#so i have not problem with doing little besides fighting in these games

[maaruin]

I wonder: Do I just not like combat heavy games at all, or do I just not like a lot of combat in games with a beautiful world?

Just today I saw a video about Assassin's Creed: Mirage's world and I thought: If this game played more like Hitman I would absolutely buy it, but it looks like so much of the game will be about killing hundreds of guards.

Actually, there is another possible option: If the games story isn't about combat (and assassination isn't combat, if an assassin needs to fight, that means they have failed), I want there to be a minimum of combat in the game.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same. 

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.” 

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned. 

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!” 

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.” 

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.” 

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.” 

“You banned me from playing a card game?” 

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.” 

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks. 

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain. 

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.” 

“I cheat?” 

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.” 

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.” 

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?” 

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.” 

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment. 

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.” 

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly. 

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that. 

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted. 

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…” 

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged. 

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.” 

“What is?” Azriel softly asked. 

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock. 

“How so?” Mor posed. 

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?” 

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.” 

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat. 

“Does this mean—” 

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them. 

As if you weren’t sitting right there. 

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.” 

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.” 

“What about…” 

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull. 

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards. 

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears. 

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. 

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—” 

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.” 

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—” 

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.” 

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.” 

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really. 

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.” 

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony. 

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know. 

Everything felt like too much. 

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment. 

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now. 

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins. 

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you. 

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze. 

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?” 

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take. 

It infuriated you. 

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—” 

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today. 

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself. 

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—” 

“It won’t!” 

You screamed. 

You hadn’t meant to. 

Azriel stopped in his tracks. 

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” 

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.” 

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.” 

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond. 

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete. 

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near. 

What you were regretting, you didn’t know. 

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.” 

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. 

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw. 

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.” 

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness. 

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body. 

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.” 

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.” 

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress. 

A ring around your finger. 

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket. 

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?” 

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.” 

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks. 

He had said you were mates. 

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.” 

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.” 

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms. 

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. 

“Of course I married you.” 

A pause. 

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.” 

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question. 

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…” 

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.” 

“That was the goal.” 

Another soft round of laughter. 

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you. 

[star-girl69]

After Midnight

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: flirting with the star hockey player at the frat party isn’t what you would normally do, but it’s after midnight and something about the lights is making everything a little hazy.

feel free to send requests!!! 🫶🫶

a/n: GUYS PLEASE. PLEASE IGNORE THIS. i’m sorry i’ve betrayed all my morals… but i cant sit idly by while my fellow kk lovers suffer… i hope you all enjoy!!

After Midnight - Chappell Roan

warnings: not proofread!!!, ALCOHOL!!! we are in a FRAT people!!, some swearing ofc, super brief barely there mentions of violence and such, kk is taller than reader by like an inch suck it idc i do what i want, super brief mention of y/n having hair (length unspecified), idk like a bit of kissing and some somewhat suggestive thoughts… y/n is a freak 💔, i’ve never flirted with anyone before how do you do this, so probs inaccurate, i don’t know anything about hockey just prefacing this, i also don’t know how college works rip, as chappell roan said: “i love a little drama, let’s start a bar fight, cause everything good happens after midnight”

—-

“Shit, babe, you look fuckin’ hot.”

This entire night is almost painful for you. Stepping out of your comfort zone on any level is always an adjustment, but trading your early nights in with homework and Netflix for a sexy dress showing everything in all the right and wrong places- is especially hard.

You almost cringe touching the velvet fabric of your revealing dark red shirt, staring at someone in the mirror you don’t even recognize.

“Jackie,” you mumble to your best friend and roommate, “I think it’s.. too much.”

Jackie tilts her head to the side, short dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. She’s only humoring you, you can tell. “Nope. Perfect.”

You look at the pictures stuck in the slats of the mirror. Pictures of you, Jackie, and the other girl in your trio, Tyla, faces pressed together in bright smiles from various adventures from your freshman year at college.

It was such a relief when Jackie was the sweetest girl and an amazing person to share a dorm with, but when she brought along her best friend Tyla from a few doors down- the three of you fell into a quick and beautiful friendship, like the ones in the movies.

Jackie and Tyla were definitely more on the party girl side than the study girl side, but that was what was so great about your friendship. You reminded them that they did in fact have homework, and they pushed you to do things like this every once in a while.

This was the first time you had ever suggested it. Midterms were over- it would be wrong to not celebrate. To breathe in the few seconds you had left as a freshman, before it all got turned up again for sophomore year.

“Okay,” Jackie breathes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Take a deep breath, babe. The fit is a lot, yes, but it’s gorgeous. I mean, damn, where have you been hiding that ass?”

You bite your lip, eyes tearing away from the pictures, meeting Jackie’s eyes in the reflection.

“My ass does look really good,” you concede.

“Hell yeah it does!” Jackie shouts, smiling brightly. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It’s just some random frat party. We can go sit outside if it gets too much.”

It’s break. It’s Friday night. You look good, however uncomfortable you are.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m just gonna do a few shots when we get there.”

“That’s my girl.”

Jackie thinks for a moment. “Besides, I think it’s a party to celebrate the girls hockey team winning a game, or something like that. The attention is gonna be far away from you. But…”

She trails off, picking at a piece of thread hanging from her comforter.

“What?” You ask, heart jumping to your throat in fear.

“Dylan might be there,” she shrugs.

Ugh.

Dylan.

Dylan wasn’t even that big of a problem, just a boy you had overzealously dated right when you got to college, when you were adjusting and still kind of lonely, only to find out his obsessive, stalker-ish personality was literal hell to be in a relationship with.

After maybe a week of constant love-bombing and clinginess, you broke up with him- and he tried for literal months to get your attention before he finally seemed to give up.

Once in a while, you’d see him at these parties, and he’d stare at you in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but was only weird and uncomfortable.

“Who gives a fuck about him?” You ask, your own surprise reflected in Jackie’s face.

“Damn, girl. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ right. Who gives a fuck about his sad ass?”

“I don’t,” you scoff, refusing to let him ruin your night.

The bathroom door slams open suddenly, revealing Tyla in an even more revealing black dress. Skin tight with cut outs showing her dark skin.

“Jesus Christ, I pity the other girls at that bar.” Tyla runs her hands down her sides, smiling brightly in a way that can only be joking.

And you laugh, and you laugh when she softly bumps you away from the mirror and admires herself even more.

—-

Because of this rash decision to go out, Tyla hadn’t done her usual shopping for the pregame so you were forced to go to the party early- which Tyla actually groaned at and complained about how “embarrassing” it was. But after a few shots, that embarrassment fell away and she was back to being the funny, confident girl you knew her as.

You talked amongst the three of you, and with the two boys who were acting as bartenders, until more and more people slowly started filing in and the sky got dark. It was probably close to 10pm by the time the party really got busy, and those first two hours faded into a montage of alcohol stinging your throat and the sounds of your best friends laughing.

When the hockey team finally arrived, you were sitting on a couch with your girls, Tyla talking in this played-up sensual voice to a random boy who had taken an interest in her, while you and Jackie were busy scouting out the new arrivals and the different kinds of alcohol they placed on the table.

Even if Jackie hadn’t off-handedly mentioned it earlier, you quickly would have found out who this party was for. A large group of girls walked into the party, immediately met with cheers and shots, swarmed with alcohol and congratulations.

Some guy, probably one who actually lived in this house, whipped out a shitty megaphone and shouted their arrival, but it wasn’t even that loud.

Even you, however studious you were, knew about the girl’s hockey team. A bunch of them had played on the Olympic team a few years ago, and all the students of this D1 school were generally pretty proud that the Wisconsin team had won the most national championships.

Most of them were wearing their jerseys, but a few had dressed up. The girl’s hockey team was probably the hottest, most talented group of girls to ever be within 100 feet of you.

It was almost unfair how all of them were so beautiful and so talented, but you suppose that the rigorous workout schedules of Olympic and national athletes didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than a fuck ton of muscles.

God, half of them towered over you and all of them could probably break your wrist with just a flick.

It was impressive.

What was most impressive, though, is the way the infamous Caroline Harvey walked in carrying about 27 cases of beer, which must have weighed as much as this fucking house, and effortlessly set it all on the ground beside the table full of red solo cups, chasers, and bottles of vodka.

Cheers rang out and people scrambled towards it, ripping the cardboard boxes open greedily and opening them just as fast.

You watched, hiding your parted mouth with your hand, as Caroline accepted an open beer from someone, cheers with a few of her teammates and drank a long sip. When she was done, she laughed and lifted her shirt to her mouth to wipe off some stray liquid, a movement that let just a sliver of her toned abs peek through.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, quickly looking to the floor and deciding hockey was your new favorite sport.

