#this is a lie I know the chain of events that are to follow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetriumphantpanda · 3 months

Text

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

#Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fic #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike au #pedro characters #pedrostories

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radio-writes · 21 days

Note

For the event, would something like this work?

"You won

I didn't deserve any of this

This will be the last time you lie to me"

But There's Something Latching Onto My Throat

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Cannibalism, minor character deaths, blood, manipulation

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way

MDNI

"Oh don't you look so cute down there, my dear. Green really is your color." It was hard not to miss the mockery in Alastor's tone as he looked down at you from the bed.

You kept your head down, hands balled into fists as you glared at the glowing green chains cuffed around your wrists.

"You really ought to know your limits, dear. And I say this for your sake, of course!" The demon continued, a red claw coming down to play with the chain. "I mean, did you really think you had a chance in the first place? You really are so cute, I could almost eat you." He laughed at his own sick joke.

Your gaze followed the chain as it swayed lightly; from the cuffs around your wrists, to the bedpost it was tied to, to the red finger it wrapped around.

You finally meet Alastor's gaze, his smile calm and mocking as he lied on the bed, feet kicking childishly in air. You could feel your blood boiling as you tried to hold your tongue.

"But no, I couldn't possibly do that to you, my dear." He didn't really seem to care that you just sat there glaring at him from the floor. "Besides, I'm still quite full, you know, having just eaten your little friends and all."

Your jaw clenched, nails digging into your palms as you tried to hold yourself back. You tried hard not to think about them. How they heard you were still alive, how they spent months scheming to try to help you escape.

How they struggled to their last breaths as this horrid man dropped them into his mouth.

"Oh, their screams of terror made such perfect tunes to accompany my meal." Alastor sighed contently. "And don't get me started, on how crunchy their bones were. Except for that heavier fellow, no, he was rather chewy—"

"Enough!"

The sound of your own voice surprised even you.

Your body had moved almost on it's own. You had stood up, yanking at your wrists. The chain pulled Alastor forward by the link he played with.

"You won, Alastor. I get it." You hissed at him, glaring down at the demon that held you captive with as much fury as you could muster.

Alastor's eyes were wide for a moment, before he started laughing just a second later. He moved to sit up, "Now, I don't see what you're so angry about. You're the one that put your friends on the line, not me."

"The bet was if I lost I'd never see them again! Not that you would—" You tried to fight back the bile that rose to your throat, "eat them!"

Alastor rolled his eyes as if he found your outburst to be far too overdramatic. "You weren't specific enough, that isn't my fault, my dear."

"You're sick." You snapped at him.

"And you're being unfair, my darling." Alastor said.

"I haven't ever done anything unprompted. You're the one that came to me to sell your soul. You're the one that snuck out. You're the one that insisted we make a bet, instead of just accepting your punishment." Each time he blamed you he gave the chain he held a harsh tug. "And you're the one that placed your friends' lives as prizes."

Alastor remained sat on the plush bed, seemingly as relaxed as ever as he continued to play with the chains in his hands. "If anything, I have been more than fair to you, my dear."

You were far too close to him than you would have ever liked to be. At this distance, you couldn't even try to hide the tears that stung in your eyes as he spoke. You weren't sure anymore if it was from anger, indignation, or just the sheer overwhelming grief over all you've lost to this man.

"Fair? You've been fair to me? You sold me out to fucking Valentino, I had no choice but to beg for your protection!" You didn't even care anymore that your voice shook as you spoke.

Alastor waved a hand in your direction, as if physically brushing off your words. "I'm sure you had plenty of other options besides begging me to take your soul, but we can agree to disagree, I suppose."

You almost snarled at him.

"You've locked me up in this god forsaken radio tower for decades!" You yanked back at your hands, standing up straighter as you looked down at him.

"For your protection, of course." Alastor only smiled wider—and it sickened you.

You felt like the room was getting smaller, the air a little thinner.

"You've kept me from everyone I cared about, half the people I knew thought I was dead!" Your voice rose in volume, your heart pounded so loudly you swore you could hear each beat.

"I thought if I behaved, if I just did what you said, if I just followed you, you'd let me go already! But I- I—" You could feel the hot blood rushing through body, every nerve on edge, every cell singing.

And then it was quiet; you couldn't feel anything at all.

Your shoulders slump and your eyes fall to the glowing green cuffs that bound your wrists.

"I don't deserve any of this." You said softly.

A hum cut through the silence, soft static coming back to life.

"You are correct to some degree, my darling. You don't deserve any of this pain, this suffering." Alastor said, bringing your attention back to him.

There he sat, just as he was, unbothered by your shouting.

"You don't deserve scum of the earth pretending to be your friends while they try to lure you back into Valentino's well...office." His fingers playfully danced up the chain he held. He didn't meet your eyes as he grinned down at it.

"What?" You felt just a tiny bit unsteady, his words hadn't fully sunk in yet.

"Oh, you know I'd do anything to protect you, my darling. Plus, it's my half of the bargain after all, to keep you safe and away from that stupid moth's hands." Alastor met your unsure eyes. He finally stood up, the chain clinking in his grip as he closed the space between you.

"When I heard that a group of lowly sinners planned to con my dear partner into a new contract, I didn't worry much." He leaned down closer to your height so your dazed watery eyes can see him more clearly.

"After all, I thought better of you. You had to be smart enough not to fall for something so dull. Something so poorly planned."

He slowly walked behind you, circling around you in a familiar way that almost made you want to shrink away and hide.

"But no, I suppose that was a mistake on my part. I hadn't taken into account how desperate you had gotten for company. You'd even cling onto whores who called you every insult under Hell's hot sun."

You see your friends, smiles wide, relieved, when they first saw you again. The rumors were true, you were alive. They could free you.

"They'd never." Your voice spoke out on its own, but it was soft. So soft that you doubted Alastor even heard it.

"Oh, what was it they called you? A bimbo, a slut, a whore?" He counted off on his fingers as he went on. "I'm pretty sure they said something about you being just an entertaining hole at some point—"

We'll get you out of there. We'll keep you safe.

"They would never say any of that." Your voice was louder now, just a little bit surer.

He finally stopped walking when he was in front of you again. He brought his hand up, knuckles gently caressing your cheek, barely grazing your skin.

The touch almost snapped you back to life. His soft touches, almost loving, had never once been genuine.

He was lying.

"Oh, but they did! Believe me, I was as shocked as you were. The vulgarity of it all—"

There was a sound of metal clinking, a struggle, bodies hitting the floor.

"This is will be the last fucking time you lie to me, Alastor."

You glared at him below you, the green chains tangled and wrapped around his neck as his claws gripped at it.

"I will not let you turn me against the few people I cared about. Double dead or not." You yanked your wrists back, causing the chains around Alastor's throat to tighten.

"Why you ungrateful little wretch." Alastor snarled, his eyes had gone black and you stared down defiantly at radio dials.

"Do you really want all of Hell to hear you begging for mercy?"

Static prickled against your skin.

The room was steadily growing darker, shadows creeping around you as you kept the demon pinned down on the floor. His antlers grew as he smiled wickedly up at you.

"Try it." You dared him, unwavering.

"And I will use every last breath to tell everyone in Hell about that pretty little collar around your neck."

You swore you heard him growl at you, felt his chest vibrating beneath your body.

You pulled at your restraints again. Alastor's claws scratched at his own skin as he grasped at the glowing metal, trying to keep it from crushing his throat.

You matched his stupid grin with one of your own.

Sure, you absolutely might die tonight. But seeing the great Radio Demon brought down to the floor, his own leash choking him, was just the perfect parting gift.

You leaned down closer, the tip of your nose brushing against his as his warm breath washed over your skin.

"Green, is absolutely your color too, Al."

#tw: cannibalism #tw: minor character deaths #follower event #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #gn!reader #vien writes #Alastor being an absolute glutton is another fave gender of mine #of course his bougie ass is a foodie of course it is

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m-1-nty · 3 months

Text

Locked up by lies: A story of unfair jams

Pairing: Wriothesley x Reader

Cw: shameless smut, reader has female anatomy, spanking, handcuffs, fingering, oral sex, penis in vagina, wrio is in his 40s so slight age gap, but you will have to squint to notice it, desk sex, office sex, I'm bad at writing smut,,

A/N: i need him carnally

Fontaine is a land known widely for its breathtaking waterways, lush greenery, amazing architectural designs, and peculiar laws - a well-known facet among its citizens. If you have ever occupied the coveted front rows at the Opera Epiclese, where a fellow citizen received a jail sentence merely for indulging in a slice of cake favored by the Archon, you, too, possess a thorough understanding of these peculiar laws.

So what is the reason for the current events? Being unceremoniously hauled from the comfort of your house wasn't part of your envisioned evening routine. Two imposing guards, one to your left and the other to your right, effortlessly suspend you in the air as you thrash and scream. The guards' eardrums likely resonate with the pleas for respite as much as your own desperate cries. The imposing entrance to the Fortress of Meropide looms ahead as your screams for help intensify.

“STOP THIS, PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW. I DEMAND A HEARING!”

Ah yes, a hearing. A trial.

Something every non-law-abiding citizen has to go through.

Except you. Which is unfair, to say the least.

As you reach the end of the stairs, your eyes feast upon tons of metal that your friend, Charlotte would kill to see. Mental notes are made to vividly recount the interior to her once this ordeal is over – assuming there’s an end in sight.

Wishful thinking.

You contemplate the duration of your sentence for a crime you deny committing. Your body, fatigued from the futile struggles, slumps wearily as it follows the guards. The chain snug around your neck serves as a cruel reminder that fleeting to the surface is not an option. They stop at what you would think is a receptionist's desk, handing off documents with your crime most likely written on them in exchange for a key for your room number.

My bad.

Your cell number. 9278.

It seems the crime you don’t seem to remember was so atrocious that they had to throw you in a smelly, damp cell – residing in the company of the nation’s most notorious criminals. One of the guards unlocks the gate of your cell as the other forcefully throws you in, making you land with an “oof” as you hit the unforgiving ground. They lock the gate and start leaving. Getting up from your spot on the cold stones, you grip the bars of the tiny window and start yelling after the men.

“HEY MAN! NOT COOL. CALL MY DAD IMMEDIATELY. I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO I AM! WHEN HE FINDS OUT YOU WILL TAKE MY PLACE IN THIS CELL, YOU HEAR ME!”

The guards exchange words just out of your reach, erupting into sudden laughter that echoes through the corridor. Their laughs then slowly die out as they walk further away from your cell leaving you shivering in the dark. The sounds of water droplets somewhere in the near distance.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness they pick up a small mattress on the floor. Without hesitation, you crawl toward it, disregarding any hint of mold and dampness. You lie down, curling up in an attempt to stop your shivering body. As you lay in the personal solitary confinement cell of your dreams, a deep feeling of loneliness kicks in as tears start to dampen the already wet mattress.

In this desolate realm, time adopts a different pace. Each passing moment is an eternity, an unyielding testament to the betrayal of truth and the erosion of hope. The confines of your cell are suffocating, a shroud of darkness enveloping every corner. The absence of natural light at the bottom of the sea mocks the innocence you cling to, casting fear into the depths of your soul.

Days, or even maybe weeks have passed since you started inhabiting your confining abode. Not a single person has passed to give out food and water, nor do you hear someone in the cells around you. The silence, punctuated only by the distant echoes of machinery, amplifies the fear growing in your stomach. The meager rations dispensed by a small, mechanized contraption outside your cell door are your only touch with the world so far.

The haunting thought lingers: what if abandonment is your fate, just like the prisoners around you, whom you haven’t heard a sound from since you came?

After what seemed like an eternity, faint footsteps approached. Still groggy from your afternoon nap, or was it already night, you could hardly tell, you assumed it was your brain playing tricks on you. Yet, the unmistakable jingle of keys heralds a glimmer of hope right outside your door. You jolted awake as the first light in what must be weeks lit up the small cell. A guard was standing tall and brooding on your doorstep.

“Get up, inmate. His Grace wants to see you.”

You’ve heard stories of the infamous Duke overseeing the Fortress. If the rumors held any truth, keeping ‘his grace’ waiting was not a gamble you dared to take. Quickly, summoning all that’s left in you, you got up on your feet and started following the guard.

