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hetaherr · 8 months

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playing video games with them | anemo boys <3

: kazuha, xiao, venti, wanderer

:mostly crack, a little suggestive but no warnings

well anyway this is another reupload!! added kuni’s part also got lazy to proof read its just a headcanon anyway!!! i play wayy to much video games and id love to share my hobbies with these sweet babies <3

kazuha

i think this baby is a really chill gamer, he enjoys the cozy aspect of video games. thats why i think games like minecraft, stardew valley, animal crossing and the sims!! cozy video game dates are a norm for you guys when its too hot outside or too rainy.

imagine playing stardew valley with him, curled up under the covers with your MATCHING SWITCH CONSOLES. you guys working through the first few years of the game as little farm people doing little farm things. he’d even find some helpful guides online so you guys can maximise your finances in the game. honestly i can see how he gets a little petty at the fact that you MARRIED some npc in the game and he had to watch the whole cutscene while you joked around that he hadn’t given you enough attention and this was all his fault. now kazuha hates that particular npc, and he’s definitely pouting the whole night. give him lots of smooches, tell him that no video game code can replace your pookie wookie baby boy <3

but there, of course are other ways you can make up for it, like asking him to marry you- in animal crossing duh!! he’d take this whole thing very seriously obviously, its a wedding silly. he’d prepare a little wedding venue in his world by the beach, even going as far to design a cute little tux. it’s adorable, also don’t think for a second that he wouldn’t give you a kiss (giggling after) when the wedding officiant says you may now kiss. i also can picture kazuha buying you a promise ring irl , with a maple leaf engraved onto it. yes it was a animal crossing wedding, but it was YOUR WEDDING non the less.

another thing i can imagine is while you were playing the sims kazuha would 100% ask to create a little family with you. he’d even help to go “shopping” online for CC that would fit your characters or homes. kazuha DIES A LITTLE inside as you carefully curate each of the characters, spending hours deciding on the perfect outfits, hairs and personalities. coming up with mini fantasy stories about the mini yous and giggling along with him when they get a little too absurd. your cute family consists of you, kazuha and a little white cat. kazuha likes watching you get a little flustered whenever his character flirts with yours, sending a romantic haiku your way. not to mention the first time your character’s woohoo’ed he teasingly said:

“its honestly a shame that they’re the only ones that get to woohoo you know?”

anyway kazuha is 100% down to try as many games as he can with you, playing games with him is 10 bells out of 10 bells hehe

xiao

gamer xiao… yea he kinda scares me. xiao plays shooter games for sure, like obviously he’s had an eboy valorant phase but lets skip past that for now. its definitely more than normal to hear him grumbling how “dogshit” some of his teammates are. he’s definitely muted from chat on several games, also banned from league most of the time from being toxic in the chats.

playing competitive games with xiao is definitely an experience, and it definitely does not feel like the stereotypical pocket sage and hyper-carry jett. so please proceed with caution. the first time you and him played together, he may have gotten a little TOO HEATED and may have cussed you out on accident forgetting it was his loving, doting and caring partner who just wanted to participate in one of his hobbies. xiao doesn’t mean to get angry at you, please bare with him when the words “how is this person so fucking bad, how are they SO USELESS JUST GET OFF THE GAME DUDE” slip out. and oh boy… xiao immediately regrets his words, he feels so bad. he was actually overjoyed when you asked to play with him, even if he doesn’t actually show it, now he definitely assumes that you won’t ever want to play games with him EVER, hell maybe you want to break up. he’s spiralling. he apologises so much and he’s so awkward and so fidgety. its hard to stay mad at him, when he’s like this you have to admit he’s a little cutie. the next few days he’s definitely cautious and on edge around you, he finds it weird that you let go of the situation so easily and just moved on. he cant believe he let such vulgar words be thrown towards you. so after a conversation about his behaviour, you both decide maybe its best you just be an observer. you’re more than happy to straddle him, chin on his shoulder when he plays at his pc. and xiao LOVES IT, there is honestly nothing more comforting than you give him a little kiss when he starts to get a little too tense. occasionally when you face the screen and watch his games, he gets so nervous to play well. and xiao absolutely DIES when you compliment his abilities. bro needs the praise please, in that moment he thinks you’re so sexy and you have such a caring soul and his ears are tinted so red. don’t tease him though, he won’t be able to play the game properly.

another thing xiao is so weirdly good at is arcade games. i can picture arcade dates and xiao is just godly at them, claw machines, those basketball ones, car racing- you name it sweetheart and he’s earning those tickets like he needs to feed his 20 kids as a single dad. xiao acts so nonchalant about it, shrugging his shoulders as if this talent of his isn’t a big deal, but inside he’s so proud that he’s managed to get you that plushie he knows you’d been eyeing the whole day. he loves the way you grip onto his biceps pulling him to another machine to test his abilities, he may grumble about you overreacting but he’s so happy just to see you smile. and having you cheer him on the side is such an added bonus, you’re such a cute cheerleader. anyway i rate xiao a “please dont scold me baby im trying my best” out of “FUCK YOU FUCKING SUCK”

venti

horror games. literally venti HATES THEM but he cant get enough of it. playing phasmophobia would be so incredibly fun, but also a total shitshow. like im talking him making you do all the work while he intentionally provokes the ghost. at the same time he’s too scared to do anything so, he’s always really close to you. so if anything ever happens, you’d be a total idiot to think he’d try to help you, venti would be the first one out the door and running away. venti is also so horrendously LOUD, literally half the time instead of getting spooked by the game, your having a heart attack inducing jump scare from his random screaming. don’t even get me started on roblox horror games, every week there’s some new game he discovered on tiktok, and you are playing it with him, you have to.

another game venti loves to play is sims, but he’s about 100 times more chaotic compared to kazuha. he loves those ridiculous challenges and he wants to have like 10 babies with you, and then proceeds to cry when they are taken away from the sims version of cps. for some reason he has all the packs and likes to screw around with everything. he makes silly little bets with you in any game, for example in the sims he’d bet with you whether your 23rd child is going to be a boy or girl, most bets are harmless like a kiss or cuddles, unless he’s in the mood.

speaking of intimacy, venti needs to be holding you while playing games. arms linked, lying on your lap or you in his, honestly you just let him because he’s so cheeky about it anyway. venti also loves playing music related games with you, duh!! karaoke, guess the song, finish the lyric. ANYTHING!! whether you can sing or not, he just loves to hear your voice, definitely teases you if you cant though hehe. karaoke is so fun, if your shy he definitely eases you into letting lose and breaking out of your comfort zone, duetting with you is something he loves because music is his passion and honestly it hits so close to home for him. you’d often find him squeezing your hand as a form of encouragement.

im rating venti a solid 8 red bulls out of “i’ve already had 15”.

wanderer

this little emo baby is 100% only ever playing single player games, things that are extremely grindy and super lore heavy (bro is on subreddits looking at game theories and conspiracies, he would love to talk to you about them if you ever asked)!! im talking about bloodborne, doom, assassin’s creed and dark souls. he hates online multiplayer games because he doesn’t want to interact with “idiots” as he’s mentioned numerous times. so unfortunately its not often that you have a chance to play any type of multiplayer games with him.

however when it comes to his gaming sessions, he’d subtly invite you to come watch him because you’re like his own little streaming audience, and he loves it. the way you comment about how cool his character looks, or ask questions about gameplay mechanics. he loves how you involve yourself in his hobbies, it turns him to mush. he also loves how you play with his hair while peeking over his shoulder to look at the tv screen as he taps away at the controller. sometimes when the game gets a little boring he notices how your breath bounces off his neck, needless to say, those nights end up a bit more differently than how you originally imagined.

also if your ever interested in the game, kuni would “hesitantly” offer you to play on a new save file. but he’s actually elated that you’re going to try his FAVOURITE video game ever. you take your place in his lap as he explains to you the basics, not many would notice but you can ever so slightly hear the excitement in his voice. kuni complains about you being so lost but he’s so careful with explaining certain things, he’s also so patient as you take hours designing your character, well he’s okay being patient since its you. kuni absolutely DISSOLVES when facing a difficult boss, puzzle or obstacle, you kinda go into a slump against his chest and beg him to help you get past it. he snickers that your so weak, but somehow he manages to get through so swiftly- i guess he needs to show off a little to you. he also may complain a lot but thats just how this baby boy is, dont get discouraged he actually thinks you’re so cute.

also if you ever find yourself playing overcooked, moving out, gang beasts or any of those party games with kuni… good luck, just because he doesn’t like competitive games like valorant, DOES NOT MEAN HE ISNT COMPETITIVE. he gets so worked up and its honestly a little cute if you can look past the crusty white dog behaviour. if you do end up getting into an argument over these games, dont be surprised. im lazy to give a rating so im giving him 10/10, again minus the crusty white dog.

edit: if you saw “anyway wanderer is a straight” HAHA i apologise maybe thats why i should straight proof reading oops hehe

#genshin impact #kazuha #xiao #venti #wanderer #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader

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which-qsmp-egg-would · 22 days

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Time for the March Summary!

First of, the egg that haunts my dreams,

Richarlyson

For the 3rd month in a row, with 13/62 polls won last month, Richas has been voted most likely to:

Eat a random nut/berry/bug he found outside

Aim for the head during dodgeball

Intentionally cough/sneeze on someone while sick

Pick up something gross and chase his siblings around with it

Play computer games in class instead of doing his school work

Play football indoors and accidentally break a family relic

Play Julius Ceasar in a recreation of the Ides of March

Love a cursed food combination

Hunt down islanders that aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's Day

Pretend to be possessed to scare a sibling/parent

Refuse to wear shoes, even in the woods

Be the Rico (Penguins of Madagascar) of the island

Be covered in band-aids all the time

I do not know how he managed to win this many without me noticing. I think he's stealing trophies from me when I'm not looking.