You knew her from around campus, you both liked to study in the library at the same time- around 3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it became kind of tradition to just stare at her for a few minutes in between sections of your work. Almost like some weird little reward. You did feel kind of bad about it, but fuck, there was no way you could stop.

Besides, it’s not like she noticed.

You always sat on opposite sides of the library, and she never once even looked in your direction. What Caroline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and you never see her unless it’s at the library or in passing at parties. But, God, doesn’t it feel good to just relish in how beautiful she is and stare for just a bit.

“Y/N, babe.”

Jackie knocked herself into you, her knees tucked up to her chest, some sort of a smile on her face.

“What’cha doin’?” She asks, smiling in a way that can only be described as evil. “Starin’? Hockey player pique your interest, huh?”

“No,” you say, forcing a laugh into your voice and rolling your eyes. “Just lookin’ at all the commotion.”

You’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but now that Jackie’s mentioned it- those abs did pique your interest. And now they came flashing behind your eyes every time you blink.

“Oh, my God, I think I’m in heat,” you mumble, slightly to yourself and slightly to Jackie.

She wraps a lazy arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Oh, sweet girl, don’t worry. I’ve got you. Which one is it?”

“Caroline,” you mumble, so quiet and so sudden before you can really think about it.

Jackie hums, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t know a whole lot about her, but I heard she had a girlfriend freshman year, so definitely into girls. Not dating anyone right now, though. Olympian, hockey player, all that sexy stuff.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you mumble, sneaking a quick glance and then looking away immediately when she takes another sip of her drink, not wanting to know what would happen if you caught another glimpse of those god-sent abs.

“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Jackie asks, nudging your head with hers.

“No, no,” you dismiss. “Just… being a freak. Admiring. God, I’m pathetic.”

Jackie laughs, abruptly standing and pulling you to your feet too. “Come on, babe, time for more drinks, let’s get your mind off of this if you’re not gonna make a move.”

You roll your eyes but follow her to the table of drinks farthest away from Caroline and the other hockey players. You’re not going to do anything, it’s not like you have a chance, and you’re just bored without schoolwork to occupy your every thought.

You take a deep breath, standing next to Jackie and surveying your options. Jackie choses for the both of you, definitely the more experienced party girl, mixing a drink that is majority vodka, making you groan slightly just at the thought of it.

“Here you go!” Jackie smiles, placing the red solo cup into your hand, smiling like she’s not trying to give you alcohol poisoning. Her gaze fixes on something behind you, and you faintly register the way her eyes light up- already a little tipsy from the few shots you’ve done- but you can’t even be bothered to question why.

You eye your drink suspiciously, mentally preparing yourself for the taste.

“Whoops,” Jackie mutters, and you look up at her only to feel her push you back.

“Jackie-” you start, angry, and she quickly scurries away from you. You want to kill her a little bit, at least question her- but you don’t get the chance to.

You gasp as you slam into someone behind you, drink splashing all over your front, alcohol mixing with the rich velvet texture of your shirt in a way that might very well ruin it. You bite your lip, glancing around the room, grateful that the room is so crowded and busy that no one noticed.

“Damn Harvey, knockin’ girls over on and off the ice,” someone laughs. You think you hear the sound of someone lightly hitting another person, followed by a small “ow.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

You turn around, Jackie nowhere to be found, and completely freeze when you realize not only did the person you slammed into have enough decency to ask if you were okay, but that person was fucking Caroline Harvey.

You would have laughed at how cliche it was if you weren’t so secretly exhilarated. The only reason you even had this drink was to stop shamefully staring at her.

But she’s right in front of you… and she looks even better like this, cheeks slightly flushed already from the alcohol, a glint in her eyes.

Her eyes meet yours, staring at you in obvious confusion and concern- “Hey? You okay?”

She places her hand on your waist and you suddenly return back into your body, looking anywhere but her eyes that were literally fucking drowning you.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I’m fine. I’m just, like, really drunk.” You laugh, awkwardly, trying to pretend that you’re talking to just anyone. Trying to pretend like her hand on your waist wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

She smiles, Jesus Christ that fucking smile, your knees go a little weak.

“Oh, good. Would be a shame if that pretty head got a concussion.”

You laugh, staring at her smile. Intoxicating. It’s the only word that comes to mind- maybe enchanted. She’s like some drug, and, God, it’s so stupid but you think you might be addicted after hearing her voice just once.

And, the suddenly, so vividly you almost fall over again, you realize what she said to you.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, effortlessly taking the now pretty much empty red solo cup from you and placing it on the table behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to what you assume is a bathroom, probably where she was originally going. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me KK.”

Your mouth is slightly agape as she leads you through the crowd, and you suddenly pass by Jackie who gives you a big smile and a thumbs up- disappearing into the crowd before you can curse her name.

Fuck it. She’s right in front of you. The alcohol is getting to your head, the dim lighting is making everything hazy- everything except her pretty blue eyes and her intoxicating smile.

“KK,” you say, testing the nickname. “That’s cute. I’m Y/N.”

“That’s cute,” she echoes, and the way you can hear the smile on her voice seriously makes you almost fall over.

Thankfully, the bathroom she leads you to is kind of out of the way, it’s completely empty and the door clicks behind the two of you.

Your mood immediately deflates when you see yourself in the mirror, your top noticeably darker where sticky alcohol has sunk into the fabric.

“Fuck,” you mumble, peeling the sticky fabric from your skin.

Before you can even think to do anything, Caroline- KK- is running a random hand towel under the sink and gesturing to you. You expect her to hand it to you- but she doesn’t.

“Okay if I touch you?”

God in Heaven.

“Y-yeah,” you choke out, feeling your world literally recalibrate when she puts her hand on your shoulder- so fucking close to your neck- to keep you steady. You always thought it was the stereotype that basketball players have big hands, but apparently hockey players do too.

Her hand is really warm. This bathroom is suddenly really warm. Your cheeks are heating up, and as much as you try to tell yourself it’s from the alcohol- you know it’s not.

“Sorry,” she mumbles after a few more seconds. “I don’t think this is gonna do much. Maybe try putting it in the wash, though.”

You sigh, now turned sideways, hip to the bathroom sink, looking at yourself out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine, my friend… bumped into me, and then I backed up straight into you. Not your fault.”

You look up at her, realizing at this close proximity that she’s taller than you, maybe only an inch.

“I might just go home,” you sigh, feeling kind of disgusting in this nasty shirt.

A frown immediately forms on her face.

“Party’s just started, though. Can’t go home yet, baby.”

She wants you to die. She literally wants you to die. She’s secretly an assassin, and you’ve blocked out the memory of some horrible crime you’ve committed, and now she’s here to kill you by calling you baby and having the sexiest abs you’ve ever seen.

Not a bad way to go, though.

“Here,” she says, reaching up and tugging her jersey over her head, again revealing those fucking abs, and she’s left in a black tank top you didn’t even notice the first time you were staring at her abs. “Take my jersey.”

“Oh, no. I can’t, KK. I mean…”

“I was getting hot anyways, it’s good. Take it.”

It’s nicer quality than any other jersey you’ve ever touched before- nicer than the obligatory Wisconsin sweatshirt you bought at the school store.

You cough, taking it with a hand that shakes slightly, not able to look at her.

“…Thank you,” you say after a moment.

She smiles, big and goofy. “It’s no problem. Maybe you can repay me by having a drink with me, though?”

You pretend to think about it, but really you have to knock your knees together so you don’t fall to the floor in excitement.

“That’s a pretty good price.”

You finally meet her eyes, holding your breath as she stares into your eyes like they’re a lifeline.

“Yeah, a drink with my sexy self- pretty good fuckin’ deal.”

You laugh, and she takes a step back, looking you up and down in a way that literally gives you butterflies-

“I’ll let you change,” she says. “Come find me when you’re done, yeah, baby?”

“I’ll find you,” you breathe, turning around to start slipping off your shirt so she doesn’t see the way you literally bite your lip.

The jersey is huge, since they have to be to cover all the padding and gear hockey players wear, and you’re almost worried that you’d look really stupid in it- but your jean bottoms pull it together, somehow.

It smells good. It smells dark, like a forest, still with a hint of something fresh and light. Is this her perfume? You might want to bathe in it.

You still look pretty good, and your mind races, wondering if KK would compliment you in it- but someone bangs on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?!” Jackie. “Y/N? Holy fucking shit- did I just see what I think I saw?!”

Tyla quickly shouts too. “I got dragged away from a really hot guy for this!! Please tell me it’s true!!!”

You open the door wordlessly, holding your hands out wide so Jackie and Tyla can see the the jersey, the Badgers emblem.

“Ladies, hold your applause.”