As you made your way to the main office, the surroundings revealed a stark contrast. The bustling scene around you depicted people, no, other prisoners, dressed in ordinary attire, engaged in casual conversations, wiping sweat from their foreheads after a day’s labor, or savoring their meals. Their seemingly mundane lives sharply juxtaposed your cruel fate.

When the impeding, tall doors of the office stood in front of you, a bead of cold sweat started trickling down your forehead. The fear evident in you went unnoticed until you took your first steps into the room. The guard continued to walk up the stairs, with you shortly behind him.

“I’ve got the girl, sir. Inmate 9278.” – the guard reported, positioning himself behind you.

The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide stood before you. If there were answers to be found for your wrongful arrest, they were to come from him.

“Ah, thank you. You can leave us alone now.” – the duke dismissed the guard as he got up from the chair he was previously sitting in. Walking around his desk, he leaned on it as his cold gaze shot straight to you. “Hello there, Y/N L/N. Daughter of the famous F/N L/N. You probably are so confused now, would you like some tea to calm your nerves? Sigewinne can whip you some in no time.”

What?

His stance exudes an undeniable air of authority, his presence felt hard in this room. The duke's towering stature, both physically and metaphorically, demands attention and respect. And boy does he have yours. Yet, underneath his cold gaze and aura, he is a genuinely caring person. You’ve heard of the duke's likeness of tea. Amid the demanding responsibilities of his role, the duke finds solace in a simple yet cherished ritual – enjoying a cup of tea. So, you take up his offer for tea. He smiles a little as he presses a button on a microphone.

“Sigewinne, be a dear and bring me two cups of tea.”

Even after witnessing his softer side if you can describe it as that, you don’t dare to move from the place you took when you first came in. The chair near you attracted you as if one of you was south and the other a north pole. You silently pray the duke is kind enough to offer it to you.

“My apologies, miss L/N, for making you wait a few days before calling you here. Had some urgent business outside the fortress. But as soon as I caught wind of your case I hurried back. So tell me, do you know why you are here? Or are you just dying to find out?”

His voice had a hint of amusement to it, suggesting he had relished the anticipation.

“Please, dear Duke, enlighten me as to what terrible crime, I, a daughter of the royal house of L/N, could commit?”

Who knows where that confidence came from, but you were sick of plain bread and sleeping on a damp mattress. You missed your lavish lifestyle, watching trials at the opera, eating the best cakes, wearing fancy clothes that don’t smell like rat piss.

Now he looked even more excited, his grin widening. Given his status and the current location, which is a prison, you don’t see many reasons to flash his pearly whites at you. His next response was delivered with a strange casualness as if narrating a children’s story while idly playing with his handcuffs.

“My, my, what attitude. Well, I won't keep it a secret anymore. You're innocent. It's your father that’s the problem, young missy. He was found guilty of taking part in a serial disappearance case. Children around Teyvat were kidnapped or bought and all were stationed here in Fontaine. More specifically, your house. Which makes you an accomplice, hence why you are here. I'm honestly surprised that you didn’t notice your new staff members were always different. It isn’t just you if that makes you feel better, he put them across all his properties, figured that he didn’t have to pay them, and made a ton with selling them around other rich assholes such as him.”

…

The revelation hung heavily in the air, and you reacted with disbelief.

“What are you talking about?! My father would never do that, he loves children. Someone must be framing him. Where is he now!? Meet with his lawyer and you'll see this is just a big misunderstanding.”

Sitting down on the chair, you release a breath you didn’t notice you were holding. This was all too much yet so little information. Did your father receive a trial, or was he similarly dispatched to jail, mirroring your own predicament?

“He is in a top security prison in Snezhnaya. They captured him right on the spot as he and his men were receiving a fresh batch of teens on the border. I just sad you were roped into th-“

“Why didn’t I get a trial?! I would have told you everything, the Oratrice would have labeled me innocent and I could have avoided sleeping next to rats in that shit hole!”

At this point, every piece of belief you cling to about the justice system in your homeland was starting to crumble, and the realization sets in that not only your life but also that of your entire family has been irreparably shattered, assuming they were as unaware as you were.

“Because we dealt with this case as we deal with the other serious ones. In the shadows. We skip the theatrics. Those people don’t care for you or your father, they would have yawned and laughed at your stupidity. So instead of getting heated why don’t you cal- Oh! Sigewinne, you brought our teas. Thank you, nurse. Y/N, this is Sigewinne, the head nurse here. If you get hurt or feel bad during your stay here, feel free to visit her.”

Grateful for the interruption, you’re relieved to have a reprieve from the escalating tension with the duke. His voice was growing louder, and the prospect of facing angry administrator was something you wished to avoid. I will be better to be on his nice side.

“Hello, miss Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I would love to show you around but there was an accident at the production zone so I have to quickly go back and fix up my patients. See ya!”

With Sigewinne’s departure, the only remnants are the lingering aroma of herbal tea and the weighty silence.

Deciding to prolong your stay outside the rat hole that is your cell, you ask – “So how long will I be staying here? You said you were sad I was roped into this, meaning you also think or know I'm innocent.”

“You’ve got some sharp ears, doll face. Well, I can't say for sure how long your sentence is. It all depends if you are innocent. Your case is being examined by monsieur Neuvilette as we speak, so if you are lucky I'd give you a couple of days. Why? Wanna leave? Don’t you like the fortress?” His teasing tone doesn’t escape your notice, and his eyes lock onto your as he takes a casual sip of tea.

The glint in his eyes is both playful and alluring, sending a shiver down your spine. A blush graces your cheeks, but you chalk it up as a side effect of the warm tea shared between you two.

Your stay at the office continued for an hour, sharing some information back and forth, him filling you in on the rules and regulations of the prison. Sadly, you didn’t manage to convince him to upgrade your suite to a dorm, but that won't stop you from trying next time.

As he leads you down the stairs towards the exit, you sense his lingering gaze on your back. The butterflies in your stomach return.

“You can go visit Sigewinne, she must be done with her patients by now. She will give you a fresh batch of clothes and show you to the showers. Off you go now, don’t go causing any trouble, I have eyes everywhere, sweetie.” - he said and closed the huge doors, leaving you a flustered mess right outside them. How did he make his last statement both equally hot and creepy at the same time? You were conflicted, were you turned on or terrified?

After some time, you successfully navigated your way to the nurse’s office, using the map that Wriothesley had drawn for you. Sigewinne, while finishing her work, attentively listened as you explained the duke’s instructions. She agreed, and soon both of you were making your way towards the showers. Post-shower, you found yourself changing into a nightgown that felt oddly familiar – it was yours.

How did this get here?

“His grace wanted you to feel more comfortable staying here, so he went to your house and handpicked some clothes for you.”

The revelation made your ears burn, the thought of the duke rummaging through your personal items sending a flush of embarrassment through you.

You bid farewell to Sigewinne as the guard assigned to you took you back to your cell. This time at least he didn’t push you in. You noticed there was a little candle that lit up the room. And from that small light, you notice that your mattress has been changed to a dry, nicer one. You sighed, laying down on it, recalling all the information that was dumped on you today. As you lay on the ground, you still feel like the lowest of lows, but hey that’s what you get for having a piece of shit father.

Weeks passed, each day blending into the next, yet there was no sign of your release or any update on your case. The routine was monotonous: wake up, work, linger in the main area, and return to your cell. And repeat.

Sometimes you'd be called up for tea by the duke. In the beginning, the interactions were casual, filled with polite exchanges and friendly banter. At first, it was seemingly just insignificant moments – a shared smile, a fleeting glance every time you came across each other on accident. Each encounter sparked a subtle yet undeniable chemistry between you, leaving the air thick with unspoken words and lingering glances.

Whether it’s a chance encounter, a shared moment, or lingering glances, these moments leave you with thoughts that keep you up all night. Conversations were laced with double entendres, innuendos, and veiled expressions that left much unsaid. The frustration grew as these encounters started to interfere with your plans.

You had revenge plans to think up not stay up fantasizing about the duke!

Oftentimes, you found yourself teetering on the edge of restraint, your true desires momentarily surfacing before getting shoved and masked again.

Over the next weeks, the physical proximity and accidental touches became powerful instruments in the orchestration of your downfall. The magnetic pull you feel towards his grace is undeniable, every small encounter making you eagerly anticipate the inevitable moment when restraint gives way to desire.

All of this was getting in the way of your daily life. Every inch of your brain was captivated by him. As much as you hate to admit it you are starting to like your stay here.

You have had enough of this game of push and pull. It was time you put an end to your suffering. You were just hoping his feelings were mutual. A plan formed as you overheard inmates discussing a peculiar topic. It seemed that causing a ruckus or getting in trouble led to a direct audience with the duke himself for punishment and a lecture.

You found an odd pair, a traveler and a floating fairy person. Coincidentally, they usually took up shifts at the production zone at the same time you did, so you’ve shared a few meals and conversations with the pair. Quite enjoying their company and deciding that you trust them enough, you tell them your plan. Keeping the true intentions of your plan, you explain how things will go down. They both agree, saying – “Why not?”

So, the plan gets in motion.

Firstly, none of you will go to the production zone that day so you avoid being seen together. Then, at the right time, you will cross paths with the traveler, launching into an orchestrated attack – screaming and crying in a bid to attract attention. When you cause enough of a scene, the little fairy person you’ve found out is called Paimon, will start yelling and calling the guards, claiming you attacked them first out of nowhere.

Upon successfully being taken into custody, you’d send a discreet wink to your co-conspirators, signifying the success of the operation. It was a plan fraught with risk, but you were determined to put an end to your internal turmoil.

So, now that you have successfully gained the audience of the duke, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you might have made a grave mistake. The atmosphere in the room, unlike your first meeting, was tense and unwelcoming. It was clear from the duke’s expression and body language that he was furious, twirling his handcuffs while fixing a stern gaze upon you.

“Leave us.” – he commanded to the guards, his eyes never leaving your figure.

You’ve fucked up royally.

Panic set in as you realized the gravity of your actions. Maybe, just maybe you didn’t think this through. They did say that you will be punished by the duke and they did sound scared about the whole ordeal. The fear of dire punishments crossed your mind – being thrown to the dogs, enduring months without food or water. You just orchestrated your own demise for a crumb of attention from Wriothesley. Were the tea parties not enough for you?

Attempting to salvage the situation, you stammered, “I apologize. I can explain-“

“On the table.” – he demanded abruptly.

“Excuse me. What?”

Confusion and fear gripped you as you reluctantly approached the desk and sat on it, only to be corrected with a cold command to face the other way. At least you are glad you won't know how he decides to kill you. But, as fast as lighting, his hand was around your neck as he slammed you against the table and his other delivered a hard spank. Ouch. You knew he could pack a punch from the stories he has told you, but damn.

“Was that stunt a pathetic little cry for attention?” he questioned, his voice cutting through the tension.

You were caught red-handed.

“Answer me, inmate.”

Fearing that he might get even angrier with you for lying, opting for the truth instead.

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir.” – if you weren’t embarrassed before, you sure are now. He let out a small, breathy laugh. His hand was massaging the spot where he spanked you.

“Good choice not to lie, sweets.” – he remarked, giving your ass a few light pats. With swift movements, he began raising your nightgown to examine his damage. As humiliation consumed you, he noticed your lack of panties. Then, he took his hands off of you, one hand holding his temple while the other scratched his stubble.

“You sure were hoping for this, weren’t you? Sneaky, not even wearing panties, princess.”

Your cunt was now exposed to him. He surely noticed the wet trail caused just by one spank. Turning your head slightly on the table you saw that he was looking straight at your ass. Feeling very exposed to him, (as if that wasn’t your original plan) you pushed yourself up on your hands. Very quickly he returned you to your original pose.

“I didn’t say you can move, your highness.”

That earned you a few more spanks, making your right cheek as red as your face. He leaned closer, putting his left hand on the table next to your head as he towered over you. The stubble on his face rubbed against your neck as he bit your earlobe.

“I’ll let this one slide. But cause a scene again I'll make you regret it.” – he whispered innocently in your ear but all you could focus on was his hand playing with the fat of your ass and how his hand was moving ever so slightly towards your cunt. The atmosphere grew charged with desire, and you found yourself struggling to maintain composure.