Dapper

Wait, what? Even I wasn't expecting our favorite literal-demon child to win 2nd! With 11/62 polls won, Dapper has been voted most likely to:

Read Wikipedia articles for fun

Berate adults for coughing into their hand

Be a "Home Alone" protagonist

Love "Doctor Who"

Read Homestuck

Make a recreation of the Ides of March

Actually catch a leprechaun on Saint Patrick's Day

NOT have to sing the alphabet song to remember what order the letters are in

Love the Sherlock Holmes books

Know everything about demon folklore and scare everyone with their knowledge of it

Be determined to find every single easter egg at the island-wide easter egg hunt

She's a nerd, what else is there to say?

Chayanne & Pepito

Tied for 3rd, with 6/62 polls won each! Chayanne has been voted most likely to:

Love Hockey

Hyperfixate on the Percy Jackson series

Be a try-hard in P.E. class

Start a game of King Of The Hill everytime the school replaces the woodchips at recess

Fight with a teacher over a test grade

Sleep through fasting all day

Only look for the difficult to find eggs so their younger siblings can have fun at the Easter egg hunt

And Pepito has been voted most likely to:

Lose every round of Hide N' Seek because Pepito can't stop giggling

Believe in the Tooth Fairy

Chase Pepito's own tail

Still not know how to swim

Actually break a leg during a school play on accident

Eat paper because Pepito thinks it tastes good

One of the oldest eggs tying with one of the youngest. It's perfect.

Sunny

With 5/62 polls won, I'm sure Sunny is a little miffed that she's ended up in 4th. But it's okay, you all are sure to put her in 1st place one of these months. Sunny has been voted most likely to:

Secretly paint their closet an obnoxious color

Have a fashion show using her parents' clothes

Sleep with all of their stuffed animals so they don't get lonely

Treat the masjid shoe racks as their own personal shoe store

Have an imaginary friend

Tallulah, Ramón, & Pomme

Tying for 5th, with 4/62 polls won each, I'm very happy to see Pomme winning her first ever polls! And a total of 4 of them, no less! Tallulah has been voted most likely to:

Try and dye her own hair (making a huge mess)

Fit the main character role in "Coraline"

Perform Tarot card readings

Catch bees to pet them

Ramón has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with cowboys and the Wild West

Race to recalibrate the SmartBoard at school

Set up an elaborate rube goldberg machine to suprise a parent for their birthday

Have a space hyperfixation and want to be an astronaut

And Pomme has been voted most likely to:

Be a monster at PaintBall

Hyperfixate on Splatoon

Be very meticulous while coloring in a coloring book

Write a book

I think there's a pattern with that last one.

Leonarda

With 3/62 polls won, Leonarda has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with Power Rangers

Be into ice skating

Read every single Warrior cats books

I don't have anything funny to say here, It's hard to pay attention while listening to Ze Frank talk about coral kkkkkkkk

Empanada

With 2/62 polls won, Empanada has been voted most likely to:

Spend recess burying herself in woodchips and sleeping

Have Batik as a hobby

Oh hey, it's the first time Empanada's gone a full month without winning a poll about sweets!

Chunsik

Finally, our youngest has won a poll! With 1/62 polls won, Chunsik has been voted most likely to:

Be exempt from a Federation experiment because he politely declines it

What a polite kid!

...

That's it, right? That's all the eggs. All 11 eggs, all 62 polls for the month of March

...

Why does my clipboard say I'm missing two polls.....

...

Oh! Yes!

Juanaflippa & Bobby

In an absolutely unprecedented event, Juanaflippa AND Bobby have become our first ever dead eggs to win a canonical poll, with 1/62 win each! Juanaflippa has been voted most likely to:

Have a million allergies during the spring

And Bobby has been voted most likely to:

Get BANNED from playing Bulldog

It's still insane to me that you all managed to get these two a win. Bobby was going up against RICHARLYSON for void's sake. You all were fighting against the current on that one.

See you all soon!

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp Chayanne #qsmp Tallulah #qsmp dapper #qsmp ramón #qsmp leonarda #qsmp Richarlyson #qsmp pomme #qsmp pepito #qsmp Empanada #qsmp sunny #qsmp sunnysideup #qsmp chunsik #qsmp bobby #qsmp juanaflippa #not a poll #month recap

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v3nusxsky · 2 months

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Hii can I request one where reader is a very good student and the type of person who never gets in trouble or anything, but one day Larissa gets called to go get them at the police station because they got in a really bad fight, so on the way back she is kind of scolding them and reader doesn't open their mouths until they get to the school and reader just can't leave the car because they're scared, turna out they got into that fight because some jerks where being very homophobic/transphobic towards them and tried to physically hurt them so reader was just protecting themselves.

I know it can be a bit confusing, but I hope you can understand

Set up

*Authors note~ venting my feelings for this*

Trigger warnings ~ homophobia shitty friends fake friends arrest for assault hinted sexual assault

Prompt~ see ask^^^

How did you get here? Head resting against the dirty block of wood as deep marron flowers adorned your hair, vines attempting to fight their way out of your ivory gloves. All clear signs of the deep pain you were in. Yet the officers didn’t seem to care here, all they cared about was that you had hit another person. Maybe if they’d asked why it would’ve made more sense. But they never do.

Larissa Weems was fuming, it was extremely unlike you to do something like this. Violence is something you are terrified of, she almost asked the officer to check the Id of her student again. It couldn’t be you. Only this time it was. Normally this journey is done to fetch Wednesday Addams, not her estranged twin. Wednesday being your complete opposite meant you were sent to live in a facility to help tame your powers from a young age. Mortica hated it but it was necessary as you could be a danger to everyone your near.

“Let’s go” Larissa demanded making sure to add her frustration and disappointment to her tone. She was expecting some fight, an explanation but all she got was silence. Much like the police officer had warned her. Since you were brought in and questioned for assault you’d said nothing. Odd. You’d spent many evenings in Larissa’s office to catch up on studies and you were never non verbal even when things were tough.

The car journey being the exact same silence, your eyes holding all your emotions along with the flowers in your hair. Really you were just processing what happened which meant you couldn’t escape your head. Everything and everyone around you blurred into the background until the engine shut off.

“Come on daring” Larissa tried but was met with you looking like a deer caught in headlights, shaking your head. “Why? It’s Nevermore dear, you’re safe at Nevermore you know that right?” Was all it took for you to break down into silent sobs as you clung to be car door repeatedly mumbling no and don’t make me over and over.

As if she was approaching a scared cat she slowly sat back in the car shutting the door and waiting for you to make a move. It took some time but if there’s one thing about the principal it’s that she is a patient woman who would do anything for Nevermore and those within its walls.

When you moved it was like every inch was like waiting hours but eventually you lent over to lean your head on the woman’s lap as you tried to calm yourself. A gentle hand began to rub soothing circles on your back but accidentally hitting a sore spot causing you to help out. “Oh my darling, I’m sorry I didn’t know” she murmured which caused you to sit up tears silently running. “It’s my fault, they think I’m a freak. I shouldn’t like girls it’s wrong. Mother would be disappointed in me.”

“Darling, you can like whoever you want… is that what happened?” She murmured and you shook your head sadly. “I thought we were good friends, but she took me to this group of people and they kept trying to-“ you sucked a deep breath in, “touch me and I didn’t want them to!” You sobbed finally feeling relief of exposing the situation.

“Oh sweet one, you were defending yourself hmm?” Which you nodded sadly and whimpered apologies for dragging the schools name into this, that Larissa had to leave her quarters at such a late hour. It was truly heartbreaking but now she knew, she would protect you and any of her students from this pain again. It got to the point you’d exhausted yourself and fallen asleep in the car so she gently scooped you up and took you to the spare room near her quarters to make sure you were okay. It wasn’t easy but you had her for the long and painful journey of learning to love yourself for who you love.

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #larissa weems x reader #larissa #Larissa Weems #principleweemsxreader #larrisa weems #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #principle weems #comfort #principal weems x you #weems comfort #larissa x you #larissa x reader

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sapphos-ode · 8 months

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Little Cat

Part 14

Larissa Weems part 13 | part 15 | ao3

Hullo, sorry again for the wait. As promised, another instalment. I hope you like it x (7.2k)

The insistent ringing sound of a phone - muffled by something, rouses Larissa from her sleep. She can’t find the source but the vibrations stop so she lays her head back down onto the pillow. At her movement your hold on her tightens. Larissa’s heart swoons and takes to idly stroking your back. Your phone - she assumes it’s yours as hers is on her bedside table - starts ringing again. With a disgruntled noise she plucks herself from you and slips out the bed.

Larissa finds your phone with ease. Your small bag was open on its side and it’s screen lit up the inside. She picks it up and out of curiosity looks at who was calling, the ID read ‘Twat (Alice)’. She lets it go to voicemail, not sure how well recieved her voice would be if she answered.

The display goes back to your lock screen, and a horde of notifications all from Twat (Alice) flood in from the night.

‘did u get to her place? give the address. me and mari are back at the school btw’

Then some thirty minutes later Alice had sent more texts.

‘u ok?’

‘text me?’

‘call when u get back to nevermore. need to know u got back ok’

There’s about twelve missed calls between 1am and 2am. Larissa also sees her own phone number amongst Alice’s. Then there’s the ones from just now. Four calls. Larissa glances up at the time, it reads 10:32am. She never sleeps in past 9am, her body always - without fail - wakes her up before then.

Larissa didn’t wish for any distractions… she had some explaining to do and she had absolutely zero planning done. The idea of wearing her heart on her sleeve scared her. But you deserved to know.