“What the fuck!” Tyla screams, forcing you to turn around, then tracing a finger along your back, no doubt where Caroline’s last name is printed on. “Harvey. Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“God, she’s so hot,” Jackie groans, and you whip around to shoot her a glare. “Calm down, jealous bitch, I mean this is hot. Fuck, does she have any friends? This red is a good color on me…”

“Well,” you smile, mirroring Jackie’s own “evil” smile from earlier, “She said to come find her and get a drink. With her.”

“A drink…” Tyla breathes. “With… fucking Caroline Harvey?”

“Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“I think I might faint from, like, secondhand hotness.”

“Well,” Jackie starts, looking away from the jersey in awe and back at your face, “You look hot. Go over there right now, get that girl, and make out. Just- right on the couch. Fuck right on the couch.”

“I second that,” Tyla smiles, adjusting the jersey slightly. “Fuck her.”

“Okay, shut up, thanks. We’ll see where the night goes.”

“Oh, my God, I can’t even believe you’re doing this. What happened to my little studious best friend?”

“Alcohol,” you shrug, momentarily wondering if you would regret all of this the next morning- but everything is just so goddamn hazy in this frat house, and you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything other than her.

“Okay, okay,” Tyla says, grabbing your shoulders and staring into your eyes like she’s about to gift you with the greatest wisdom. “You want her to come back?”

You inhale sharply. “Maybe.”

“Okay, well, if this goes good- you gotta leave her before midnight.” She glances at her watch, “It’s 11:06 right now, flirt her and romance her, all that, but leave before midnight, got it?”

“Um… why, though?”

“To keep her guessing, to keep her thinking about you, obviously,” Tyla rolls her eyes. “Trust me girl. We’ll meet you outside at 12 and then take an Uber back, right?”

“Right,” you and Jackie both repeat.

“If you really want her, before midnight, okay?”

“Okay, okay, Tyla. I’ll meet you guys then?”

Jackie pretends to wipe a few tears away. “My girl’s all grown up.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hugging both of them quickly before disappearing into the crowd of people.

—-

You make your way towards a big couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table filled with liquor.

KK’s eyes light up when she sees you, and you notice there’s a conveniently placed empty seat right next to her, and two cups in her hands.

You don’t think anyone has noticed you wearing her jersey yet, and if someone has commented on KK’s lack of jersey, you can’t tell. You smooth it down, take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face.

A seductive one, you hope, one like Tyla would do. And with the way she mirrors your smile with her own- except this one is just as big and goofy- you think it’s working.

“Y/N?”

Someone walks past you, then immediately stops and steps back, looking right at you.

“Yeah-?”

Oh.

“Hi, Dylan,” you mutter, smile falling from your face immediately.

“Y/N. I haven’t seen you in… forever, it feels like. How’ya been?”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m sorry, I’m meeting somebody, okay?” His face falls, and you feel sort of bad, so you add on “Talk soon,” to make yourself feel better.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your arm, eyes moving from yours down to your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing? A jersey?”

“…Yes,” you say after a moment, genuinely confused until you remember how much Dylan despises sports, thinks they’re all just some popularity contest. “Okay, I’m meeting someone. Bye, Dylan.”

“Hi,” a new voice says, and you smile just a bit when you realize it’s Caroline. “I’m Caroline,” she says, ever-so politely, and it kinda makes your stomach twist. “Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”

Dylan’s eyes narrow at her. “No, I’m her ex.”

“Oh, my God,” you mumble to yourself, stepping close to Caroline. “Shut up.”

KK shoots you a look, and you can’t help but avoid your eyes. You tug your arm away from Dylan, but he doesn’t budge.

“Dylan, please,” you sigh. “I have to go, okay? Let go.”

“No, Y/N, come on-”

“Uh, I think she said let go, buddy.” She still has that same smile on her face, but your eyes flick to her exposed arms, now noticing just how much muscle is there too. There’s this glint to her smile, this edge to her voice, and you would genuinely be kinda scared if it was directed at you.

“This doesn’t involve you,” Dylan huffs. “Y/N and I need to talk- why the fuck are you going around trying to purposefully piss me off? You know I hate sports.”

“Dylan,” you start, genuinely having to take a deep breath. “We dated for a week in freshman year. Let go of me, stop embarrassing yourself, and stop talking to us.”

He stares at you, before scoffing and letting your arm drop. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Thank you, Dylan, goodbye.” You turn around, wondering if KK is even going to be there anymore. “I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is his problem?” She says, and you genuinely smile at the pure disgust on her face. “Seriously- what?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle. “It’s just… you’re so, disgusted by him.”

“You aren’t?”

“Well, yeah. But I know him.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I met him once and I never want to meet him again. Weird fucking bitch.”

You laugh again, linking your arm through hers without thinking. “Thanks for trying to defend me, though. I’m sorry- he’s just… an annoying bug that won’t go away, normally he doesn’t talk to me- but I guess he was bored tonight.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I think we lost the seats I saved.”

You look towards the couch, now completely filled with hockey players. “It’s okay,” you hum. “We can find somewhere else. Wanna go outside?”

—-

With the hum of the party behind you, and the stream of people walking out and walking in, the little bench on the corner of the porch was shrouded in darkness, and you felt like you were just in your own little corner with KK.

You sipped on the drink she had gotten you, exchanging basic information like what majors you were taking, how many siblings you had, and al that boring stuff before she finally stopped talking and just looked at you for a moment.

“What?” you asked, wiping some of your sip from around your lips.

She smiles. “Nothing. My jersey just looks nice on you.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “Really? I was worried it didn’t get the same vibe as my original fit.”

“No, I would say you look even better.”

You smile, taking another sip for confidence before you place your hand on her arm. “So, tell me about hockey. Maybe workout routines?”

She laughs. “Workout routines?”

You softly squeeze her bicep. “Well, you don’t get these by just sitting around, do you?”

She takes a sip of her drink, trying to slyly cover her face, and you smile even wider.

“No, you don’t.” When she looks back at you, there’s the faintest hint of something on her cheeks, you don’t move your hand, sinking back into that addiction of making her blush. “Mostly lifting weights, cardio, boring things.”

“M’kay, what about actual hockey? I heard you were an Olympian, right?”

She flexes her other arm, and you can see a tattoo made up of the Olympics logo, intertwining rings, on her inner bicep.

“I’m defense, number 4, and I’m basically the star of the team.”

“Really?” You laugh, pressing your thigh against hers. “Would your other teammates agree with that?”

“Ehhh, maybe don’t ask them so you stay all impressed.”

You smile, and suddenly you realize you’ve been smiling all night ever since you started talking to her. And it feels so good to smile with her, it feels so good to be all giddy, and even when Dylan was bothering you it felt good knowing she was right behind you. And it felt even better when you turned around and she was still behind you.

“Can I have your number?” You blurt out.

“Course, baby.”

You hand her your phone, feeling like a damn middle schooler with a raging crush, and she hands you hers.

You make your contact name Jersey Stealer and she laughs when she sees it, and that sound might be your favorite thing about her- second only to her abs.

You can feel the night coming to the end, but it’s a good end, a comfortable one, and there’s definitely doors unopened and words unsaid. It feels like a really sweet beginning to something really beautiful.

You check your phone, smiling at the contact name of Hockey Star and seeing the time is 11:58.

“My friends are waiting for me,” you say, almost with a grimace. The night is coming to an end but you still don’t want it to end. And like clockwork, you watch as Jackie and Tyla walk out of the party arm in arm- sneaking subtle glances all the way to the end of the driveway, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a tree.

“Oh,” she says. “No problem.”

She sounds disappointed. It makes your stomach twist yet again, to know she doesn’t want this to end as much as you do.

You both stand up and walk to the edge of the porch, down the steps and onto the concrete walkway to the driveway. Somewhere along the way, your hand had slipped into yours.

You stop where concrete meets driveway, turning around to face her. She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of her skin on yours. It feels like an electric rush, like an addictive high.

“I’m really glad I give you a concussion.”

You laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t either.”

She looks from your lips back to your eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that, yes, kissing exists- and you suddenly want to kiss her. Badly.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you go.”

You softly place your hand on her face. You lean forward, placing your lips in a grey area between her cheek and her lips.

“Goodnight, Caroline,” you whisper, an inch away from her skin.

Suddenly she surges forward, lips fully pressing against yours, hand on your waist, and God does the feeling of her lips on yours feel so good, so right.

Oh, God. She’s succeeded in killing you, you think to yourself- everything fading out for a moment before it all comes rushing back in. The sounds of the party, the chill of the nighttime air, and the sweet sweet feeling of Caroline’s lips on yours.

You don’t think your lips will ever recover from this feeling, from the weight of her lips on yours- you’ll always be chasing this feeling, this moment.