You took a sharp breath as his cold fingers got to their destination, gathering some of the slicks and moving upwards to pay attention to your clit. “What would your family think of you right now, princess? Begging for attention from the duke. All you had to do was ask.” He said the last part in a whisper and then started to leave open-mouth kisses from your jawline down your neck.

His hand was working magic on your clit, his skilled fingers drawing out moans and whines. You also noticed a hardness poking you from behind, deciding to test your luck you press your ass against him, earning a grunt of satisfaction from him. His left hand circled your waist, making you stand upwards. Squeezing you tighter to him, his right hand continued his ministrations on your clit.

His soft lips were now attacking your neck. Wriothesley probably noticed your whines quickening and getting more high-pitched so he stopped his work on you. Redirecting his hand upwards and paying some attention to your tits.

Sighing, you let your head rest against his chest, looking directly at him. He looked majestic in this moment, cheeks flushed as he worked his magic on you.

Missing the warmth of your core, he dipped his fingers back down, this time slowly gathering slick and pushing one finger in. The thickness of his one finger filling you in was so much better compared to yours, as you tried to reach your peak almost every night in the dirty cell thinking of him.

Noticing he is in safe waters he puts another finger in, making you take in a deep breath. As he moves his fingers inside you, your moans start to get louder. Worried that there might be guards posted outside his office, you try to keep it quiet.

Not liking your silence, he moves his other hand on your clit, adding more stimulation and eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Don’t keep quiet, princess. Let them hear you taking your punishment, so, well.” he urged you.

His pace increases, making your legs start to give up. Searching for something to keep yourself up, you hold on to his forearms, fingernails making crescent moons on his skin.

“It’s too much, I can't, please.” – you could feel tears forming in your eyes from all the bright stars he was making you see.

“Surely you don’t want us to stop now, do you, angel? After working so hard to get in this position. Hm?”

Never faltering, his pace is bringing you close to your finish. Your walls clamping on his fingers, and your breathing growing erratic.

Suddenly, he pulled all his hands off of you, when he noticed you were almost to your end. No longer having his arms for support you fall on your knees. You turn your head upwards towards him and send him the meanest glare you could muster up right now.

He was laughing at you as his hands were working on unclasping his handcuffs from his belt. Next, he crouches down and grabs your arms and handcuffs them behind, on your back. Standing up and turning you to face him better, you are now face to face with the tent in his pants.

He proceeds to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants as he lets them fall to the ground. After taking his underwear off too, you can't seem to stop yourself from salivating just from the sight.

“Quit staring at me sweets, you are gonna make me embarrassed.” He smiled softly at you as he started to stroke his length, bringing it closer to your mouth. Taking up the cue, you prepare yourself to take him. Tapping his tip on your mouth, you open and take his head in. Groaning and without a warning, he grabbed the top of your head, pulling you to take more of him inside your mouth.

Struggling to fit him inside, your eyes start watering. Relaxing your throat as much as you can, you start bobbing your head up and down his shaft. When you looked up at him, his head was thrown back in ecstasy which urged you to go faster.

“Oh, Archons. You are doing so well for me, sweets. Keep going.” His small praise lit your core up. Detriment to be good for him, you try again to fit more of him inside you. He was grunting more and whispering praises left and right.

When you felt his dick twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. As you were preparing for his release, he suddenly removed your head from his dick. Grabbing you, like you weighed nothing, he placed you on the table and freed your hands from his handcuffs.

“You were amazing but I’d rather finish in you.”

Without any warning, he thrust himself in you. Looking straight into his eyes, with foreheads touching, both of you gasped for air, as if you were seeing the gates of Celestia. Firstly, he started slowly and sensually. You noticed that he was staring at your lips, so you took his face in your hands and brought it to your lips. The first kiss of the night was exceeding every fantasy of him you’ve had.

His pace then started to increase in speed, making you moan and whine in the kiss. Wrapping your legs around his waist only made him squeeze your hips even more, which will probably leave bruises as evidence of this night. Both of you were getting closer, as your moans got louder and louder. He then left your lips to go work on your nipples. He put one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it. One of his hands made its way down to your clit, intensifying your pleasure by lots. His ministrations were too much for you, white spots already appearing in the corners of your eyes.

“I'm close, please don’t stop, sir.” He looked up at you from his place at your chest, taking a mental photo of your face right now, hoping it would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

Never faltering and never intending to stop, he continued his rough pace. He was close himself, and when your walls started clamping around his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “C'mon, princess, cum around my cock, just like the slut you are. So desperate for me, she had to throw a fit.” – he said, grunting between words.

His degrading words helped you over the edge, prolonging your moan, your breathing unstable. He continued his relentless pace in you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. At this point you were a blabbering mess, saying stuff that sounded like something between his name and nonsense, and him overstimulating you was not helping.

Nearing his release, he let his head fall in the crook of your neck, biting your neck as he came undone inside you. Heavy breathing filled the room. The smell of sex was present in his office, you sure were hoping no one would walk in.

After a few moments, he began to take out his softening length. His seed coming out along with him. Taking his fingers, he pushed it back in. All you could do was watch him from your seat on the table, your legs too weak to move. When he noticed you staring at him, he looked up and smiled at you.

“You want some tea?”

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fontaine #genshin wriothesley #smut #wriothesley #reader insert #wrio x reader #wriothesley genshin #fanfic #fanfiction #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you

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acciocriativity · 8 months

Text

DIFFERENT AS BLACK AND WHITE - JYH (FROM THE 300 FOLLOWERS EVENT)

(Pictures are not mine, credits for the rightful owners)

Requested from anon

Thank you so much for the request 💕 This was so much fun to write, but damn it took me so long and I'm so sorry! I tried my best to make this bold cat black reader, but you guys let me know your thoughts!

Ateez Masterlist

You couldn’t blame the shock on anyone’s face whenever you and Yunho went out together in a friendly manner, even though it pains you to say it out loud. But it doesn’t mean it wasn’t annoying to notice it for the 150th time, someone whispering about the two of you behind your back in a restaurant nearby your office.

You took another deep breath as you played with the chains of your bag on your lap, a simple way to relieve stress that Yunho wouldn’t notice and wouldn’t ask about it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, you noticed his beautiful smile turn into a slight frown. “You’re pouting”.

There’s no way in hell that you are pouting, so you could only look at Yunho with the utmost outraged expression you could muster, but these days, it wasn’t much. That stupid motherfucker knows he makes you smile with a snap of his fingers.

“I’m not”.

“Oh really? So you are not looking like a pouty puppy right now for a reason you don’t want to tell me”.

“I’ll let slide the fact that you just called me puppy, what do you want to order?”, you held up the menu as you tried your hardest to keep yourself together.

He always knows somehow, but never pushes you more than you want to tell him. In his mind, someday you would open up to it, but that’s where he is wrong. You rather die than let your secret off your heart.

“You’re doing that again”, Yunho whined as he pushed the menu in your hands down.

You were surprised just as much as he was. That wasn’t thought through at all. Now, he was the one pouting, and you didn’t want anything else besides kissing it away, but you couldn’t, could you? You were paralyzed by the scene in front of you.

Yunho was mesmerizing without knowing. The way his blonde hair moved ever so slightly by the slow wind coming from the nearby windows, how his eyes would become little lines when he laughed and his ears would turn red as he lowered his head anytime you complement him.

He was so beautiful, and you were so frustrated that he would never think the same of you.

“Excuse me”, that same sweet voice that whispered how cute Yunho was behind you, sounded confident now. She stood beside your table, a nice smile on her face as she focused solely on him.

Fuck me, why does she have to be soo his type too?

Her good girl style matched perfectly with his husband material style. The epitome of the perfect girl for Yunho, which you always knew it wasn’t you. Sometimes you wondered if you just changed a little… then you remembered who you are and how you’d never do that, not even for him.

You wanted to throw yourself off the window as Yunho gave her a perfect polite smile, which was what a nice reasonable person would do, but you stopped caring about reasonable for a long time.

“I was just wondering… are you two on a date right now?”, she barely looked at you while saying that. “I don’t want to bother, if you are”.

“Yes, we are, so you can go back to whisper behind our back”.

It was a tough competition between who was more surprised, Yunho or the girl, yet you remained as calm and collected as you were, staring straight at her. Her smile fell so fast, her demeanor changing as quick as her confidence left her body.

It was a pleasing sight to watch, you couldn’t lie to yourself. Maybe if she wasn’t as dismissive of you, you could feel empathy and regret, but that was far from the case.

Yunho held in the waves of emotions going through him as the girl focused back on him, to confirm what you just said, in hopes maybe he would like her more somehow.

“I think your friends are calling for you”, Yunho said as he looked from the girl to the others behind your table.

She didn’t need another sign to excuse herself.

Yunho never stared at you with this much intensity, he wasn’t smiling. Your own confidence and poker face begin to slip up as you waited for him to say something, anything, even laugh at the scene that just unfolded.

Even if everything goes down hill with Yunho now, she also doesn’t get to be with him.

It’s a selfish thought, but it’s one that brings a tiny bit of comfort to your heart as you heard them all leave the restaurant.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His question made you want to scream. There was so much you never said, so much you didn’t want to say still, what does he know now? That you’re jealous of him? That you like him? That maybe you’ve been into him for some time? Then he doesn’t know anything at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me that people whispering about us bothered you?”

He wasn’t asking the right question and he knew it. But now you know that he heard it too, that he notices every time it happened too, and still never said anything about it.

Your eyes fell to the menu in your hands. You could barely think, but he was waiting for a real answer.

“It doesn’t”, you heard the scoff leaving his mouth. “It didn’t-”, you correct yourself. “It didn’t, but these people need a lesson to mind their own business, don’t you think?”, you looked up at him again, the walls around you raising again.

“I do”, he leaned on the chair, a smirk growing on his face. “So, we’re dating now?”

“Fine, tease me about this as much as you want”, you smiled to yourself, not a happy one, no, but a content enough smile. “It must be fun for you to have that much attention”, you didn’t want to sound bitter, but you were.

“But I only want your attention”. He didn’t even hesitate to say that. His eyes looking for yours, but you still refused to look him in the eyes. “Hey-”, his hand grabbed yours and held it into his as you let go of the menu. “Don’t you believe me?”

He leaned in, his face tilted to the side as he watched your every move. You felt burning hot with all of his attention on you, specially like this, like your answer, like you, could make his night or ruin it.

“Of course I believe you, but that doesn’t make a difference at the end of the day be-”, you looked up at him.

“Because you act like you don’t like me even if you do”, he interrupted you.

You both went silent, trying to decipher each other’s reactions.

“You only figured that out now?”.

Once again, you caught him off guard. Yunho expected at least a shy smile from you, but he was the one blushing. The thought of you liking him for a long time made his heart flutter.

“Are you going to show me how much you like you me now?”, he wet his lips, catching your attention to it.

That shut you up, and he smiled wide, clearly satisfied with himself.

“Since when did you get that bold?”, you couldn’t resist the urge to smile yourself.

“Oh, you know perfectly who did this to me, don’t even pretend like it wasn’t you”.

You kept the act, even thought you knew it was true. You never let Yunho’s parents dream about it, but you were the bad influence between the two of you since you two met, all of those years ago.

Then, you gestured for him to come closer to you, and he did in such a naive innocence, that almost made you feel bad about the things you said next.

“What about we go to your house, so I show you all the things I still want to do to you, hm?”

You left the restaurant with a clearly embarrassed, distraught and hurried Yunho pulling you to his car. You both didn’t have much time of your lunch break, but that didn’t mean Yunho wouldn’t use every single second of it to his advantage.

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez masterlist #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic #yunho headcanons

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aihoshiino · 17 days

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chapter 146 thoughts

This chapter (and thus this chapter review) contains discussion of abuse, suicidal ideation and CSA, so if you're not in the headspace for that, skip this one and I'll see you next time.

we are so oshi no back

After last chapter left me fighting for my life to come up with literally anything to say about it, this was one of those chapters where I ended up having more and more to say about it the more I turned it over in my head. It still feels a bit disjointed and has that same issue of ripping through the events of the movie way too fucking fast that the arc as a whole has been having lately but this chapter was such a breath of fresh air I can't bring myself to care.

