mind, now to build a plot off of it. So far, all you had was that it was in G1 (or at least some version of it at least. Hey, headcanons and AUs were serious business, you had learned), and that you somehow became Starscream’s vampire bride in the end. It was kinda stupid, but hey, G1 was known for equally crazy shit.

The only problem was where to start.

True, you knew what the end result would be, but how to get there was the question. Better yet, how the hell do robots turn into vampires?! Ugh! You couldn’t do this! You just couldn’t! You were doomed for failure! You slapped your hand against your head, trying to keep yourself from getting too frazzled. But how were you going to do this?

It was then that you heard something. Or rather, thought something.

‘Shockwave this, Shockwave that. All I ever hear about is how great Shockwave is!’

You knew that quote! Starscream’s brigade! It grew to be one of your favorites of G1! But what did that have to do with…wait a minute. Shockwave...Shockwave was left on Cybertron but was also somewhat of a scientist. And there had been references to other planets and aliens in the series (hell, Season 3 had barely anything to do with Earth at that point), and there were such things as Petro Rabbits, so why couldn’t Shockwave have a collection of live specimens to study?

And you, the Reader, we’re going to be his assistant.

From there, more and more came to you, you typing like mad as you clicked and clacked the keyboard, everything just pouring out of you at once! You were doing this, you realized. Holy shit, you were doing this! On and on you wrote, getting the outline and first part done. Then came the second, third, and so on.

And when you finally gained the courage to post them (you had not submitted them quite yet, having held back), you saw that the reception was...good.

It was good.

Sure, the first part only had a few likes so far, but it seemed to be ok. Still, you didn’t get your hopes up too high. But it wasn’t long after that you found yourself aboard the abandoned ship again, only this time, there was no one in the cell. You knew well who should’ve been in there.

“S-Starscream?” You stammered, voice echoing off the walls. It was then that you felt a servo trail it’s way up your spine, causing you to nearly leap out of your skin. Turning, you saw the amused, chortling form of your favorite Starscream, clearly pleased with himself in having given you a fright. “Don’t do that to me!” you held your chest, feeling your heart beating.

“Welcome back.” The Seeker greeted. “It looks like we’re in for another eventful night.”

Your eyes widened. “We are?” You remembered last time well. How bizarre the whole situation was...but also how good it felt. How good he felt.

“Yes, you’ve been aching for another night with me, haven’t you?” He whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your back. “Don’t bother denying it. I can see into your thoughts, remember?” His eyes then began to glow red. “And I also know what you’ve written about me recently.”

“Oh, that.” Your cheeks grew red. “Yeah, well...it was my first time writing for you, and...well, I’ve never done anything with vampires before, so…” it was then that you noticed Starscream’s eyes seeming more...red than you remembered. And...and since when did he have fangs?! “The hell?!”

Starscream only chuckled. “Don’t you remember? This was from what you had written but a short time ago.”

Oh, right. “It’s…kinda stupid though, the story I mean,” you shifted nervously. “I mean, it’s not really meant to be taken seriously.”

“But,” Starscream approached you, holding your chin gently. “You DID finally face your fears, right?” You nodded. “But yet, you’re still unsure.” Sighing, you nodded. “Well,” his optics glimmered. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

You stiffened, knowing where this was going. The environment around you changed to that of the Nemesis’ brig, you in a cell with Starscream. The same position the Reader was in near the end of the story. You knew well what was about to happen, Starscream slowly backing you up against the wall. And yet not once did you tell him to back off. True, your heart was racing, yet it wasn’t entirely out of fear. No, you feared what would come next.

“Relax, my dear.” Starscream assured you. “I’ll be gentle.” He opened his mouth, revealing pronounced canines on his upper set of dentas.

You released a heavy sigh and let it happen. The Seeker bit down on your neck and into your flesh. There was slight pain, yes, yet you could stop this anytime you wanted. You let it continue. The sting from his fangs entering you lasted only a few seconds though, as there was a rushing warmth that overtook you.

“Ah, found your courage, have you?” Starscream questioned. “Well then,” he lowered his hand to your lower regions, lightly stroking it. “Shall we take things one step further?”

Honestly, you didn’t see why not.

That night, you two had another session, the Decepticon exploring and driving you crazy with his methods, you, in turn, responding in kind. Turns out a tongue savoring his spike was one of the things you did that could make him, fittingly enough, scream. And then, you woke up, a kiss bringing out of the dream once again. More requests, and yet...and yet, this time, you felt somewhat more...confident.

You decided to try out another scenario, taking your time with this one, yet not allowing anxiety to have as much of a hold over you. And, to your surprise, this Starscream x Reader fic got good reception too! True, you still wrote for all the other Autobots and Decepticons, yet the Seeker, whatever incarnation he was, proved to be some of your most popular.

Which, in turn, led to you getting more and more visits from him.

It wasn’t each night, yet sometimes, especially when you were either in the midst of writing one, or were struggling to come up with a scenario, he would appear. Luring you into the darkness to join him, allowing yourself to cast away the chains that once held you back.

And thus, you found yourself here again. The same ship, and same voice calling you. It seemed he wished to repeat how you two had met the first time.

“I know, I know...you belo-o-ng to so-omebody ne-e-w,” you heard his voice echoing all around, you recognized the song. It was an older one, one that your mother liked, remembering it from your grandmother’s vinyl collection. What was it called? Patience and Prudence’s…

“But toni-i-ght, you belong, to me…”

Ah, yes. How...oddly fitting. You followed the Seeker’s surprisingly bearable singing, listening and taking note of which direction it was coming from. What would it be tonight, you wondered. A dive into a new situation for the Reader, aka yourself, or something new? Sometimes Screamer himself came up with ideas, of which you would do, if not just to allow him to let you finish. Though you did get your revenge mostly, there were times where you were just wanting some smooth pillow talk. Starscream frankly made you exhausted. In a good way? Honestly, even now, you weren’t sure.

And yet, here you were, about to indulge him yet again.

“My honey I know, I know,” the source of the voice was close. “With the da-a-wn, that yo-o-u, will be go-o-ne,” you saw the cell, yet Starscream wasn’t confined. You couldn’t confine him now, even if you wanted to. “But tonight…” and, if you had to be honest, “You belong,” you didn’t want to. “To me.”

#starscream x reader #starscream #prime #g1 #animated #transformers animated #transformers #smut #first lemon

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch47: Use Your Words, Old Man

Intro: Jamie reaches another milestone, and 2021 ticks by with many more memories for the Rogers and Stark family.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: I adore the edit again... @angrybirdcr did good!!!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 46

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

May 2021

“Jamie, no!” Steve swooped down and picked up the tot who had been toddling, albeit, unsteadily, towards Lucky giggling away. Lucky, however, was fast enough to understand and jumped up bolting towards the door of the room, leaping over the baby gate to avoid Jamie’s vice like grip on his ears.

“NO!” Jamie yelled and Steve stopped dead, Jamie in his large arms, as Katie looked up at them both, her mouth falling open.

“Did he just…?” she held her breath. The fourteen month old had been uttering the odd thing that sound like a word for a good few months now, but nothing that anyone would recognise as a proper term.

Until now.

“Yeah I think so!” Steve grinned, looking at her then his son. “Did you just talk buddy? Did you just say no?” “NO! No, No!” Jamie wriggled in his dad’s arms, grabbing at his shirt. Katie, who had managed to get the last few iterations of the word on her phone camera, grinned as Steve placed him back on the floor where he headed over to this play-mat and landed with a thud on the floor, picking up a pile of the large, coloured blocks he liked to play with.

“Of course his first word would be no.” She sighed as Steve sat on the couch next to her. He laughed and dropped a hand to her knee.

“To be fair, honey, that’s what we spend half our time telling him one way or another.” Katie snorted, that much was true. Since he had been fully mobile and walking unaided over the last two months, they had constantly been moving things out of his reach or removing them from his grasp, followed by the word. Nine times out of ten the tot was content to let them do so, but the odd time he would throw a temper tantrum to rival those of his Momma’s.

“NO!” Jamie called again, clacking the blocks together and Steve gave a grin, moving off the couch to drop by his son on the play-mat. Katie watched the two of them for a moment, smiling to herself. She knew it was a cliché but she literally couldn’t have wished for a better father for either of her kids. They were experiencing first parenting issues at both ends of the spectrum, with Emmy five months off her fourteenth birthday and Jamie two months on from his first. It wasn’t easy, hell, they spent half their time second guessing their decisions. Where they being too strict or too lenient with Emmy? Was Jamie developing right? Were his toys educational enough? Was the floor clean enough for him to be crawling or lying on with having a dog in the house? But, when she saw moments like this, Jamie now trying to push his large, red Mega-Block into his Dad’s mouth, Steve clamping his lips together and shaking his head making their son screech with laughter, all her worries faded away.

Jamie really was fast turning into a miniature version of his dad, which was another thing Katie loved. Steve himself didn’t see it, but there had been a moment a few weeks back where the soldier had recognised someone he knew, loved and missed daily in his Son, and it had choked both Parents up.

Steve was led on his back on the bed, Jamie cackling away as his dad was holding him at arms-length and then bringing him back down again to blow a raspberry on his cheek, repeating the motion over and over, until he paused and his eyes widened a little. Katie frowned slightly at the look on his face as Steve gulped, looking into his son’s eyes, their familiarity hitting him like a brick.

“Soldier, what is it?” Katie asked, as Steve’s eyes misted up and he swallowed thickly.

“His eyes. Erm, do you think they’ll carry on turning green?”

Katie frowned. “I don’t know, I doubt it. Apparently most babies, if their eyes are gonna change, will have done it by six months. Why do you ask?”

“I just, well, I never thought I’d see those eyes again.” He whispered, gently resuming his actions.

“I’m not following you, love.” Katie frowned

“He has my ma’s eyes” Steve’s voice was choked as he looked at her, bringing Jamie down to his chest, pressing a kiss to his head, a soft smile playing on his face.

“Then you see your mother’s eyes every time you look in the mirror.” Katie smiled, leaning over to give him a soft kiss as her own chest felt slightly tighter than normal. She wiped a tear Steve hadn’t even been aware he’d shed off his check gently with her thumb, leaving her hand trailing softly across his skin. “Because when I look at him all I see is you. Those eyes are yours.”

He looked up at her and smiled, “yeah?” “Yeah,” she nodded, “I think you’re more like your mother than you realise. Maybe not in looks completely but, well, she raised you single handed. You’re the man you are because of her.”

“She was a fantastic woman.” Steve sighed.

“Well then you should be proud.” Katie said, and he smiled looking over at her.

“I am,” he replied softly, his attention going back to his son, “and you know what else I’m proud of?”

“What?”

“That you’re a Mrs Rogers too.” He looked at her again. “I know it’s just a name but, I really am glad you took it. Jamie has a Rogers momma as good as mine, helping to carry the name forward.”

“You sentimental sap.” Katie sniffed slightly as her own tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

“I love you so much.” He beamed at her, pressing his lips to hers softly. “Even if you are still a Stark really.” She laughed against his lips,”jerk.”

Katie turned back to the laptop she’d been looking at, flicking through a few spreadsheets with the latest figures the SIDE accountants had produced. Steve and Emmy’s idea around the support groups had been well received by everyone involved with the foundation and as such they’d started drafting up the paper work and working out the estimated funding. Steve had consulted Rhodey about the programme and the Colonel had enthusiastically agreed it was a great idea, and as such they’d pitched it to the Government, President Ellis’ reaction had been the same as theirs – why didn’t we think of this before?

As such, they were currently working up the particulars such as how they set up across the country, mobilisation, publicity…and Steve had taken up control of the project, his natural leadership qualities made him a superb Project Manager. He’d also expressed an interest in actually running the ones across New York himself, another way he felt he could help.

They were aiming to open the first ones in September, running two a week for the time being, just to see how well they were received and, from a purely selfish point of view, Katie was enjoying working alongside him again and having him at home permanently instead of traveling with the Military.

“How many groups do you think you’re gonna have eventually?” She asked and Steve tuned to look at her, momentarily confused by her sudden change of topic until he realised what she was talking about.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I’d like eventually to maybe run them three times a week, twice a day. Give everyone who wants to come a chance to you know…why d’ya ask?” “Just drilling into these numbers. I reckon we have enough to fund that to start with,” she paused, “and if the government meet our request then we can step it up.” He nodded. “I put the design idea in for the fliers and posters yesterday. Has to be the most sombre thing I’ve ever drawn.”

“I know,” she said softly, “but it’s gonna make a difference Steve, focus on that.”

He was about to reply but he was cut off when they heard the voice from the security system informing them that the gate had been opened by ‘Emmy Rogers’. Steve glanced at the clock and frowned.

“It’s not even one?”

“They’re on half day,�� Katie didn’t look up from the numbers on the screen, “teacher training or something.”

Moments later the front door opened and the chatter of two excited teenage girls hit their ears and Lucky gave a bark, his nails clicking on the wooden floor as he trotted through from where he had been on his bed under the stairs to greet Emmy.

“I know, it’s so cool, right?” Emmy was saying, as her voice grew louder. “I never thought they’d do anything like this, not after the Decimation but, oh hi buddy!”

They heard Lucky’s excited whine as Emmy continued to coo at him, before the two girls and dog appeared in the lounge doorway.

“What’s so cool?” Steve asked instantly and Emmy rolled her eyes.

“Do you earwig into every conversation I have?” She opened the baby-gate and stepped into the room.

“Yes.” Steve deadpanned. “Now spill.” “It’s a Geography field trip Mr R.” Brooke grinned. “Hamilton for the Niagara Escarpment.”

“Canada?” Katie smiled before her smile turned to a smirk as she side eyed Steve “I had a vacation in Canada once.” Steve shot her a glare and his voice dropped to a growl. “That’s not funny.” He said sternly. The memory of what she’d been through wasn’t a laughing matter as far as he was concerned. She flashed him a grin and he rolled his eyes. “So when is it?” He turned to Emmy.

“Last week of term in June.” She answered, reaching down to pick Jamie up who had toddled over to his sister excitedly chattering jibberish as he went. “Just for three nights. I know it’s really short notice but apparently they weren’t sure they could pull it off. Hi Jay!” She swung him up and kissed the little boy on the cheek as Brooke gently tweaked his nose causing him to laugh.

“Six weeks, yeah that is short notice.” Katie pondered. “Do you wanna go?” Emmy’s eyes lit up and she nodded. “I’d love to.” Steve took in a deep breath and Katie looked at him. She could see him grappling with something but Jamie spoke before he could.

“No!”

“Did he just talk?” Emmy’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, he hasn’t shut up saying it for the last hour.” Katie grinned “Look, have you got the details of the trip?” “In my bag.”

“Okay, well leave them on the table, me and your dad will give it the once over and we’ll talk about it later.”

Emmy placed Jamie down on the floor and fished in her bag for the forms before she dropped them onto the coffee table with a soft slap. Jamie wandered this time over to Katie who set her laptop down and picked him up. He sat on her lap and gently wound his hand into her hair, rubbing his face into her neck the way he always did when he was tired.