Tyla’s words flash in your mind. You revel in this moment for a heartbeat longer until, just as quick as she kissed you, you pull back.

“Didn’t know you were the type to kiss girls on the first date, Harvey. How scandalous.”

She seems disappointed you pulled away. You can see it in her pretty blue eyes- it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.

“Are you really just any girl?”

“Nope,” you smile, silently thanking Tyla and every star in the sky- you can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to kiss you senseless, and if the game didn’t feel so good you would have let her.

And the way she’s looking at you, slightly blown away, completely in awe, lips parted but curling into a smile- it gives you an addictive rush.

“Text me when you want your jersey back.”

You take a step back, softly prying her hand off of your waist, but holding onto it for a moment.

“Oh, no, you can wear that to my next game.”

“Really?” You smile, fingertips grazing the back of her knuckles as she tries to hold onto you, but you eventually let go. “You’ll save me a good seat?”

“The best seat,” she corrects. “For the best girl.”

This time, you don’t bother to try and hide the way she makes you feel. You clench your thighs together and let your tongue dart out to slightly lick your lips.

“I’ll be there. You better win, though.” You turn around, then look over your shoulder to see her eyes fall down to your ass.

“With a pretty good luck charm like you? I’ll probably score the winning goal.”

“Bye, Caroline,” you say over your shoulder, smiling so brightly you’re sure you look all lovesick. You can’t care, it’s just how you feel for her. Maybe you should be embarrassed, the way she makes you feel kinda like silly putty in her hands, but it feels so good. So right.

“Bye, Y/N.” Her voice is breathy.

And when you check your phone, you see it’s after midnight. So much for Tyla’s advice.

But, you think to yourself, shoes clicking on concrete and KK’s gaze on your back, you kissed her after midnight- maybe all the good things just happen after midnight.

—-

laila when kk hit her for saying the taking girls down on and off the ice thing: 😞😞😞💔💔💔💔💔

y/n also being happy that she left kk AFTER midnight bc she doesn’t just want her she actually likes her

jackie and tyla wingwoman supremes i love them sm

dylan you are annoying i wish you suffering

[cinnabunwanda]

We shouldn't be doing this ･ ｡ﾟNatasha Ramnoff

content warning — Smut, Shower Sex, Degration Kink, Mommy Kink, Angst

pairing — Fem Reader X Natasha Romanoff

summary — Steve, an avenger, faces tension with his girlfriend Natasha at a shindig. Wanda suggests they make a great couple, but the protagonist refuses. Natasha admires their friendship, asks to fuck him, and makes him feel vulnerable.

word count — 6.0k

Life as an avenger was a constant rollercoaster of danger and responsibility. One day, we could be on the hunt for an Alien threatening to destroy the world, and the next we could be in a high-level meeting discussing how to utilize our powers and resources for the good of humanity.

But even superheroes needed a break, and when we did get some time off, the team liked to spend it together. Tonight was one of those rare occasions.

"What's on the agenda tonight?" I asked Tony, always the mastermind behind our group outings.

"Well, my dear comrades, I have decided to throw a little shindig for us. Drinks, dancing, games...the whole nine yards," he grinned mischievously at all of us.

"The crew? Are you twelve years old?" Bucky teased him.

"Hey now, don't be boosting his ego too much. He's ancient," Sam chimed in with a sly smile.

"Says the man born in the 20s," Tony retorted playfully.

"Well, if Nat's going then count me in," I declared, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Actually, Nat won't be joining us tonight. We have a date," Steve announced proudly, looking at his girlfriend with adoration in his eyes.

Natasha looked back at him with confusion written all over her face. Clearly, she had no idea about this so-called date Steve had planned.

Tony shot me a look that said "uh-oh, trouble." I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his expression, but when everyone turned to look at me, I quickly diverted my attention to my water bottle.

"Nat is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," I spoke up honestly after disposing of my empty bottle.

I was sick and tired of Steve treating Natasha like he owned her. She was my best friend and under no one's spell. I couldn't understand what she saw in him, especially since they were always bickering, but I admired her for standing up to him. His mind was still stuck in the 20s.

"Stay out of my relationship," Steve snapped at me, his tone harsh and accusatory.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Natasha slammed her hands on the table, her voice filled with frustration.

"What did you just say?" Steve's anger was evident in his eyes.

"You heard me. Don't. Talk. To. Her. Like. That," Natasha spat back at him.

And so it began, another argument between the two of them. Tony, Bucky, and Sam quickly made their escape, and I attempted to do the same, but Natasha called out my name, causing me to pause and turn back towards them.

"Why do you always drag her into our problems? Leave her out of this," Steve shouted at Natasha.

"I'll involve whoever I want to. You don't own me, Steve. I'm sick of this bullshit," Natasha shot back fiercely.

I wanted nothing more than to leave and take a nice hot shower to escape the tension in the room. I speed-walked down the hallway but bumped into Wanda along the way. She smiled sympathetically at me before glancing down the hallway where we could still hear Nat and Steve going at it.

"They're fighting again? What happened now?" Wanda asked in disbelief.

"I know, can you believe it's already the fourth time today? Tony was planning a team get-together and Nat said she would go, but then Steve said she couldn't, and well...you can hear how that turned out," I explained, nodding my head towards the source of the commotion down the hall.

Wanda sighed and shook her head in exasperation before turning back to face me.

"You and Nat would make a great couple, you know," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Excuse me? Me and Nat? No way. She's Nat, and besides, she's my best friend," I laughed off the suggestion.

"Y/n, your thoughts are too loud to hide from me. Just something to think about," Wanda said with a knowing smile before walking away.

As I continued on my way to the shower, I couldn't help but wonder if Wanda was right. Maybe there was more to my feelings for Natasha than just friendship. But for now, all I wanted was a peaceful evening without any drama or arguments.

As I walked away from her, a thin smile graced my lips in response to her comment about my secrets. With each step, the sound of my feet hitting the ground echoed through the hallway. Suddenly, I heard her voice ring out behind me.

"I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYONE, DON'T WORRY!" she shouted after me.

Ignoring her, I sent her a defiant middle finger and continued on my way to my room. Once inside, I quickly gathered all of my shower essentials and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes and tossing them carelessly into a corner, I was interrupted by the sudden intrusion of someone barging into my room.

"Ugh, this better be important. I'm about to take a shower," I called out irritably.

To my surprise, it was Natasha standing in front of me with a weight seemingly lifted off her shoulders. Concerned, I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out into my room to face her.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked gently.

Without hesitation, she scanned me up and down with clear admiration in her eyes. Our friendship had always been like this - playful flirtation and pretending to be each other's girlfriends to ward off unwanted advances from guys.

"Eyes up here, Romanoff," I warned as her gaze lingered on my chest.

"Kiss me," she stated bluntly.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing that she had a boyfriend and not wanting to complicate things between us.

"Nat...as much as I would love for you to...you know...fuck me...you have a boyfriend and I don't want to-"

"Y/n, listen. Steve and I aren't together anymore. So please just let me fuck you until you can't walk," she said earnestly, looking directly into my eyes.

I couldn't help but feel conflicted as she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. They were just as soft and inviting as I remembered, and I couldn't resist kissing her back. Lost in the moment, we stumbled towards the bathroom, our hands desperately tugging at each other's clothes.

Once inside, Natasha pulled away from me with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Let's get rid of these," she said playfully, gesturing to my towel.

"I like them where they are," I teased back, unable to take my eyes off of her.

"Baby, I thought you wanted me to fuck you," she pouted, running her fingers along my jawline.

"I do," I whined, feeling more turned on by the second.

"Well then, let's remove this obstacle," she whispered seductively before nibbling on my ear as she tugged on my towel.

"Mmmh, I think you're right, Natty," I replied breathlessly.

In one swift motion, she pulled down my towel so that I was standing fully naked in front of her. Her eyes roamed over my body with hunger and desire, making me feel small and vulnerable under her intense gaze.

"You are going to be so much fun," she murmured, tracing her finger lightly over my chest before pushing me into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over my body, I couldn't help but let out a slight moan. Natasha stepped in behind me and pressed her body against mine, her lips crashing onto mine once again. As our tongues tangled and hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, I couldn't believe what was happening. And as she pinned me against the wall of the shower and continued to ravish me with kisses and touches, I knew that this would be a night to remember.

The hot steamy shower added so much passion into our little hookup. It made everything way more hotter than normal. The way Natasha's red hair looked as the water trickled down her body was a sight I will never forget.

She placed her hands on my thighs and tapped on them. She picked me up and I wrapped myself around her waist. I began to try and grind myself to try get some sort of friction which worked for a minute as I grinded myself on her abs but when she realised what I was doing she stopped me

"Such a desperate little whore aren't you? Look at you so pathetic trying to get yourself off by using my abs" she degraded me

I could feel myself get wet at her choice of words. I was dumbfounded and my moth couldn't even form words.