The chapter itself is more or less split in two, with one half dedicated to 15 Year Lie's in-universe events and the other focusing a bit on Aqua and Kana for, tbh, the first time in way too long. Admittedly, my enthusiasm for 15YL has waned given the reveal of just how much of it is completely made up but like. I'm still gonna over analyze this stuff. Sunk cost fallacy, don't fail me now!!!!

I joke, but the 15YL section of this chapter was legitimately bone chilling. That barrage of cuts following Uehara's attack on Airi…. fuuuuuuuck, man.

Airi herself is pure fucking poison this chapter too and I mean it in the best way. I continue to be incredibly impressed with how OnK understands the motivations of a person like Airi what her abuse of Hikaru is really about. When discussing this in 141, Miyako points out just how often victims of abuse can themselves go on to perpetuate their own pain out of a need to try and regain their dignity, but I think what Airi seeks in her abuse of Hikaru is control. We see how often she wields her power over him while pretending that he has as much agency as she does in their """relationship""" and it's repeated here, too; she throws the results of her own sexual abuse of him in his face as a way of permanently chaining the two of them together, all while tearing down his worth as a person as if to 'prove' he deserves to be trapped in her grasp. I've said before that Akasaka is unsettlingly good at writing toxic mothers but I think Airi has made it pretty clear that Akasaka understands and is thus excellent at writing abuse and abusers in general, and for someone like me who counts that as one of their favourite Themes (tm) in fiction, I feel quite well fed.

The abuse Airi hurls at him is also interesting from a perspective of paralleling Hikaru even further with Ai. We saw snippets of this in 140, of Hikaru characterizing himself as someone desperately trying to construct a version of himself that can be loved by others the same way Ai creates 'Ai of B-Komachi', a version of herself who can give and receive love in the way she thinks her authentic self is unable to. Airi puts this into more explicit words; Hikaru must construct this fake version of himself because there is no 'real' him and thus, he is inherently unlovable. Jesus Christ.

Knowing those words were swimming around in his head, it makes the HKAI scene that follows even more of a gutpunch than it already is. It's the most wonderful kind of miscommunication tragedy - with their respective traumas, there is basically no other way a talk like that could have gone and yet it's agonizing to see it play out. Ai's innocent cruelty in the face of Hikaru's pain and her suffocating smile… the worst part is, while I completely understand why this was so shattering for Hikaru, it's impossible to miss that this was, in a way, an expression of love from Ai; it was honesty, an admission of vulnerability. She herself even says she doesn't want to lie to him. But to Hikaru, what else could that have sounded like but a confirmation of his most godawful fear?

that said. the timeline here is very confusing. this seems to imply hkai were still dating all the way up to the murder-suicide, which seemed to be just before the dome concert but did the breakup really seem that recent during their phone call?? this whole timeline is penised beyond repair.

The art in this chapter in general is incredibly good but something in particular I want to highlight is how much and how often Aqua-as-Hikaru looks like Ai in these panels. I can't put my finger on what it is, but that similarity always makes me feel so warm and sad whenever I see it. For as much as he struggles with his relationship to her, Aqua really is his mother's son through and through.

and. man. what even is there to say about that scene in the rain and everything that follows. I was't sure if the murder/suicide was going to be featured in the movie but even the brief snippet of it that we got and that barrage of scene titles and Kamiki's silent scream… whoof. shit like this makes me really hope we get to see mengo illustrate a horror manga someday because i think she would absolutely kill it.

We cut back to reality to see Aqua reading the script and in perhaps the most interesting swerve in this chapter, we see that he has once again reverted to his double black hoshigans. And uh, am I going to sound like a terrible person if I say I'm really glad for this? LOL.

Obviously I would rather Aqua not be experiencing Suicidal Ideation (Bass Boosted) 24/7, but it's kind of a relief to see that one single conversation wasn't enough to totally shake Aqua out of that headspace. I've talked a lot about how frustrating I find it that 'Ruby finds out Aqua is Gorou' is treated as the finale to her black hoshigan arc and every ongoing thread, internal and external, attached to it was dropped like a rock with no further interrogation. It robbed Ruby of the opportunity for some really important growth and, imo, was just shitty for Kana and Memcho who were treated extremely poorly by her and got no apology for it. I was really worried this would be the case for Aqua as well and that his own dip into that rancid headspace would end on a wet fart which would really sting given just how little insight we've gotten into him this arc. But this chapter makes it clear that while some cracks have started to form in his armor, he's not in the clear just yet.

i mean, even if he was permanently back to one white star, aqua is such a little freak regardless………………………….

What this means in the long term is a little hard to pin down, both because we've had so little insight into Aqua's headspace this arc and because the exact nature of black hoshigan as a symbol has always been a little Calvinballed, but in this context and for Aqua specifically, I think we can read this as his conviction in the messy endgame of his revenge play being shaken up. I, personally, have been reading the black hoshigan as of late as an expression of the sort of futureless despair that can become suicidal ideation, at least for Aqua; since immediately after Ai's death, we have gotten incredibly strong hints that Aqua is suicidal, his guilt-fueled desire to die and his desperate want to experience a happy future at war within him. He more or less explicitly says as such in 106, expressing that this break in their relationship is necessary for Ruby to be able to live on 'after he's gone' - which strongly implies that Aqua's revenge play is intended to end with his death.

Knowing that Ruby is Sarina wasn't quite enough to shake his conviction, but their talk in 143 was. I do think Ruby just giving him some straightforward affirmation was a good starting point but I also can't help but wonder, with the context that his white stars were not indicative of a permanent change, if hearing just how deeply Ruby still relies on 'Gorou's' presence in her life struck a nerve for him. Paraphrasing her from 143, she straight up says Gorou is the one who gives her life meaning. And if that's how it is, what exactly will happen if he's gone again..?

Obviously this is all still speculation because even when I am begging on hand and knee Akasaka is refusing to give us Aqua introspection but at this point I have to make a guess at SOMETHING if i am going to say anything remotely coherent about aqua in this arc, so

ANYWAY!! AQUA AND KANA HAVING A NORMAL ASS CONVERSATION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!!! Ngl, it did give me a bit of a chuckle to see Kana voice the question of whether Aqua was getting too immersed in his role, given that people were accusing her of that back during the first round of the RBKN conflict.

I was also really surprised to see Aqua just outright say that yeah, he is at least flirting with suicidal ideation. Like - that's the first time he's said that out loud, to anybody??? In 143 he voices the less damning but still not great sentiment that he feels guilty for being alive but this is to my knowledge the first time Aqua has expressed his suicidal ideation out loud, let alone to anyone else. And… fuck, man! That's an absolutely terrifying thing to hear a friend say. No wonder Kana reacts like she does.

Because of my powers of Claire-voyance (read: basic pattern recognition and being in fandoms for 15+ years), I'm pretty sure people are going to be Very Mean to Kana about the way she chooses to respond to Aqua here but honestly? Not only did this tough love response feel very IC for her, but the clumsiness of it felt very honest to me. I think a lot of people in fandom lately just want characters to talk like fucking therapists all the time and have the Correct And Unproblematic Response to… well, situations like this. But Kana is an 18 year old girl who has her own share of issues and her friend she knows is dealing with his own huge amount of baggage just casually dropped an "i wanna kms" on her. All things considered, I think she handles it surprisingly well.

Because like… look at what Kana really says to Aqua here. She gives him some of their usual banter to diffuse the tension but then makes herself very clear: she does not want Aqua to hurt himself and makes him promise that he won't. It's clumsy and rough in the way Kana often is, but I think the important part - her sincere care for Aqua as her friend - really does shine through.

also cute that other people caught: Kana squishing Aqua's face seems to be an intentional callback to one of their on-stage interactions in Tokyo Blade, right down to Aqua making a identical scrunchyface to Kana. Extremely cute. I love it when Aqua is cute <3

Kana also being a person able to shake Aqua out of his black hoshigans also leans into something I've been hoping is going to pay off for a while now; the idea that Aqua's salvation is not going to come from any one, singular character but from the many different people who Aqua has built relationships with coming together when he needs them to support him. One of the things OnK has continually highlighted is the way isolation and lacking support systems warp and damage people's mental health and I think it would play excellently into that theme to have Aqua's support net, so to speak, to be wide enough to catch him no matter where he falls.

the product placement was very stupid but i did laugh pretty hard at it and then immediately go buy myself some potato chips so i guess it worked. genius mangaka aka akasaka.

All jokes aside, the note their talk ended off on was so lovely too. Aqua being honest enough to admit that being with Kana is fun and Kana getting all dokidoki and then quietly admitting she feels the same when she's alone… cute! But more than that, it highlights something about the AQKN dynamic I think is really important, regardless of whether their relationship is romantic, platonic, in laws, mlm/wlw hostility or whatever else; Kana is his friend and he can just be a normal boy and have normal fun with her without any ulterior motives. It's something Aqua doesn't really have in any of his other relationships so getting a reminder of that and what it means to Aqua was really good.

honestly i think i am just so starved of nice things happening to my son that seeing him opening up to one of his friends and admitting he has fun (HIS LAUGH!!!!!!) was like a shot of heavenly ambrosia for me. please can hoshino aqua have just one nice day.

OR UH… BASED ON THAT LAST PAGE…. PROBABLY NOT ANYTIME SOON….!!!

this is what i mean about this chapter giving me 5000000 things to talk about. kamiki is TALKING TO RUBY IN THE FLESH FOR THE FIRST TIME and i almost completely forgor.

why is he dressed like a dad about to take her out on a fishing trip, though

Ruby looks unusually solemn while she's praying, which is interesting. She's been pretty bright and high energy since 141ish so I'm curious what has her looking so comparatively dour. She's praying at a shrine, too, which means there's probably something on her mind. Nik (@akane-kurokawa) theorized that she's anxious about the upcoming scenes in the movie (LIKE, YOU KNOW, HER MOM'S DEATH) and until we get further insight on that, that's what I'm gonna assume too.

putting aside how Shrimptresting it is that Kamiki turned up out of nowhere like that, I can't help but note a certain horrible parallel between Uehara meeting young Hikaru in the rain with a black umbrella and Kamiki doing the same for his daughter…

cannot wait for that entire talk to get offscreened. lol.

break next week……………………………

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #chapter reviews #csa mention

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

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.

82 notes · View notes

ravencoloredroses · 10 months

Text

I Choose You

Nyx x Reader (Eris’ daughter)

Summary: Nyx and Eris’ daughter have always felt an attraction towards each other, even if they can never actually be together.

Word Count: 4,086

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I made this to fill my forbidden fantasies between Nyx and Eris’ daughter, but if you want more from these characters, check out All That Matters! It gives a different story line for these two! Thanks for reading and as always, let me know what you think!!

——————————————————————————

I suck in a breath as the strings on the back of my corset are pulled taut. Why I still have to wear corsets is beyond me, but I’ve learned to do what I’m told.

My father is High Lord of the Autumn Court. Which means as his daughter, there are specific rules I must follow and certain events I must attend.

Tonight we are attending an event at the Night Court, something about falling stars. The Night Court is where he is from. We’ve been in the same circles our entire lives, attending the same events and meetings. He’s absolutely perfect in every way, except he is the heir to the Night Court. A.K.A. my mortal enemy.

That’s a cringy way to put it but that’s exactly what it is. Our fathers only recently have started to get along with each other. I’ve heard stories of what my father did to the other High Lord's cousin Mor, but I’d rather not think about that right now. My father has shown me and my brother nothing but love my whole life, and I refuse to believe otherwise.

I hear my father’s signature knock on my door and I go over to open it.

“You look lovely darling.” He says pulling me in for a hug, careful not to mess up my hair. “Are you ready to go?”

I pull away and go to look in the mirror. My bright red hair is perfectly curled and is surprisingly soft for how much hairspray is in it. It’s in perfect contrast to my dark forest green dress. It has long sleeves and a modest neckline but still shows off the curves of my chest before it flares out around my waist. I’ve gone with a light makeup look today, letting my freckles shine through. My father meets my gaze in the mirror.

“I’m ready.” I say, spinning around to face him.

“Perfect.” He replies, grabbing my hand to winnow us away.

We arrive at the front door of a mansion and I see shadows shuffling around in the windows. It looks like there aren't a lot of people here, maybe they are coming later?