She pressed one of the text notifications hoping you had set up the option to answer specific texts without needing to unlock the phone. No luck. The blonde swiped up and stared at the number pad mocking her. She knew she really should just accept the next incoming call but you were still asleep and she didn’t want to risk waking you up… she really wanted to climb back into bed and have another few moments just holding you.

A wild guess but she typed in ‘1234’, a bust. The princpal looked over at your sleeping form, then back to the phone where she proceeded to try ‘0000’. Of course that was it. Maybe she should send out a staff wide email with a cyber security refreshment course.

She found your chat with Alice and sent off a reply.

Atikah: This is Weems. Atikah is back safely.

Twat (Alice): oh

Twat (Alice): ok glad to hear was worried

All the way in the staff residential wing, in her room, Alice was biting her fist supressing a scream. Not wishing to wake her redhead companion who slept next to her.

Larissa turns the phone on silent before placing it on the nightstand and clambering into bed again. Her weight shifting the mattress must have woke you and she swore silently.

Your eyes, still hazy with sleep, meet hers. Before you squeeze them shut, your hangover making itself known. Your body vibrates with anxious energy and your head throbs with full aches. There’s also a threatening lump rising in your throat but you think you can keep it at bay. You can’t tell if this is the type of hangover where food would either kill you or cure you. With a bedraggled groan you pull the covers over your head and curl into a ball.

The night before comes back to you, and you really wish the world would swallow you up. Had you really looked that sad and pathetic that your boss - who didn’t like you and deemed your feelings as trivial - had to get you to bed? You were sure you’d find a notice of your termination in your inbox soon. It would look great on your cv, fired a few months into the school year. Maybe you could find a rich old man and marry him.

“I’m so sorry Ms. Weems,” you mumble from under the duvet. Your face burning with embarrassment.

Larissa doesn’t deign to answer. All you can feel is the covers being lifted and Larissa joining you under them. She scoots closer to you and places a hand on your waist.

“Give me five and I’ll be out your hair,” you talk into your arms. Not wanting to look at her.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Larissa,” she keeps a light tone to her voice.

She hates you calling her by her surname. That name doesn’t belong in your mouth, not like her first name does. The way you always seemed to take your time saying it, as if you were savouring the way the syllables rolled off your tongue.

You peek up from your arms and give her a withering glare - you have no time for her games, she made it clear she had no interest in you. She shot you down, so you certainly don’t plan on being friendly again… you’ll keep it civil and professional and that’s all.

You remember what she said last night, mostly. She needed to talk to you about something - clearly it was very pressing if she bailed on her fuck buddy. You think you maybe had a conversation in her bed before going to sleep but that’s all you can recall. On the topic of Larissa’s friends with benefits situ - you don’t remember seeing an adult you don’t recognise coming into Nevermore after working hours. Had Larissa ever had them over? Had they fucked in her bed? The one you’re lying in right now-

The blonde clears her throat and begins to stroke your waist with her thumb out of nervous habit. “How- how are you feeling?”

You blink slowly, “Rough. I feel like I got hit by a truck…” your candor has Larissa giggling.

“I’ll grab you some water and painkillers, wait here,”

You nod and do as you’re told. You might be feeling hurt and angry at her. But you would do anything she asked of you without question. You hate to admit that to yourself.

The whole three minutes it takes Larissa to fill a glass and push two pills out of a blister sheet feel like an eternity. An eternity where you sit under her covers bricking it. Larissa didn’t seem angry but you know that woman was a master at masking how she felt, she had it down to an art. Schooling her features and masking what she truly felt was an inevitable skill with her job.

You feel the covers being lifted and turn to face Larissa. Who has one knee resting on the matress as she peeks under the duvet. She offers out a glass of water and you take it gladly, sighing contentedly as the liquid soothes your dry throat. Larissa watches how the muscles in your neck move, she so badly wants to press her lips to it… cover the marks that litter your skin with her own.

“Here, paracetamol,”

You don’t look at the pills, blindly trusting Larissa as you take them from her and swallow. Washing them down with the remaining water. The glass is taken from your hands and placed on a nearby surface. Then Larissa’s telling you to move over she she can slide back under the duvet with you.

Once you’re both settled back down, lying on your sides facing each other, Larissa takes a few deep inhales. Closing her eyes as she figures out where to start. Meanwhile you take this moment to appreciate her - it would be the last time you could marvel at how her hair pooled around her neck before it splayed across her shoulders. How her eyes were so doe like, caressed with crows feet - a marker of all the times her blindingly brilliant smile has graced the word. The frown lines bracketing her lips saddened you to think she ever had cause to frown, to be burdened, but at the same time they were a testament of her emotions. How she felt pain and sorrow - adding a human element to her despite how godlike she was in your eyes.

You’re so confused by everything and all you want is to throw yourself into Larissa’s arms and block out the world. But at the same time you want to run - bury yourself in work and bad tv shows so you can’t dwell on Larissa. But that would be futile, Larissa was everything to you. And it would be stupid to think otherwise.

“Atikah… I owe you an explanation.” The blonde’s eyes open and search for yours. Her pupils dilating the second they meet.

You stay quiet, confusion brimming underneath your surface. Your eyes flit between her aquamarine. Hoping to find a preview of what she’ll say next.

“I- wait, how much do you remember from last night?”

You really don’t want to speak. But you can’t possibly leave the woman in front of you hanging. You’re about to answer when you feel her hand, her soft and warm hand, push the hair from your face and rest on your cheek. Idly stroking it.

“I don’t remember getting into bed, but the rest I do.” You sheepishly admit. Your voice hoarse.

“You don’t remember what was said before you fell asleep…” Larissa talks slowly and calculatingly. More of a statement to confirm her knowledge than a question.

She was hoping you had, the notion of having to say she liked you again made her queasy. Despite your feelings being in the open she was still fearful of rejection and the idea of hiding behind a faux indifference seemed much easier. Old habits die hard.

“No, sorry,” you lay your hand on top of hers. Watching her, hoping she wouldn’t pull away.

Larissa’s eyes flick down to your neck, “You are okay? Right?”

Your stumped expression makes Larissa elaborate. You weren’t dead in a ditch so yeah? You were fine?

“Last night,” she nods to your marked neck, “it was consensual, you weren’t taken advantage of?” She should’ve asked that last night.

“Oh, yeah… it was,” you mumble, not really wanting to acknowledge your activities.

Certainly not with the woman who rejected you. Why did she care other than to be nosy and chastise. Your eyes must have taken on a hard look. Your lips must have pressed into a line as you look at Larissa’s chin. No longer wishing to see into her eyes.

“That’s a relief, I was worried. When you didn’t come back with Marilyn and Miss. Hansen…”

Oh? She was worried. You feel guilty now, and a fondness for Larissa grows in your chest.

“How did you-?”

“I know everything that happens in this school,”

Larissa’s joke (or maybe it wasn’t a joke) has you laughing. Bowing your head. She wiggled closer to you, so when you look up she’s right in front of you - certainly a very effective way to have your attention on her and her only.

Your laugh stops with a sharp halt, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes wander to her lips - pale pink, lacking the usual red lipstick. In another life you’d lean in and kiss her. But not this one.

“You cried. Last night, a lot actually,” Larissa’s voice draws your eyes back up to hers. You cringe at the information. “We… you didn’t make much sense but you did manage to ask me why I said I didn’t like you.” Larissa pauses.

Your entire body has tensed, you did want to know. Kind of, but you had your answer. Buried in the layers of her guilt. You didn’t need her to list all the reasons why you weren’t what she was looking for. Or why you weren’t enough.

“I did? I’m sorry,” you say weakly. Shying your gaze away from her. “I don’t want that answer,”

You turn and go to slip out of the bed. Having to traipse through the covers but Larissa’s strong hand pulls your back flush to her front. Her much longer body curls around yours and holds you tight. Your body betrays you as it feels a sense of security.

“I think you do,”

You still against her body, and then begin to tremble as you fight back tears, your lower lip wobbling as you screw your eyes shut. You really don’t.

“You asked me that after I said that I like you,” she continues.

Was this a cruel game?

“Stop,” you feel wetness trickle to the side of your face. Getting absorbed by the fabric of the bedsheets.

“Atikah please… I can’t let you go, I shouldn’t have lied. But I was scared- ” Larissa cuts herself off, her own tears threaten her eyes. “Can you face me?”

Wordlessly you turn in her arms and give her a distrustful look. You don’t think you can talk without the dam behind your eyes breaking.

“Thank you,” You note how Larissa’s face softens as she studies yours. “Your feelings are returned…”

Your eyes light up.

“But,” your shoulders sag, “there is a significant age gap- ”

Ah, you were just too young. A pity.

“And I was worried that it would become an issue, I have- ” god, she really is about to admit aloud parts of her she barely acknowledges herself. She presses on, “I’m- I’ve had my heart broken many times, and I’ve grown distrustful…” a deep breath, “so many people wanted me for what I could give them, do for them.

“I’m shamed to admit but I’ve been taken advantage of, I’ve ignored red flags because I kept hoping that if I just changed. Became different for them they’d want me… for me. But that never happened,” Larissa’s voice cracks.

“And because of all that I have a lot of… issues. I have this horrible habit of denying myself anything good that comes along in my personal life… I sabotage my own happiness and with you during the sunset, I did it again.

What I’m trying to say is I’m not the best partner…. And I’m also at that point in my life where I just want to have a simple routine with someone. With you…” she speaks with a tremor.

“But?” You prompt her on.

“But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re young and you still have so many things to experience that I already have- I’m afraid I just don’t have the thrill or excitement you’d want, my problems aren’t something you should have to deal with.