"You like that? You like it when I call you a whore baby?" She smiled evilly at me

There definitely was a pool between my legs at this point. She kept staring into my eyes when she spoke to me which made it harder to keep eye contact when she was saying these hypnotising things

"Answer me slut" she snarled

"Ye-yes mommy I do" I replied with a smirk once I pulled myself together

She wore her famous smirk on her face as she stared into my eyes. "Mommy? God I love that" she smirked

She began to attack my body with kisses. Sucking,biting and leaving marks all along my neck,chest shoulders you name it she marked it. She slammed us against the wall and I slowly got off her waist moaning quietly at her marking my body

She placed her knee between my thighs so my pussy was resting on her knee. She pushed it up hard causing me to moan loudly and my moan echoed around the room I quickly covered my mouth but Nat grabbed my wrist and removed my hand from my mouth

"I want to hear those pretty moans, go on scream shout let everyone know that Starks golden child is being fucked by the black widow" she said with lust in her eyes and voice

She gripped both of her hands on my waist and began to harshly push my hips into her knee. The pleasure shot through my body sending shivers down my spine.

"GOD NAT" I moaned loudly

She smirked wildly at me and began to slow down. Which was horrible I needed a release the knot that once was in my stomach had disappeared. My head was resting on Natasha's shoulder.

"Ple-please Nat I NEED you" i panted

"What, you have me what more could you want" she slowed down even more

"Mommy please your killing me" I breathed out

"Such a little slut aren't we? Be a good girl and beg for it" she instructed me

"Please please mommy let me finish all over your knee, I will be a good girl-please mommy" I begged

"Go on get yourself off I want to watch you" she smirked at me

She let go of my hips and I began to grind myself down onto her knee. It felt so good, moans began to fall out of my mouth. I picked up the paste and I could feel my tits bouncing as I moved up and down on her. I had my eyes shut and I threw my head back in pleasure when she flexed her leg.

I opened my eyes and seen Natasha was fingering herself. God it was hot. I shoved 3 of my fingers in her and she moaned

"YES Y/N RIGHT THERE" I picked up the pace

I could feel the knot in my stomach again. I was so close. I could tell Natasha was too by the way she was pulsing on my fingers.

"I'm so close mommy" I moaned

Natasha's moans echoed through the bathroom as I thrust a fourth finger inside of her without warning. Her legs flexed and she threw her head back, lost in pleasure. I quickened my pace, my body on the verge of climaxing.

"PLEASE NAT, I CAN'T HOLD IT!" I cried out, overcome with desire. "Cum on me," she moaned in response.

The sound of our passionate encounter filled the small bathroom, but in that moment, we didn't care who could hear us. My fingers continued to move inside of Natasha as she reached her peak, her release coating my hand.

We collapsed against each other, panting and exhausted. I rested my head against her neck and she nestled hers into mine, peppering light kisses along my skin.

"Holy- fuck," she panted between breaths. "That was...the best shower of my life."

I breathed out a laugh and nodded in agreement. But just as we were starting to relax and catch our breath, Natasha reminded me that we had plans for the evening.

"We should get ready for tonight. That is, if you're still going..." I told her hesitantly.

"Y/n, if you're going, I am going," she said with a smile.

I bit my lip nervously and flashed a shy smile in return. We exited the shower and wrapped towels around our bodies before parting ways to get dressed. As I put on my favorite red dress, revealing just enough cleavage to make it daring yet elegant, Wanda burst into my room with excitement.

"Oh my God!" she squealed. "Natasha and Steve broke up!"

My acting skills came into play as I pretended to be shocked and happy by this news. Wanda bought it completely.

"No way! Really? You're not joking with me?" I exclaimed.

"I wouldn't do that to you!" She laughed. "How did you find out?"

"I overheard Steve telling Bucky," she informed me.

"I thought Natasha and I were the spies here, not you witchy," I teased her.

"That's not the only thing you and Natasha are," she smirked.

"What are we, Wanda?" I turned to face her.

"Each other's future wives," she smirked again.

I rolled my eyes playfully while trying to hide my blush. But Wanda was right, there was definitely something special between Natasha and me.

"You look beautiful, by the way. Is that for Vision?" I joked with a wink.

"Shut up, I can dress up for myself, you know!" Wanda shook her head in mock annoyance.

"Mmhm, yeah, but that dress is new and I know you wouldn't wear it unless you were planning to impress him," I teased as we linked arms and made our way down the hallway.

"Well, I could say the same. We both know a certain spy's favorite color is red," Wanda joked back as we walked.

"But how do you know I'm not trying to impress you? Your favorite color is red too," I responded with a sly smile.

"Well, if that's the case..." she smiled mischievously and we both burst out laughing.

As we entered the main room, still giggling about our love lives, we noticed that it was practically empty except for Tony, Maria, Steve, Vision, and Natasha.

"Well, isn't this quite the party," Wanda quipped at Tony as we approached the small group.

My laughter echoed through the spacious room as I stood with Wanda, trying to decide who to talk to first. There were so many people to choose from in this tower, and we were all gathered here for some unknown reason. "You two give it up," Tony commented, rolling his eyes. "People are coming, unlike you two. Some of us have lives outside of this tower." Maria smirked at me, her gaze lingering on my face. "Well, Y/n certainly does," she said suggestively. "What are you on about, Ms. Hill?" Vision asked curiously. "From the looks of it, Y/n has had some fun recently," Maria grinned, gesturing towards my neck.

Suddenly, everyone's attention turned to me. What was Maria talking about? Wanda slapped my arm playfully. "Miss Y/L/N! What is that on your neck?" she gasped. "It appears to be a hickey, I believe," Vision stated loudly. "WHO HAS A HICKEY?!" Sam's voice boomed as he and the rest of the group descended down the stairs. "Y/N!" Maria exclaimed, causing everyone to focus their attention on me.

I blushed furiously as they began to bombard me with questions. "When did this happen?" Bucky smirked mischievously. "Doesn't matter, it's none of anyone's business," I replied coolly as I sat down on the couch and grabbed a beer from the cooler.

"Okay, so it had to be recently, like in the last 2-3 days," Carol calculated, her eyes scanning my appearance. Tony looked disgusted while Bruce seemed uncomfortable and kept shifting in his seat.

"But Y/n doesn't leave the compound," Wanda announced defensively. "I do too!" I defended myself, feeling slightly hurt by their disbelief.

"I mean, she clearly does," Rhodes pointed at my neck accusingly. "Can we stop talking about this?" I asked, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, please, can we?" Tony pleaded, looking like he was about to have a heart attack. "But-" Vision started to say.

"Yes, Vis?" Wanda interrupted him. "If Y/n went out and had intercourse with another person...well, that's impossible," Vision stated matter-of-factly.

"How is it impossible?" I asked, confused by his statement. "You haven't left the compound in 4 days apart from that mission, and unless you slept with someone from Hydra 4 days ago, plus the fact that those hickeys look somewhat fresh...it's impossible that you had intercourse elsewhere...plus-" Vision was suddenly cut off by a loud outburst from Tony.

"STOP! STOP! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Tony yelled, causing everyone to turn their attention towards him. I could see the shock on Rhodey's face as he exclaimed, "Stark, seriously?! She's half your age!"

My eyes went wide as I realized what they were all hinting at. "Ewww, no! No, we didn't," Tony defended himself quickly.

"Stop it now, please," I begged as I placed my hands over my face in embarrassment.

Tony stood up abruptly and walked over to the bar, while Natasha sat smirking and sipping her beer. Bruce also seemed preoccupied with Nat, which wasn't unusual since they were close friends. "Wait, so Y/n brought someone to her room and slept with them?" Carol looked around at the group.

"It isn't anyone here," I said quickly, trying to deflect the attention away from myself.

"I'm going to join Tony at the bar," Bruce announced suddenly, trying to make a quick escape. But Carol and Maria stopped him. "You know something, Brucey. What is it?" Maria interrogated him.

"Leave the poor guy alone," Nat defended him, giving Bruce a reassuring glance.

"Come on, aren't you dying to find out who she slept with?" Carol asked Nat eagerly.

"Of course I am, but we all know Mr. Anger over here gets uncomfortable easily," Nat teased back, causing Maria and Wanda to laugh.

"Oh, Witchy Witchy," Maria smirked at Wanda, who responded with an equally mischievous grin as she slowly walked over to Bruce.

I could see the worry in Bruce's eyes as he sent a quick glance my way. Fuck, he must have overheard something. I gave him a questioning look, hoping he knew something that could explain this situation. He looked away, his expression filled with concern. Damn, he definitely heard something.