Just before my father knocks, the door swings open, revealing the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. They are dressed in full black head to toe, but such a depressing color, it looks amazing on them.

“Welcome to our home! Happy Starfall!” They say, stepping aside to let us in, my father goes first and I trail behind.

The High Lord extends his arm and leads us to what I presume is the living room.

“Everyone is just through there.” He says pointing down a hallway. “Don’t be shy, I’m sure you’ll find some familiar faces.”

As I make my way down, I see him. Gods he looks amazing. Oddly, his suit is the same color as my dress. It was unintentional, but I couldn’t be more thrilled. He’s looking at me with an expression that says he’s excited to see me too.

We’ve never got to be alone with each other, there are always too many people around. After stealing a few glances, one of us gets pulled away. I can’t explain this feeling I have for him. I know we can’t be together. but that only makes me want him more.

“Will your brother be joining us as well?.” Rhys pulls my thoughts away from Nyx.

“No. Unfortunately my brother had other obligations tonight.” I lie. He’s sneaking away with his girlfriend that no one but myself knows about. I can’t help but feel jealous, he always gets everything I want. Our father has a ball and chain that ties me down, I can only go so far before he yanks me back.

That’s why everything about Nyx excites me, he’s got everything I want. He is everything I want.

I’m offered a glass of wine and gladly accept. I’m normally not a big fan of wine, but today I need a little bit of ‘liquid courage’ as they say.

Wandering around this mansion feels wrong, so I make my way towards the balcony. I peer out the window to make sure no one else is there and open the door.

I’m suddenly grateful my dress has long sleeves as I feel the cold air against my skin. I rest my arms on the railing to look out into Velaris. I hate to admit it, but this city is beautiful.

I hear the door behind me quietly open and close. I know who it is without having to turn around.

“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” I ask when he stands next to me.

“It is, yes.” He replies. I look up to find him already looking down at me. I’m not the best at keeping eye contact, but I can’t bring myself to look away. His eyes are a striking blue and it makes my heart skip a beat to know that he’s looking at me. I glance behind me to make sure no one sees us together.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He says, shifting a little closer to me. I turn slightly to face him and he places his hand dangerously close to mine on the railing.

“So have I.” I smile at him. We both look down to our hands as I slowly bring mine overtop of his.

“Do you- do you feel it too?” He asks. I look back to him questioningly.

“Feel what?” He looks shocked at first, but then sadness takes over his expression.

“Never mind.” He looks back to the sky. Feeling a bit bold, I place my hand under his chin and turn his head to look at me.

“Tell me, please. What do you feel?”

He looks down at my lips and back up to my eyes. I find myself doing the same. My boldness must have rubbed off on him because the next thing I know, he is pulling me close.

Then he presses his lips to mine. My shock only lasts half a second and then I’m kissing him back. I wrap my hand around his neck to play with his hair. He moans into the kiss, then his hands travel down my back, stopping at my waist.

I reluctantly pull back after a while for a breath of air and rest my head on his chest. He chuckles lightly, causing me to look up at him. “What?” I giggle back.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “I just can’t believe this is happening.” I pull him back down into a kiss.

“Me neither.” I whisper against his lips.

Moments later, I see a flash of light from the corner of my eye. I must have a confused look on my face because Nyx turns to face us towards the sky. “This is Starfall, my favorite holiday. Some believe they are spirits, traveling to return home. Others just see falling stars and are amazed by their beauty.” He pulls my back to his front, I lean my head back to rest on his shoulder. “What do you believe?”

He looks down and meets my gaze. “I’d like to believe that they are spirits, but I have no proof.” I nod and place a kiss on his chin.

“That sounds beautiful, Nyx. Absolutely beautiful.”

“I’ll have to go back soon, my family will wonder where I am.” He kisses my head and regretfully releases me. “I’ll see you in there.” Then he’s gone.

I stay there looking out at the sky for a couple more minutes. I just had my first kiss and it was with Nyx. I feel like I’m walking on a cloud, until I remember who we are and why we can’t be together. We have to figure something out. I need to be with him. Even if both of our families disown us. I can’t stay away any more.

Soon after returning to my father’s side he announces that we will be leaving. I look around for Nyx, but can’t find him. I mask my disappointment, say goodbye to everyone and thank Feyre and Rhys for inviting us over.

“The next ones at our place.” My dad says with a wink at Rhys and winnows us back home.

———

Two Months Later

Nyx’s POV

I give myself one look in the mirror and head downstairs to meet up with my family. As I come down the stairs, Uncle Cassian whistles at me. “Daaaamn, Nyxie Wyxie, who are you trying to impress?”

I laugh it off nonchalantly and move over to my parents.

“You look so handsome, Nyx. Don’t listen to Cassian, he’s just trying to rile you up.” My mother says. I give her a smile and sit down as we wait for everyone to get here.

It’s been over 2 months since I’ve last seen her and I couldn’t be more excited. I had hoped during Starfall that she felt the mating bond, but it doesn’t seem like she did. Even after we kissed, and my gods it was amazing. I don’t know if that was her first kiss, but it was mine and I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face for 2 weeks. All I’ve been able to think about is her.

So yeah, Cassian, maybe I am trying to impress someone. She has no idea that she’s my mate and even if she did, her father would never let us be together.

I’ve known that she is my mate for almost 2 years, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I have a plan for tonight though, I just need everything to be perfect.

“Okay so here’s the plan.” My dad says, drawing my attention. “It’s a ball, so there will be lots of people dancing around. It will be easy to lose sight of each other, but under no circumstances should we let that happen. Understand?” He says sternly. We all reply with either a yes or a nod. “Great! Now let’s go.” He grabs onto my mothers hand and she grabs mine, winnowing us out.

Loud music fills my ears as people push past me to get to the ballroom, my family and I follow. Over the years coming to these events, I’ve been one of a handful of kids my age. Y/N included. She’s always been the first thing I look for when I get inside. Now as I look around, it takes me no time to find her.

She’s looking around the room as well and finally her eyes land on me. Gods she’s beautiful. Everything about her is stunning. She gives me a big smile and eyes the door to her left. I’m not good at hints, but that one’s pretty obvious, so I gave her a smile back and nod. She walks towards the door and I get a full view of her dress. Dark green, her signature color, with gold lace trims. Her auburn hair is in an intricate braid that’s resting on her right shoulder.

Once she’s inside the door, I count to 60. A full minute might be too much time to make her wait, but I need to be sure my family doesn’t see us together. When I get to 56, I start walking towards the door. I look around to find my parents chatting with other High Lords, Cassian and Nesta dancing together and Azriel standing with his back facing me. Perfect. I pick up my pace and open the door she went through.

It opens into what I assume is a storage room. As I close the door I feel tiny hands wrap around my waist.

“Hey handsome.” She whispers. I spin around in her grasp and put my hands around her waist.

“Hi beautiful.” I pull her close and lift her up to place a kiss on her lips. She moves to wrap her arms around my neck and plays with the back of my hair. I melt when she does this, I love it so much. I can’t control the moan that comes out as she arches her body into mine.

I move to kiss behind her ear, and now it’s her turn to moan. I would give anything to keep that sound on repeat in my head. She continues playing with my hair as I kiss my way down her neck. “Nyx.” She says in my ear in a serious tone, that causes me to stop and look at her face. Scared that I did something wrong, I take a step back. She grabs my hands and has a panicked expression on her face.

“Please don’t leave. I don’t want you to go.” She says. I release a breath and cup her face with my hands.

“Then I won’t.” I promise as I rub my thumbs along her freckle filled cheeks and kiss her again.

She places her head on my chest and I move my hand to cradle the back of her head. “I mean like, ever.” She says and looks up at me. “I don’t ever want to be away from you again.” She starts to cry, I quickly wipe away her tears and pull her closer to me.

I know I need to respond, but I can’t think of what to say. I don’t want to be away from her again either. These past 2 months have been nothing but agony. I want nothing more than to run away with her right now and never return. But we both know we can’t do that. Not yet, anyway. I lift her chin up with my finger and press a quick kiss to her nose which causes her to giggle, just like I wanted.

“I can’t promise you a future, no matter how much I wish I could. What I can promise is the present, and right now I don’t want to do anything but be here with you.” I whisper and she pulls me down into another kiss.

This one is more intense than our previous ones, more needy. I push her up against the wall and lift her into my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist and bites my bottom lip while her fingers begin unbuttoning my shirt.

She gets to the third when the door behind us slams open. I gently drop her to the ground and turn around so she can hide behind me.

“NYX!” I hear my father yell.

“Y/N!” Eris yells from behind him.

My father comes over to me to pull me away from Y/N. Eris rushes over to her and grabs onto her arm. She looks at me scared and it kills me that there’s nothing I can do about it. “Please dad, just let me explain.” She pleads to her father.

“You can explain at the house.” He snarls and winnows her away.

“Noooo!” I fight out of my fathers grasp to try and reach her before they are gone, but it’s too late. I fall to the ground where she was and put my head in my hands.

“Get up Nyx. This is ridiculous.” My father says. I whip my head around and give him the death glare he deserves. “She means nothing to you. She’s the daughter of Autumn, son, she is destined to be your enemy.”

My mom joins me on the floor and rubs my back. “Nyx it will be okay, you’ll find someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else! I want her!” I snap back.

“As long as I’m alive that is never going to happen.” My father hisses. I stand up and move to be face to face with him.

“SHE’S MY MATE!! Did you know that? No, of course you didn’t. She doesn’t even know yet and still she wants to be with me. Do you remember what it was like before mom knew? That’s how I feel right now. It would be nice to have my father be there for me. Why do you think I never told you?” I scream out, he gives me a shocked expression. I bolt past the rest of my family before anyone has a chance to stop me.

Y/N’s POV

I’m still sobbing as I lay on my bed 30 minutes later. When we winnowed home I ran upstairs ignoring anything my father had to say. His knock on my door now is quiet, almost fearful. Good. This conversation isn’t going to be easy for either of us.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” He asks from behind the door. I don’t respond, hoping he will take the hint and leave me alone. Instead, he pushes my door open and sits beside me on my bed. He breathes a heavy sigh.

“I wanted to apologize.” He starts and I jolt upright. I was NOT expecting that.

“W-what?” I ask, not believing my ears.

He nods. “I wanted to apologize to you. I spoke with Rhysand a couple minutes ago and he told me that you two are mates and I……..” He keeps talking, but nothing he says is registering in my brain.

“M-mates? Nyx and I are mates?” I ask.

“Yeah- oh you didn’t- you didn’t know that?” He asks. I shake my head, still struggling to understand what is happening. He pulls me into a hug and rocks me back and forth.

“Oh I’m so sorry sweetheart. I- I thought you knew.”

“Wait. Does Nyx know?” I sit up and look at him, he nods. I’m thinking over our past interactions trying to put the pieces together. That’s what the pinching was. Was that what he was asking if I felt? Why didn’t he just tell me?

“I really am sorry. It’s just that Nyx is the heir of the Night Court and you are my only daughter. I didn’t want to see you together, but since you are mates we will make it work. I promise.” He says.

“Can I go see him?” I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand.

“Of course you can.” He gives me a smile and winnows me to the Night Court.

I wanted to make myself look presentable after all the crying I just did, but I’m running up to Nyx’s room as soon as we get there. I don’t know how I know which room is his, I just feel it. I stop abruptly outside of his door and I’m about to knock when it swings open.

Standing in front of me is the most stunning male I’ve ever seen. He looks like he’s been crying as much as I have. It breaks my heart to see him like that and based on the look he gives me, he feels the same.

I jump up into his arms and he walks us backwards into his room. He kicks the door closed behind us and walks over to his bed. Nyx gently sets me down on his mattress and kneels before me. I place my hands on either side of his face as he rests his hands over mine.

“We’re mates.” I sob out. He looks scared of what I’m about to say, so I give him a smile to try and ease his nerves. He gives me a shy nod.

“Is that okay with you?”

“It’s perfect.”

He releases a sigh and pulls me into his arms. “We need to talk about some things.” He says.

“I know.” I pull back to look at his beautiful face. “I choose you, Nyx. I will always choose you. I don’t care what our parents think. Even if we live in a shack in the middle of nowhere. I just want to be with you.”