“When you confessed, oh Atikah I wanted to say yes so badly, and- but- you’re so young and I’ve become a bit of a bore in my progressing age,” Larissa sighs in defeat.

You roll her explanation around in your mind. Mulling over what she said in silence. Larissa seems to take your lack of answer as a cue to explain herself more.

“I also worried that me being your employer might have made you feel like you were being coerced… and I- all I want is for you to make your own choices. And not feel tethered,”

You lift a hand to take a lock of silken hair between your fingers. Absentmindedly running it through your digits, focusing on how it feels against your skin.

“Larissa, who said I didn’t want a simple relationship?”

“What?” It’s a ghost of a whisper.

“I’m sorry you’ve been used before… no one deserves that, least of all you.” You slink your arms around her neck, pulling her incrementally closer, you can feel her heart pounding, “I’ve been in a few relationships where it was all about doing new and exciting things together, but I honestly wasn’t happy. I want to go to work, and then when the days over I want to go back to you, I’ve always been a creature of habit.”

You nudge your head into the junction where her neck becomes her shoulder. Your warm breath tickles her skin.

“My job keeps me very busy…” Larissa practically whimpers.

“I know, but even a quick smile when we pass in the corridors is enough,”

“I’m bitter, I can get jealous… I’m insecure, and I’ll always worry I’m not enough,” Larissa’s hand begins to stroke your hair. Her voice shaking.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Ow…”

“But that’s how you are, and I want you, as you are. Flaws and all…”

The blonde’s entire body freezes and you begin to worry you said something wrong. You pull away from her just enough to look into her eyes. They’ve glossed over and a salty tear drops onto your cheek.

“Larissa?” Panic sets in.

You scoot up and cup her face. Wiping away the tears that begin to fall in abandon from her eyes. Her chin wobbles as her lips press together. She sniffles and tries to cover her face but you won’t let her.

“Talk to me, please,”

Many shaky breathes and wet sniffles later and Larissa is able to form words. “I- I know you do, but my mind tells me not to believe you- I’m sorry, I’m so sor- ”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you haven’t stopped wiping her tears away. Her grip on you is so tight you’re sure she’s white knuckled now.

“It’s not. I know I can trust you, I shouldn’t doubt you… I’m sorr- ”

“Larissa Weems, I want you so badly, I want all your bitterness and insecurity and jealousy. They’re parts of you and because they’re part of you I love them. But I also love your passion, the way you command an entire room just by walking in. The way you care so much about every single student.” Your eyes pierce Larissa’s as you look between hers.

Desperate for her to understand your feelings in their entirety. Hoping that she’d see herself how you do, even if fractionally.

“Larissa, I want you. Just as you are, I don’t want a different version of you, I just want you.”

That seems to do the trick. Larissa breaks down into heavy sobs as she surges forward to bury her face against your chest. Her cries not only wrack her body but yours as well. She manages to hold you even tighter as she releases decades of pain and hurt and heartbreak. For so many years Larissa had been yearning for, begging for those words. And here you were, you gave her those words without her having to work for them, to earn them. You wanted her not because she had done something good, but because she existed.

Her t-shirt that you're wearing is soaking wet and wrinkled. You run a hand through her hair in languid motions while the other wraps around her firmly, hoping it helps ground her. All the while you murmur little words of reassurance, only loud enough for her ears to catch.

Eventually Larissa’s cries turn to hiccups and broken inhales, then she’s speaking again.

“I- hic I love you, please. I want hic- you hic- I want you to be hic- mine,” Larissa’s hold on you gets even stronger as she mumbles into your body.

It hurts but you barely notice, too focused and concerned about how her muscles quiver and tense. You smile at her words and slowly pry her from your chest, cupping her face with your hands as you guide her to look at you. Her eyes are red and puffy and her nose is running. She sniffles again and fights off another fleet of tears. You press your forehead against hers.

“I’ve always been yours, ever since I first met you,” you whisper. The huge grin was evident in your voice.

It was true, when you had first walked into her office - after another teacher had shown you our quarters so you could drop off your luggage - you had stood in the open doorway dumbfounded as your eyes drank in every detail about Larissa as she sat at her desk. A smile on her cherry lips and an alluring tilt to her head as the window behind her cast her in an angelic light. You remember she had jokingly asked you if you were a vampire and needed an explicit invitation into the room. Her English accent had washed away all your nerves about the new job and replaced them with a different kind. The kind that felt like butterflies parading in your stomach, the kind that made your hands shake but in a good way. From that moment on you knew you were condemned.

Larissa’s eyes water more and this time it’s tears of happiness. Her smile threatens to split her face.

“Will you be mine?” You speak with the gentleness of a summer’s breeze that carries dandelion seeds through fields.

“Yes, yes, god yes!” Larissa can’t get the words out her mouth fast enough.

You can’t help the peals of giggles at her enthusiasm. It was so endearing and you just wanted to kiss her.

“What are you doing today?”

“I have an empty schedule until late afternoon,”

Larissa adores the way your face lights up.

“How about we get lunch?” You ask, then with hope you add, “As a date?” You pray you aren’t overstepping.

“I’d love that,”

Larissa sat in her living room, clad in one of her elegant dresses, hair pinned to perfection as always. Her leg bounces up and down as she lets the silence suffocate her. Blue eyes flitting to the door periodically. How long did you need to get ready?

Seconds pass, accumulating into minutes.

Doubt begins to claw its way in, forcing open the doors of her mind, perhaps you changed your mind. Some things are too good to be true. And this may have been one of them.

The faint ticking of her watch marches on dutifully.

Once you had reached your quarters you only had thoughts for your shower. A relieved moan escaped past your lips as the hot water hit your skin, you always liked to have it just a touch away from scalding you. You let it wash over you as you begin to lather your hair and clean your body.

You keep it as quick as you can, water falling off the ends of your hair in fat droplets onto your bath mat. After doing your teeth and applying whatever skincare products your hands reached first, you were now ready to get dressed. The clothes from yesterday had been tossed in your laundry basket.

You wanted to wear Larissa’s t-shirt, it smelt of her - faintly of that delicious spiced citrus perfume she wears but more so of her, her natural smell. You couldn’t describe it for the life of you but it smelt familiar and it felt like home. That feeling you get when you arrive back at your house after a week away, when you discard your suitcase in the hall and turn on all the lights to cosy the place up. When your pet runs up to greet you after you come back from work. When your dad calls out from the kitchen that he has your favourite meal in the oven. But you had slept in it, so you opt to fold it and place it on your pillow before chucking on one of your own t-shirts.

You wring all the water out of your hair with a towel and toss it onto your bed - it would air dry quickly. You dress yourself quickly before chucking on the nearest pair of shoes and make to leave but your reflection in the mirror gives you reason to pause. Your neck. You should cover Maven’s marks.

With a disgruntled sigh, the time it takes to cover them is less time spent with Larissa, you head to your vanity and dig around your makeup bag for colour corrector and concealer. If your memory serves you correctly, your foundation is on the floor by the leg of your desk.

You conceal the hickeys with a little too much proficiency. But soon enough it’s as if they never existed. You’re too busy inspecting them to hear your front door open and a familiar voice call out, nor do you hear your bedroom door creak open. Only when you sense a presence to your left do you turn, screaming when you come face to face with Alice. Out of survival instinct you launch whatever you were holding - your tube of foundation - at her with all your might. It hits her on the cheek.

“Ow- what the hell?!” The lycan nurses the growing red spot.

“I’m sorry! You scared me!” You counter. A hand on your chest, you can feel your heart raging inside.

“If you started locking your door maybe you wouldn’t have home invaders!”

“I keep meaning to… I just forget,” you mumble.

“It’s alright,” Alice sighs, running a hand through her fair hair. “I just wanted to check you were okay, you didn’t text,”

“Sorry, I got back safe though, and I’m sorry if I ruined your night by not texting when I said I would,” the hangxiety starts to make its home

in your stomach.

“Girl you didn’t, Mari and I had a great time, also I know, Larissa texted me,”

“She did?” Your eyes squint as one eyebrow raises.

“Yep, you weren’t answering any calls, and she texted on your phone this morning,”

Your lips form a small ‘o’. You’re not sure what to say.

“Anyways last night??? What happened?” Alice is dying to know.

“It’s… I’ll tell you later, I need to go see Larissa!” With that you give Alice a quick hug before running out of your room, a Cheshire Cat grin on your face. Tactfully avoiding the questions she’s throwing at you.

As you’re trotting down the corridor you pass Alice’s door - just missing a disgruntled botany teacher exit, wearing Alice’s hoodie.

You forgo knocking on Larissa’s office door, simply letting yourself in. You study the room again - it looks so different without the chandeliers on and the fire burning. It’s still no less opulent though. When you had left this room you were in a rush, and hadn’t noticed the filing cabinet with several drawers open. Some files sticking out. You also didn’t pay any attention to Larissa’s desk, it’s strewn with more employee files.

You walk closer to it, eyes soaking in the taxidermied crow and the black rose housed in a glass container. You cock your head and read the open file that lays atop the rest. A small passport sized photo of you smiling looks back at you. Oh. This was yours. Why on earth was Larissa digging around?

You shrug it off and knock on the door that adjoins the Principal’s quarters to her office. It’s more of a courtesy, you give Larissa enough time to register the knock before you enter.

Larissa jumps at the sound of knuckles on her front door. She had moved from the living room to her bed again - she had made it, and sat with a blanket and the stuffed cat you had won her cuddled in her lap, one hand idly running over the soft material. She placed her phone down beside her and swung her legs off the bed. Just then you burst through the door.