With a sudden burst of energy, Sam practically leapt 6 feet in the air, exclaiming, "HE KNOWS WHO IT IS!"

"NO- GUYS I DONT," he quickly defended himself as everyone turned to look at him.

"DO IT NOW WANDA," Bucky smirked at her, urging her to reveal the identity.

I glanced at Nat and Bucky, who were sitting closely beside each other. Dread filled me as I realized that soon everyone would know.

"Guys, who actually cares who she slept with?" Steve groaned, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"Everyone apparently," Nat shot back, glaring at him. "Well Tony doesn't, nor do I," he began to walk away.

"Well you would care," Bruce murmured quietly under his breath.

"What was that Brucey?" Wanda smirked playfully. "Hmmmmm?" He acted dumb, but we all knew what he had said.

"Let him go guys please, this is embarrassing for me. It's my life, not yours," I pleaded with them, trying to diffuse the tension.

But my efforts were in vain as Wanda's smirk grew wider and red wisps of energy emanated from her hands. She was reading Bruce's mind. Suddenly, she gasped and Bruce quickly ran to Tony, apologizing frantically.

"I'M SO SORRY Y/N!" he shouted over his shoulder as he rushed away.

"OH MY GOD," Wanda smirked at me, her eyes glinting mischievously. "WHO IS IT?"

"WITCHY TELL US!" Maria exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

Wanda paused for a moment before announcing with a sly smile, "It's someone in this room."

The group erupted into a frenzy of questions, desperate to uncover the truth. Maria gasped in shock while Carol couldn't hide her curiosity.

"Okay, who was getting it on with Y/n?" Sam's wide smirk displayed his eagerness to know.

"It could be a girl," Natasha pretended it wasn't her and shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's funny," Steve commented, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"So what if it is a girl, Steve? It's my body, not yours," I deflected his judgmental comment.

"Well, it's wrong," he argued back, causing me to roll my eyes in frustration.

"Wanda..." Maria turned to her, hoping she would reveal more information.

I gave Wanda a pleading look, but she shook her head at me. Little witch.

"I'll give you all a hint: their favorite color is red," Wanda began, enjoying the power she held over everyone's thoughts.

"Okay, so that rules out Sam and Nat. Plus, we already established that it isn't Tony or Natasha," Maria listed off potential suspects in the room.

Vision looked relieved at being cleared as a suspect, and I couldn't help but find it cute in that moment. But then reality hit once again.

"Okay, to cut ties. Sam had no clue, so that's him out," Clint suggested logically. "And let's be real, we all know he wouldn't be able to pull Y/n anyway."

Sam was highly offended by this insinuation and tried to argue his case, but I quickly shut him down. Natasha smirked at me for turning him down while the rest of the group joined in on teasing him.

"Well then that leaves two possibilities: Bucky's exes Nat and Steve," Bucky stated matter-of-factly. My heart sank at the thought of either of them being involved.

Steve was busy chatting with Tony and Bruce at the bar, completely unaware of the conversation happening right next to them.

"Well, it has to be one of them. Maybe they used Y/n as a rebound since they just broke up," Carol suggested, causing me to feel even more upset.

"I'm not some lousy one night stand," I interjected, feeling hurt by the words being thrown around.

"Are we correct that it is one of them, Wanda?" Vision asked politely, trying to move the conversation along.

"Yes, you are," she confirmed with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, I could be right then," Carol shrugged her shoulders confidently.

"You really think that?" I asked sadly.

"Well, I mean, it is strange that they broke up and whoever it is ran to you. Maybe they did it as a way to get back at Steve for something," Carol said without thinking.

I sat there in shock as Maria slapped her on the arm for her insensitivity.

"My money is on Steve. He's always had a thing against Y/n and it would make sense if it was an enemies-to-lovers situation," Sam boomed confidently.

"Nah, I think it has to be Nat. If we're going off of what Carol said, she would want to get under Steve's skin by sleeping with his best friend who he dislikes," Thor chimed in with his own theory.

Everyone began agreeing with Thor and even I couldn't help but consider their theories. After all, Nat and Steve were always on-again-off-again. But the thought of either one of them using me as a pawn in their love triangle made my stomach churn.

As I looked at her, my heart ached and tears began to fill my eyes. She was about to say something before she was stopped by Tony's outburst.

"STOP IT! Can't you all see what this is doing to her? Look at her, she is on the verge of tears. You are all making her feel like a piece of shit, like some cheap hooker," Tony defended me passionately.

I looked up and saw Bruce standing next to him, offering his support. Tony protectively placed his hands on my shoulders while Bruce sat beside me, gently placing his hand on my knee in an attempt to comfort me.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. We have all gone to Y/n with our secrets at one point or another, and she has never said a word. Is this how you want to repay her? By speaking about her personal life with such lack of empathy?" Bruce's tone was harsh as he scolded the group.

A tear streamed down my face, which I quickly wiped away as everyone's eyes turned to me. I could feel their gaze, but some were shamefully looking at the ground. Without warning, I felt someone wrap their arms around me from behind - it was Natasha.

"Well, I'm telling you now it wasn't me," Wanda spoke up with a smile.

I wrapped my arms around her, taking in her comforting scent. She truly gave the best hugs. As I cried softly into her shoulder, all the hurtful thoughts and accusations that had been swirling in my mind disappeared.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered softly to me.

But suddenly, everything came flooding back as I remembered what they had done. "No, please get off of me," I pushed Wanda away and stood up.

Feeling disgusted and betrayed, I walked away from the group. Carol was right; Natasha had used me to get under Steve's skin, and he watched me leave with a smug grin on his face - I could see it from a mile away.

From Natasha's point of view, Y/n had just stormed out of the main hall. As she looked at the rest of the group, they all wore expressions of guilt. Anger rose up in Natasha like never before.

"Baby, did you do this to make me jealous?" Steve approached her.

"Don't fucking call me that," Natasha snapped at him.

"In fact, I don't want any of you to even call me your friend anymore. None of you are my friends after what you did tonight. The only people who I consider friends are Tony and Bruce. The rest of you are just horrible colleagues that I have to put up with," she yelled at them.

"Nat, we're sorry. We didn't think she would..." Wanda started to apologize, but Natasha cut her off.

"Out of all the people, you were the last person I expected to do this to her - to us," Natasha said, disappointment evident in her voice.

"Actually, no, scratch that. I didn't think any of you would be so cruel. But here we are. So since you all are dying to know - YES, I slept with Y/n. And NO, Carol, it wasn't to get back at Steve. It was because I genuinely love her with every piece of my body, and I would die for her. It was the best experience I've ever had because I was with someone who truly cares not only for me but for everyone around her. Y/n would go to hell and back for any one of you. So fuck you all," Natasha stormed out.

She went to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Frantically changing into her comfortable pajamas, she grabbed Y/n's favorite hoodie which always goes missing when she's away on missions. Determined to fight for her and prove her love, Natasha left her room and went down to find Y/n's room. She had to show her girl that she was willing to go to great lengths for their love.

Your POV

The weight of disappointment and hurt settled heavily on my chest. With a heavy heart, I trudged to my room, eager to shed the facade of happiness that I had worn all day. Taking comfort in soft, loose clothes, I wiped away the thick layer of makeup and let myself succumb to tears.

As I lay in bed, memories of Natasha and the events of the day flooded my mind. How could I have been so naive? Of course she slept with me as a way to get back at Steve. The realization stung like a fresh wound.

But amidst the pain and betrayal, one moment stood out - our encounter in the shower. For a brief moment, she had smiled at me with genuine affection before kissing me again. Was it all just a ploy to manipulate me?

My thoughts spiraled into self-doubt and anger towards my friends, especially Wanda for exposing my vulnerability and feelings for Natasha.

"Why did I trust her?" I cried to myself.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, but I ignored it. Using my powers to lock the door, I refused to let anyone in unless it was Bruce or Tony. But they persisted and eventually picked the lock.

Ready to defend myself with my magic, I sat up on the bed as they entered. To my surprise, it was Natasha who walked in with a gentle expression on her face.

"Did you not hear me? Last time I checked, you're not Tony or Bruce," I sniffled, trying to regain composure.

"I may not have a clean record like them, but I promise you, I'm not here to hurt you," she spoke softly as she approached me.

"Nat, please just go away," I pleaded.

"You'll have to make me if you want that to happen," she challenged with determination in her eyes.

I braced myself, ready to use my powers against her despite my reluctance to do so. But her words and gaze softened me, and I slowly dissipated the energy ball in my hands.

"That's it, Natasha. It's just me," she whispered, sitting at the end of my bed with a familiar hoodie in her hand - my favorite one.

