Work Text:
Carol is a scaredy cat, and that’s a fact. The mighty and brave Captain Marvel, former test pilot and now protector of the whole universe, is actually just a soft and scaredy cat, and that cat is going to sit on king Valkyrie’s lap even if this is the last fanfiction Kamala will write.
Brunnhilde’s fingers runs gently through Carol's soft hair and, even though the king can't see her face, she knows her captain is starting to unwind. She can see her shoulders going down, the back not perfectly straight anymore, and her head is gently leaning forward.
<< Take a deep breath...there. >>
Wait, no. No angst. Kamala wants to write some hurt/comfort, yes, because: who doesn’t like that? But she’ll go heavy on the comfort. Fluff, and domestic fluff, gentleness and softness.
A fist kiss? Why not.
Carol closes her eyes feeling sleepy. She would gladly lie on the bed, or even in Brunnhilde's lap, and sleep, but she doesn't want that moment to end, so she stays still and doesn't say a word. She doesn't even remember when was the last time someone cuddled with her.
<< You never let it grow much. >>
The captain smiles as the king starts to slowly braid her hair: she never liked it long, and she was quite glad when she had to cut it to join the air force.
<< Shame...you're so beautiful. >>
Kamala reads the sentence again: ‘you’re so beautiful’ sounds…simple. The king really strikes her as someone who’d just give people honest and meaningful compliments, especially to Carol. Probably only to her. And Carol probably isn’t really used to receive them… or is she? Her husband, even if their marriage is fake, must’ve told her something like that. ‘You’re beautiful’, ‘I love you’, ‘Today your hair looks amazing’… Her ammi is always so happy when abbu tells her something nice, even if she pretends it’s silly and she doesn’t need to hear that.
Carol, however, never spent much time with her husband, she told that herself: she was often all alone in her spaceship. Well, there was Goose with her, but it’s not the same.
What is it like to receive a compliment after so many years spend alone? How does it feel like, especially if you’re someone who thinks you’re never enough?
Carol holds her breath and her heart does a flip in her chest. It’s ecstatic, exhilarating. It hurts, somehow.
Brunnhilde stops. << Marv? Is everything all right? >>
<< So-sorry, I’m- >>
<< What is it? >> the king chuckles << you don’t believe me? >>
<< No, I- yes, I mean- >>
Brunnhilde carefully disentangles her fingers from the captain’s hair and cups her face with both of her hands. << What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop? >> she asks, slowly brushing Carol’s cheeks with her thumbs.
Carol would turn away. Totally. Or lower her gaze. That woman isn’t used to physical touch, or emotions. Not even to gentleness, probably, but king Valkyrie would be understanding and patient. Kamala doesn’t really know her, but the king really looks like someone who’s really into advocating for how much consent is important. Consent is sexy, ‘no’ doesn’t mean ‘convince me’, ‘no’ means ‘no’.
<< Marv? >>
<< Sorry, I- >> she gulps. Her face feels warm gently held in Brunnhilde’s hands, even though Carol can feel the cold metal rings pressing on her cheeks.
And now? Should they kiss? Well, yes, but does that feel right? Kamala brings her own hands to cup her face and tries to imagine. She slowly caresses her own cheeks, her hair, and focuses on what she feels.
Carol raises her head taking a deep breath. She doesn’t remember when was the last time she kissed someone /
Someone? Let’s face that: Captain Marvel probably never kissed a boy, not even in a dream.
/ last time she kissed a girl. The king leans over, gently holding Carol’s face and pressing her soft lips on hers.
No, the king would never. Consent. She would be so patient with her, and she would wait.
The king smiles softly, leaning over to kiss the captain’s forehead, and Carol realises she is holding her breath. The kiss is soft, and warm. It ends quickly, but the captain can feel her forehead burning where, just a moment ago, Brunnhilde’s soft lips kissed her.
The captain doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Brunnhilde softly presses her lips on her cheek, gently holding her chin with her fingers, then she kisses her jaw , slow and gentle. The two women rest their foreheads together, breathing slowly and enjoying the intimacy of that quiet moment.
Aww, that’s so romantic. Maybe too romantic? Carol would panic, or she would…what would she do? Something stupid, for sure, and clumsy, and-
The king smiles softly, leaning over to kiss the captain’s forehead, and Carol realises she is holding her breath. Brunnhilde kisses Carol’s cheek, gently holding her chin with her fingers, then her jaw, slow and gentle.
Carol breathes in and moves her head. Her hands reach for the king’s face, fingertips brushes Brunnhilde’s cheeks, and shaky fingers run through the king’s long hair as the two women kiss. It’s just lips pressing against lips, messy and harsh, and it ends with them falling inelegantly on the bed.
Carol tries to lift herself so as not to weight over Brunnhilde, who stops her by holding her hips as she laughs softly. << It’s okay, >> she assures. << Stay. >>
<< Sorry, that was- >>
<< It’s okay, Marv, >> the king’s hands slowly caress the body on top of hers. << Stay here. We can kiss, if you want to. Or… not. >>
And maybe that’s a story for another time.
Carol leans down, carefully this time, and presses her lips on Brunnhilde’s. This kiss is slow and clumsy. Golden locks fall over Carol’s face, and the king brushes them back with her hands, tangling her fingers with wavy strands to gently deepen the kiss.