“I’m gonna put him down for a nap.” Katie stood up and looked at the two girls. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Pool!” They both grinned, sharing a hi-five before Emmy looked at her mom, the familiar hopeful expression on her face she always got when she was about to ask for something.

“Can Brooke stay?”

Katie arched an eyebrow. “I thought that was a given, seeing as you’re both already here.”

The two girls grinned and Emmy looked at her mom again, her smile growing even bigger. “And, can we get Thai tonight? It is Friday.” “Dontcha mean Thaiday?” Steve quipped causing Katie to groan as Emmy picked up a cushion off the couch with her spare arm and hit her dad with it.

“That is so lame.” Emmy rolled her eyes as Brooke cackled. “C’mon…”

Katie watched as they left the room, Steve still chuckling at his own joke.

“She’s right.” Katie looked at him, gently re-arranging Jamie slightly as he had started to nod off. “That was lame.”

Steve gave her a look of mock hurt, clutching his chest, before she left and he sat up to read the information Emmy had left on the table. He was struggling a little bit between wanting to let her go and also the worry that had instantly flooded his system about her being safe. He carefully read the details, the trip wasn’t cheap, not that that really mattered, the activities looked good, and a quick google showed him the hotel looked fairly reasonable and was in a nice enough area…

“I knew you’d be on that as soon as you could be.” Katie laughed and Steve looked up at her from his spot on the floor by the table and he gave a sheepish grin.

“Busted,” he sighed, “I just wanted to look into it properly. I really want her to go and enjoy stuff like this but…” “We can’t keep her sheltered, Steve.” Katie reasoned. “No matter how much we want to. She’s gonna be fourteen this time round.” “I know, I know.” He sighed “Do you think we should let her go?” “Yeah, I do.” Katie nodded “We’re lucky enough to be able to afford things like that for our kids, plenty of other families aren’t.”

Steve’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek for a moment as he considered his wife’s words. She was right. Emmy would never have been on a trip like this before, and it did look like a lot of fun.

“Alright.” He heaved himself up off the floor “You’ve convinced me.” Katie grinned “If only everything was that easy.” “It is.” He arched an eyebrow. “All you have to do is pull those eyes at me.” “What eyes?” She asked innocently. “You know damned well what eyes. Those eyes. The ones that can get me to do whatever you want.” “Is it working now?” She looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Why, what do you want?” He asked, smirking, knowing full well what she was implying as her hands slid up his chest.

“Well the girls are out at the pool,” her eyes followed her fingers as they started to undo the buttons of his Henley, “and Jamie’s asleep…” Grinning, Steve span her round, shoved her gently forward and aimed a smack to her ass causing her to yelp playfully. “Get up those stairs Mrs Rogers.” He growled, and the pair of them hurried off, giggling like a pair of naughty school kids till they reached their bedroom, where the giggles turned into shared moans, groans and happy sighs.

**** “Thanks for dropping Brooke off.” Jennifer placed a latte down in front of Katie.

“It was no problem, I had to come this way on my way up to the compound anyway.” Katie smiled and then frowned slightly as she noticed the look on her friend’s face.

“You alright?” She asked gently.

“Not really,” Jen sighed, sitting down. “Brooke called last night about the field trip…” “Yeah Steve wasn’t so keen but I talked him round. The girls seem to be looking forward to it.” “That’s the thing.” Jen rubbed at her temple “I really want Brooke to go but, well, business hasn’t been what it used to be before, you know, and I’m not sure I can afford it. Not at such short notice.” Katie instantly felt like a jerk. She knew she was incredibly privileged to be so wealthy but was well aware many weren’t as fortunate.

“I haven’t had the heart to tell her yet.” Jen swallowed and Katie bit her lip.

“Jen,” she leaned over the table dropping her voice, “if you want…” “No.” Jen shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line, instantly understanding what Katie was offering “I’m not a charity case.” Her voice was clipped. “No, that’s not what I meant.” Katie hastily assured the woman. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to offend you.” “I know.” Jen shook her head “Sorry,that was really ungrateful.” “It’s fine.” Katie waved her apology off, “but the offer is there. We could consider it a loan if you liked.” Jen chewed her lip, and Katie saw her friend’s eyes begin to water.

“Look,” Katie gripped her mug, “it’s a couple of hundred bucks. And this probably sounds crass and really, really fucking shitty when I think about it, but I make more than enough and I really, really won’t notice that amount going out, trust me.”

“I just hate this, you know.” Jen hastily wiped her face. “A few years ago this place was thriving and now, well I just about make enough to cover bills and the thought she is the one that has to miss out…” “Then let me help.” Katie pleaded, looking at the red head opposite her. “Brooke’s been a good friend to Emmy and, well, from a selfish point of view I’d be a lot more comfortable if they were together.”

“That’s really kind of you.” Jennifer nodded after a pause. “Are you sure? I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“Whenever, it’s not a big deal.” Katie nodded, smiling “On one condition.” “What?”

“You sneak me one of your delicious brownies every once in a while.” Jenifer laughed “Oh honey, you and Steve can get free coffee and brownies for life.” “Erm, yeah, pretty sure in a month you’d be bankrupt if I told Steve that.” Katie grinned and Jenifer smiled.

“Would you like to come over?” She asked suddenly. “The pair of you, for dinner maybe? Tonight? Emmy and Jamie as well, of course.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Katie smiled. “We’re not doing anything that I know of but I’ll check with Steve and let you know as soon as I can.”

“Great, well, Emmy can stay here if she likes. I’m sure once I tell Brooke she can go they’ll be planning all sorts of mischief.”

“I dread to think.” Katie mused “You know I remember my last field trip. It was to San Fran and I was sixteen. Me and my friend, a girl called Laura, I made some fake ID and we got plastered in a bar. Tony absolutely kicked my ass, before he told me he was actually quite impressed at the quality of my forgeries.”

Jennifer snorted “Yeah, this isn’t exactly filling me full of confidence.”

Katie laughed. “Emmy is much better behaved than I was at that age, Steve wouldn’t stand for her getting into the same amount of crap as I did.” She drained her mug and stood up. “I best be going.”

“Sure, see you tonight? What time will suit with Jamie?”

“Well he normally goes down about seven and he’ll just sleep in his car seat.” Katie smiled “So say six ish? I can feed him and settle him then at yours before we eat.”

“Fab.” Jenifer stood up and Katie mirrored her.“And thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Katie smiled, and she handed Jen her mug. Once the woman was out of sight she dug into her purse and dropped the customary twenty bucks into the tip jar on her way out.

****

Steve was in the kitchen when he heard his wife come home. He didn’t move though, he was too busy watching his son, trying to figure out how the hell the fourteen month old had managed to climb up on top of the breakfast bar unaided. Steve had turned his back for thirty goddamned seconds to load the dishwasher and now his son was crawling along the unit. The only explanation was he’d used one of the stools as leverage, but even that was baffling the Captain, and there was no way Jamie should have been able to manage that, at all.

“Thank you Dr Erskine” Steve grumbled as he swept his son off the surface. “You’re gonna be the death of me, pal.” “No!” Jamie cackled, and Steve sighed, his son carefully held in his arms as Katie walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Doll.” He smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips.

“Hi.” She greeted him, returning his gentle sign of affection before she blew a raspberry on Jamie’s cheek. He giggled as she made her way to the fridge and Steve deposited their boy on the mat at the corner of the room.

“How was Nat?” Steve asked and Katie sighed, grabbing out a bottle of water and opening it.

“Still insisting on flying out to Nepal.” She shut the fridge. “I’ve told her Barton doesn’t wanna be found, but…” she trailed off. “And Bruce has gone again.”

“Where to this time?” Steve frowned.

“Back to the lab in Seoul.” Katie shrugged. “I don’t know what for. Anyway, I told her to come for dinner on Sunday and that if she misses it again this week imma kick her ass.” Steve smiled as Katie took a drink from the bottle “Oh, and speaking of dinner, we’re not doing anything tonight are we?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me we are.” “Jen’s asked us round.” Katie sat down at the table.

“That’s nice of her.” Steve poured himself mug of coffee, Katie waving away his offer of one. “You wanna go?”

“Yeah, and it’s kind of a thank you so we should do really.”

“What for?” He sat down opposite her.

“Well, she was upset about not being able to send Brooke on the Field Trip so I offered to help out money wise.She didn’t want to take it at first but she agreed in the end. As long as it’s a loan”

“I’m glad she did. I’m assuming Emmy has stayed with them for the day?”

Katie hummed a response.

“Those two are joined at the hip.” Steve snorted

“Another reason I really wanted Brooke to go.”

A movement caught Steve’s eye from the corner of the room and he looked up to see Jamie was now stood up again and was heading back towards the breakfast bar. He quietly observed his son, watching as the boy gripped the legs of one of the stools and pulled himself up. Steve was horrified to see that he was managing to lift his legs off the floor, swinging them onto the foot bar.

“James, No!” He said loudly. The use of their boy’s full name didn’t pass Katie by and she turned in her seat to see Jamie looking at his father before he let go of the stool and fell backwards onto his butt, the pout on his face reminding Steve so much of his wife that he had to stifle a laugh. Katie watched as he got to his feet and toddled towards her.

“He managed to get up onto the kitchen counter before.” Steve eyed the boy as Katie picked him up and sat him on her knee. “What?” Katie’s voice was high pitched as she whipped her head round to look at Steve. “How the hell?”

“Beats me, although from that I suspect he was using the stool as a climbing frame.” Steve sighed watching as Jamie’s attention turned to the now empty bottle of water in front of Katie. “I was loading the dishwasher and in the time it took me to put the plates in he’d made it from his play mat to the top of the damned breakfast bar.” “This is your fault.” Katie laughed, smoothing down her son’s blonde hair. “You and your damned super serum.”

“I know.” Steve shook his head. “I thought we could take him and Lucky out for a walk maybe see if that settles his energy.”

Katie checked her watch “Yeah, we could do. Maybe head to the park. If we go now then we should be back for his nap.”

“Or we can wait a while, and he can sleep in the stroller and I can take you for lunch?”

“Okay so that sounds even better” she grinned “You know, you’re not as dumb as-“

Steve never found out what he wasn’t as dumb as, because at that moment they heard a yell that made his breath catch.

“DADA!”

The parents looked at one another, a shit eating grin spreading across Steve’s face as he leaned forward across the table.

“Dada?” Katie asked, pointing at Steve, bouncing Jamie on her knee. “Dada!” Jamie babbled again, grinning. “Dada!”

“Typical.” Katie rolled her eyes. “I carry you for nine months, give birth, feed you from my boobs and you come out looking like your father and you say Dada first. That’s gratitude for you”

“Guess that means I’m his favourite.” Steve teased, slumping back in his chair, earning himself a glare from his wife. He blew her a kiss, shrugging.

Steve was pleased, however that Katie didn’t have to wait long for her turn. A few days later when she went into Jamie’s room to get him up for the morning he beamed at her and held his arms up exclaiming “ma-ma!” Steve watched his wife on the baby monitor screen and felt his heart swell to what felt like five times its normal size as Katie picked up their son, her eyes pricking with tears and held him tight.

*****

June 2021

Katie woke with a start, pausing for a moment, wondering why it was so quiet. It took her a second but then she remembered Jamie was at Tony’s, staying for a sleepover. As Emmy was on her field trip, Pepper and Tony had taken the boy to give Katie and Steve a night on their own, the first one they had had in a very long time. Tony had rung them mid-afternoon to ask who on earth had taught him the word ‘whatever’, albeit in Jamie’s pronunciation ‘tever’ and Katie had laughed, that one was firmly down to Emmy. He hadn’t quite managed the sign to go with it yet thought, despite her best attempts.

They’d taken full advantage of it too. Steve had gone into complete romantic overdrive, coming home from a meeting at the tower with a bunch of calla lilies for his wife and told her to get dressed up as they were going out. They’d headed into Brooklyn for a meal at a small Italian (Katie only checking her phone five times, which was an improvement on the twenty the first time they’d left Jamie with his Uncle) and they’d had a great time. It had been intimate, and they’d teased each other relentlessly meaning when they got home they hadn’t even made it up the stairs before they’d been clawing at each other, desperate touches and kisses shared in the hallway before they’d both tumbled into the lounge onto the rug in front of the fire. Grinning to herself at the slight tenderness between her legs, Katie turned over and glanced at Steve who gently shifted in his sleep, a sure sign that he was slowly waking. She scooted closer and rested her hand on his chest, her smile widening as he unconsciously let out a soft sigh of contentment. His eyes were moving under their lids, and as her hand started trailing down over his stomach he took in a deep breath, finally opening his eyes and meeting her gaze just as her touch dipped below the waistband of his boxers. He let out a low groan.

“You’re awake early considering the kids are away.” He murmured, kissing the skin in the crook of her shoulder, his morning stubble scratching her skin slightly as she continued her strokes, teasing him lightly.

“Force of habit.” She whispered back, sighing as he kissed her neck again and again. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close until she was pressed against him, his thigh between hers as he rolled them both over so she was nestled under him. His lips made their way to hers and he gave her a deep, languid kiss as she shifted so that her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against her. Steve propped himself up with his left arm while his other hand went under the shirt she was wearing, his shirt, to her chest, his fingertips barely brushing against her nipples. She groaned loudly at his touch, and he was just about to warn her to be quiet, but then he realised he didn’t have to. With the knowledge that he really could make her scream, he hastily pulled the top over her head and his lips crashed back to hers, the kiss hot and intentional as her legs gripped him tightly in an attempt to get a little more friction between them. He went to tug at the waistband of her underwear, barely breaking his lips away from hers for a moment.

“You want me?” He asked, his voice low and raspy.

“Always,” she groaned, aware of the desperation that flooded her tone and Steve let out a low growl. Katie felt the tearing along one side of the thin lace garment he had hold of and she laughed into his mouth, remembering their first time together when he had done the very same thing. Her fingers scrambled to push down his boxers as he repositioned himself slightly, reaching down with his hand to line himself up, before he gently worked into her. Man and wife both let out a satisfied sigh as Steve’s hand grabbed Katie’s knee and hitched it over his shoulder, a move he knew drove her wild. She moaned loudly and her fingers dug into his arms as he starting pushing a little harder, a little faster, then faster, until he had reached a relentless pace making his wife curse and leaving her short of breath.

He slowed for a moment, making her look at him, letting out a noise of protest. “Don’t stop,” she begged, “Please Stevie.”

Grinning slightly he picked up the pace again, enjoying the noises she was making as she keened underneath him, her head pressing further back into the pillow a she gave another loud cry of his name before he felt her tighten round him as she came, her nails biting at the skin on his arms. He continued to thrust three, four more times before the snake in his belly uncoiled and he jerked on top of her with a loud cry of his own and let go of her leg, collapsing onto her, his face buried into her neck.

“Morning,” she mumbled, her hands tangling into his hair and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Morning, Beautiful.”