But even the comfort of my cherished item couldn't ease the disgust I felt towards myself. "Giving me this hoodie won't change how I feel about what happened," I told her bitterly.

Her face fell at my harsh words, and for a moment, I regretted lashing out. But I pushed away any guilt and continued, "Why wouldn't I be disgusted? You slept with me to spite Steve, and now everyone sees me as a cheap whore you use when you need a boost."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she asked softly, "Is that how little you think of me?"

I paused, realizing I had let my hurt and anger cloud my judgment. "You're not denying it, so yes, I did think that lowly of you – no, wait, that's not true." My voice cracked with emotion. "I don't want to believe that about you."

"Y/n, listen to me. I didn't sleep with you to get back at Steve. I don't care about his opinion. But I care about yours," she pleaded with sincerity etched on her features.

She gazed into my eyes, her expression filled with sincerity and love. "You're not some cheap hooker or a whore, Y/n. I slept with you because I have real feelings for you. I couldn't resist acting on them the first chance I got," she confessed to me.

I felt a lump form in my throat as her words touched my heart. I was about to respond when she silenced me with a gentle kiss. My body responded instantly, melting into her touch. She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving tears in my eyes.

"Why the tears?" she asked, cupping my face in her hands.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Nat. It wasn't fair of me to judge you like that," I apologized, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Don't worry about that. I'm okay. Let's talk about it and I'll help you through it, if you want me to," she reassured me, rubbing my cheek tenderly.

I couldn't shake off the looks of judgement from everyone at the party. They made me feel dirty and ashamed. I know some of it may have been in my head, but Carol's words really got to me and made sense. I had been suppressing my feelings for Nat for so long, thinking they were wrong and that no one would accept us. But then we shared that moment in the shower and it felt right, until Carol's words brought all my doubts rushing back.

"Fuck it. I'm so in love with you," I blurted out, tears streaming down my face now.

Nat looked at me with so much love in her eyes that it made my heart swell with emotion. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and buried my head in her shoulder while she drew soothing patterns on my back.

"Thank you for listening to me," I mumbled against her.

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," she replied sweetly.

We pulled away and I took the jumper from her lap and put it on. She chuckled at me and I pulled her into my bed, pulling the covers over us. We both decided to keep our relationship private, but not a secret.

"You looked breathtaking tonight," Nat complimented me, her eyes filled with admiration.

"Thank you. The dress was for you," I blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"But I have to say, you are effortlessly gorgeous," she said with a smile.

"That's not true," I shook my head.

"Yes, it is. Even right now, lying here next to me. You are perfect in every way," I whispered softly.

"I'm not perfect, Y/n. Trust me," she said honestly.

"ты всегда будешь идеальной в моих глазах Наталья Романова," I whispered against her lips, reminding her of how perfect she will always be in my eyes.

She smiled into the kiss and lightly held onto my waist as I gently ran my fingers through her red hair.

"Не важно что," I mumbled against her lips, reaffirming that nothing else mattered to me.

"When did you learn Russian?" she asked with a curious smile.

"I learned it for you a while ago. I'm now fluent," I bragged a little, feeling proud of myself.

"How come you never spoke it before?" she questioned playfully.

"I was learning it to ask you out, but then you started dating Steve and all I knew how to say at the time was 'Natasha Romanoff, will you go out with me?' and 'I love you'," I laughed a little at the memory.

"Stop, please tell me you're lying," she groaned, burying her head into my chest in embarrassment.

"Unfortunately, no. But I continued to learn it so I could say things to you without the team knowing," I smiled softly at her.

Nat's eyes sparkled with love and adoration as she leaned in for another kiss, grateful for our secret language that only we shared.

My heart skipped a beat as her beautiful smile lit up her face. "Wait, you learned how to say 'I love you'?" she asked, looking up at me with shining eyes. "Yeah, it was one of the first things my teacher taught me," I replied, a fond smile tugging at my lips.

"Say it in Russian for me," she requested, her smile growing wider.

"But you already know how to say it in Russian," I said, confused by her request.

"Amuse me," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

My heart swelled with adoration as I spoke the words in Russian: "Я люблю вас."

Her smile softened and she echoed the words back to me: "я тоже тебя люблю, Y/N." It felt like an exchange of promises, a declaration of our feelings for each other.

She leaned in and kissed me, and I eagerly returned the gesture. In that moment, as we stood there with our arms wrapped around each other, I knew that I never wanted to be anywhere without her. She had tricked me into saying those three little words, but they were more than just words. They were a reflection of what we both felt deep in our hearts - love.

©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

[ultralightpoe]

Full House - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Wow. I think I went too far with these, lmao.

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: Dad!Eddie. That's it.

Description: Stepdad!Eddie and his girls that gives nothing but Uncle Jesse Vibes.

Part ll HERE

(Thank you for the gif @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal )

Enjoy!

(Eddie is not the step dad, he is the dad that stepped up)

Eddie Munson was many things in life. 

Triple senior, Satanic Freak, Dungeon Master, High School Graduate, Vecna survivor, Waynes son, and now Mechanic shop owner. But his favorite title came by accident, a truly brilliant accident of course. 

Nancy and Steve had planned a vacation for themselves, the first vacation they had since the birth of their adorable son Edward…..okay they named their kid Vince but Eddie thought that name was ugly and had spent the past 5 years continuously mocking them over it. So, in everything Eddie, he had named him Edward Jr. this week. 

Anyways, Nancy and Steve were having a very lovely trip at Niagara Falls while the rest of the group watched little man. While Eddie was at work Joyce Byers took him, and when Eddie had gigs Dustin took him and they ‘studied’ together which meant Dustin used him as an excuse to play games rather than study for his senior year. 

It was all going splendidly, until Eddie got a call in the middle of his work shift telling him that he would have to go down to the school immediately since Edward Jr -Vincent, had gotten into a little bit of a fight. 

So Eddie booked it, still in his greased out mechanic suit, a bandana on his head and the biggest concern that Steve’s kid would be kicked out of his school while he was away. What had he done to the kids? Had he broken their noses? Made them bleed?

Here was the problem, Eddie forgot that he was talking about Steve Harrington's kid, so when he arrived at the school to see his nephew bleeding and whimpering he realized the mistake. Vinny had gotten beat up, not the other way. 

“What happened, bud? Who did this to you?” Eddie was gonna fuck a kid up, he was gonna scalp someones son. He was going to absolutely annihilate some random ass boy. 

His nephew whimpers, using the back of his hand to wipe away a fresh tear as Eddie takes a gentle hand to assess the damage. “L/n….” 

Eddie was gonna kill this L/n punk. “What’d he do? He been bullying you?”

“You must be Mr. Harrington.” A saccharine voice fills the air, drawing his attention up to an older woman with narrowed eyes. 

“No, I’m Vinny’s uncle actually. Eddie Munson.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand which the woman glares at, and he realizes then that he was still covered in grease. So he pulls his hand back, embarrassed and nervous. “Sorry about that, rushed from work-”

“Never mind that. Let’s go.” The teacher nods her head. “You too Vincent.”

Eddie, now partially annoyed by the use of his nephews full name in such a tone, grabs his hand into his own and follows the old bat into the office where two more three more figures sit. The sight before him makes him stop, blinking slowly as a heat crosses his skin. 

Was he blushing? Shit, he was. 

Sat in the chair is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with a small baby in her lap and a small girl softly crying sitting on the edge of the chair, hiding half her face in the womans shoulder. 

“Have a seat Mr. Minson.” The old bat snaps, moving around the desk to sit in the cushioned chair. 

“Munson.” Eddie corrects, sitting in the chair beside yours while trying to keep it cool. Vinny takes the arm of the chair, holding onto some of the fabric of Eddie’s jumpsuit tightly. The woman blatantly ignores him as she shuffles around some of the papers on her desk. So Eddie turns to you slowly, holding out his hand again. “Eddie Munson.”

“Y/n L/n.” You smile, taking his hand in your own. “I am so sorry about your son-”

“I prefer the parents not to talk until I explain.” Old bat snaps out making Eddie sit up straighter. “I brought you both in here because it seems that Motley has violently assaulted Vinn-”

“ASSAULTED?! They are 5!” You snap out as the girl, Motley, begins crying which leads the little baby in your lap to start crying as well. And right on cue Vinny himself starts crying. 

“Woah woah woah.” Eddie starts, pulling his nephew closer. “Bud, why don’t you explain what happened here?”

“She hit me!”

“He pushed me!”

“And then she bit me!”

“He pulled my hair!”

“Okay, ease it up.” You sigh, rubbing Motley’s back in soothing circles. “I am so sorry about your son, and I will totally get if you’re upset but they are 5 and I don’t really know about the assault word-”

“Miss. L/n.” Old bat interrupts but Eddie shakes his head. He will just handle this just as Nancy liked to parent. 