He wipes away my tears and looks at me happily. “Are you sure? Because I could definitely find us a shack in the middle of nowhere.” He jokes while peppering my cheeks with kisses. He rubs away his tears with the back of his hand and gives a soft chuckle.

“What?” I ask, giggling at him.

“Nothing, I just am so fucking happy right now. I don’t really know what to do with myself.” He laughs, but his face changes to show that he’s nervous. “Could you stay tonight?”

“Do you have something I could borrow?” I ask, gesturing down to my very uncomfortable dress. He fumbles around in his closet before returning with an oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts. Nyx hands them to me and shows me where his bathroom is, leaving me to change.

His shirt fits me like a dress, it comes down so far you can even tell that I’m wearing shorts. I step back into his bedroom and find that he’s already laying down in bed. He pats the space next to him and I giggle as I jump under the covers.

He pulls my back to his front and wraps his arm around my waist. He places a kiss on my shoulder and says “I choose you too. I will always choose you.”

I smile and snuggle closer. “I know.”

I struggle to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of this moment, but I can already tell that this is going to be the best sleep I’ve ever had.

2 YEARS LATER

I stand up from my vanity and head over to my closet to get dressed. Today is Nyx and I’s anniversary and he’s taking me on a date, but he won't tell me where we are going. The only thing he has told me is what to wear. I pick up the beautifully wrapped box and undo the bow to reveal the most stunning dark green dress.

I turn towards the mirror to see myself. Not only do I look beautiful, I feel beautiful. That feeling isn’t a familiar one, but it’s beginning to grow on me. I’m so distracted looking at myself that I don’t notice my mate walking up behind me.

He wraps his large hands around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. “You look gorgeous, darling. Are you ready to go?” He asks and spins me around.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, so let's go before I ruin this new dress you bought me.” I tease and give him a kiss. He chuckles and winnows us away.

We arrive in an empty ballroom and I look over at him questioningly. “I figured we should have another chance at attending a ball together.” He says shyly, taking my hand to lead me towards the dance floor. Suddenly, classical music begins to play and Nyx places a kiss on my knuckles.

“May I have this dance, My Lady?” He asks with a smirk.

“I’d be honored to dance with you, My Lord.” I reply and he pulls me close. My hand finds room on his shoulder as his find my waist. We slowly sway back and forth for a couple of songs before Nyx pulls back.

“Y/N, on this night 2 years ago I promised you something, and I told you that there was another thing that I couldn’t promise you. I’d like to change that tonight.” He begins and I already feel tears building in my eyes.

“Back then I said I couldn’t promise you a future, but that I could promise you the present.” He swallows and moves onto one knee before me, “Y/N Vanserra, I would be honored if you would allow me to promise you a future, our future.” He pulls out a small box from his jacket pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

I throw myself into his arms. “Yes!”

He picks me up and kisses me while we spin around. He grabs onto my left hand and slides the most beautiful ring onto my fourth finger. He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, then wipes away my tears with his thumb. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too.” I rest my face on his chest as we dance away the night. Our lives may not be perfect, but we chose how to live our lives. We chose each other.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel #cassian #feyre #mor #nesta #rhys #nyx #nyx x reader #eris vanserra #nyx archeron #vanserra reader #rhysand #sarah j maas #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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persieee-yoohoo · 10 months

Text

Easy to Love, Easier to Betray (Part 2)

Pair: Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: maybe ooc?, smut (I attempted gender neutral stuff), language

Summary: You had never been to the Summer Court before, but Rhysand finally gave in to your incessant bothering and brought you along with Amren and Feyre. Unaware of the real reason behind the Night Court's visit, you played your unknown role well and got along with Tarquin a little too easily. When the truth is revealed and people are betrayed, will anything be enough to bring two people back together? (Sort-of retelling of the Summer Court visit for half of the Book of Breathings and several events that followed.)

Note: this is my first time writing smut, so sorry it if it is complete ass, ;D

Also available: ao3

Read Part 1: Here

You kept your promise the following day, not wanting to disappoint Tarquin or even yourself. The liquid courage from the bottle of wine you'd consumed the night before had long-since faded, but the phantom heat of Tarquin's breath on your neck kept you from backing down from the opportunity to get to know the High Lord more. Your nerves caused you to take a few extra minutes that morning to get ready, which meant you missed the spread of breakfast that was most likely getting picked over by your Night Court company, but you wanted to look perfect.

There was no doubt that Tarquin seemed to want you as much as you wanted him, from the heated stares that seared your body and the desperate words that he'd scribbled on paper the previous night, but still you worried. He was a High Lord, despite how much he was teased for his age, and you were a spy. So many things could go wrong, but a sensual voice in the back of your mind reminded you that so many things could go right too.

“Going on a date?” Rhysand practically pounced on you the minute you stepped out of your room, his teasing mood overly compensating for the flash of disappointment that darkened his purple eyes for just a moment. He was dressed in his statement black with a feline smirk adorning his face as he sent a wink your way. “I knew something like this would happen.”

“I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. I don't have a date. I—” You gulped, knowing that any effort to lie would just be lost on your High Lord. He knew you long enough to see right past the bullshit, and you'd given him access to your mind too many times to think that this instance would be any different. “Tarquin requested my company for the day after our meeting. Is that a crime?”

“No,” Rhysand's grin only seemed to widen at your confession, “of course it isn't a crime. I hope you both enjoy yourselves. Besides, it'll give me a chance to get back in dear Feyre's good graces. She's upset with me, if you didn't know.” Well, that explains the disappointment.

As if she'd been listening in, a loud crash was heard from the room Feyre was still hiding in, and you both quickly found yourselves heading to the meeting room.

“Feyre was right.”

Tarquin quickly took notice of the gold jewelry adorning your body, the many rings, the layered body chains, and guided you to one of his court's treasure troves. The tour had been meant for Feyre, but Rhysand had whisked her away before she could even politely deny the offer once their talk of armadas and sailing had concluded. With your plan to already be Tarquin's for the day, you easily stepped in her place. The fae seemed so proud of himself at discerning an interest of yours that you didn't have to heart to explain that you only stepped out of your room that day dripping in jewelry for his enjoyment rather than your own.

As you stood in the center of the room, full of valuables beyond your belief, facing Tarquin while you held a box containing a necklace of black diamonds, you could almost swear that you felt a light tug deep within your chest. It was subtle, and you almost ignored it if the male opposite you hadn't twitched as if he himself also felt it. Tarquin wasn't facing you, but he looked over his broad shoulder to where you stood and assessed what you were holding. If Tarquin didn't deem the faint feeling as something worth talking about, then you wouldn't mention it either.

“What was Feyre right about? We've spoken about a great deal of things,” the male spoke as if Feyre was the last thing on his mind while in your presence, especially as he made his way to you. The closer Tarquin got, the smaller the room felt around you. You suddenly felt crowded by all the jewels and treasures, with nowhere to escape as Tarquin's broad body loomed over you. His height and stature made you scoff, but your breath hitched as a warm chuckle escaped Tarquin's lips. “Have I rendered you speechless already?”

Exhaling a long breath, you met his gaze before you spoke, “she told you that it would be easy to fall in love with you.”

“And you agree?” His fingers teased the ends of your hair, pulling at the strands only slightly enough to earn a gasp from you.

You didn't know if you wanted to respond. It would be so easy to give in, almost effortless, but that just meant it would be near impossible to pull yourself back.

Tarquin took your silence in and brought your focus back to him as his thumb and forefinger captured your chin. He kept you there, searching your eyes for what you truly wanted. “Y/N, answer me. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

Relief caused Tarquin's shoulders to sag, but he was still standing strong as he thought out his next move. Slowly slotting his lips against yours, Tarquin gave one final chance to back away, to stop yourself from regretting this— him. His lips were as warm as the heated air of his court, and you didn't mind getting burned by them as you deepened the kiss. You both continued your sensuous dance of lips and teeth, and it was clear who was leading and who was following.

Tarquin could kiss you however he wanted to if it meant he continued to hold you up by the strong hands that had sneaked around your waist after they abandoned their gentle hold at your face. You never wanted to drown in the sea, but there in that moment with him trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth down to the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, you wanted to drown in the ocean of power that lurked beneath the heated skin of the Summer High Lord. Tarquin had bewitched you with his kisses, surrendered you with his gentle nips, and commanded you with his soothing licks across the marks he made on your exposed skin.

His presence surrounded you, blocking out any thoughts you had about the pricelessness of the objects that were scattered around you and filling your head only with thoughts of him. “Pick anything here, and it's yours.”

Tarquin had only pulled away from your skin for a moment, long enough to say his peace before he continued his exploration across your upper body. It was maddening, and it took tremendous strength to form together a proper response that wasn't just moans and gasps from your enjoyment.

“Are you trying to buy my affections with jewelry?” Your voice was breathy as you scanned whatever part of the room you could from where you stood with your arms clinging to Tarquin's back and your knees threatening to buckle beneath you. “I have no need for more jewelry, but you might win the affections of my female friends with what you have hoarded here.” Always working, always scheming, Rhysand would be proud.

“Just the females? What would Rhysand fall for?” As your High Lord's name fell from Tarquin's lips, you gently pushed him away. Your lips were bruised and your body was buzzing with remnant electricity from your shared heated moment, but Rhysand's name and the change in topics tampered your needy mood.

“If you give in to Feyre's fancies, he'll be sure to follow.” Even a small distance between you had your thoughts becoming your own again. You no longer ached to be one with Tarquin, but a tether deep within you longed for something similar as it continued to grow taught. “The Cursebreaker has sway over him, but I'm sure you were already aware.”

“Fine,” Tarquin huffed, coming down from the desirous high that was building between you and playing the part of a High Lord once again. “I'll let you humor me. What should I gift Rhys' emissary?”

“This,” You drop the necklace of black diamonds that you had picked up again after being dropped onto the floor in the heat of the moment into his grasp, and cross your arms over your chest. You looked at his chin rather than his eyes as you continued, “she'll love it, and it might be enough to have her lobby for an alliance with you.”

“You wouldn't lobby one for me? Even after the intimate moment we've just shared?” Once more, Tarquin's free hand found your chin and pulled your focus to his own eyes. “That doesn't seem like the rumors I've heard about the Night Court. I thought seduction was how you lot found the higher ground to get what you want?”

“I don't mix business with pleasure, Tarquin. If one is what you want, then you'll forfeit the other.” You couldn't help but think that this is what Rhysand wanted from your presence on the trip. A distraction for the untested High Lord of the Sumer Court so his plot could unfurl without a hitch. It was never as simple as your old friend giving into your desire to visit a new court, and you were a fool to believe that for even a second. “Tarquin—”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I pick pleasure.” Tarquin would have begged if that would've been what you needed to desire him the way he desired you. He would've dropped to his knees, which was quite a feat for the strong High Lord he needed everyone to believe he was. “I want pleasure, if you want it as well.”

It killed you not to let Tarquin in on your thoughts about why this budding relationship played right into Rhysand's hands, but you couldn't be bothered to as Tarquin guided you into another kiss and pulled you to the ground right in the middle of the treasure trove.

“I do.”

Tarquin took his time undressing you, first following your body from head to toe with his eyes, and then using his hands to strip you bare at an agonizingly slow pace. With the careful touches and gentle glances he gave you as more fabric came off, it was hard not to let your sighs come across as impatient rather than blissful. You needed him, and it was getting harder to ignore the heat pooling deep in your belly or the way your lower body visibly reacted to Tarquin.

Where other lovers might have teased you for your eagerness to be pressed against the cool floor under the weight of another's body, Tarquin only smiled. He enjoyed watching you squirm for more, for him to stop wasting precious time and just fuck you already.

“Tar—” His name was lost on the tip of your tongue as a whine ripped from somewhere deep in your throat. The frustration you were feeling, and hoping to warn the High Lord about, was replaced by immediate pleasure when Tarquin pressed a hand between your thighs.

You struggled to buck your hips against his hand for more friction, but Tarquin was already pressing down on your lower stomach to keep you flushed with the ground. He was in control, and you couldn't even arch your back off the ground to slide your chest against his.

This was torture, you thought.

“I'm not going to rush this, my little pearl.” Nudging your legs apart, Tarquin settled himself lower on your body between your thighs. His hands remained where they were, one pressed against your belly and the other cupping your aching sex. The parts of his skin that you could see stretched over his muscle enticingly and you tried again to buck up against him.