They stayed in bed for another hour or so, just laying with one another and talking before it was time to shower. They did that together too, and by the time they were climbing into the car to go and pick Jamie up, Katie was feeling literally and figuratively thoroughly fucked and fell asleep on the journey, Steve smirking to himself at the fact he could still tire her out like that after almost eight years of being with one another.

“Late night was it?” Tony quipped as Katie let out a yawn as she walked into his living room.

“Yeah, and an early morning,” she shot back and Tony snorted, shaking his head.

“Dada!” Jamie giggled as he tottered over from where he had been sat on the rug with Morgan and Pepper “Mama!”

“Hi, Baby!” Katie swept him up in her arms and placed a kiss to his cheek “We missed you.” “Nee!” He said gleefully and Katie frowned, and it wasn’t until he pointed to his uncle and repeated the word that she understood. “Nee!”

Steve let out a snort “Uncle Nee. Suits you Tone.” “Shut up, Spangles” Tony raised an eyebrow as Morgan laughed.

“Uncle Pangles!” The two year old quipped as if on cue, and Steve let out a moan

“Did you teach her that?” He looked accusingly at his brother in law.

“Of course he did.” Pepper sighed, sweeping the small girl into her arms as she stood up, smirking at Katie. “You guys eaten breakfast yet or were you too busy?” Katie let out a snort. “If there’s any going I won’t say no.”

Pepper handed Morgan to Steve as she was trying to reach him and he took her, tossing her into the air ignoring the wince from Tony as he did so, catching the girl expertly.

“Again!” she pleaded and Steve obliged happily, knowing that it was winding Tony up only added to the enjoyment of seeing his niece cackle with laughter. “When’s Emmy back?” Tony asked, tearing his eyes away from where Steve was tossing his daughter in the air like he was wielding that fucking shield to look at his sister.

“This evening.” Katie answered. “Spoke to her last night, not sure she wants to come home.” “I remember your field trip to San Fran.” Tony mused, raising an eyebrow and Katie snorted.

“Yeah, so do I.” She smirked “I was telling Jen about that the other month. My first hangover.” “Okay, can you stop that now!” Tony rounded on Steve who grinned and rest Morgan on his hip and she pouted.

“More!”

“Sorry, Moo.” Steve apologised and she gave a huff as he placed her on the floor and she headed off to find her mum in the kitchen. He arched an eyebrow at Tony who rolled his eyes.

“Dick.” He mumbled.

“Dick.” Jamie repeated loudly and Katie’s eyes widened. Steve looked at his son, utterly horrified, then to Tony whose shocked expression was fast turning into one of utter glee.

“Oh you-” Steve glared at Tony as Katie bit her lip to try and stop her laughter “For f-“ he stopped himself, took a deep breath and pointed at Tony. “You are an absolute…”

“Use your words, Old Man!” Tony grinned, delightedly and Steve’s jaw clenched as he turned so his back was to his son and raised his hand, flipping his brother-in-law off.

*****

October 2021

“Your daddy is gonna be soaked” Katie mused to Jamie as she looked out of the window “It’s absolutely pouring with rain.”

“Dada. Rain!” Jamie grinned, chanting the words back at her, ignoring the small piece of toast that was left on his plate.

Steve had gone for his morning run with Lucky before he headed out to the first of the two support groups he was running that day. He had held the first one in September in an old church hall, and at first Katie was worried that more people would attend to take their anger out on him and had wanted to be there to help but Steve refused point blank, but her concern wasn’t completely unfounded as a lot of people were angry at first, but no one else hit him, and he said it was actually therapeutic for him too, as he could answer questions, and speak honestly and openly about how he felt about the situation. As it turned out, Steve was a natural born councillor as well as a leader, and by the end of the month he had six different groups running through the week at different places across Manhattan. It was good for him and he was relishing the fact he could still be useful.

The back door opened, and Katie could hear the man she was thinking about stepping into the small utility room off the side of the kitchen.

“Ahhh thanks, pal, “his voice dripped with sarcasm as she heard Lucky’s tag tinkling along with the noise of the dog shaking, “that’s great. really great.” Katie chuckled to herself, picturing his face as he continued to grumble

“Could have waited until I got a towel.”

“DADA!” Jamie yelled at the sound of his dad’s voice, squirming in his seat, breakfast abandoned. “Ucky!”

“Hey, Buddy” Steve called back, as Katie undid the straps from his high chair and they made their way into the utility area where Steve was drying Lucky off as best he could with an old towel. Lucky took the opportunity as soon as he could to scoot past Katie into the kitchen.

Jamie glanced at his dad and excitedly wiggled his arms and legs as Steve shrugged off his sodden waterproof running jacket.

“Hi!” He screeched “Hi Dada!”

Steve’s bright smile light up his face “Hi, Son.” He kissed him once on both cheeks and Jamie squeaked happily before Katie set him down and he toddled back over to the play-mat in the corner of the kitchen.

“What, no kiss from my baby mama?” Steve asked, sweeping Katie into his arms and rubbing at her neck with his cold, damp face.

She squealed and tried to pull away, to absolutely no avail, and Steve continued to laugh and use her as a drying cloth.

“Ew! You’re cold and damp and sweaty!” She wrinkled her nose.

“You don’t seem to mind my sweat when I’m chasing your fourth orgasm.” Steve quipped cheekily, dropping his voice to barely more than a whisper, making her laugh.

“That’s different.” “How?”

“Because that’s sex sweat, this is run sweat.”

Steve laughed loudly “I didn’t realise I had different sweat pores for different activities”

“I didn’t mean that!” Katie rolled her eyes “I mean that I’m not sweaty now, I’m warm, and dry…” “Yeah, and if you give me a moment I can rectify that situation.”

“Dirtbag.” She grinned, his chuckle vibrating into her chest. "Go get showered and warmed up. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

"Kiss first.” Steve muttered before he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and despite herself, Katie leaned into his arms, her hands snaking up into his damp hair.

“Kissy!” Jamie giggled, and they broke apart to look at the tot who was sat on the floor clapping. “Kissy, kissy!”

“I’m gonna kill Emmy.” Steve muttered, and then he spotted Lucky expertly stealing the toast that Jamie had left on the highchair, before sidling out of the room with his precious treat. “And that damned dog.”

Katie laughed and gave him another peck on the cheek before Steve swept past his son, giving his hair a quick ruffle. She leaned back against the counter and smiled, before she sighed, her happy expression faltering a little. They’d had almost three years now of pretty much non-stop domestic bliss, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something surely had to come along at some point and turn it all upside down.

That was how things went for them, right?

“Mama!”

Her attention flew back to her son as he toddled over to her and held his arms up. “Hungry.” “Again?” Katie rolled her eyes as she picked him up.

“Yup.” He nodded emphatically.

Katie smiled, kissing his cheek, and moved him so he was perched on her hip. With one arm she placed more bread in the toaster and looked at her son, who smiled at her and pressed his lips to her cheek in a sloppy kiss.

“Love you.” He grinned and Katie beamed back at him, brushing his hair back.

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” And with that simple act, she managed to push those worries she had to the back of her mind, again, content to just enjoy what they had for as long as they had it.

**** Chapter 48 Part 1

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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whumpzone · 4 years

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Tomas and Rowe - Part 6

Hope you guys all enjoyed my (almost) cliffhanger last week! This chapter is the longest so far, and I worked very hard on it, so if you get whumperflies please let me know!!! <3

Next chapter might take a bit longer what with uni starting again soon but I will do my best to keep it to once a fortnight at the LATEST. so we’ll see!

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @oceanthesarcasamfox @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk (aka my loves. if you want to be tagged just ask!)

CW: pet whumpee, aftermath of torture, creepy whumper, general violence, panic attacks

The door handle turned. Rowe whimpered. He wished it would just fly open, slam against the wall, hurry it up. He’d been curled up in his room ever since Master Tomas had casually mentioned that he was going grocery shopping, and Kasia would be coming over to get some work done. Rowe had felt the blood drain from his face, not him not him not him, I want to be good, I’ve tried so hard to be good for you Master-

“I’ve had a really stressful day at work,” Kasia said as he stepped into the room, in a low voice that made Rowe go cold. “Stand up.”

Rowe didn’t hesitate. “Take your shirt off.” He complied. “Arms behind your back.” He did as he was told.

“Wow, you really are pathetic, you know that?” said Kasia. “And I deal with a lot of Pets.”

Kasia took a few more steps towards Rowe until he could smell the cigarettes on his breath. He took Rowe’s face roughly and stared at him. A calloused thumb ran over his lips, making the hair on the back of Rowe’s neck stand up, and still Kasia just stared. Rowe kept his eyes on the ground, trembling.

“You’re so…,” Kasia laughed, “I can’t believe I gave my mate such an ugly Pet. And he hasn’t even hit you, has he? You must think you can just relax and walk all over him.”

Rowe shook his head, minutely but firmly, blinking away tears. No, no, I won’t relax, I won’t get comfortable. I’m just a Pet, I got tossed out, I’m worthless. Serving my Master is a privilege. I won’t forget.

Rowe was grateful for the discipline. He could get so caught up in why Master Tomas wanted him to do something, when really his place was as an obedient Pet. Not questioning, just accepting. He needed this reminder.

“Even looking at you annoys me. You don’t deserve an owner like Tomas.”

And then the first punch came, hard, sudden, into the side of his ribcage, and Rowe’s vision blinkered as he buckled and fell to the ground.

“Seriously? You’re on the floor after one punch? I thought I could have some fun beating you down.”

Rowe’s arms shook as he tried to push himself back up, his chest throbbing with every shallow breath. Kasia stamped a boot onto his back and he thumped against the ground, gasping as Kasia pressed harder and harder until Rowe was squirming, trying desperately to make his limbs work again, but the thought of being disobedient was enough to make his body limp. He could feel the barely-healed wounds on his back opening up. It was like being whipped all over again. The weight momentarily lifted from his back, only to come down far harder. Rowe’s jaw clacked sickeningly against the floor and he bit his tongue, hard. Pain exploded in his mouth. He moaned weakly and Kasia delivered a savage kick to his ribs, in the same place he’d just been punched.

“How’s your nose, Pet?” Kasia said roughly, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back until Rowe’s eyes met his. “Healed any?”

“I-it’s, agh, p-please, I d-don’t know-”

Kasia lifted Rowe’s head higher, and he suddenly realised with a rush of nausea what was coming. Fear overtook him as he cried out.

“N-no, no, please- don’t! No!”

It felt like a twisted version of déjà vu as Kasia crushed Rowe’s face into the floor, making him howl in pain. His nose was making horrifying crunching noises. Rowe cried desperately, hitting his fists off the floor to force himself not to grapple Kasia’s arm, not to do anything that might anger him further.

All of Master Tomas’s kindness, the ice pack and the painkillers and the gentle towel cleaning blood off his face, all of it was undone in a few seconds. Rowe wept harder at the thought of it. Master had wasted so much on him.

Kasia eventually let go and Rowe choked as he lifted his face, blood streaming into his mouth. The pain was so bad he could hardly think. He pushed himself up, turning to face Kasia and save his back any more pain.

“Please-” he sobbed, “please d-d-don’t-”

“Bit late for that,” laughed Kasia. “You’re fun to mess around with. I feel better already. But I can’t beat you too bad or Tomas will notice.”

“Wh-wh-what if h-he asks about my n-n-nose,” Rowe stammered out.

Kasia smiled at this and casually knelt down over Rowe, straddling him heavily. He grabbed his neck with one hand and pinned him down. With his other hand he slid a thumb over Rowe’s eye socket and held it there. No pressure, yet. Yet. Rowe forced himself to be still, and good, and take it.

“If you tell him,” began Kasia, digging his thumb in slightly. Blobs of grey fuzz appeared in Rowe’s vision. “I’ll not only make you regret the day you were born-” his thumb pushed in harder, “-I’ll also tell him you’re lying and he’ll throw you out-” and harder. Rowe started to whimper in fear, “-and then I’ll make you my Pet full-time. And I won’t hesitate to chop off and rearrange and reshape any part of you I dislike. Like your eyes, for instance. Or your tongue. Or your fingers. Do you understand?”

Rowe could barely breathe with Kasia’s full weight upon him. He couldn’t nod, couldn’t move his face at all while the thumb in Rowe’s eye made his entire head felt like it could burst with pain. He whined pathetically with his last bit of breath. Kasia looked at him solidly and for a second Rowe thought he really would gouge his eye out, but then Kasia took both his hands away and patted Rowe roughly on the cheek as he gasped.

“Good boy. So how did you get these injuries? You clumsy thing. You’ve busted your nose again and, well, you’re gonna have a bruise on your ribs.”

“I-I walked into a door, sir.”

“Yeah, you did. Now get up and clean the blood off your face.”

. . .

Tomas bustled through the front door and nudged it closed with his hip, his hands full of shopping bags. ‘’Kas? You’ve not burnt the place down then?’’

‘’Not for lack of trying,’’ came the reply as Kasia walked over and took a few of the bags. ‘’Let me get some of those. You feeding the five hundred?’’

Tomas smiled sheepishly. ‘’There’s a lot of food I don’t think Rowe’s tried yet… have you seen him at all?’’

‘’Nope. Heard him pattering around upstairs, though. Slammed the door pretty hard at one point. I didn’t go up to check on him, I hope you understand. I just figured, if he’s that nervous around you…’’

‘’Yes, yes, of course. Don’t worry.’’

‘’Well, I’d best be on my way. You know, your house is wonderfully quiet. Don’t hesitate if you need me to watch it again, please. I could get so much more work done in a calm place like this.’’

‘’Thank you so much, mate. I’ll let you know, yeah,’’ Tomas said warmly as Kasia grabbed his jacket and headed off.

He had barely closed the door when he heard light footsteps coming down the stairs. Tomas turned to see Rowe kneeling before him in his usual position, with his forehead to the floor. He still found it unnerving, seeing this frail man, covered in scars and bruises, submitting before him. ‘’Welcome back, Master Tomas.’’

‘’Hey, Rowe,’’ Tomas said, crouching slowly and reaching out a hand to the back of Rowe’s head, watching for a reaction. Rowe didn’t flinch, or stiffen- in fact, he leaned into the touch. Tomas ruffled his hair gently. Before he could invite Rowe back up, he spoke again.

‘’Master, please allow me to handle the cooking tonight, a-and any other chores you need me for.’’

‘’Oh, o-okay,’’ said Tomas. ‘’Um, well you can certainly join me in the cooking. I don’t want you to have to do it all yourself. And here, let me help you up.’’

Rowe began to unfold himself and Tomas held out a hand. After a moment of hesitation, he slipped his fingers between Tomas’s and let him take some of his weight as he stood. Tomas frowned in pity as he saw Rowe’s face- a neat bandage lay across his nose. Small bruises had formed under each eye- which was something a broken nose could cause, according to the internet. They looked deathly against his pallid skin. Rowe saw him frowning and Tomas felt the hand he was holding go stiff.

‘’P-please, Master, let me cook for you. I-It’s the least I c-can do.’’