There’s only three things Larissa can recall from that moment; the pure and utter relief that you did come back, the way your face immediately took on the world's widest grin when you saw her, and the guilt that sneaked its way in for doubting you.

She wasn’t given long to wallow in her conscience because you’d crossed the room and enveloped her in a hug, savouring the way her body relaxed at your touch. You really could kiss her but you figured that might be too much for her. After all, the woman had problems born from past lovers’ cruelty and you both still had a lot more to discuss. You had waited so long for this, you could wait a little longer to feel those lips on yours.

“Sorry I took ages,” you hum into her ear, letting your body weight push her back down onto the mattress.

You lay there content, half on top of her with both your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Delighted to feel her warmth against you.

“You’re here now,” she purrs, her arms finding purchase around your waist.

“You look good by the way,” you chirp into her neck. Larissa can feel the smile on your lips.

Her cheeks take on a pink tint. “Thank you,”

You spend a good amount of time cuddling, awkwardly hanging off the bed. Neither one of you daring to move and disrupt the tranquillity that’s blanketed the air around you. Larissa feels as if she is whole again, your body wraps and melds to her as if you were one entity. She listens to your breathing - calm and even. The blonde allows her eyes to close as she adjusts her own breathing to fall in time with yours.

Sleep must have claimed her because when she next opens her eyes they’re heavy with sleep and her mind is foggy. You’re still awake, having propped yourself up on your elbow so you can just admire her. Your hand traces patterns on her cheek - Larissa’s own one covers yours, stilling it and holding it to her face.

“We should get going, anywhere in mind?” Larissa’s usually silken voice is just a touch gravelly. It stokes a fire in you.

“Ms. Barrick actually suggested this small bistro place just outside Burlington… unless you’d prefer somewhere else?”

“No, that sounds nice,”

The drive was mostly silent apart from the radio station, and your occasional commentary whenever you passed by a field of cows or horses.

The bistro was the embodiment of rustic chic, raw wood tables lined the place with mismatched chairs and cutlery, even the crockery was varied. Despite this all pieces seemed to complement each other - and paired with the low lighting created an embracing ambience. All the art pieces hung on the wall were for sale, created by local artists, and wooden bookcases displayed bags of gourmet coffee beans also available for purchase.

It was busy enough without being overpacked - a lovely buzz filled the room accompanied by the sound of forks hitting porcelain as people ate. Jazz songs play in the background.

Larissa reached the door first, and held it open for you, guiding you in with a hand in the small of your back. You can’t help the rosy glow on your cheeks at her chivalry. Once you’re both inside a young woman greets you and guides you to a cosy table against a wall. You sit next to Larissa rather than across from her.

At her inquisitive look you go to justify your actions, “I just want to be close to you, that’s not a crime now, is it?”

Larissa gives it some thought, in the past whoever she had been dating always sat across from her, she had to agree that sitting side by side afforded a closeness, a sweet intimacy. She quite liked it.

“Even if it was, with such an innocent face you wouldn’t be charged,” she chuckles as she shirks off her coat and takes off her silk headscarf. You watch her mesmerised.

Your trance is broken when the waitress places a glass jug of water and two crystal glasses. She asks if you want to order drinks.

“Hot chocolate, please,” Larissa is armed and ready with her request.

You smile to yourself before asking for an Americano with an extra shot of espresso. Your hangover had pretty much subsided now but you were a tad tired, and caffeine sounded like the perfect solution.

“They have so many options,” the blonde murmurs more to herself than you.

You watch as her eyes flit across the menu. It’s printed on off white handmade paper. By the looks of it, it’s recycled given by the little flecks of imperfection on its rough surface. The deckle edge adds the finishing touch. It’s marred with coffee stains and parts of it are warped from drinks being spilled on it. You wonder how often they need to replace them.

You pick up your own menu, your fingers playing with the frayed edges. Larissa was right, there was a lot to choose from. The smashed avocado with lemon and chilli flakes on sourdough toast sounded amazing but so did their French toast with maple syrup and seasonal fruits.

“Oh! The pancakes sound exquisite,”

Your attention is drawn from the menu, Larissa’s eyes have a childlike twinkle in them and you both know she’s made her choice. Given her sweet tooth you’re not surprised. You study the slope of her nose and then her lips that are pulled into a smile. Your eyes follow the curve of her chin and on to the contour of her jaw. You fight the urge to pepper kisses along it.

“The Americano…” the waitress is back, she places your drink in front of you, “and the hot chocolate,”

You smile at her and thank her.

“Are we ready to order, or do you need another few moments?” She has a notepad and pen poised.

You look at Larissa and nod. Letting her go first. As expected she’s getting the pancake stack. It’s only now that you realise you are not ready, too busy admiring the woman next to you. The waitress is now looking at you and you still have no clue what you want. You glance at the menu and order the first thing you read.

“Wonderful, I’ll get those out to you soon,” the waitress chirps before leaving the pair of you.

Larissa wastes no time in bringing the ceramic mug to her lips, enjoying the first sip of her hot chocolate. A moan of unadulterated satisfaction rumbles from her throat and has you wide eyed, blushing, and biting your nails to keep yourself in check. Her eyelashes flutter as she relishes the warmth travelling down her throat, unaware of the effect she has on you.

It seems that this place doesn’t use hot chocolate powder, opting to melt actual chocolate into cream mixed with a little brown sugar to ensure its sweetness. Creating a beautifully thick drink that slides down with ease.

A tiny drop has found its way onto Larissa’s bottom lip. Without a second thought you wipe it away with your thumb, blue eyes meet yours with a hint of confusion before she realises. A sheepish smile plays on her mouth and she’s about to thank you but you take your thumb and lick the stray bead.

Now it’s her turn to blush.

“It tastes heavenly,” You give her an innocent smile.

She just nods at you dumbly, swallowing thickly as she slowly places the cup back onto the table. You scoot a little closer to her, your thighs pressed together.

“You know…” you talk in her stead, “the past few days, I…” you pause, unsure if you want to continue, “I missed you, quite a lot,” you whisper the last part whilst fiddling with your hands in your lap.

Larissa blinks and regains her composure, guilt gnaws at the back of her mind. She takes one of your hands in her own and gives it a firm squeeze before interlocking her fingers with you, they slot between hers perfectly.

“I missed you too,” she admits. Relieved to find no trace of anger on your face, although if there was she would understand.

“I think you’ll agree but we have a few things to talk about… about us,” your other hand comes to rest atop your joint ones, stroking the smooth skin on the back of Larissa’s. “But I’m glad my feelings are mutual,”

The blonde hums in agreement. Content that she had managed to tell you in the end.

“As backwards as this sounds, I’m glad you came back to Nevermore covered in hickeys,”

You cough on your own air, head whipping round to look up at the principal.

“What!?”

Larissa’s laugh is deep and wholehearted. You wait patiently for her to calm. Your face strewn in a delightful mix of confusion and embarrassment. You’re glad you had run into Larissa and not a student out past curfew but now you’re beginning to think differently.

She speaks with soft giggles interspersed between her words, “if it weren’t for them- well, it made me realise I couldn’t bear to picture you with someone else,”

“Oh…” it’s barely audible.

“Seeing them… It made me realise my feelings for you were stronger than my fear. That I couldn’t let you go without trying,” there’s vulnerability laced in her voice.

“Possessive are we?,” you lean in closer to her. A playful hint to your voice.

“Wouldn’t you love to know,” Larissa’s voice drops an octave as she whispers to you almost conspiratorially.

She catches how your breath hitches and your eyes widen. Her eyes flit between your lips and your neck which she only now notices the lack of hickeys. She knows they’re under a layer of makeup but seeing your unblemished skin has her dying to latch on and leave her own love bites. Little red circles to show that you’re hers to enjoy.

“The pancakes?” Just like that the charged moment is dispelled.

You look away and do your best to recover whilst the plates are being placed down. You utter a small thank you before taking a steadying breath. Unknowingly, Larissa had you wrapped around her finger and finished off with a bow.

A beautifully plated serving of eggs Benedict sits in front of you, steam wafting off of it. Two English muffins toasted to perfection sit beneath cured ham and poached eggs that look soft but not too runny. The hollandaise sauce is proportioned well, not too little that the meal would be dry but not too much that it makes everything soggy. The flecks of green from the dill garnish adds a feeling of freshness to it all.

“That looks delicious,” Larissa comments.

Her pancakes look equally as tasty, they’re perfectly fluffy and don’t look dense at all. Crispy bacon is placed between them and the maple syrup sits in a small ceramic jug, a few berries and dollops of whipped cream sit next to it and a light dusting of icing sugar coats the entire meal. You’d admit that you are a little jealous.

“You want to try some?” You regretfully have to take your hand from hers.

“No no, I don’t want to deprive you- ”

“Nonsense,” you wave her off.

You make quick work of cutting off a bit for Larissa, making sure you have a little bit of everything on your fork before lifting it to her mouth. Your other hand rests under her chin to catch anything in case it falls. You’d hate to stain that lovely dress of hers.

The blonde looks at you a miffed, but she plays along and opens her mouth for you. Accepting the morsel, enjoying the combination of flavours that bloom in her mouth. Her lips wrap around the prongs of the fork as you pull it away, your eyes focused on them. You really wanted to kiss her.

Larissa let’s out another satisfied moan and you have to bite your lip, almost drawing blood. You have to concentrate on your breathing. You close your eyes and take measured inhales.

“Here,”

In front of you Larissa offers you a mouthful of her own dish, returning the favour. You gladly accept it - enjoying the delightful mix of sweet and savoury. You’d definitely be coming back here.

You both eat in silence, a sign of good food. Your plates are cleared and you end up sitting there talking for hours. Before you know it, it’s time to head back to Nevermore. You silently curse whatever meeting Larissa has.