“I'm the only one naked. It puts me at a disadvantage.” You spoke around another whine as Tarquin slowly dragged his tongue against the aching spot that you needed him the most. With his head dipped to hover just above your hips, you reached with your fingers just enough to thread them through the high lord's white hair. With the long tresses of his hair caught between your fingers, you pulled against his roots to get him to reach your stare.

Tarquin obeyed your summons, moaning deeply as his half-lidded eyes lazily met yours. His tongue was still resting against your body in a sinful way, but he paused his ministrations to give you the attention you had pointedly called for.

“Strip,” Your demand began as a whisper, the noise almost caught in your throat at the sight of him, but you persevered. “I want to see you like how you see me.”

“Say please, pearl.”

“Please.”

Even though you asked for it, even though it was what you wanted, you hated every moment that Tarquin was disconnected from your body as he leaned back into a kneeling position on the floor. With the room lit by warm faelight, Tarquin had a golden halo of light casted around his body's silhouette. The sight was godly, especially as he shrugged off his clothes and bared his naked body to you. Tarquin was beautiful, and you would've told it to him over and over if he didn't take your breath away by reaching one of his strong hands down his body to stroke himself several times before crawling back over you.

“Are we even now?” His voice was like a caress and you shivered beneath him. You still had no words, so you only nodded as your cheeks flamed beneath his gaze.

Rather than going back to your waiting sex, Tarquin settled for pressing his body flush with yours. His wicked mouth was curved in a smirk and he was no longer the same High Lord you met the other day. Gone was the look of unease that had tried to hide behind a mask of shaken confidence, replaced by utter cockiness.

“I can feel you practically dripping against me. Tell me what you want. Beg for it.”

With no unnecessary fabric separating your warm bodies, you intimately felt every inch of skin that pressed against you. Still though, it wasn't enough for you. You need friction, you needed movement.

And if Tarquin wasn't going to give it to you, then you would take it for yourself.

You weren't Azriel's spy for nothing, you had the necessary skillset that the job demanded from you. With a brief moment to rally your strength, you forced Tarquin to the ground as you followed his movements by rolling on top of him. The look of surprise that had his eyes widening and mouth slightly agape was quickly replaced by a look of failing restraint as your ass began grinding against his stiff erection beneath you.

“I'm not in the mood for games, either you fuck me or I'll go find someone that will.” It was an empty threat. You wouldn't go find someone else. If anything, you'd just retreat to your own temporary room and take care of the dull ache between your legs yourself, but Tarquin didn't need to know that.

“Oh, is that right? I better do something about that then.” Tarquin brought his ebony fingers to your pouting lips and coaxed you into taking two digits into the warmth of your mouth with teasing coos. “That's it…good pet.”

Once his fingers were sufficiently covered in your spit, he pulled them from your mouth and trailed them down your body until he got to your waiting entrance.

Tarquin worked one finger into you, making quick work of opening you up little by little before he added another. He needed you to be ready to take him, to handle that pleasurable stretch that would slingshot you to ecstasy. To silence the moans that were being dragged from your throat as he scissored his digits deep within you, you leaned down and lost yourself in a heated kiss with the High Lord. You'd barely even begun, and you were already beginning to come undone around his experienced fingers. “Tarquin, I'm ready…just hurry up already.”

A dark laugh struck you right in the core as he leaned back on his supporting arm to look you over as you sat above him, riding his hand, desperate for more.

“Just remember, pearl, you asked for this.” Tarquin guided you off of his fingers and lap just so he could reposition you on the floor. You felt the bite of the cool floor beneath your naked body as your lover laid you out on your elbows and knees.

Your knees were kept spread apart by his own positioned between you, and your upper body arched as you felt light kisses trail from your neck down to the lower dip of your back. The brief intimacy was the only gentleness you were allowed before Tarquin thrusted back into you, picking an unforgiving pace that had you reaching for anything to steady you on the ground but coming up empty.

A strong hand found purchase on your fleshy hip, digging into the soft, glistening skin as another pressed your back into a deeper arch that gave him a better angle to drive into you from behind. His deep groans and your gasping breaths were the only noises that filled the treasure trove, and the smell of your sins mixed together amongst the jewels and other riches.

The two of you created a symphony, an orchestra made from two people, an untested High Lord and a gullible spy. Every time Tarquin's body snapped against yours, a moan was drawn from your slack mouth, and every time you clenched around Tarquin's cock, a quiver passed over his tense body. It was a game of call and response, and every response increased in intensity and volume the closer you both got to finding a tandem release. The lewd echoing of skin against skin was drowned by the guttural noises being pulled from one another.

“Tarquin— I'm..ah fuck.. I'm so close.” You tried reaching beneath your body to reach the point between your thighs that ached almost painfully, but Tarquin beat you there. The hand that had stabilized his frantic movements as he was pounding away into you snaked around to your front where he knew he would be able to drive you over the edge almost immediately.

“Come with me. Say my name, let your dirty fucking mouth scream my name for everyone to hear.” Though he whispered his words quietly against your ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there, you heard every word. Tarquin's pacing seemed erratic now, no clear pattern being followed as he rutted against you.

You screamed out Tarquin's name as you splintered around his dick, his swift fingers relentlessly elongating the high that made you drunk on him. His release quickly followed your own, his hips slamming into you once more before stilling completely.

“Fuck, Y/N,” his voice was hoarse and he collapsed against your back to recover from the intensity of the orgasm you coaxed out of him.

Even as he stayed seated within you, his hilt flush against your rear, evidence of both of your releases trailed down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you. The two of you may have to take a few minutes to recover from that blinding high, but then you'd have to wear about cleaning the mess beneath you to erase any trace of your animalistic actions from the treasure trove.

And after that, you'd have to somehow face the members of both his inner court and your own, and deal with the consequences of your actions, whatever they may be.

#tarquin #tarquin x reader #tarquin/reader #tarquin x you #tarquin/you #acotar #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses

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drabblesandimagines · 7 months

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400 requests! joshuaxreader when reader suddenly kisses him. please ❤️

Thanks for taking part in my 400 Followers Event, anon! Hope you enjoy x Distraction Joshua Rosfield x fem reader, just good ol' fluff 658 words

Joshua thinks better when he thinks aloud, and even more so when he has an audience.

You’re sat together on a bench at the top of the Hideaway at sunset – you’ve positioned yourself with crossed legs, facing inwards. He’s mulling away, skipping back and forth between his own journal of writings and the annals of Moss the Chronicler that lie on the bench between the two of you, finding links and identifying areas where he wishes to explore more.

You’re mesmerized by his voice, how adorable you find it when his tone inflects in excitement when he pieces another part of the puzzle together. You wish you could take in what he was saying - Founder forbid if he asked you to repeat anything back! His face, usually pale of late, is full of colour this evening, the setting sun basking him in a golden glow and you are absolutely smitten.

“Mayhaps on Ash I’ll be able to see the mural in full at last – the Circle of Malius still is prominent over there after all, and just like Phoenix Gate I’m hoping an Apodytery will still stand…”

The mention of Ash makes your stomach squirm as Joshua continues his chain of thought aloud. Ash is Odin’s territory, where the last Mothercrystal resides too. They plan to set sail as soon as the Enterprise is restored and that day grows ever closer – Mid regularly sending reports. Worry gnaws at your chest, too close to your heart – both Joshua and Clive had not come out well against Barnabas Tharmr in the past.

“..I was thinking, instead of waiting for repairs to finish, I could prime and just fly over to Ash.”

“Joshua!” You gasp, looking at him in alarm. “You can’t-“

He’s grinning, boyishly. “I do jest, my lady. I could see I’d lost you to your own thoughts.” The Phoenix leans forward. “Forgive me. After all, you are kind to entertain me so as I muse, especially when I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”

“Not at all.” You reply, softly. “I could listen to you for hours.”

“You shouldn’t tell me that – there is many a topic I can prove to be quite passionate about that others may find too dry. In fact, Moss the Chronicler commented that-”

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and you want him to be yours.

You lean forward then – you’re not sure why, a combination of the fear of what is to come, the way his eyes sparkle in the fading sunlight, the handsome smile on his face as he talks – and you cup his face in your hands. Without any further thought, you press your lips onto his.

There’s a horrible second when he doesn’t reciprocate and you know you’ve now crossed a line that you will never be able to come back from. You go to pull back, thinking already of how fast you might be able to descend the stairs, retreat to your bunk, but then his arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and he is kissing you back - hungrily.

You move your hands then, resting one at the back of his head, fingers entangling in his blonde locks and the other runs up and down in his spine. He nibbles at your bottom lip before his tongue slips in, trying to explore every corner of your mouth and you don’t think it is possible, but you melt even more into his arms.

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you break for air, leaning your forehead upon his as you both try and catch your breath, sweet smiles on your faces.

“That is quite an effective way of silencing me.” He compliments in a teasing tone.

“Forgive me for ruining your train of thought.”

He captures your chin then, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “Actually, I would bid you to do that far more often, sweet one.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-f

#ghostdogwrites #ff16 x reader #joshua rosfield x female reader #joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield x you

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ametistacollinsworld · 1 year

Text

♡ Jealous! N x Fem! Reader ♡

My fifth request! Hope you like!

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N was a special disassembly drone, this nobody could deny. Everything about him was attractive to you, like his goofy and cute personality that popped out every time you gave him a hug or a kiss on his cheek, making the drone a blushing mess, or even just the random actions he had, like his embarrassed laugh , expressions when he was excited, anyway..everything about him was so cute!

And N couldn't disagree about finding you adorable back. After he got over his romantic feelings for V, the disassembly drone realized that he now harbored feelings for you, which wasn't so bad in N's view. You were one of the only drones that was ever truly kind to him, giving him gentle hugs, holding his hand, or simply pecking his cheek…all the affection he would never get from V or J. You were just the sweetest girl in his eyes.

After a long time growing feelings for you, N finally got the courage and asked you to be his girlfriend. Which you happily accepted, pulling him into a passionate kiss that he instantly melted into your arms! (Not literally- Lmao-)

Well, back to the present time…

You were currently talking to V near the ship, sitting together in a rusty old car, just talking about things in general. After V promised to finally "behave herself" towards you and Uzi, the drone was finally allowed to go without the chains, which at first for you was still a bad idea, but after the events involving Doll… you trusted the disassembly drone a little more now.

N was watching your interaction with V from afar, watching you laugh when V cracked a joke here and there, ah…how he loved hearing you laugh! Was it just…sweet? But watching you spend so much time with V instead of him felt almost like torture…he was jealous wasn't he? He just didn't want to admit it to himself.

N gave an irritated sigh to himself, soon starting to walk to the entrance of the spaceship, soon entering it with his head down without noticing your eyes following him.

'' Hm..'' You mutter to yourself still looking at the ship's entrance, which soon attracts V's attention.

'' Are you okay (Y/n)? You just got quiet all of a sudden..'' V asks leaning further into the car.

'' N looks upset.. I think I'll go check on him. Can we continue talking later? It's nice to talk to you V! '' You say softly giving the drone a smile, which she rolls her eyes, but soon returns the smile.

'' Of course, I guess. Not much to do here anyway..'' V says getting up from the car looking at you.

'' I think I'll go hunting now~ In case the emo shows up, tell her I went north to hunt please~ '' V says spreading her wings, soon letting their toothy smile and X's eye appear.

'' Sure! But come back before sunrise ok?! '' You exclaimed as the drone already started to fly.

'' Yeah yeah! I'm going now! Until later!~ '' V quickly said goodbye, shortly thereafter flying out of the dome wanting to hunt. You sighed getting up from the car, then heading towards the ship.

Finally arriving at the ship, you opened the door looking for your boyfriend, finding him sitting in one of the chairs with his back to you.

'' N Honey? Are you good? I saw that something seemed to be bothering you.. '' You asked softly, thus approaching the disassembly drone that had a little sour face.

'' Nothing is wrong! I- ah..I-I just lost my crayons..yeah..'' N exclaimed soon stuttering in a softer voice. You blinked not believing this lie.

'' Honey you loaned your crayons to Uzi remember? I even remember how happy you were that she asked you to borrow them for a while.. '' You said looking at the drone that seemed to be getting nervous.