He looked so… terribly sad. ‘’You can help, Rowe. Um- Kasia said he heard something slamming upstairs? Did you do something to your nose?’’

‘’I- I walked into a door, Master. I was foolish and careless and s-stupid. Please- please punish me for my ugliness.’’

‘’Aw, Rowe,’’ Tomas murmured involuntarily. ‘’You don’t look ugly. I wouldn’t hurt you over something like- I wouldn’t, I mean, I wouldn’t hurt you at all. I’m not going to punish you. Have you been worrying about that?’’

Rowe’s eyes dropped and he slowly nodded.

‘’Thank you for telling the truth. I don’t think you’re ugly at all.’’ It seemed to be something that was concerning him, so Tomas added, ‘’If I do, I’ll tell you, okay?’’

Rowe’s shoulders loosened and looked up at Tomas again. ‘’Yes, Master. Thank you.’’

Crisis averted? Tomas thought. ‘’Okay, great. Let’s start chopping some veg.’’

. . .

Rowe sliced the knife down harder as he hands trembled. He was doing his best, he really was, he was trying to just be fucking useful for once, but he was so on edge with Master Tomas so near to him. Rowe was constantly checking over his shoulder, so he could be ready for the first slap or punch. The knife in his hand reminded him of the times he’d been made to bring his master the tool that would be used to punish him.

Rowe was holding a weapon. An instrument for causing pain. Once again he wished he could be normal, wished he could be a good, blank, Pet, instead of one that couldn’t even chop vegetables without thinking about all the ways the knife could cut and slice and open and chop off- chop off- like Kasia had said-

Rowe’s head spun. He felt sick. Kasia wasn’t here. It was only Master. He was the one Rowe should be worrying about. Master could do as he pleased, Rowe repeated to himself, over and over. If Master wants to use the knife on me, I’ll let him. Of course I’ll let him.

. . .

Tomas stirred the stock cube absent-mindedly, his back to Rowe. He had tried to put enough space between him and Rowe to, hopefully, make Rowe feel a little more at ease. He watched as the hot water swirled around his spoon. The sound of rhythmic chopping behind him told him that Rowe was working diligently.

. . .

The carrot seemed to bend and stretch before him as Rowe tried to gather his thoughts. He was okay, he was okay. He hadn’t angered Master, not yet. So far, he was mercifully being ignored. Rowe looked back down and held the knife firmly.

The little coins of carrot were mostly even. Rowe hoped that would be good enough.

. . .

Tomas gently scraped in the onions and garlic and let them simmer. He rolled up his sleeves as the kitchen warmed up.

. . .

The knife was so sharp. Rowe was staring at it as he worked, not even looking at the vegetables, just watching the blade, waiting for Master to turn around and yank it out of his hand and order Rowe to his knees. Why did Master keep saying he wouldn’t hurt him? Rowe wanted to believe it every time, and every time it took longer for him to snap out of it. He moved his fingers out of the way at the last second as he brought the knife down shakily.

. . .

Tomas turned around. ‘’Rowe-‘’ he began, taking a step towards him. Rowe jerked in surprise and spun to face him.

. . .

The knife was still in his hand. He’d been so startled by Master Tomas suddenly being right there behind him that he had gripped it harder reflexively as he turned. Rowe stared down in horror. A long, thin cut ran along Master’s exposed forearm, all the way to his hand. Tiny drops of blood were beginning to form.

And then Rowe’s mind went blank.

. . .

Tomas easily caught Rowe as he fainted. The knife bounced off the floor and Tomas kicked it out of the way. The cut was superficial, and sure it was a surprise, but it hardly hurt. Still, he knew enough to realise how grave this was. A Pet hurting their owner. His stomach twisted at the thought of the beating that would have earned Rowe in the past. No wonder he passed out.

He gently laid Rowe on the couch, grabbed some kitchen roll, and wrapped it around his arm. Perching on the armrest, Tomas let himself look at the man in his care.

He could see long scars along his thighs, like he’d be belted while kneeling. Deep red scrapes, cuts and sores ran around his wrists, the scars of old restraints. His chest was rising and falling evenly, and his face looked soft. Relaxed. Tomas watched his fingers flick minutely, his lips part as he breathed. He wasn’t screaming. He looked peaceful for the first time since Tomas had got him.

And then… Rowe stirred. A groan rumbled in his chest as he rolled his head, and Tomas quickly put a hand to Rowe’s cheek to stop him grinding his nose. This made Rowe’s eyes finally twitch open, little by little then all at once when he remembered what had happened and saw Tomas sitting over him. He cried out, he hands scrambling to find purchase as he pushed himself away, tumbling off the sofa and ramming his forehead against the floor so hard that Tomas heard the crack.

‘’Oh, God, please!’’ he cried, his voice cracking as sobs and gasps racked through him, ‘’P-please Master I’m so, s-s-so sorry, I’m so sorry, I w-w-would n-never, I, I mean, I d-don’t, I w-was trying so ha-ard to be good-‘’

‘’Rowe, it’s okay,’’ Tomas blurted out, raising his voice. He grabbed his shoulders and lifted his head up off the ground. Rowe’s eyes were bright with fear like Tomas had never seen before. It was so intense that he let go of his shoulders reflexively and Rowe shrank into himself, trembling before his owner.

‘’I swear, I s-swear I c-can be better, Master, I ca-an, please please don’t s-send me back, I-I’ll take any pun-nishment like- like a good Pet, I’ll be g-good-‘’

‘’Rowe-‘’

‘’I-It w-was an accident, please Master p-p-please believe me, I wo-would n-never do some-something like that, I’m begging you-‘’

‘’Rowe, I’m not going t-’’

‘’Please,’’ begged Rowe hoarsely, tears rolling down his cheeks, and something in his voice made Tomas stop and listen. ‘’Please, Master, please, I can’t- I don’t know why you want me to b-b-believe that you wo-won’t hurt me, but I can’t d-do it, I just wa-want to be good s-s-so bad and I ca-an’t, I k-keep messing up a-and you never hurt me and I j-just want to be good, I w-want to be good I don’t want to- to get thr-rown out and I need p-p-punishment, Master, please…’’ he gasped.

‘’I’m not….. you are being good. You’re being really good.’’ Tomas felt his heart breaking.

Rowe’s sobbing was becoming weaker and weaker as he ran out of energy. He stared up at Tomas with eyes that were sparkly and wet. He looked utterly broken.

‘’I just want to get it over with, Master.’’

‘’No, I’m not going to punish you,’’ Tomas said seriously.

‘’I’m begging you,’’ he cried, his voice cracking. ‘’I can’t- I can’t take this waiting a-anymore! Please, Master, please, I want it, l- let me throw myself at your mercy, I w-want to be punished f-for my disobedience, please treat y-your Pet the way I d-d-deserve, I’ll take anything for you Master, please beat me, please cut me, please whip me, pl-‘’

‘’Rowe, stop! Stop it! Stop it, please, stop,’’ Tomas shouted. Rowe fell silent immediately with a whimper. ‘’I know- I can see that’s what you thought I wanted to hear. I understand. But I’m not- this isn’t a test, or a game, okay? You don’t need pain to be good.’’

Rowe kept his mouth shut, flinching as Tomas sank down next to him.

‘’All this time you’ve been waiting for a punishment that never came.’’ Rowe nodded. Tomas exhaled deeply as he thought. Rowe needed order, and he followed rules diligently, and Tomas had fucked up by leaving Rowe in limbo with no idea when he would be punished. At least now, he had let Tomas know what was distressing him. A punishment would give him a bit of comfort, in a twisted way. ‘’Okay, Rowe, I will punish you.’’

Rowe burst into fresh tears, pressing his face to the floor. ‘’Th-thank you, thank you Master, thank you, thank you, thank you.’’

Tomas gently took Rowe’s chin and lifted his head. Was this just putting off the difficult conversations until another day? Or was this an act of mercy, relieving the mental suffering Rowe had been putting himself through? Tomas decided on the latter. Screaming at Rowe that he wouldn’t hurt him while Rowe shook and cried and begged didn’t seem very productive.

‘’Firstly, since you gave me this cut it only seems fair that you bandage it up.’’

‘’Yes, Master,’’ Rowe choked out as he ran upstairs to get the first aid kit. Tomas sat back up on the couch and peeled off the kitchen towels that were now sticky with blood. Rowe returned, discarded them, and got on with dressing the cut. Rowe’s hands were still as he pressed the anti-bacterial wipe against his Master’s skin. The bandage wrapped around his arm was neater than Tomas had ever seen before. He had to bite back the praise he wanted to give Rowe- this was a punishment, he reminded himself. He steeled himself to deliver Rowe’s punishment.

‘’I’m going up to my office. Finish cooking and bring it to me, then wash up and tidy the house. While I’m working tomorrow, stay out of my way and don’t disturb me. The only time I want to see or hear you is if I ask you to do something, which you will do immediately. Understood? You can speak freely again in 24 hours.’’

‘’Yes, Master Tomas,’’ Rowe whispered as he hurried to the kitchen counter. Tomas took himself upstairs and buried his head in his hands. He hated how good he was at sounding stern. He hated how unnatural it felt. He couldn’t shake the fear that he was undoing all of the progress Rowe had made.

#just as a note... tomas has given rowe permission to use any first aid he wants #but i couldnt mention it without it sounding SUPER clunky lol #mine #whump #pet whumpee #pet whump #tomas and rowe #master/pet #whump fic #aftermath of torture

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carelesscreativity · 3 years

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CherryBerry Stars for tinystarfruit: Commission for Ko-Fi

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(SFW, Fluff)

What's a star?

Red walked along quietly. His soul was pounding so hard he could barely think as he focused on the bouncing bundle of happiness in front of him. Another bead of sweat rolled down his skull and it had nothing to do with the multiple layers he was wearing. He’d promised to show Blue Underfell’s version of Waterfall. It wasn’t much different, other than the fact that the Echo Flowers here were red and pink.

Blue was talking, but Red could barely hear him, being completely tuned out. “Red!” He snapped back to the present as Blue huffed at him. “Were you listening to anything I just said?!” Red stared at him with the same look as a startled deer and Blue sighed. “You need to start listening better!” Red blinked and looked down, nodding as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, mumbling that he probably did.

Can you touch it?

Red jumped as Blue practically appeared in front of him. “Red, you’re sweating really bad... I mean, you usually sweat, but not this much...” His loud, boisterous voice seemed to tone down now that they were in a quiet place like Waterfall. Red kept glancing around. He was so worried they were going to run into someone else and Blue would try to make ‘friends’ again. It didn’t usually go so well. He gave a weak scoff.

Why did all the monsters that frequented this area seem to be gone now? He tried desperately to think of a pun. Anything. His mind was coming up blank and Blue seemed even more concerned now. “And... you aren’t making a pun?” That kicked Red off and he spoke quickly enough that his sharpened teeth clacked together.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m all sweat here.” He gave a weak chuckle as Blue fixed him with his signature look of disapproval. If Red didn’t know any better, he might’ve also seen the look of relief underneath all that dissatisfaction. Blue sighed and declared that he seemed fine. Red bit back a sigh of relief as Blue turned away and continued to scamper along. He watched him.

Can you eat it?

Red ducked his head as Blue lifted his to stare up at the makeshift starry ceiling. Red was waiting as he stood next to him. He wanted to see it happen. Sure enough, Blue’s cerulean eyelights were reshaping themselves into stars of their own. He could see the faint glow on the other’s cheeks as he whispered that Underfell seemed to have a lot more stars than he thought.

They had both stopped at the edge of a glowing pool of water and for a moment, Red had a huge flash of dread that Onionsan was going to appear and ruin this for him. The bastard always appeared when a monster walked close to the edge of the water. To Red’s confusion and suspicion, the octopus monster did not appear. Waterfall seemed to be completely vacant except for the two of them.

Can you kill it?

He focused his gaze back on Blue. He jumped, inhaling sharply as he felt the other’s gloved hand grab his own. “Did you know that humans named their stars?? Undyne found a book about it once and she showed me!” Blue chirped excitedly. It took Red a moment before remembering that Undyne was the Royal Scientist of Underswap. NOT Captain of the Royal Guard. It was still jarring to him. Blue pointed up to the ceiling with a soft giggle.

“Do you think we could draw shapes with our stars too??” He asked, turning to Red with that hug smile that made the other skeleton’s soul melt a little. He stared at Blue for a moment before he felt heat rise to his cheeks and he mumbled that maybe they could, but he didn’t really care. Blue gave a huff, but didn’t let go of his hand. If anything, he gave it a tiny squeeze. “Why don’t you like the stars, Red?? They’re so pretty!”

He didn’t really care for stars anymore. Red had already seen the real deal so many times. Red blinked as Blue guided the both of them to sit down at the water’s edge. He didn’t let go of Red’s hand and scooted a little closer to him. Red lit up, true to his name, as he felt Blue lean against his shoulder. Blue seemed worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?? You’re sweating so much and you’ve barely said a word!” Red glanced over at him, meeting Blue’s starry gaze.

“Are you a star?”

He couldn’t help himself, leaning forward and pressing his teeth to the other’s as Blue was still processing his soft-spoken question. The other’s face went bright blue and he pressed back against Red after a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. He seemed to be expecting the usual, messy, open-mouthed kiss, only to blink in shock as Red pulled away. “I... Red... what do you...?” He was at a loss for words. And that was VERY unusual for him.

Was he a star? That’s what Red had asked. He’d NEVER heard Red speak like that, in a barely there whisper. It almost hadn’t even sounded like him. Red had turned his face away, glowing bright red. He’d fucked it up. He was screaming at himself internally. He hadn’t meant to word it like that. What the hell was wrong with him?? If Papyrus had been there, he would’ve beat Red’s ass for throwing the whole thing out the window.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to... That wasn’t what I meant to... Fuck...” He buried his head in his hands and Blue stared at him. He wasn’t even going to scold Red about language. The other seemed so stressed and Blue couldn’t figure out why. It made him sadden and he moved over, facing Red and wrapping his arms tightly around him as he assured him it was okay. He nudged his face against Red’s shoulder.

“Are you sick? We can go back and I can make you soup!” Blue said, worrying for the other. Red shook his head, keeping it buried in his knees as he mumbled that it was fine. Blue’s shoulders sank. He settled himself against Red, keeping himself tucked against his partner’s side. He couldn’t help but wonder what Red had been trying to get at. “Red... what did you mean... asking if I was a star?”

Red’s blush only spread to his shoulders as he screamed internally, trying to hide himself in the yellow fur of his hoodie. “No, no, you aren’t allowed to hide!” Blue insisted, keeping the hood pulled down as Red reached for it. “Stars are nice, so I’m sure it couldn’t have been anything bad!” Red gulped quietly. Blue was right. It definitely wasn’t anything bad. His other hand had been tucked in his pocket the entire time.

“Red, I have been with you long enough to understand when something is truly bothering you! And I told you that I am always here to listen, no matter how outlandish or strange it is!” Blue huffed quietly and his shoulders sank. “I... thought we were past you not talking to me.” Red immediately jolted up to stare at him, blurting out again.