Back at the school you and Larissa stand in the quad, the leaves of the tree have turned to orange, a few red ones dapple its branches. Occasionally some flutter to the ground to join its brethren that dot the grass. The autumn breeze ruffles the tree and makes it move with an uncanny likeness to a breathing beast.

You have to part ways here, sadly. You’re facing her, both her hands clasped in yours. Idly chit chat being exchanged - both of you trying to stall and steal a few extra seconds.

“This was lovely,” you hum, getting lost in her eyes.

“It was, yes…” Larissa tilts her head as she regards you with a fond look.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket with a reminder. She needed to head up earlier to sort the mess of files on her desk.

Your eyes land on her pocket with a melancholic smile, “you’re always welcome to swing by my quarters, Rissa, any time,” you chirp.

“Duly noted,” her heart soars.

You go to pull away, to let her get on with her day but she moves unnervingly quickly. Her hands cup your face as her body bends forwards. Her lips - god her lips were so soft, velvety even. She presses them to yours and in your shock you can see her eyes are screwed shut and her brows tense. You let your eyes flutter shut and kiss her back. Your arms snaking around her waist pulling her flush to you as you arch your back to fit against her like a puzzle piece. Your hearts thrashing in your chest and you feel lightheaded. Only able to focus on the feeling of Larissa’s lips on yours. How you’ve dreamt of this and now it was finally happening.

It was chaste and sweet, and you stayed there for longer than needed, savouring the sensation. Electricity spikes through your entire being, originating from your mouth. The blonde is the first to pull away - a look of wonder in her lidded blue eyes. She’s just a touch out of breath but with the dreamy smile on her lips you know she’d gladly run out of air if it meant she could kiss you nonstop.

Her phone vibrates again.

“I need to- I’m sorry,”

“Go, you have a school to maintain,” you understand. And what you said was true, even just a passing smile was enough.

You give her one last peck on the lips before sending her on her way. You stay in the courtyard watching her retreating figure, and returning her smile when she looks over her shoulder just before disappearing from sight.

“Come on, pick up,” you mutter at your phone as it rings.

You’re speed walking through the halls, feeling giddy and light as a feather. Finally Alice picks up. Her voice sounding tin-like and metallic.

“Hello?”

“Are you free right now?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m coming to yours in five,” you hang up on her and hurry to the lycan’s quarters.

Unlike you, Alice locks her door. So you attack the door with your knuckles. Impatiently waiting for her to answer it. She opens it with a muddled look of worry and confusion.

You spend the rest of the day with her, giving her a rundown - carefully censored for the sake of Larissa’s privacy - of everything that had happened since she lost you on the dance floor.

Taglist - @weemssapphic @h-doodles @blessmysouljessisonaroll @eveymay @lvinhs @enchantressb @a-queen-and-her-throne @vmpnano @opheliauniverse @emsgwenstan @renravens

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader

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mommyclaws · 2 months

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mm id love to hear about mousefur or willowpelt

Mousefur already has a pretty solid personality and role, I didn’t have much to change about her, so I’ll do Willowpelt! I like what I’ve done with her so far :]

I always found it interesting how Graypaw was much more relaxed on befriending and chatting with a kittypet compared to the other apprentices. (The only other one that was “friendly” being Ravenpaw, who was too busy being scared his mentor would kill him 😭) So I thought I’d use his mom to explore that a bit! I wanted some diversity on how cats think, raise their kits, and what they believe.

Willowpelt gives birth to Graykit during a period of famine in Thunderclan. Because their numbers are so big compared to the other clans, a harsh winter was all it took. The forest simply couldn’t sustain all of their population. Many cats starved, but notably her close friends, like Robinwing and Patchpelt, as well as Graykit’s father, Fuzzypelt. (I’ve switched some family trees around- Fuzzypelt as Gray’s father just makes sense to me) She takes the losses hard and it really changed her perspective on things. She starts to see border shuffles and infighting between clans as trivial. There’s a reason Starclan hides the moons when they fight at gatherings, isn’t there?

The biggest threat to the clans isn’t eachother, it’s surviving in the wild. Though not many agree with her sentiment, she’s pretty open and vocal about wishing the clans would work together and her priorities are always on her clan’s wellbeing instead of battle. She believes that if clan relations were better and not everything was about pride, Thunderclan might have been able to reach out to the other clans during the famine and asked for their help. Then maybe, so many wouldn’t have died… Bluestar was her mentor here as well, she actually got a bit of this ideology during her apprenticeship. So Willowpelt taught Graypaw to be open-minded from a young age. He’s always had very little hostility for outsiders and the other clans. She was surprised about his relationship with Silverstream, but she absolutely defended and supported him.

I genuinely think she would have left Thunderclan with him and joined Riverclan with her grandkits, but I haven’t quite decided where Sorrel, Rain, and Soot, are in this timeline- or if they're even hers. I don’t think she’d be able leave if she was already caring for them. But either way, after the initial surprise of the reveal, Willowpelt supported her son entirely.

#Willowpelt design belongs to @/theoriginalkittypet she was just so fat and gorgeous I can’t imagine her any other way #also Willows probably a trans woman but ill decide that when ive sorted out the deal with her second litter :3 #infodump tag #willowpelt #TY for the ask! i wanted to ramble abt willow a bit #long post #anon #asks

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sounds-void-fishy · 2 months

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ik i said i was gonna sleep but then fanfic and my cat nemesis screaming. anyways thinking about how ever since i was a teen ive not wanted to have kids but wanted to foster teens cause id be too scared to fuck a kid up but my set of skills has always been on track to being that of someone good at fostering teens.

and like. idk being maggot granddyke has rlly scratched that itch? especially with the idea of maggot summer camp? i am so so so full of care. being able to teach and help and support. this is all stuff i always wanted to do. this is what i was trying to do school to. and im so grateful that i get to.

i think a lot about this elderly dyke when i worked at an old folks home who toasted me when i told her how honoured i was.

i think about the kids at my high school who tomorrow afternoon are having a st patricks day party with my mom because she is one of the adult supervision and how i started that pride club nine years ago and how having a legacy at 24 is beautiful and terrifying

i think about my roommates when i moved into my current place who were like seven and ten years older than me and declared themselves my parents, at a time when i was freshly out of inpatient and floating at best

i think about the actor at sleep no more, and me crying from the beauty of the connection of queerness

i think about a friend of mine who was a youth leader at my congregation when i was in high school who i thought was nonbinary when i first met them. they didnt realise until quite a bit later. they are one of my dearest friends now

i think about the only time i went to summer camp, a week of leadership camp. it was the first place nobody knew my birth name. where i used just they/them pronouns. it was the first place i learned of the beauty of physical platonic intimacy, where we would all cuddle, or be close while playing cards or reading my immortal

i think of all of us holding hands across the years and the time and the space. in my heart and my mind there is a hangmans tree, from peter pan. the inside is all hollow and infinitely large and there is space for all those i love.

in my soul we are at summer camp and i am yearning so deeply for that to be real in whatever way i can make it

#fuck theres an angels quote #the sould of these departed joined hands clasped ankles and formed a web a great net of sould #and the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone #and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired #nothings lost forever #in this world theres a kid of painful progress #jehangel tag #maggot taggot #maggot summer camp

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vee-crytraps · 23 days

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Kiss Me More | Ch 1 | {Groan}

SUMMARY: It’s been twelve long years since you were the sad little girl tugging on the tails of your adoptive father’s coat.

Your brothers take notice. AN: New to posting fics on Tumblr, feel free to read here or over on Ao3 under the username VenusCrytraps. Same bat time, same bat channel.

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}

And yeah, i wanna spend the night with you Yeah, i wanna feel a beating, bleeding heart, don't you? Because i've never really known But i pinky promise you i'm grown And i wanna know what it feels like

You’re deep in your head as you lean forward in your vanity’s mirror, lightly dabbing away the smeared lipstick at the corner of your mouth with your middle finger. You don’t notice the creak of your door as it opens, and the protest of the frame as one of your many adopted siblings leans against it.

You don’t see the range of emotions he cycles through- some visible on his face, and others happening only in his head, behind those stormy green eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t think so.” Jason scoffs to himself after a minute, startling you. The tension drains from your shoulders as you turn around to see him standing there, all geared up in his Red Hood uniform sans the armor and that goofy fucking helmet of his. Your surprise has less to do with the atrophied instincts you’ve barely managed to keep from your two weeks as Robin back in the day, and more to do with the strangeness of Jason serving you his best impression of Dick’s Blue Steel, A.K.A, his ’Concerned Big Brother’ face. Something your oldest brother pulled so often, he could have it patented. It looks totally ridiculous on Jason, a dude you legitimately haven’t seen out of his uniform since he was welcomed back into the family. You think to yourself that he must be doing his rounds, doing his best to repair the dynamics that were lost when he died, and soured when the pit left him more than a little trigger happy.

Still, you remind yourself of Dick’s advice, to reward vulnerability and welcome these moments. Jason was supposedly quite fragile beyond his hulking form.

You sighed. “What can I do for you?”

There was some lingering awkwardness around the fact that he’d briefly dedicated his life to ending your dads, but if Bruce could trust him enough to welcome him anywhere near the Batcave, you supposed you could, too. He was trying his best, after all. You just wish he’d take it elsewhere, for once.

Still, you’ll play along.

“Where the hell are you going?” Dressed like that, was the implication that hung in the air. You’re smart enough to fill in the blank. He’s smart enough to let you.

“Out.” You turn around, unable to help but be a little bit guarded about this particular line of questioning.

God, on all the nights…

Turning your back to him, you casually resume your preening. He doesn’t at all remember you being this stubborn, but he’d died and come back to find you a whole lot older than he remembered.