'' Just tell me what's really going on please? You know I would never judge you right? I your partner now N.. '' You say in a sweet tone, soon carefully taking one of N's hands, which he reciprocated by intertwining your fingers with his.

'' O-okay…I'll tell the truth..I-I think I'm jealous of V? '' N stammered embarrassed, leaving you confused.

''Jealous of V? Why exactly? '' You ask having a questioning expression. N feels their cheeks flush, finally realizing what exactly he meant.

'' What I mean is that..I..I'M JEALOUS THAT YOU SPEND SO MUCH TIME WITH V INSTEAD OF ME! '' N exploded, soon realizing that he had yelled, feeling utterly embarrassed. You blinked for a moment, then burst out a little laugh.

'' Awwn..were you that jealous baby? You know I would never replace you right? '' You spoke in a sweetly amused tone, then carefully cupping N's face with your other hand, stroking his cheek gently.

''I-I just.. I don't know what came over me (Y/n)..I'm sorry..'' N spoke in a sad and embarrassed tone.

'' It's okay honey! Really! Everyone gets jealous from time to time! '' You said giving N a smile, which he reciprocated feeling better with your words.

'' Can I get kisses now? '' N asked in a low tone looking at you. You laugh softly at that, he was always so cute and funny!

'' You can win as many as you want! Now come here you goofy! '' You said giving a loving smile, soon pulling N close to you. You placed kisses on his forehead, cheeks and lips, watching as he seemed to melt with each kiss and giggling with every one of them too.

'' I love you (Y/n) '' '' I love you too N ''

#md n #murder drones n #murder drones x reader #murder drones x fem! reader #md n x fem! reader #md n x reader #murder drones n reader

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edupunkn00b · 3 months

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The Gremlin and His Pocket Protector

Photo by Sean Bernstein via Unsplash

[ AO3 ] - Rated: G - WC: - CW: mild language - written for @ashtonisvibing in the Seasons Skirmish

Remus asks his brother's best friend to be his date at his roller rink birthday party.

“Hey, Pocket Protector! Wait up!” Remus called from the top step. Logan looked up just in time to catch him sliding down the banister separating them. He landed with a thud inches from Logan's feet, chains adorning his jacket clanking against the battered collection of buttons and patches that covered most of the worn leather.

“You are aware I do not even wear a pocket protector, correct?” Logan bit back a more acerbic reply as he glared at his best friend’s strange brother.

“Yeah,” he said, smirking back as though nothing could matter less than reality. “Your point?” Remus leaned in, one hand pressed against the wall just over his shoulder. The stream of students leaving that floor’s lecture halls flowed around them, parted like the sea by Remus’ shock of bright green hair topping his 6’4” frame.

“What do you want, Remus?” he inched toward his left, eyes searching for a break in the traffic for his chance to escape this conversation. He’d long ago gone through all the stages of Remus Avoidance: ignoring, shouting, even tattling when they’d all been back in grade school together.

Unfortunately, the endless tenacity that had somehow gotten Remus into the same university as his inarguably superior twin was just as easily directed to his apparent favorite pastime: annoying the hell out of Logan.

“I want you to come as my date to my birthday party, of course!” Remus said, shoving a crumpled version of the invitation he’d helped Roman design into his hand.

Logan blinked up his’ manic smile before staring down at the gold foil invitation. “Your…”

“My date, yeah,” Remus nodded, squeezing in a little closer as a gaggle of freshmen moved behind him, nattering away about an upcoming final. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course I’m going!” A flash of irritation, too strong to hide, sharpened his tone. Remus didn’t seem to notice. Or care. “I am co-hosting the event.” The green-haired gremlin just nodded, smiling with too much teeth. “For your brother.”

“Oh, I know that,” he cackled, half-heartedly punching his shoulder. “But he’s got his own date already. I want you to be my date.”

“I am not attracted to your—” The lie died on his lips. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. He wasn’t attracted to Roman.

Thankfully, Remus was too distracted, staring up at a commotion on the landing above them. He briefly imagined he’d heard Roman’s voice, but his wish for an easy escape from this conversation he was in no way ready—would never be ready—to have was just that. A wish.

“So is that a ‘yes?’” Remus asked, smiling back at him.

“No, that is a ‘no.’” Logan said firmly, holding his books close to his chest as he worked his way into the crown leaving the building.

“But I’ll see you there!” Remus called after him, giddy with whatever scheme he’d devised to harass Logan further.

Logan didn’t bother to answer and instead moved with the crowd out to the Quad and off to his next class. He barely noticed the invitation still gripped tightly in his hand.

Remus grinned as he watched Logan maneuver his way through the throngs of slow-moving students. “It’s never going to work,” Roman said from the landing above, leaning over the railing to be heard over the midday tumult.

“Of course it is,” Remus countered, hoisting himself up and over the railing before taking the stairs up, three steps at a time. He shrugged, still smiling, at his brother. “He’s gonna be there, isn’t he?”

“He’s throwing the party!” Roman cried, eyes wide. “And since when do you actually like my friends?”

“Ew, I don’t,” he laughed, heading down the stairs and toward the door where Logan had just escaped. Roman followed, too much of a nosy bitch to let him get far. When the door swung open to release a squad of jostling frat boys, Remus caught just a glimpse of Logan’s raven hair out on the quad, shining in the sun. “Just that one.”

Heavy bass pounded inside the roller rink, muffled but not silenced by the door Logan let close behind him. He leaned against it, the June night air cooler than he’d feared. Or maybe it was just cooler outside compared to the muggy heat of fifty of Roman and Remus’ closest friends bouncing off of one another inside the crowded venue.

At least Logan had been able to convince Roman to limit the guest list with a Pairs Event theme. Even if it meant he would sit out most of the skating. But that was satisfactory. Logan had had his fill at actual skate competitions back in high school.

All things considered, the party wasn’t bad and there were parts Logan genuinely found enjoyable. It seemed Remus’ big plan had been to stand him up—Roman’s chaotic twin hadn’t bothered to show up for his own birthday party. Logan sighed and leaned a little heavier against the door. All the more reason to ignore the little spark that danced through his mind whenever he spotted that tuft of neon green.

A giggling couple approached, side-walking up the steps toward the entrance. Their mocked-up ‘competitor’ bibs half-hanging from their backs, the taller of the pair carried a large bottle partially hidden in a brown paper bag. They paused as they drew nearer, the large ‘Emergency Exit Only’ sign above Logan’s head making for a nice deterrent. He’d chosen his spot carefully, deactivating the alarm for a guaranteed space for air when he needed breaks from the party.

“Couples figure skating begins in fifteen minutes, if you’re ‘competing,’” Logan told them, tapping his watch. Roman’s muted voice buzzed through the gap under the door, his words unintelligible but his excitement palpable. More than likely, he was making the same announcement inside. “Roman’s crafted a secret prize for the winner.”

“Oh, thanks, Lo!” they cheered as they clomped past, taking the long way back to the main entrance. They stumbled slightly, leaning on each other until they turned just out of Logan’s sight.

“Thanks, Lo Lo,” Remus purred, too close to his other side.

Logan jolted, pivoting away too fast for Remus’ outstretched hand. His toe stop squeaked against the floorboards and he glared up at the wayward brother. He'd shed his usual motorcycle jacket and tight ripped jeans and was dressed instead in a long-sleeved green shirt under a deep blue denim vest and matching pants. A bit of sparkle flashed in the denim. It reminded Logan of his old skating competition clothes. What the hell is he playing at? “Where have you been? The party— your— party started over an hour ago!”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” he cooed but didn’t move closer. One hand was tucked behind his back, the other hand the railing next to them in a death grip. “Did you miss me?” he asked with a grin, eyebrows dancing in a spot-on imitation of Andrew Scott’s Moriarty.

“Of course not.” Of course he didn’t miss his vaguely derogative nicknames or how he stood too close or stared into his eyes when he spoke. “Roman was looking for you.”

“Eh,” Remus shrugged, his smile falling into a smirk. “So why are you out here? Looking for me, too?”

“No.” Logan looked out over the side parking lot. This vantage point specifically wouldn’t allow him to watch for the approach of Remus’ car or the entrance to see him slither in late to his own birthday party. He couldn’t look for Remus here. “But you are correct,” he muttered. “I should return.”

He turned and side-stepped upstairs. He was half-way up the flight when he noticed the lack of Remus’ skates tromping behind him. Logan looked over his shoulder and Remus had barely moved. “Are you not going inside?”

“Afraid you’ll miss the chance to skate with me?” Remus smirked back. Logan crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. He was certainly not going to entertain the idea just to have Remus play some trick in front of everyone. “Don’t get your pencils twisted. I’m coming.” He inched forward, one hand still gripping the railing. “Well, not yet, anyway. That would be rude without my date.”

“I’m not your date,” Logan reminded him, frowning at his remark. He waited another long moment and listened as the music shifted and Roman’s voice again filtered through the cracks between the exit doors. “If you wish to see at least some of your birthday party, we should return.”

“Oooh, ‘we…’” Remus laughed, sharp and bright. His smile had gone a little brittle and though he’d slid a little closer, he’d still not joined Logan on the stairs. He would have to let go of the side railing to get any closer, and he seemed… intent on keeping hold of it. Almost as though…

“Remus?” Logan asked, stepping closer. “Remus do you not know how to roller skate?”

“I can skate,” he insisted, hand still wrapped around the rail. “I’m just… just a little rusty.” Remus’ smile finally cracked and he looked up. Logan remained silent. “Fine!” he said, letting go of the railing. Remus slid closer to the first step, perhaps a little wobbly. He reached for the bannister and stepped up to the first stair. “I’ll show you. I’ll just—”

His words cut out when his front wheels spun out, toe stop catching on the edge of the step. His back leg shot out and he slammed to his knees, arms spread and revealing the small wrapped package he’d been hiding behind his back. The box skidded across the floor, a corner of the silver-starred paper tearing.

“Remus?” Logan hop-skipped down the stairs two at a time. He landed near him just as Remus was pushing himself up to sit, back propped against the railing to which he’d been clinging to. “Remus, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Pocket Protector,” Remus muttered, looking away and brushing the dust off his knees. “Just go in. I’ll…”

Logan had sat beside him and stretched to reach for the small box. “You dropped your present for Roman.”

“Not for Roman,” Remus said, barely audible. “”S for you. If you don’t want it…” He shrugged, the bravado, the teasing, the confidence in his voice evaporated into the night.

“For me?” Logan turned the small package around in his hands. Remus had wrapped it in deep indigo paper and had apparently stamped a star pattern over the finished gift.

Remus shrugged. “You didn’t hafta get me anything this year.”

“Your gift is inside at the party,” Logan said, setting aside the gift and his curiosity. “I wouldn’t bring Roman a gift without one for you, as well.”

“Why?”

Logan didn’t have an answer for that so instead he shifted to face him. “Why did Roman ask for a birthday party at a roller rink if you can’t roller skate?”

“Brotherly love?” Remus’ laugh was hollow. Roman’s voice boomed through the building again, even louder this time. “Dick move, yeah.” He waved Logan on. “You should go in. He is your best friend.”

Logan pushed himself up to one knee and waited for another laugh, another smirk, another ‘Nerd!’

Remus was quiet and still wouldn‘t look at him. Logan pushed to his feet and turned his foot, bracing himself. He reached for Remus’ hands with both of his. “Not without my date,” he said.

Remus’ head shot up, eyes narrowed. “Getting me back for the time I put isotropic polymers in your chem lab final?”

Logan dropped his hands. “I thought that was you!” The music inside the rink shifted into a fanfare and Logan let out a slow breath. “No. I will not exact my revenge for that event tonight.” He crouched and took Remus’ hands, then stood, skates braced against each other as he helped him to his feet.

“Tonight,” he said, his own smile matching Remus’ tentative grin. “Tonight let’s show your brother how much of a dick move that was.”

“You really are my Pocket Protector, aren’t you?” Remus laughed.

Hands still wrapped around Remus’, Logan pushed his right hand back as he pulled the left closer, spinning the taller man until he faced the wall. “Tomorrow, you should watch your back.”

Still laughing, Remus nodded. “You got it, nerd.”

-----

Full gift exchange series

#sanders sides #ts logan #ts remus #intrulogical #eventually #college au #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #briefly

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