“W-We are! I... I promise...” Fuck, he hated promises. Blue stared at him with wide eyes. Blue also knew he hated promises and he stared at him patiently, his gloved hands tucked in his lap. He really was sweating a lot. He jumped as Blue reached out, slipping his hands under his jacket. “H-Hey! Blue!” He was wide eyed. Blue blinked at him.

“You’re sweating a LOT, Red! Please?” He said. Red stared at him. He couldn’t say no to that face. He looked down and allowed Blue to push the jacket off of his shoulders, exposing his T-Shirt and the spiked collar he wore around his neck. It did feel a LOT cooler. He saw Blue’s gaze fix on it for a few moments before the soldier-in-training’s gaze flicked away. Red knew Blue didn’t like the collar, but he couldn’t just... stop wearing it. “Maybe we should go back.”

“But the best is sweat to come!” Red immediately regretted his pun and he covered his face as he grumbled a soft apology. He blinked as he heard something and looked up, his eyes wide. Blue was... He was laughing? He loved the sound of Blue’s laugh and he immediately felt his soul speed up and melt simultaneously. Blue giggled.

“Wowie... that was really bad...” He smiled at Red. “But I think that might be the funniest one.” Red gulped and reached out to Blue. The other seemed to get the message and moved forward, embracing Red in another quiet hug. He fell backwards with Blue on top of him. His jacket was cushioning him. He laid like that for a few moments, just keeping Blue on top of him.

“Y-You’re affectionate today! B-But, uh, if we are progressing to the second volume of the Dating Manual, I still have yet to get it!” He sounded nervous. Red stared up at him before chuckling quietly and murmuring that he wasn’t going for that. Blue let out an audible sign of relief before giggling. “I may be the Magnificent Sans, but even someone as glorious as I, c-can’t improvise the second stage!”

The entire time, Red had been staring into Blue’s darting eyelights. He reached up quietly and silenced the other’s nervous rambling with a hand to his cheek. Those eyelights fixed back on him and Red chuckled a little as he watched them blow back up into stars. Blue blushed and got a little huffy, asking why Red was laughing. He propped himself up, his hands on either side of Red’s head.

“Y’know... I don’t really like stars... but you... You make me rethink that every time I see you. And I know you can’t really catch a star, but I think I did.” He was pulling something from his jacket pocket and he held it against his chest, covered by his bony fingers. His face was glowing red. “You’re the only star I’ve ever caught, and...” He opened his hands to reveal a small, velvet box. Blue’s soul squeezed TIGHT and his starry eyelights grew wide.

“I think I’d like to keep you forever.” Red finished before he flicked open the box to show the ring and Blue’s mind completely stopped for a moment. “So, uh... I’m trying to ask if you would like to ma-”

He jumped as Blue cut him off with a kiss, tears already running down his glowing face. Red pressed back against him. “Y-Yes!! Yes, I accept!! I accept!!” Blue cried through tiny little sobs. Red stared at him, not even realizing he’d started to cry as well before Blue’s gloved thumbs were wiping at his cheeks. The other giggled tearfully as Red spoke in a shaky voice.

“C-Cool...”

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 18: SAFE HOUSE

—

A/N: I hope you guys like this one ! I just wanted to add a little bit of fluff after all that angst-fest. Happy reading my loves! :)

———

"Enigma." I mumbled, the strange woozy feeling in my chest expanding as I shifted in my car seat to turn to Pietro.

"What?"

"I figured it out. I'm your enigma. Everyone has one." There was a lightness to my words as I said them and oddly enough, I didn't really mind. "You said you couldn't figure me out, therefore I'm your enigma."

I could see his hands on the wheel tighten just a little bit. The whole car ride, I'd been observing him. I just couldn't get his words out of my head.

You're driving me crazy, Y/N.

My head felt like it was about to explode by the sheer amount of force it took for me to figure out what he really meant. I felt...perplexed. I was wracking my entire brain out by trying to decipher the whole point of our previous conversation. Why did I drive him crazy? Why did he feel the need to tell me that?

Why did I feel like I should trust him?

"My enigma?" He scoffed, throwing a playful, cocky look my way. "You are nothing close to anything I'd call mine."

I rolled my eyes, "You know, it's no wonder you've got a head full of grey hair, you grouch."

"Hey!" He gasped, genuinely shocked at my comment. "I am most definitely not a grouch."

His accent made his reaction much better than I could've imagined. The way he rolled his R's made me laugh a little, so I copied it just for kicks, the letter teetering on the edge of my tongue. "Yep, a grouch would most definitely say that."

I scanned his face for any signs of annoyance, waiting to see if my words left any impression on him. Instead, I saw his expression grow heavier. I'd miss it if I blinked, but I swore I saw a flash of that same expression he wore when he confronted me before in my cell. Seriously, I have got to figure him out, and soon. Before I'm too vulnerable.

"We're here."

I turned around, looking out of the window to see the building I'd been dreading to return to. My heart felt like it had been dipped in acid and encased in lead. Suddenly, I knew why Pietro grew quiet.

Getting out of the facility had been fun, exhilarating almost. Steve had helped me escape just as he promised and left me with Pietro in the garage, handing him the car keys and giving him strict instructions to drive away while remaining incognito.

Pietro had a dazed look on his face then, part-confusion and part-anxiety, but I knew that we had one thing in similar; roguery in our veins. Pietro is a little troublemaker, I had mused as I eyed his way-too-giddy movements. He had no trouble following his Captain's orders, he was eager almost.

I told Steve that we could hide in an old safe house of mine, a tiny studio located somewhere in a sketchy town that was close to the facility so it was reachable by car, but far enough so that it wouldn't be a problem if any of his teammates were to come looking. At least we'd have enough time to escape if they did.

The last time I'd been here had been 2 years ago. Back when I thought I was still running from The Winter Soldier. Everything the Captain had revealed to me made me want to throw up. How else were you supposed to feel when someone told you that you'd been running and hiding for years, from a ghost? I felt like I'd been on an unprompted wild goose chase, except that instead of chasing the 'goose', I'd been chased by it. What a joke.

"You alright?"

Pietro raised an eyebrow, nothing but that disgusting kindness in his eyes. I wanted to strangle him right then and there. Was he offering me pity?

I threw him a half-hearted scowl, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm just asking. This can't be easy for you, no?"

His words hit me like a truck, and the realisation that he wasn't offering me pity, but simply just inquiring, soon came after. It was an odd question to be asked. I'd rarely been offered that luxury, of someone caring enough to ask if you were alright or not. It felt weird to be on the receiving end of that kind of sincerity, something I thought only existed out of my own realm. Yet here I was, trying to figure out the answer to his question.

I shook my head in an effort clear my thoughts, sort of like an etch-a-sketch. "I've been through worse."

We entered the building quietly, ignoring the looks thrown our way from a few bystanders. It was a rather rundown building, just as I had remembered it to be. I'd never made company with any of the people who live here, because how could I have? What kind of shit assassin would do that?

"They must not be used to new faces, huh?" Pietro tried—and failed—to ignore the man eyeing us from our right, clearly uncomfortable with the unwanted staring.

"I'd assume not. It's a pretty small town."

Pietro cleared his throat, "I see."

He looked a little uneasy, shifting from foot to foot. I followed his line of gaze and oh my god, the man was still staring.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I snarled. He scurried away immediately, eyes averting from us either in shock or in fear. Though it was most likely the latter, considering the way he kept looking back with wild eyes to see if we would chase him down.

I turned back to my speedster companion, and sure enough, he looked much better than he did before. "It's fine, he's just a creep."

He nodded, "I was never fond of creeps."

We climbed up the flight of stairs that lead to the studio apartment, silent the whole way up with Pietro taking in his surroundings and with me being a bit preoccupied with the thoughts swimming in my head. Memories from my past kicked in violently, and I tried to swallow them down.

"Is this it?" He said as I stopped in front of a tattered door with the number 42 on top of it, pointing to it with his right hand.

"Yep." I walked closer to the door, reaching up to the number 4 and trying to detach it from the wall. Apparently though, it was too high for me, sitting just at the tip of my fingers. Either someone had moved it higher, or I'd grown shorter since

Heels. I'd worn my goddamn heels when I last set this thing up. I'd have slapped myself by now if my hands weren't occupied.

Annoyed, I groaned and stood on the tip of my toes. Just a bit more.

"Here."

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his voice reverberating through his chest which was now level to my head. Pietro came up behind me with his taller stature, his height enabling him to reach for the 4 in less than a second, his hand brushing against mine in the process. I blinked, hard, trying to steady myself and grab hold of my thoughts. I felt my face grow hot, warmth spreading through my skin like fire.

I tried not to make it obvious, how much his skin contact had bothered me. I felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it, and even more so that it was caused by him. What the hell? My throat felt tight, so I cleared it with a cough and put on a neutral expression seamlessly.

He backed away as soon as he grabbed hold of the number, twirling it around his fingers with a playful, lopsided smile. Holy shit, I want to rip it off his face. Just punch the living shit out of him.

"Hmm, maybe you're not that useless after all." I scoffed.

He grinned, "Well, if the grouch hadn't been here, it would've taken you all day to reach for this thing."

"Huh, so you admit you are a grouch."

"I didn't—Whatever you say, gnome."

"Wow, look at you." I snickered. "Practicing sarcasm are we? Pray, do tell, was I your inspiration?"

He shook his head in defeat, then he flipped the 4 over, eyebrows meeting in the middle. "What is this anyway? Some sort of secret hidden in here?"

Classic topic changer.

"Yes," I snatched the sign from him. "A very important secret actually."

I turned the thing around and pressed hard on the back of the long vertical line with my nails, breaking the plastic cover. It gave in with a little bit of pressure, and I dug my fingers in to pull out the slender, metal object that I had hidden 2 years ago.

"Ah. The key." Pietro looked impressed.

"Smart, isn't it? It's an old trick that I stole from a woman in Amsterdam."

He moved closer, and I felt myself flinching a little, afraid my body would have the same reaction that it did just a few seconds ago. Luckily, he didn't notice how distressed I was.

"Why bother though, if you weren't going to keep the key with you? Why not just kick down the door or climb in through a window or something?"

There he goes again, with his perpetual rambling.

"We're 4 floors up idiot, climbing in through the window is too risky, people might see and I might fall and die, which is not very ideal, in case you haven't figured that out yet." I inserted the key into the lock and twisted it, hearing the clack of the latch and bolts as they moved.

"Plus, I just did it for fun. I never even knew if I'd come back here or if this building would even still be intact by the time that I did."

He didn't take up the trouble to reply, or even if he did, I didn't hear him. The moment the door opened and I stepped foot inside the room, I was immersed in the haze of my past. A version of my life that was drastically different to the one I had now.

My emotions were all over the place.

A cloud of dust covered the room from years of vacancy, our shoes creating imprints onto the floor. I was surprised no one had broken in for the whole 2 years. Somewhere in the back of my head though, the memory of me threatening the landlord popped up.

"If I come back and I find out that my house got fucked up, I won't hesitate to drive this knife through your chest."

It's a wonder how far a knife and few sharp words could get you.

"Looks like it needs a bit of vacuuming, just a bit. But that's just my opinion."

I fumbled around for something hard and chucked it at Pietro's head with full force, earning an 'Ow!' immediately after.

"What was that for?"

"I've been meaning to throw something at you for a while now." I shrugged, then continued to explore my previous home even further.

It was exactly as I left it, minus the accumulated bits of dirt and the herd of dust bunnies. I walked to the small kitchen space, opening the cabinets and finding the slightly dented kettle and the 2 mugs I had kept there, untouched. Then I fished around the drawer beneath it and eventually found the box of—hopefully unexpired—tea packets and some Sweet'N Low's.

My fingers clasped around the faucet knob and turned, waiting for a good minute for running water. "Come on, come on..."

After some violent sputtering and grumbling from the sink, out came the water flow. Yes! I cheered mentally.

Then I turned to the silver-haired grouch, gesturing to the tea packets I held between my fingers. "Care for some tea?"

He shrugged, "Only if you won't poison me."

taglist: @ifilwtmfc

#run pietro x reader #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff #i want this slow burn to end already oh my god #marvel #marvel female reader insert #slow burn enemies to lovers #mcu imagines #avengers age of ultron #marvel reader insert

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nozomijoestar · 3 years

Text

I used to have this story exclusively on my Ao3 but since I deleted that last December its taken me months to feel any rhythm of comfort uploading writing online again be it original or not; so I’m finally planning to reupload stuff I saved that isn’t already tagged here

Originally written under ‘Start and Start Again’ for She-Ra Fluff Bang 2020 and my first standalone novella length thing at 10k

The journey of Catra’s ever changing life begins with one step forward

It started as a bump on her stomach. A mild thing no bigger than her fist. Yet it stuck out the way the crown piece of a treasure hoard shines. Catra stumbled backwards; gripped the sink to keep her balance. She stared deeper into the full length mirror. The bump remained, had it gotten taller in this light? It was smooth to the touch or rather as smooth as fur could be. The softness of her was something to take great pride in. Anyone who assumed her messy were proven dead wrong. Now wasn't the time for petty thinking however.

Catra sank to the floor still clutching her stomach. She felt it join as part of her, this new thing, and if she strained her ears she just knew it had a heartbeat. A child. Adora's- no their child. She has to swallow to not shout 'Holy Shit!!!' at the top of her lungs. Instead it makes her bite her lip until blood trickles. Catra winces then recovers; she stands and runs water to splash on her face. The woman staring back in the vanity mirror is smiling under the wet bangs sticking to her forehead; smiling like an idiot now disheveled. She pivots and bolts out the bathroom yelling.

"Hey Adora! Adora come over here!"

"Catra? What's going on this early?"

She dashed around the sofa through the living room to find Adora rubbing her eyes and slinking out of bed. She heard her mumble already about waking ahead of schedule; it made her try not to roll her eyes. Of course she'd fixate on that right out of sleep. Before she let her get in another word Catra stopped in front of her. She grabbed Adora's hand and pressed it to her stomach. A lopsided grin was all she could muster for a reply. It took a few seconds, then Adora's eyes went wide. She saw her stare at the bump with such reverence Catra felt tears fall.

"You're...we're..."

"I know."

Adora pulled her down into a hug so tight Catra had to tap her to ease it.

"I'm gonna be a parent...Catra you're gonna be a parent! It's, it's real. It's actually happening."

"Told ya it'd work out."

Then Adora sucked in a huge breath and went rigid gawking at the ground.

"Oh my god I'm gonna be someone's mom. I dunno the first thing about babies! Catra who do we even ask-"

"Um, all of Bright Moon and our friends? They already know we're trying did'ja think they'd ditch us now?"

"No! No of course not. It's just this is actually happening. What if I mess it up already and something goes wrong o-or they come and don't like me- can babies think their mom is lame before they're born? What if-"

"Adora. Do you still want a baby?"

"Yes. More than anything. Sorry I know I'm being-"

"Hey. That's all you need; someone like you is gonna do fine. So stop or you'll give yourself a heart attack before the kid's even here."