“Out,” Jason repeated, exhaling heavily as he pushed off the doorframe. Jason was your age, once. He knew all about ‘out’. When he was in your shoes, going to Gotham Academy, making those fancy friends with more money than sense, ‘out’ meant joyriding around, bar hopping with fake ID’s and hooking up with fast, socialite girls wearing skirts not unlike the one you sported as you shifted in your plush vanity seat.

“What’s his name?”

“Are you still here?”

It slips out of you before you can remind yourself of Dick’s instruction to give Jason the room and encouragement he needed to be a part of your life again. As if he were a scared cat, and not a six-foot-something giant with the wrong kind of bodycount.

You try again, but it doesn’t come out any more cordial. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

Jason raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting that. He also wasn’t expecting you to look so…grown up. His gaze flickered over you, over the short skirt and lace trimmed cardigan you were wearing. Over the way you applied that mascara and eyeliner with practiced skill and patience.

You were beautiful. God damn it, Bruce.

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you falter. His unreadable stare pulls the plug on your brat-ittude. A sigh escapes you.

“I’ll be careful, Jay. I promise.” You mumble, capping your eyeliner with finality as you give into this game of house he insisted on playing with you. When your eyes finally flicker up to meet his again, something in them seems…changed. The expression he wears is no longer unreadable. You recognize it, but can’t seem to place it. It’s been a long time since he’s seen you, but it’s been just as long since you were able to get a good look at him, too.

And then it’s there, again. The guilt and shame that coils within you as you notice the way his arms bulge under the brown leather of his jacket, the set of his strong jaw and the pout of his full bottom lip. You want to bash your head against your vanity. Tonight was supposed to be your night to get away from this feeling. To distract yourself with normal boys that weren't off limits. To cure yourself of the way you instantly became distracted whenever your brothers were near.

Adoptive brothers, you remind yourself inwardly. But you know that fact doesn’t make you feel any less fucking gross.

For as much as you appreciated some of the upsides of puberty hitting you like a train, there were some notable downsides, too. Inappropriate attraction to the other gorgeous men that live in this house aside, you’d found yourself concerned with things you had always prided yourself on being above. The way you gravitated towards more flattering clothes and cuter underwear, your proclivity for flavored lipgloss and this…overwhelming desire to feel attractive had you feeling so unlike yourself that it was hard to embrace the change, let alone enjoy it. Sometimes, the process of becoming a woman often felt like you were being beat with a pretty pink nightstick.

It takes you a moment to realize you’ve been quiet for a strange amount of time. And the knowledge that he has too makes you tense in places you didn’t know you could.

“Besides,” You continue, though too much time has passed to really consider it a continuation of your promise. “I’ve got backup.”

Swiveling around in your vanity’s chair, you don a self satisfied smirk as you slip the hem of your skirt up your thigh just a smidge, exposing the knife holstered to your thigh.

Jason’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. He wasn’t expecting that of all things. Not the sight of you, gorgeous and young and supposedly retired from this whole vigilante thing having a butterfly knife strapped to your leg. He wasn’t expecting the thrill he was getting just by looking at it, and how much he wanted to see it in use.

What is wrong with me?

He clears his throat to regain his composure.

“Where the hell did you get that?” He asks, his voice rougher than before.

“Where do you think?” You can’t help but laugh, tugging the hem of your skirt back down. Your sharp tongue gets him hot under his collar in a way he is beyond not proud of.

Still, he joins you, letting out a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a snort. The moment brings about a sense of familiarity, the conversation finding a groove it hasn’t been able to since before he had died.

Clearing his throat again, he has to fight against the heat threatening to rise in his face- unable to do much about the blood rushing south. “Look. I know it’s not my place, just…I’m concerned. About you going outside wearing…” The way he vaguely gestures to your outfit with his hands makes you forget he’s supposed to be some kind of sharpshooter.

“I’m…going on a date.” You finally answer, offering an olive branch. Maybe the truth really will set you free. From this cage of Wayne Manor, from the clear gloss, sensible shoes and frumpy skirts that were good for your optics, whatever the fuck that meant. Jason was in your shoes, once. Under the microscope of society, young and repping the name of an entire family on your back. You hope he can relate, and give you some grace. So you lay it on. Thick.

“Do you like it? It’s pretty much brand new. I never get to wear it, because there is no way dad would ever let me out dressed like this.”

Jason nods slowly.

He likes more than your outfit.

“You’re going on a date.” He turns it over in his mind. It seems his suspicions were correct. “And…Bruce doesn’t even know?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that. As if you told him where you were sneaking off to when you were my age. And don’t you dare say it was different or whatever bullshit you’re about to-“

Jason crosses the room to your still seated form before you can finish, stepping into your personal space and placing a hand under your chin. He lifts it gently, and tries not to absolutely lose it at the way you look up at him from beneath your lashes.

“Where is he taking you?” Jason asks, his voice low and rough.

You do your best to beat back that feeling again. The warmth in your core is persistent, but you’ve had a few years of practice surpassing it. Digging your nails into your palm, you try not to observe how handsome he looks, even now, with that spark of disapproval in his gaze. Focusing hard, you manage not to bite your lip at his tone.

“Drive-in.” The truth slips from you quickly, and quieter than it would have several minutes ago, when you couldn’t smell his cologne. You lean into his touch imperceptibly. “And then there’s a party we might stop by.”

“Drive-in?” Jason repeats, his eyebrows arching. “Like, a literal movie drive-in? Do those places still actually exist?” His fingers tighten, his thumb rubbing against your chin- dangerously close to the fullness of your bottom lip. There’s no way you could miss the way his eyes devour your face. And drop to your lips.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm, dropping your chin ever so little, kissing his thumb. “They’re popular spots. Sitting in your car with your date. Alone, in the dark.”

“God, you’re killing me right now.” His heart pounds as your lips touch his thumb, but makes no move to pull it away. His fingers grip your chin a little tighter. His other hand comes to your neck, the pads of his fingers brushing over it gently. “You’re just begging to be kissed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” the word escapes you breathlessly. It’s so fucking embarrassing. You can’t help it. That you care so much about your hair, that your showers are extra long and that you’re so horny all the fucking time now because living in his house is like being in the Olympic village- constantly surrounded by beautifully sculpted people. It was beyond difficult, even if you were now counted among them.

Jason doesn’t care that your door is cracked open or if anyone could walk in and see you. He drops one hand off of your chin, and the one tracing your pulse trails back and up into your hair, forgetting himself as he fists the strands and tugs it back.

“God, look at you.”

It’s all he can manage before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. The discovery of your flavored lipgloss sets off a wave of possessiveness in him when he thinks that some other punk was planning to savor the taste. He wants it to be just for him.

You kiss him back before you can think about it. You’re touch starved and aching, barely thinking straight as he lifts you into his arms with his impossible strength and picks you up as if you weigh less than nothing. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. Breaking the kiss, your hands find his face, thumbs brushing over the scars on his cheek. “Forgot how strong you are, Jay.”

He lays you across the bed with one swift motion and kneels between your legs as his large hands roam your thighs. You know for a fact that your skin is soft and smooth. Your Everything Shower routine was of the gods.

“You’ve grown up, baby bat.”

His dark eyes bore into you, the old nickname rolling off of his tongue with ease. It no longer brings an irritated flush to your face the way it did when you were still playing with dolls. For a moment, he’s reminded of the fact that he was here to try and step into that role again. To be the brother that keeps you from making the sort of dumb mistakes he had been known for at your age, and not to touch you- but you’re so soft and so sweet. There’s no pity in your eyes, or fear of the monster he used to be. He can't decide if he wants to cherish you or ruin you, but he's greedy enough to try and get away with both.

Manicured fingers twitch to the front tie of your lace cardigan. The edge of the ribbon rests between your forefinger and thumb before you slowly pull, releasing the bow. You reveal your bare, ample chest to him as you agree breathlessly. “Yeah,”

Jason bites his lip at the sight of your chest. A deep sense of satisfaction fills him as you reveal yourself to him, and the hand on your thigh rises slowly, stopping at your hip. He lets out a soft groan as he promptly resumes to think with the wrong head.

Catching his gaze, you drag your nails down his chest, fingers stopping at his belt. Tilting your head, you don’t bother to look as you work on undoing the buckle and pull it free from the loops of his pants. “Jay,” You whisper.

“Don’t call me that.” His voice is low, his gaze still boring into yours. “It makes me…feel a certain type of way.” Tilting his head back a little, he lets out another soft grunt when he feels you working open the front of his pants. His eyes fall shut. He seems to be on the verge of something, no doubt attempting to convince himself to stop before the two of you do something you can’t take back.

“What if I want you to feel that way?” You ask, dipping your hand beneath the open waistband of his pants, your soft fingers brushing against his swelling cock.

“Jesus Christ.” Releasing a deep breath, he looks down at you. His hand travels up to your throat, fingers digging into your skin.

“Please.” You finally just beg him, your bare chest heaving as you attempt not to squirm with the anticipation. “Please, Jay. Please.” How long has it been, since you were touched? Yeah, you were gorgeous, and fairly popular at school, but being involved with the precious daughter of the ‘prince of Gotham’ was often too risky for a lot of the guys at school. With you, they couldn't get away with half of the things they could with some of the other girls you know. And then there’s Jason. Someone she’s known for a good chunk of her life. Someone she trusts, someone she’s mourned, and most importantly- someone who is not afraid of Bruce Wayne.

The dying embers of his resolve are snuffed out the minute you shift your hips, that too short skirt riding up and revealing your absolutely soaked panties. And fuck, has he even touched you yet?