Catra sat beside her and rubbed circles on her back. A sigh filled the room when Adora leaned her head on Catra's shoulder. She planted a kiss in her hair and wrapped an arm around her.

"...I wouldn't have my kid with someone I knew'd be shit at it. Or to me. You're you Adora, I didn't choose anyone else."

"I know I know. We're nothing like Sha-"

For an instant something stops Adora as if she's been gagged. Her eyes go wide again haunted by the sinister. She tries speaking only to make a strangled sound. They exchanged a look of understanding no one should have. A look of indescribable pain. Shared pain. Adora strains to start a third time when Catra finishes it.

"Nothing like Shadow Weaver. And we never will be. You can kill me if I do."

"I wouldn't go that far but...me too."

Wordlessly she let Adora slide against her and rest on her chest. Catra purred as she traced her claws along Adora's arm. Her tail coiled around Adora's waist when she bent to kiss her cheek. A hum is all she gets in reply; its more than enough.

"We're better people now, aren't we?" She asks.

"We'll always be better if we try. You're right I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Catra?"

She saw the eyes staring up fill with worry like it held the same value as water. Like it was something born in Adora's hands and for all their years since childhood it may well have been. Like it paired perfect with the tension stiffening her face. A face that deserved only to finally be soft forever. Catra whispered already knowing she wouldn't cure anything. It was too late of course; shame was her birthright too.

"I'm happy. I'm so happy right now I can't put it into words even for you. But that doesn't change what I've done. Who I was before this, before this version of us...back when we woke up everyday wondering if that'd be the last time."

"Catra no."

"I hurt you, Adora. I keep saying it because it's never going away ok? I hurt you, I hurt Sparkles and Arrow-Boy, Scorpia...Entrapta. The entire damn planet can bite me in the ass someday and I'd understand. The Horde destroyed. This being the happiest time of my life doesn't erase that."

"Catra-"

"What if I get frustrated and relapse? What if it's not even something I do it runs in families and I'm ruining them right now by being their mother because being a failure is just destiny?!"

"Enough."

The hands holding her head were firm as Adora moved to tangle them in her hair. She lowered her fully onto her lap; let herself purr with a breath in. Her eyes closed, tears fell. Adora's thumb wiped them away. It was so gentle Catra couldn't help a sob. She let everything pour out, let herself be wracked by hiccups; not one received judgement. She sat raw, bare in a place where dignity came innate not earned and knew herself still the invader. The conqueror. An aide to desolation.

The knotted feeling in her throat overpowered the new life under Adora's touch. Her stomach tingled at the caress; did their child want to scold her too?

In the end Adora's voice, that better half, guided her to reason.

"You're allowed to feel bad, remember? Like Perfuma said? I cant stop you no matter how much it hurts to hear. You're allowed to have bad days; but you're not allowed to give up. And you're not allowed to stop improving."

She let herself be pushed gently onto their bed; settled into the wholeness of their bodies resting together like they were made for nothing else. Adora is warm, her chest is safe, and her blonde hair falls across Catra better than a curtain. She purrs and purrs in her arms unable to stop, to entertain the thought for stopping. Hands wander the length of her then settle on her hips. Adora's thumb circles her fur until she wraps her tail along that forearm. They kiss and by god Catra will never get over the bliss it brings. How do you get over a free fall?

In silence she lets herself be tucked further against her; their legs entangle just as a feeling indescribable bursts from deep within. Something Catra knows she's understood for as long as she could remember that refuses to emerge in glimpses anymore. Only Adora can hope to know it in equal measure. She wants to wish that more than she's ever wanted at all. She swallows before meeting Adora's eyes. Adora has the briefest second for confusion when Catra's impulse strikes in her softest voice.

"It's like you know me better than I know myself."

Adora's face went wide then slid into the chuckle they know means contentment.

"Because you let me in."

And let her in she continued to do. For every day she grew bigger not a feasible moment did she spend alone. If she hungered the kitchen stocks ran dry, when she rested Bright Moon went still. Whenever she yowled or groaned there came Adora to massage her, Bow to shoo away prying eyes, Glimmer to order so many extra pillows for their room she thought there'd finally be something to suffocate her worse than herself.

She sat at the center of the castle gardens in the sun. Seven months had turned the seasons hot into mild into cold that'd kept her tucked in Adora's embrace, now turned again another leaf into Spring. Her back ached under a pressure fanning up her spine and centered on her swollen belly. Catra stifled a groan. Adora sat slumped over the table sound asleep opposite her. The gentle snores rumbling from her chest punctuated the bird calls like a bad note cutting a song. Catra laughed as soft as possible. Maybe their kid would pick it up from the get-go.

The ice in her drink clinked as she sipped. That's when she heard another step through the grass. She glanced at a hedge over her glass brim.

"Quit screwing around before someone else sees you."

"Ohhh Kitten you still don't know the meaning of fun do you?"

"Shhh. Adora's asleep. Thought you'd be quieter too. Must be sooo hard going soft."

A guard emerged from the shadows in white armor. The crescent standard of Bright Moon on the chest liquified then twisted into darkness. It bent and spread until a new figure emerged. Double Trouble shook out the unshaven half of their blond undercut. They stretched into a saunter across the paving stones.

Their high heels made that grating 'click clack' noise she'd once waited for in the Fright Zone. On reflex she glanced at Adora; she was still asleep, now drooling. The nasal pitch Double Trouble called a voice went lower even as their words dripped sass. Catra wished it'd never change, if you dragged the thought out of her.

"I'm surprised you've kept that tongue of yours looking like that. What a nasty little bite from an expecting mother."

"Oh really? What a tired act from a spy about to be washed out in peacetime. Hey don't sit there!"

"No darling you made the bed now lie in it for that one. This table is more than enough for a party."

They smirked at each other and knew there was nothing to forgive. Double Trouble gave Adora a once over look; their eyes lingered on Catra's stomach. They crossed their legs and arms with that flair Catra secretly imitated in the mirror. She went back to drinking.

"Seems like you two tied the knot finally. So sorry I had to miss that event, the stage called me. Color me not shocked to have seen this coming a mile away."

"...What's that mean?"

"It means darling there are countless women throughout the universe who'd kill for your position. Wife of She-Ra and now adding to this little litter you two are starting? Honey you're the most envied yet admired woman anywhere."

"Yeah well I'll believe it when I see it. That many people couldn't like me unless there was something to take."

"Dear, would you look at me?"

She did and found them filing their nails. Typical. They continued.

"Are we friends?"

A pause. Catra twiddled her thumbs. They looked her dead in the eyes now.

"Yeah."

"And her over there, what is she to you?"

"I...Adora is part of my everything."

"Why?"

"What'd you mean why?"

She stopped herself and startled; her eyes widened toward something distant, somewhere within. There from her memory stood Adora, begging her to turn rebel, Adora catching her before a drop to certain death, Adora laughing as they held hands like children again through dark tunnels. Adora overturning an empire millions strong to save her on nothing more than her heart. Adora crying always crying but never stopping.

Foolish and lovely Adora who promised her in infinite ways she was worth it.

Double Trouble grinned into a sound of contentment. They put their filer away and stared expectantly but not without care.

"I take it you know. Now tell me this and be honest- what about Glimmer and Bow? What about all these other princesses and their kingdoms? How do they treat you?"

"They're...they're kind to me. Every time we were off planet letting Adora do her thing, seeing people hold magic for the first time...putting up with my crap before this baby and...helping."

"Oh dearest me that sounds like dare I say, friendship!"' They gasped in mock surprise and laid a hand on their chest.

Catra shot them a scowl; it didn't last.

"Shut up before Adora gets up and misses another hour of sleep. Do you have any idea how she's been? I don't think she's even running on anything anymore like, everyday."

"Taking care of you I'd assume. Go on am I right?" Double Trouble asked (with a wiggle of their eyebrows of course) as if they were on the verge of a delicious secret. For all Catra knew they probably did and could eat those.

"Don't read my damn mind." She replied resting her chin on her palm.

"Darling, Catra, enough moping. Having to kick you in the rear like this when you of all people are making kittens is a bad look. Times have changed; you're not that hollow eyed puppet I knocked sense into back with the Horde. Be free, live a little, throw your kid wild birthday parties. And for the love of theatre get some better stylists for the two of you. I won't stand for a child who's moms aren't looking fabulous."

The whirlwind of gestures their hands made came to a stop. They stared yet again with that expectation bearing down on her. Catra read their eyes. It came from a good place; a place deep, deep past the snark. A veil of doubt that'd anchored in her fell away. Everyone had been kind no- was being kind. The cruelest thing they could do was throw a pregnant woman out to fend for herself and that was seven months too late. 'Or early. Weren't you found in a box? Weren't you out with the trash once time was up?'

She shuddered. No, it wasn't like that anymore, it had no right to be. No power over her; no power over her family. Catra grit her teeth and fangs flashed. She wouldn't let it. Without thinking a growl rumbled through her. Double Trouble clicked their tongue.

"Stress is extra bad for you right now Kitten. Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change."

At last they stood and made to leave; Catra almost reached to stop them, then thought better. What more was there to add? They'd seen her for an open book. Instead she swallowed hard. The voice that called out to them bled sincerity.

"Thank you."

"Pay me back by making good choices darling."

Two weeks later she wriggles her toes on a beach in Mystacor. The sky shifts from twilight to orange dusk. She just knows she's counted the exact same number of clouds the past hour. The air is so clean it's her only barrier from passing out; every breath jolts energy beneath her aches. Adora's footsteps are easy to read when her ears perk. She wraps her tail around her at the feel of them sitting together.

Adora hums before reaching to stroke her belly. The kiss on her cheek is simple yet her blood dances in excitement. Their fingers lace together on the sand. It grounds them. Catra knows Bow is carrying something by the slightest drag in his gait; Glimmer (if you asked her Catra still had the right to call her Sparkles, Queen shit and everything aside) followed behind. The four of them were a crowd that made anything happen.

As if on cue the baby kicked. Whatever the others blathered about faded from her mind into white noise. Beside her time stopped for Adora too; this kid was already making them predictable. The wonder Catra watched spread across her face stayed fresh as ever. Glimmer and Bow went silent. She felt their eyes trace over, heard their breath hitch. She smiled.

"Can I feel it this time?"

"Glimmer you always ask that. Save room for Uncle Bow, who just so happens to have something I know they'll love!"

"My Aunt helped." Glimmer added behind a hand though Bow could hear her.

"Yes she did but only the clothes; these were all me. See for yourselves."

He revealed a set of dolls from a sack. Each were handwoven and stitched so well if she didn't know Bow she'd guess a machine's handiwork. Her breath hitched. Their likenesses were posed under his movements as Glimmer clapped with a giggle. Adora gasped, covered her mouth while her eyes watered. Big ol' softie her Adora was; yet she fought her own tears. The doll with her face wore a grin between cockiness and charm. The smarmy, ruthless, torn glare of her past self morphed on the silk in her minds eye. Its fangs were bared and its sneer cruel.

Catra shuddered and recoiled until she nearly toppled onto the sand. Her bug eyed stare at the thing matched her heaving chest. Nausea that chased a prickling sensation washed over her like a wave; a force of nature. Several deep breaths gave her some composure but the world continued to blur in a haze. Her heartbeat thrummed in her throat and hearing faded and-

And then Adora filled her vision; Adora held her tight until finally she went still. She felt her cheek cupped and fingers massaging through her hair. Though it had regrown thick as a mane despite reaching her shoulders Adora's nails found her scalp. Of course they would; she purred into the embrace and bit her lip to swallow a cry.

'Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change.'

She blinked; the world popped back into place. They stared at her with faces on a scale from terror to worry; as if there were much difference. Bow's pleas about what was wrong stopped the instant her eyes dared linger on her doll again. He looked down and understood; away it went into the sack.

It wasn't the sentiment that upset her. He knew why. Words returned slow when he took her hand.

"I love it Bow, thanks, really; it's sweet of you. I'm sorry I...y'know. Need to keep working on myself."

"Hey don't apologize for that it's alright. I should be the one saying sorry; I didn't think it was still this bad for you."

"Whatever keeps bugging you we're here ok? No shaming, Horde Scum." Glimmer added with a smile that continued to forgive her more than Catra deserved in her opinion.

But if her own words couldn't be trusted, had she been shown forgiveness after all?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Adora, always there to cut to the point. She found her voice.

"When I saw myself it's like realizing my kid's gonna idolize me. They're gonna grow up having me everywhere if I'm really with them or not. They might even say they wanna be like their mom. Makes a feeling come over me...who I was tries to tell me they'll find nothing to be proud of."

"Oh Catra. We can't not let you feel that way but what matters is you've changed. You keep changing everyday; look at you now! You're committed to motherhood for one, you and Adora are amazing together, you helped me with so much paperwork- c'mon Bow tell her."

Glimmer nudged Bow until he nudged back; he gave Catra a stare that pierced her doubts. She'd rarely seen anyone who captured the sensation of light poking through clouds. He deserved to be called a sun. She swallowed hard again. God, this baby had her emotional.

"You've come a long way. We chose and keep choosing to help. I know it's hard but don't let whats in your head overpower that. We care. You're not gonna go back to being who you were. If you do, we'd stop you because we want to."

"But, everything with Angella-"

Fuck she mentioned it. Why? She just had to bring it up didn't she? 'Do you enjoy shooting yourself in the foot?...' A squeeze on her arm brought her mind to a halt. Damn, Adora may as well have a license in reading her mood. Glimmer sighed from a deep breath. She watched her face knit into something between grief and acceptance.

Everyone went silent, hinged themselves on whatever Glimmer said next. When she spoke her voice came thoughtful yet blunt.

"My mother is gone. Because of you or not she's not here and wallowing in anger and self pity isn't going to bring her back. I'm sure if she saw me still doing it she'd be upset. I've had the years I needed for that; the Catra in front of me isn't the same who pulled the switch."

Glimmer put a hand on Catra's shoulder and smiled when it was welcome. Their eyes met and she saw Bow nod. Glimmer continued in her queenly voice this time; gone were any hints she spent hours practicing, her mother's strength rang clear.

"Don't discredit our choice to forgive. Trust us to stay honest with you and care. Trust yourself like I know you can. Now, let's rate how cheesy my Aunt's baby clothes look!"

Catra's senses returned as if popping back into existence. Just like that they jumped into the next discussion, the next joke, the next tease. She sat with no one but herself to blame; no one but herself for guilt to feast on. Was that it? Was she still trapped in time? How simple it'd been to get an answer for once, yet beside it came more than she understood. The baby kicked again. She sighed and touched her stomach.

"Sorry you've got an overthinking Mama kid."

Adora nudged her. She turned to find that contagious smile to reel her in.

"Hey they're right y'know. Everything is gonna be ok, I promise."

Promises sacred as they were didn't lessen the pain. Her vision blurred at another stab of pain, another push as her entire body pulsed. Her lower back had it the worst; every ounce of pain coursed from that white hot center until Catra was sure she'd been reduced to jelly, if she could ever see straight again. Another scream tore her throat. Her body arched.

The hiss Adora shot out as Catra's claws dug into her hand registered faintly. She could hear Entrapta babbling some science jargon. Scorpia's frantic voice came beside Entrapta's assembly of rumbling tech no doubt worried over everything; that still didn't help an entire baby kicking out of her. Didn't anyone get that? Now wasn't the time for anything other than whatever got this tiny person out.

Catra screamed and shook and writhed and no matter how many times Entrapta said push it blurred together. She let her head loll sideways in exhaustion. Adora stared at her seized by panic that could do nothing but watch, and hated it. It scratched at the unfocused rage gathering around her like storm clouds. Whatever she said fell hazy on Catra's ears because not a moment behind Catra yelled,

"Next time you're doing this; when this is over I'm kicking your ass AdorAHHGGUUHHH!!!"

Several deep breaths and pushes later a wail robbed anything she could say. Every voice stopped, every head turned and every ear strained. It came again. A high pitched wail echoed through the room. A baby's first cry. There was no time then; no past nor future only the moments for each cry hurled into the world. She watched a shape writhe in Entrapta's arms at the foot of the bed. A flash of metal later and the umbilical cord was cut.

Everything remained a blur...then Entrapta handed her a squirming bundle. The baby rested against her easier than breathing. It was just, so right; one of the most right things Catra ever knew. Their fur matched her tan orange down to the slightly darker stripes. The hair is all Catra; she'd recognize that messy brown anywhere. It's when they blink at her for the first time, that's when Adora's blue eyes stare back.

Their hands are curled into fists and they fuss under her gaze. They blink once, twice, Catra finds herself counting everything. A purr deep enough to rattle them took her by surprise. At last her claws retracted from Adora's skin; she cradled their child between measured breaths. The instant she's released Adora doesn't waste a second coming closer.

They look at each other then their child then back again. Tears are the first thing they feel together followed by Adora's lopsided grin.

"Still wanna kick my ass?"

"Shut up and get in here dummy."

Catra's voice is hoarse but that doesn't lessen the spark in their kiss. Fingers tangle in Catra's sweaty hair and she's breathless when they pull away. There's a moment of silence until Entrapta gets the drop on them. Of course she does, she's Entrapta. They can spy the glint off her tape recorder.

"Just to confirm the baby is healthy at seven pounds eight ounces, a length of twenty centimeters, tail included, and a sex of male. Now the real question is have either of you chosen a name?"

The thick tendril of Entrapta's hair holding her recorder wiggles closer. Catra snarled on impulse and fought to not snap her teeth too.

"Don't hold that thing so close to Finn's face. The sound or whatever's gonna hurt his ears."

"Finn? You want to call him Finn? I thought you still weren't sure about any names." Adora said with the slightest confusion.

"Yeah I was but...I dunno it just feels right. Doesn't he look like a Finn? Hey Scorpia come over here! Does he or does he not look like a Finn?"

If it was possible for scorpions to move like they wanted to break the sound barrier without actually doing so, that was how Scorpia rushed over. Honestly Catra would laugh if she weren't cradling her son as if guarding her trove. Those enormous pincers are enough to shadow Finn's head as he attempts to swat one. Instead Adora gave him a finger to cling on. The tears streaking from Scorpia's eyes dripped waterfalls down her chin.

"Wildcat you're asking me what he looks like? Oh of course he's a Finn, look at that handsome little face and that tiny nose! And his hair! Catra that one is all you oh that stuff is gonna break so many combs I tell ya. He's even got his claws already; you guys have a mama's boy on your hands gosh. I remember when Flora hatched, ah good times..."

"Scorpia..."

"Huh? Oh sorry Wildcat yeah he's definitely a Finn! What'd ya think Adora? Entrapta?"

"Hmm...Baby Log Day, well day of birth. Catra has asked me if her newborn resembles a 'Finn'. As the only knowledge I'm aware of regarding this relates to fish, I will say yes. Fish and their fins are something cats enjoy and thus it is logical."

The line of stares fixed on her made Entrapta press her recorder.

"Addendum, it is also very cool."

"Adora?" Catra called.

Every stare turned toward her awaiting a verdict. Finn gurgled and squirmed when she met his stare. There fell a moment of purest silence.

"Yeah. Finn is a good name. We'll get him ready to propel through life."

There was an echoing 'thwack' when Catra smacked Adora's hair poof; Adora's giggling poured out even as Glimmer, Bow, and every Princess they knew finally appeared. Catra's bed was rushed by a crowd acting like they'd never seen an infant. Then again, no one had seen anyone of Catra's race all her life. Not that she'd asked around.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't come sooner! The meeting ran into overtime but we're here now. Where's the baby?"

Glimmer moved through the parting crowd as she spoke; her body radiated energy while her eyes scanned around. She and Bow must've shared the same mind because they were the first to study Finn. Their jaws dropped.

"So. Darned. Cute. Those ears." Bow said. His eyes practically sparkled with joy.

Glimmer looked at Catra, then Adora with a face that fought a hold on restraint.

"You guys can hold him. Just don't crowd his space." Catra said smiling.

Those were the words that released whatever collective breath everyone held. Finn was passed around the room leaving praise and awe in his wake. Everyone had their own opinions; so much so that the buzz of their chatting built Catra's headache right as Finn was finally returned. Frosta was yelling about how to shape a commemorative ice sculpture; Perfuma created several bouquets now burying Adora. Bow, Entrapta, and Scorpia stood putting their heads together discussing proper baby nutrition over the next year.

When she checked Finn his face grew red then wrinkled and that's when it hit. A full strength wail. The kind of cry to break noise into silence and validate Catra's agitation. Something resembling peace slid over the tension settling in the air. Adora managed to roll out of the flowers before looking at Catra. A nod in response is all she needs to wrangle everyone away. When the door closes for the last time only the three of them remain.

Finn continued crying though nowhere as intense. Catra took a deep breath, then she held the infant face down, tucked his arms across his chest, and finished by holding his bottom. She had to give herself credit; not a single mistake, Perfuma may as well have done it for her. The cries quieted immediately and ceased when she gently rocked him. In a minute he lay snuggled on her chest. Sleep made his eyes fight to stay open though he soon lost.

"He curls up just like you."

"Yeah. We'll see if he keeps the whole castle awake with your snoring." Catra replied chuckling.

Adora is beside her in seconds with that lopsided grin. The bed gets crowded bearing the three of them but it'll manage.

"I'm not an awful snorer ok; everyone's gonna survive when they sleep. They've done it this long."

"So you admit it's a problem."

"No! Anyway that's not important look at his chubby cheeks. That's all him."

"Babe, I think that's something every baby has. Did you forget all seven of Scorpia's kids, or even Bow and Glimmer's daughter?"

"Of course not but you're not looking at them. We made those. They're perfect and adorable as much as the rest of him."

Adora stroked Finn's hair and nestled against Catra's side. Together they yawned then laughed.

"Tired?"

"I gave birth Adora of course I am."

"Heh, sorry. Nighty night you two."

She's long learned Adora's penchant for sleeping hard enough to make the dead jealous. How exactly she can turn it on and off yet thrash restlessly, still waking up then tackling an entire day? After years Catra might never know and, some days, didn't care to anymore. It simply was. That was Adora, always rushing to do everything, solve every problem, take every blow. No matter how much their loved ones- no matter how many times Catra told her otherwise some piece stayed. It was like an infection molded into Adora's skin.

God did Catra still hate it. If Finn inherited that...

Her body ached worse than getting dragged by rope. She would know; Glimmer had been the one pulling after all. In those days of war and violence whipped into a storm this feeling was nothing new. Yet it was. Now there came a new tired setting on her bones. The tired from achieving something bigger than herself yet selfish in origin. Well, maybe the selfish part hadn't changed.

Maybe she really can be good not just do good. Adora began to snore as Catra let sleep claim her.

When Finn turns one year old Catra has settled into the race of parenthood. There's feeding time, nap time, diaper changing, the once a week checkups, and making a fool of herself so Finn laughs. One day passes with the funneled energy of several; no longer can she rise with the sun into a cage of rumination. Finn dictates her snapping awake on whims as random as the harried sleep itself.

She can't mope she just can't, he won't let her. He needs her and for the first time even beyond Adora, Catra accepts it. Not hesitating or doubting or anything else. Not the painstaking slip and climb over struggle after struggle until she and Adora were finally level. Finn right now is only a creature of needs; without her...she doesn't want to think further. There is finally someone for whom she can only give at the very beginning. The stress is worth it, it's not about her faults.

Perfuma notices of course. The way she walks ever eager into their meetings, even with eye-bags, stands far more confident than the hesitation that made her drag her feet. From the stares she gets now it's as if persecution and guilt lie only in her shadow. At least, that's what she thinks Perfuma means when one meeting she says,

"You look radiant Catra! Have you been keeping up with your personal letters?"

The morning light shines behind Perfuma making her hair resemble a glow. Combined with her chipper voice and pristine skincare (Seriously how did she keep up with seven kids at her heels?) Catra would be getting a headache right now. The old her would think Perfuma above her wielding such composure, such carefree grace. The her of the present instead replies weary but smiling.

"I have. For real this time too. No more skipping days."

"Oh lovely, I'm glad you're coming around. Self reflection and forgiveness can be so liberating; never forget you're allowing yourself space and patience. Walk with me."

She's heard those words enough to make her head spin, but now they land in her heart. A warmth seeps in the way she thinks Perfuma always intended. If she had to reflect now as they pass Scorpia's gardens, she wouldn't call messy hair, tired eyes, and what might be clothes from two days ago radiant. Perfuma probably wasn't being literal.

The trails of Perfuma's green shawl (Seemingly more fluttery today than usual; like butterfly wings if she had to compare) stop inside a wide room. Catra knows which pillow to sit on and in seconds Perfuma is across her. Their eyes meet then close before performing a basic breathing exercise. One breath in and Catra gathers her worries, one pause, on the exhale her body relaxes.

Her eyes open and find Perfuma doing the same. The ear to ear smile on her face still unnerves Catra like a pinprick; it's strange to be so happy in a world built on entropy. Catra's allowed that hesitation, right? No she's being an idiot again; she's seen Perfuma a mess, back when Scorpia and all her people contorted under Horde Prime's marching orders, under the chips once burrowed in their flesh.

Regardless she'd never given up then. She hadn't been Catra running away the minute she projected doubt on Adora. She shook her head and sighed. This was getting nowhere. Of course for her part Perfuma sat in silence, waiting for as much time as Catra needed. She smiled shyly at that.

"Sorry got lost in reflecting I guess."

"It's alright Catra that's what we're here for. Do you want to share your thoughts?"

"I think you already know after this long." Catra licked her lips nervously.

"I don't mind listening."

A long pause. She read nothing but openness in Perfuma's eyes.

"You know I've said before I was jealous of you, unnerved even. How could anyone stay so happy when the world hurts? Well now I think I understand. There's no point in dwelling on my pain. Sure I can feel it, acknowledge it, but it'll pass again. Letting it control me when it's something I'll carry forever is exhausting. All I've done then is hurt myself when for once no one else wants to. That's what Finn's made me realize."

She finished with a sigh and slackened shoulders; a woman spent at last of a pointless barrier. Isolation was no longer a badge of honor; it never had been. Perfuma wore genuine surprise like she'd heard something profound, not Catra stating the obvious. When Perfuma next spoke the words poured out afraid to stop. Afraid, Catra senses, that Catra will bolt away in embarrassment.

"I'm proud of you that's the most you've shared all at once yet. And it sounds like it truly means self-love. You're allowing vulnerability and have accepted a truth. We are all works in progress."

"Thanks. I guess I have." The tears flowing down Catra's face make her voice wobble.

"Would you like a hug?"

With a nod Catra opened her arms and wept into Perfuma's dress; she wept the choked yet earnest sobs of a child. She felt a hand pat her hair.

"What happened when you were a child, it's not your fault."

There comes a pause where Catra stiffens then pulls back but not away. Her watery eyes glisten under the light while the rest of her trembles. Her lips quiver wanting to fight a new sob on instinct; it makes her teeth grit. None of it is hostile, Catra stares at Perfuma who again brings down the axe on the final barrier tainting her heart. Despite herself the words are out; Shadow Weaver installed that defense mechanism in her, denial.

"It is...it is."

"It's not your fault."

"But it is! I deserved it because I couldn't fight back!"

"It's not your fault."

"It...I...did."

Catra's face scrunched under the weight of the lie. She gets a solemn head shake in response. The sick sensation in her chest crumbles and her body feels no stronger than jelly. This time she clings back in Perfuma's embrace. She wails. Perfuma's reassurance pierces the scared girl inside gentle as sunshine.

"It's not your fault."

When the flood within her passes they mulled over tea. The silence now settled almost as comfortable as being with Adora. If Catra thought harder on it though, maybe silences themselves didn't need Adora to be good. Maybe the truth is Adora isn't the only bond to believe in; the others have waited on Catra long enough. She feels a pang of guilt at that. It flickers then dies when she hears the question,

"How are you and Finn? You mentioned him earlier."

"Kinda speaks for itself just looking at me y'think? But uh, sorry. It's been great; busy every second and sometimes I wanna tear my hair out but...in the end I really do like being a mom. It's not just about loving Finn and having him with Adora either. It's also like...I dunno..."

"Like starting over; a second chance?"

"Yeah...yeah I think it is." Catra smiled.

"The advice I can give for that is don't forget you're still guiding him. Parenting with compassion and trust will help you both, but he must find himself and make his choices."

She had nothing to add other than slight alarm. Then the weight behind the words settled, planted seeds in her thoughts. She stared out the window drinking her tea; her mind drifted and for once the peace of it wasn't strange.

When Finn is two years old he shivers in her arms. The storm sent another sheet of rain beating against the castle. Grey covers the window glass and another lightening flash dimly illuminates the room. In the span of a blink it's gone; Finn mewled stuffing part of Catra's shirt in his mouth. Her hand ran through his hair. That seemed to relax his hold.

He looked up at her with Adora's wide blue eyes and for an instant Catra remembers being six, Adora's blanket her only comfort on nights like this.

"It's a thunderstorm Finn. I know it sounds scary but it'll pass ok? It always has before. You were too little to remember."

"Where's Mommy?"

She hears the fear getting ahold of him; she answers a touch too fast. It takes everything in her hoping he didn't notice.

"With Auntie Glimmer remember? They're meeting about adult stuff. We have to wait."

"I want her here."

"I know Finn, I know. She's coming. You're ok with me. Nothing bad will happen. Mommy's coming soon."

He nodded and though he whimpered he concentrated on Catra alone. At the next roar of thunder however he stiffened with his tail gone frizzy. The door opened bringing a stripe of light and Adora's unmistakable silhouette. Immediately Finn sprang out of Catra's arms to tackle Adora's legs. Catra hears her gasp then laugh softly as she kneels.

"Mommy! Be She-Ra!"

"Hey there to you too Finn. Why do you want She-Ra out?"

"Make bad sounds go away."