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, sweetheart. I got you.” Jason leans over you, one hand supporting himself by your head as the other drags your underwear to the side. Two of his calloused fingers stroke your slippery folds, covering his hand in your warm slick before he fists his thick cock.

He brings the blunt head of him close to you, stroking your clit before it brushes against your core. “Relax for me, sweetheart. You gotta let me in.” He murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Hold onto me.”

You do. Your fingers dig into his strong shoulders as he finally manages to push into you with a long suffering groan. You’re no virgin, but you’re half his size, and so, he bets, was every other chump you had before him. And from the way your walls quiver and stretch around him? He also bets that list is pretty short.

“ ’S okay, princess,” He breathes, his pupils blown wide. It takes everything in him not to pin you down and absolutely destroy you, but he reminds himself that your desperation does’t equal experience. You can act as fast as you want, you still need time to adjust to him.

“Oooh, fuck.” Jason hisses, his nails digging into the sheets beside you as he somehow manages to bottom out. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You can feel his shoulders tense under your palms, and your soft hands slip down his biceps until you’re holding his forearms. You’re so tight it’s criminal, and he can’t even focus as he begins to thrust into you.

His name sounds magical coming from your lips, and you look so gorgeous beneath him, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he fucks you hard and deep and bare. Your cunt is noisy and desperate, sucking him deep into your impossible warmth, covering every inch of him in your slick. His hand finds your throat again, and he can feel the way you squeeze around him in response. He groans complete delight. “You like that? Huh?”

Something akin to a yes escapes you as he begins to fuck you harder, the wood of the antique bed frame creaking in protest as your distant sort-of-stepbrother practically folds you in half, seemingly unable to get deep enough inside of you. Jason is a complete mess above you as you all but melt into your sheets, fingers tangled in the linens as each deep thrust forces a desperate whine from your parted lips.

“Such a perfect little cunt. So warm and fuckin’ wet-“ His free hand greedily palms at your tits as a string of other obscenities that make your clit throb begin to fall from his lips. He finds a spot deep within you that makes your toes curl and your walls tighten, and he grips your hips for leverage as he abuses it relentlessly. The difference between you is such that he barely has to shift his hand from your thigh to have his thumb roll over your clit shortly after you feel him spit on it, the oddity and the sudden stimulation forcing your back to arch.

There’s a part of him that hasn’t yet forgiven Bruce for leaving him to die, and that part greedily soaks up the sight of you coming undone beneath him, your tits bouncing as your back arches off of your bed. You may be barely an adult, but you’re still Bruce Wayne’s little girl, too precious for combat, but not too precious for Jason to spread you open on your pastel linens, under your daddy’s roof. You cream around his cock as your greedy walls threaten to milk him but he refuses to let up, determined to bully another orgasm out of you before he’s through.

“Tell me you want it,” Of course he knows you do. You’re the one who practically scrambled for his belt the minute he got you onto the bed, but it’s not enough to see it. He wants to hear you say it. To beg for him His voice is hoarse. Desperate. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” You manage, barely able to get the words out. “Want you, I want you-“ His nails bite into your thigh and you can hear the blood rushing to your ears.

“Jason,” You look up at him through your lashes, tears of pleasure collecting in the corners of your pretty eyes. He mumbles your name in return, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

“Get off in me.”

“Fuck!” His orgasm hits him like a train almost instantly, and he grinds into you needily with a disbelieving groan, filling you up. Your eyes nearly roll back as you come undone around him, and you’re not even though your orgasm before he lets out a barely coherent whine that sounds like it could be ‘good girl’ or ‘dirty fucking tease’. Your mind is spinning too much to make sense of anything and you decide take your pick, leaning back into your nest of plush blankets and pillows.

“Shit,” You breathe, exhausted.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jason allows himself to roll off of you, the bed creaking with impact as he collapses beside you with an uneven exhale. You close your eyes and try to catch your breath, hearing the shifting of his tactical pants beside you as he tucks his cock away. He casts a sidelong glance at you, swallowing before he can think of something to say. “That…you were okay with that, right?”

It takes a good moment to register the words, and you blink your eyes open. Turning to your side, you meet his gaze. You’re both sweating, and you feel decidedly un-sexy with his cooling cum leaking out of you. “What…what are you asking me?” You frown.

Jason tilts his head towards you. “It’s just…you know. What I was like before you uh…grew up.” His thoughts trail off, and his face creases with a frown as he tries to get through the next few words. “I just. I want to make sure…” A deep breath. Another heartbeat. “I can be rough, is all.” His expression softens, and guilt begins to seep in. You may live under this roof, but you aren’t like him. Not really. You were the soft one. The normal one. And that makes him feel equal amounts of pride and shame when he thinks about what you two have just done.

“Hey,” You recognize that shame, and you decide to put a stop to it before he overflows with it. “I may not spend my nights being tossed around by thugs anymore, but Gotham is rough. Our life is rough.”

Reaching out, you rest a hand over his heart, feeling the heat of him through his shirt. “But…being here…like this- with you? Being roughed up doesn’t have to suck.” Sitting up, you offer him a smile. “In fact, it felt so good I came twice. So. You know.”

Your answer is honest, and he can’t help but chuckle as he moves to sit up with you. His hand moves to caress the side of your face. You lean into his hand, and his gaze softens.

“You’re so different than you used to be.” His words come out in a whisper, and his thumb traces your jawline. “I want to keep you safe from this. But…I like this side of you. I like what I can bring out of you.”

“It’s been a long time, Jay.” You mumbled, closing your eyes. "A really long time."

You open them when you feel the way his lips brush against your forehead. They linger there for a heartbeat.

The moment is cut shot when you can hear the pneumatic hiss of the downstairs grandfather clock as it swings open, no doubt your adoptive dad home from patrol. “Shit. Dad’s home,” You whisper, and Jason grumbles as he leans against the headboard to catch his breath, watching you sit up. “You sure know how to kill the mood.”

“Dude, I just let you unload in me. I am the mood. So like, zip it.” You huff, fixing your underwear. Jason, despite his casually annoyed exterior, is lighter on his feet than you’ve ever seen him as he moves to get off of your bed. He’s sneaking out of here like his life depends on it, but he has the feeling it actually might.

“See you at breakfast, Jay!” You call a little too loudly, snickering at the way he tenses up in fear. He makes sure to flip you off right before he disappears past the doorframe, and you walk over and shut it.

Looking over to your desk, you see the screen of your phone is lit up, flooded with half an hours worth of texts and missed calls.

Guess you missed your date.

I ain't scared of boys, but boy, you're a man And if anybody could, I'm sure you can For a girl this young, naive, and miserable

#v.fic #batfam x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world.

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it?

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing.

Even ghosts had more than you at this point.

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.”

You say nothing.

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together.

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too.

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?”

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.”

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?”

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?”

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer.

“Nope.”

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.”

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point.

“Can you recall what he looked like?”

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?”

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge.

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to.

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine.

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared.

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits.

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.”

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission.

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you.

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point.

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors.

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges.

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go.

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there.

This mission is going to go well.

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.”

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite.

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?”

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo.

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?”

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.”

“Inside or outside?”

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet.

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier…..

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.”

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.”

“Someone from your time as the soldier?”

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up.

“For revenge?”

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits.

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?”

“She didn’t like that name.”

“How did she get it?”

“Me.”

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?”

“Flower.”

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be.

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus.

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger.

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place.

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof.

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you.

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look.

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them.

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.”

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform.

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof.

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain.

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up.

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?”

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other.

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it.

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view.

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs.

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back.

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof.

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you.

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?”

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things.

“LET GO!”

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.”

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that.

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“

“Let me go!”

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.”

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier.

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.”

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have?

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane.

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long.

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did.

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you.

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you.

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons.

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?”

“Soldat.”

“What’s your real name?”

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?”

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more.

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow.

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features.

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.”

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father.

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?”

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go.

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed.

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth.

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care.

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it.

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved.

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger…..

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself.

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.”

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.”

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.”

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?”

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.”

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found.

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.”

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught.

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck.

He was going to puke, how many kids had…..

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.”

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you.

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes.

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you.

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name.

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first.

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list.

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.”

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.”

“What’s yours?”

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you.

“You don’t seem to like it.”

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him.

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing.

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become.

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw.

“Always. You?”

“With you my little flower? Always.”

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace.

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other.

“Do we have-“

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.”

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?”

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.”

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives.

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours.

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs.

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up.

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it.

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other .

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet.

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.”

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly.

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter.

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.”

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions.

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice.

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him.

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog.

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing.

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them.

“It seems like it went wrong…”

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap.

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.”

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later.

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house.

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love.

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep.

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm.

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them.

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes.

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off.

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely.

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future.

And for once you felt like…. You were home.

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact.

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him.

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore.

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place.

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch.

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together.

“Yes. We can. Your list?”

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on.

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story.

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again.

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods.

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars.

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding.

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly.

“It’s empty though.”

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door.

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.”

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?”

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits.

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles.

“But I will. Let’s go.”

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life.

“That sounds… amazing, flower.”

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back.

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you.

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs.

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides. John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally.

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back.

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?)

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together.

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same.

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you.

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him.

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.”

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in.

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming.

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm.

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer.

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off.

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart.

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart.

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side.

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces.

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both.

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit.

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water.

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud.

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment.

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going.

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air.

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze.

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding.

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t.

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind.

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on.

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car.

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening.

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car.

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well.

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam.

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train.

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability.

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need.

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing.

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good.

“I mean…. After this mission.”

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel.

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.”

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven.

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop.

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental.

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year.

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly.

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons.

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw.

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away.

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room.

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky.

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

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