"It's the weather, I don't control that. Weren't you safe with Mama? Look she's waiting for us and I bet she stayed the whole time."

"But I want Mama and Mommy..."

Catra left bed and kneeled beside Adora. She ruffled Finn's hair; his tears were gone with a swipe of her thumb. Adora held his hands smiling while Catra went on.

"It's ok to be scared. We won't leave you not ever."

"Even when one of us isn't here with you, remember we love you. Think real hard about us when you're scared and all the bad stuff will go away."

Finn sniffled, swallowed, fumbled to speak those words they knew were sacred.

"You promise?"

"Yes." They reply together.

More thunder cracks the air signaling another swell of hissing rain. She watched as he froze squeezing his eyes shut. His hands balled into fists; he didn't flinch or cry when the storm gentled again. Now he stood trembling but no less brave. The warmth spreading through Catra was mirrored in the indescribable pride on Adora's face. She reached for her hand and it was held.

"Like that?" Finn asked, staring at them as if everything hinges on this moment.

"Just like that."

Catra kisses his forehead; it's no time at all until they hug him close. His heartbeat calms under their embrace and she purrs; it's always as hard as the day he was born. The purr she feels back widens her eyes then-

"Mama why're you crying?"

"She's happy you did it, right Catra?"

"Yeah...I'm happy Finn."

She shivers at Adora's kiss on her cheek. The touch of her breath tickling when she whispers almost makes Catra purr, for a reason neither can say aloud. She wraps her tail around Adora's wrist and listens.

"I'll get him to bed ok. Won't be long."

Catra mumbles her reply against her lips,

"I know."

They kiss and though it's a second before Adora pulls away, Catra knows peace.

At three years old Finn runs through the halls whooping and hollering. The stuffed bear glides through the air in his grasp. She knows Mr. Snuggles will need a wash when the day's done. Cupping her hands around her mouth she gently calls after.

"Don't run so fast you'll trip. Watch where you're going."

"Yeah Mama I know!"

Of course the thud she expected comes not an instant later. Even if he landed on carpet her blood pounds in panic; she sprints light on her feet toward his side. No second is wasted righting him from laying flat on his belly. She checks his arms, his legs, his face, the back of his head is fine too. He holds his wrist looking down ashamed.

"My head hurts."

"It's alright we'll get some medicine before seeing Mommy. Next time watch out ok? I might not have been here to help."

He nodded but still won't meet her eyes. Her expression falls. She sits with her hand giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; her tail twitched nervously. Finn is silent. Far more than if he acted up or felt too embarrassed. The air itself feels heavier as if to breathe means starting a count down before down becomes up and left is right. Her voice shakes ever so slightly. Was this because of her?

"Finn? What's wrong? Does it hurt real bad?"

"Auncle Dee Tee told me something that made me feel funny. Flora and Angella said boys get hurt a lot when they play. B-But I like girl games with them too! When I fell I remembered what Auncle Dee Tee said."

"That's just silly there aren't 'boy' and 'girl' games. Just games. What'd Auncle say?"

"They said that too. They said nobody has to be a girl or boy if they don't want to. They said a big word like 'nuhncun-foming' I think."

She hears footsteps round the corner, a walk she could pick out anywhere. Adora stops then assesses; she wastes no time coming to them. Immediately her face is knit in worry and concentration. Catra knows that look better than herself. The look of a soldier, of years honed as a commanding officer, the look her fantasies once replicated dreaming of their conquest of Etheria...it's never appeared serene as it does now.

It reminds her not for the last time she's not alone.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt Finn? I knew I heard something bump on my way over."

"He tripped and fell but it's not serious. I checked already. He just has a headache."

"Good. C'mon let's go get medi-"

"Adora wait. He had something important he was saying. Finn? Can you tell Mommy what you told me?"

His expression finally lights up again; courage gathered when he stands straighter and stares at them firm.

"When I fell I remembered what Auncle told me. They said some people don't feel like they're just a boy or girl. My girl friends said boys fall a lot playing; I like their girl stuff where we don't fall a lot too! I wanna...I wanna be like Auncle. Auncle sounds like me."

They sat and the silence turned to awe. They glanced at one another then at Finn, who stood in utmost seriousness. Double Trouble's words floated to the surface of Catra's memories. She had to step outside her own head right? Well this time the world did it well enough for her. Adora as usual is the first to make a move.

"What do you want us to call you?"

"I'm Finn! I don't wanna be a boy or a girl I wanna be both! I wanna do everything I like as me. Can I be 'nunhcuhnfoming' too?"

To their surprise they chuckle as Finn looks on, conviction dropping into worry. Catra grinned and pulled Finn into a hug.

"You can be whatever you want kid including nonconforming. We're not gonna say no to anything like that."

"Do you want us to still call you 'He'?" Adora said in a tone that announces she's not worrying herself sick for once.

"Nuh uh! Auncle uses 'They'."

"Then that's what we'll use too. Thanks for telling us Finn."

Finn, they, beam from ear to ear. They picked up and dusted off Mr. Snuggles holding him close. They purr echoing through the hall; by instinct Catra joins in while Adora plants kisses all over Finn's cheeks.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"A little..."

"Let's go make it better then."

Finn is four when their troublemaking streak starts to shine. They let Adora chase them through the back gardens at a sprint. It's an unspoken dare to crown who's faster and watching from the sidelines, Catra doesn't need to guess it's Finn. Like what she imagined of any child of hers Finn scampers up a tree next. They wave a toy and blow a raspberry down at Adora who's panting for dear life. Her poor fool never stood a chance.

Adora stands hunched over, her finger raised to call a time out. She's still gathering her breath when Catra hears her force out words as she walks toward them both.

"Ok give Mommy a break for...five minutes...or forever. Ugh."

"You're too slow so I win!"

They watch as Finn sticks their tongue out again. Catra kneels to pat Adora's shoulder. She plants a kiss in her hair and grins.

"Hate to say it but I told you they'd beat you. Give it up Adora."

"I'll never...understand...how you two...do it...so unfair."

"Only She-Ra can win a race with me Mommy. If you're She-Ra it's really hard to keep up."

Still wheezing Adora glanced at Catra in defeat. A shrug is all she gets in response. Finn sits on a branch above them swinging their legs, the embodiment of confidence. Then they do something that throws off even Catra; they hang from their perch by the tail. Upside down Finn pays no heed to their gaping Mama and instead teases Adora with another raspberry. She falls on her ass yelping.

A choked giggle left Catra before rising to laughter. By the time she's full on snorting she rolls in the grass; upside down Adora scowls at them both but it's all in fun. The way she sees her blush makes her nerves go fluttery. She doesn't need to be told when their eyes meet and Catra knows it's mutual. Before anything can come of it Finn lands on the ground effortlessly.

She watches them tug Adora's sleeve; the fake modesty and flattering lilt they're piling on too thick gives them away. The fact that they can hold the performance this well is far more a Catra thing than Adora. She feels hesitant pride bubble within her. Could she have that knowing where it came from?

"Mommy my toy got stuck up there, can She-Ra get it? Because she's faster and stuff."

"Finn I can't keep transforming all week."

"Pleeease? It's the last day today; you said I could ask sometimes."

"Damnni-uh I mean I remember. Fine but only because you asked nicely."

Catra doesn't need to be an Entrapta-level genius to hear the unspoken, 'And because I totally lost too.' Finn definitely hears it by the satisfaction in their grin. With a resigned sigh Adora straightened and stretched out a hand. From the bottom of her lungs she bellowed,

"For the Honor of Greyskull!"

A blinding light engulfed Adora from the outline of a golden sword. Catra still had no idea where it always came from. It was of course magic however; you never had to question that kind of thing. She figured that was why it felt comforting, familiar, compared to hard numbers. Most of all, she muses as the light dims, magic embodies everything Adora has been long before the sword.

The light leaves dissolving into rainbow trails. They outline She-Ra's massive form towering at eight feet. Her arms are almost as thick as the tree branches themselves when she begins to climb. Finn watched with their jaw hanging and eyes wide. Their fists rest against their teeth as if every transformation will be the last each time; the anticipation mixed with joy is almost palpable when it infects Catra.

She nudges them while Adora gets tangled in leaves. Finn's rapture breaks and they flash her a knowing smile.

"You love being sneaky huh?"

"She-Ra is cool!"

They look up together and find Adora fumbling not to fall. Though She-Ra carries a noble poise Adora is very much the one nervously sweating. Catra grinned.

"She's very cool."

Adora successfully lands without a scratch; the toy rocket is the size of a river stone in She-Ra's large hand. In an instant it's back to scale when She-Ra is dismissed, a gold afterglow outlining Adora. It hits Catra then that Finn has grown at level with Adora's waist. When did that happen over the years?

"One missing toy rescued from an evil tree. It won't be eating any more any time soon."

"Thanks Mommy. No more She-Ra for a little bit."

"Right. Mommy needs breaks just like She-Ra does too."

Catra takes Adora's hand and wraps her tail around her. Her purr is soft though outmatched by the gentle kiss she gives her wife. She glanced at Finn who waits expectantly; the toy is already forgotten in favor of another game. Catra chuckles.

"Ok Finn you've had enough of bossing Mommy. This time I'll race you home."

"Loser has to give up dessert!"

"Sure kid. Ready set go!"

Like a bullet Catra sprints down the low hill; she barely hears Finn's call above the wind. In seconds they're right behind and she finds herself laughing carefree into the dusk.

Finn is five when their fur becomes their first taste of responsibility. Their tail is a mess of frizz most mornings; their thick hair resembles a mop fighting against every tame comb they own. Catra does her best to guide them, but she hasn't been five in twenty years. The memories since remain dark and pressed under the claws of greater horrors. Had she ever had time to brush herself seriously then? Not a relevant question; this isn't the time for self grieving.

Finn fusses, tries again, then scowls. They look at her with a plea in their eyes. Catra blinks then finds them slumping shoulders and lips quivering. Their hair seems messier than before for every wrong stroke. It takes her longer than she'd like to notice the budding tears.

"Hey it's ok we'll keep trying. It's hard at first but you can do it."

"Bet it's easy for you Mama."

"Why's that?"

"Because you never get messy. Your hair is always pretty."

Catra beckons and they come within her reach. She wipes their tears, smoothes their tangles best she can. They stare into her eyes with that intensity only they can muster.

"I used to be worse than you. When I was your age I had no one helping me."

"Not even Mommy?"

Catra laughed quiet and gentle, always gentle.

"She tried but she was as small as you. And we know Mommy doesn't look the same; she didn't know how. Do you know how old I was when I learned to keep my hair pretty? Really got good at it?"

Finn shook their head. She could sense the sadness give way to curiosity, to a rising hope.

"I was already a grown up. Wayyy bigger than you y'know? If it took me so long there's no rush. You keep trying until it works ok."

"Ok..."

"Let's start over. Just watch me first."

Time passes in a haze enough for her to learn Finn took after her old temper; step by patient step her hands once drenched in the blood of another life calm them to retry. They break for lunch and laugh together, their mistakes now harmless behind them. This, Catra has learned, is completion.

Princess Prom makes everyone nervous and excited equally. She watches Finn, taller than most other ten year olds, adjust their tie. She smiles remembering how many they'd tried on that morning without complaint. How when the right one came along they'd strutted prideful for her and Adora's opinion. They fidget flexing their hand and rocking on their heels. She can't blame them; the announcer's droning speech packs more formality than Catra thought was possible.

Put simply, it's boring, and they both fight a yawn. Adora doesn't notice them tap their feet together, one leading the other following, until another six minutes that pass like hours. She shushes them but when another minute crawls by she joins in. The three of them form a jagged rhythm while holding back giggles.

When the solemnity is done away with and the dance floor opens they lose Finn to their friends. She sends them off with a cheek kiss and Adora's blessing to have fun, then they're alone. They whisk themselves to the snack bar; she watches Adora gorge on tiny food like she's taken Entrapta's appetite for herself. Smirking as she leans against the table she knows Adora can feel her gaze.

"Alright Princess charge your battery any more and I'll dance by myself."

"Noa faish wahit fo me!" Adora forced out through a mouthful.

"Hey easy there. What's that translate to?"

Adora swallows hard and snorts at her.

"I said no fair wait for me. Now you're getting payback."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."

Before she can register it a cupcake is smashed into her mouth. She can hear Adora laughing even when Catra serves one back in retaliation. By the time they've wasted three cupcakes they don't hear Scorpia saunter over. They nearly tumble face first into her serving tray.

"Whoa slow down guys! Party just started to get so worked up. You two sure love having fun."

"Sorry Scorpia didn't see you there. Catra wants to hurry and dance; I want to savor what Entrapta had prepared tonight."

Catra stuck out her tongue and laughed when Adora elbowed her side in jest. When they look over Scorpia has forgone food entirely. She stares at them, her eyes glistening from would be tears.

"You guys are just adorable did you know that?"

"You remind us all the time." Catra replied and wrapped an arm around Adora.

"Actually uh, on second thought, I've got icing down my dress. Excuse me ladies."

Adora gives her a peck of a kiss before disappearing. Catra watched her go spellbound by the soft lights cast on everyone. Adora's outline is dreamlike, Catra can hear her breath hitch. Then far too suddenly she's gone. It's funny, she no longer feels the pain that once tore through her fast as lightening. Maybe parting no longer means goodbye. She knows she always knew.

"Y'know Wildcat I gotta say I've never seen you look this happy. Well happier than that time in the Crimson Wastes. Oh or when Finn was born. It's nice."

"Heh. We're in the same boat then. I can't even tell when it started."

"Wanna know how I can tell this time?"

The intensity in Scorpia's tone made Catra straighten. She stopped trying to eat another cupcake and met her gaze.

"It's the eyes. They're so clear these days. They're empty, not in a bad way. Like...it's like you can take on anything. You've got resolve but it's not angry."

"Calm?"

"Yeah. Calm and whole. That's some strength even I don't think I have yet. Your eyes can see through anything."

"Geez way to praise a girl. I think I get it though. Adora's been saying something similar. Glimmer, Bow, Perfuma...everyone brings it up somehow. They act like I'm supposed to know just haven't told them." Catra smiles around a bite of her snack. It was achingly sweet yet she closed her eyes and tasted the love put in.

"Of course they see it too. Every truly strong person is kind."

Catra's eyes widen. For a moment she moves as if to speak then instead smiles, content. Her heart feels light as a feather.

She spots Adora returning through the crowd. Everyone parts reverently for the savior of the galaxy; to Catra it's another homecoming. They don't need the titles or praise; at last having each other, having themselves, is enough.

Scorpia takes her leave just as Adora emerges. The teasing look she wore before is replaced by excitement; the kind that simply is because it can be. Without prompting she offered Catra her hand. She's seen this scene countless times in as many settings. She takes it.

"Ready for that dance I owe you?"

It happens in an instant; Catra reads her eyes. They're calm, resolved, kind. Her reflection stares back within their clarity. She smiles. She hopes Finn will have those eyes someday.

"Always am."

#my writing #spop #catradora #glimbow #scorfuma #finn spop

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