“What can make this better, huh Vinny? Like your dad always says, an apology?”

“Y-yeah….” Vinny whimpers which makes Eddie smile and imitate the whimper voice. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you can apologize, Motley?” You ask and Motley sticks out her tongue to Vinny.  Eddie tries to hold in his laugh at this, the little metal head was not backing down. “Motley.”

“Fine. I’m sorry Vincent.” She snaps out. “But the next time you pull my hair-”

“I think we got it.” Eddie laughs, picking his nephew up. “Let’s go get some ice cream and forget all about it.”

He smiles at the principal before tearing out of the room, keeping Vinny held above the ground as he rushes out of the school. He is rushing too fast to hear you calling behind him, until they make it out of the school. 

“Wait! Sir-” He turns, blushing wildly as he attempts a smile. You smile back, still holding the little baby in your arms and Motleys hand. “I am so sorry about all of that. Motley has been a bit…. Aggressive since her dad left. How about we all go get ice cream and it’ll be on me today?”

And then Eddie, as terrible as it is, gets excited. That meant your single, single and very pretty. So he smiles. “Sounds metal to me.”

The giggle that escaped Motley makes him happy. 

Soon enough Eddie found his entire world wrapped around his three ladies. You, the little 5 year old named Motley and the little baby Ziggy. (Both named after rock music. You don’t like it then name em something else.) 

His life did an entire tilt and he found himself going from the freak to being ‘Daddy Eddie’ as his girls liked to call him. 

- 

“Lemme get the straight.” Eddie starts, holding up one finger and leaning back as he takes in the scene before him, Motley covered head to toe in flour and smiling from ear to ear. “The bag of flour just happened to knock down from the shelf and fall on you?”

“Yup.” The girl nods, still smiling. 

“And you don’t know how the step stool got there?”

“It was there when I walked by.” She shrugs. 

“I see. And you didn’t know that we hid the cookies on that shelf?”

“You do?!” She feigns shock, bringing both hands up to slap her cheeks. “What a coincidently.”

“Yeahhhhh. What a coincidently.” He imitates, bringing his own hands up to slap his cheeks in shock, trying very hard not to laugh at this entire thing. From her covered in flour, or her grammar and especially not the innocent act. Do not laugh. Do not laugh.

  “Motley! What did you do?!” You cry, coming into the kitchen in the pajama shorts Eddie loved so much, to see your daughter covered in your flour. 

You had both been in bed…..snuggling….. When you heard the sound of bowls falling. 

“I am innocent!” Motley cries, waving her hands like she truly could not believe you would think it was her. 

“She’s innocent!” Eddie follows, doing the same as her. “Tell her you want a lawyer, Mot.”

“Motley, do not-”

“I want a lawn mower!” She snaps out before you could warn her away from it. The room falls silent for a second after her words slip out and both you and Eddie try to control yourselves, but before you know it you are cracking up. 

Tears springing from your eyes as you cackle, Eddie finds himself using one arm to lean against the wall as his other arm holds his ribs, pained to be laughing so hard. 

“What’s so funny?” Motley asks, a puff of flour blowing out as she giggles herself which just sends you and Eddie into yet another laughing fit.  “Mama! Daddy Eddie!” 

“What Mot?” You laugh, swiping the tears from your eyes. 

“You’re being mean!” “Aww, we’re sorry Motty.” Eddie coos, moving closer as you do as well. Before she knows it you are both launching to hug and kiss at her, covering both of you with flour as she giggles and screams to escape. 

Eddie steals her another cookie before you take her to the bathroom to shower her off, you both lay with her to read for bed before you lead him back to your room, taking a shower together before going to bed yourselves. 

- 

Eddie was completely at peace, laying on the couch after a long day at work, with Ziggy laying on his chest slobbering all over his shirt. Motley laid on his legs, her head shoved between his hip and the couch as she snored away. 

They were sick, and you were in the kitchen making some chicken soup. Eddie had been in charge of getting them showered and ready for dinner, the only problem was the steam from the shower had cleared their noses which meant about 10 minutes of getting them both to blow into a tissue. And by the time that was done all their energy was gone, so he led them to the couch to lay with them and try to ease their whimpers. 

They passed out soon after and he was trapped in a pile of heat from their fevers and their slobbering snores. But he was at ease right here, their warmth making him just as tired. One hand rubbing Ziggy’s back while making sure she didn’t roll off his chest while the other hand slowly rubbed Motley's scalp. 

Before he knew it he slowly began falling asleep himself, and by the time he woke up he felt your fingers rubbing his forehead very very softly, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“Do you want me to grab them?” You whisper, which makes him shake his head. 

“Let em sleep, they don’t feel good.” He whispers back, turning bleary eyes to Ziggy who was currently crawling her way up his chest, she whimpers and whines until she is able to put her mouth around his nose. The gums touch his skin as she sucks on his nose, and he laughs slowly. “Apparently she is teething too.”

“I’ll go grab her ice pack.” You laugh, moving to the kitchen to grab it as Motley wakes up. 

“Daddy…. I hurt.” She whines and he nods, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the couch to give her room to get up, she does and quickly crawls until her head is in his lap. 

“You want some soup? Huh pretty girl? Maybe we can listen to Elvis before bed.” He offers, watching a small smile break out on her face that she tries to hide. Eddie teases her by leaning to see it and laughing when she covers her mouth. Then he pulls out the big guns, taking up the Elvis voice as he stares at her. “Let’s go eat some soup sweetie pie.”

“Hunka hunka burning love!” She giggles, jumping up to dash to the kitchen, when she passes you she nearly knocks you over but you manage to lean out of the way just in time. 

“What’s the rush?”

“Promised her Elvis after dinner.” Elvis was the king of rock, which albeit wasn’t the rock that Eddie liked, but Motley had grown overly obsessed with him lately and he was cool with that. Anything his girl wanted. 

- 

Blurb song inspo hereeeee . 

The opening of King Creole began, Motley stood on yours and Eddie's bed wearing his sunglasses and his leather jacket. She held a ukulele he had found from a garage sale, and thought it was the perfect size for her to play guitar. 

Ziggy stood on the ground, using his nightstand to help herself stand as she swung her butt up and down to the music. 

Eddie stood by the bed, with his guitar in both hands as Elvis Presley's song blasted through the speaker, wearing his newer leather jacket and a random pair of shades he found on the dresser that he was sure belonged to you.  Motley giggles loudly as Eddie sings the lyrics, playing his guitar to it as Motley pretends to play guitar as well. 

You were at the store and Eddie was supposed to be practicing for his gig coming up, and when you left he had Ziggy set up in her little play crib before Motley came in with the leather jacket on. One thing led to another and they all were playing along. 

“There’s a man in New Orleans who plays rock n roll!” Eddie sings, leaning in at the same time Motley does so their noses press together and then leaning back as she does and shimmying their shoulders. 

They sing and scream, dancing along as you pull back into the driveway. When you come in to get his help to carry in the groceries you are surprised by the loud music, even more surprised by the Elvis playing with the Metal twist to it. 

“Eds?” You call from the door, watching both him and your daughter shimmy their butts to you as they sing before you lean and stop the music which makes them both twist quickly to find you. 

“MAMA!” Motley cries, excitement crossing her face as she whips his glasses off, dropping the ukelele on the bed and launching into your arms. “Daddy Eddie was teaching me guitar!”

“I see that.” You laugh, keeping a hold of her as you lean to kiss Eddie, laughing when you see him in a pair of overly feminine glasses. “Nice look baby.”

“I thought they were very metal.” He laughs, kissing your lips softly, holding your jaw before Motley groans out a ‘ewwwww’.

“Did you like the music?” You laugh, looking down at her. “Even Daddy’s guitar.”

“He made the song better!” She laughs before you set her down. 

“Go get ready. We are having Vinny and his parents over.” At your words she groans, rolling her eyes which makes Eddie laugh out and reach a ringed hand to pull one of her pigtails lightly. 

“What’s with the attitude, pretty girl? Your rock n’ roll career is already getting to you?” He laughs, leaning to kiss her cheek before sliding off his jacket, moving to pick Ziggy up and make his way down the hall as his baby girl giggles happily. 

“I hateeeee Vinny.” Motley groans, following behind and snatching the chain that hangs from his pants to slow him down. “Daddy Eddie, pweaseeee.”

“Ohhhh, not the puppy eyes!” He whines, looking up to the ceiling. 

“No!” You call, covering her eyes. “Not this time.”

- 

Eddie sat on the floor of the living room with his back to the couch, water dripping from his hair onto his exposed chest as Motley sat behind him taking a brush through his hair over and over. He wore a towel around his hips, keeping him covered waist down but all his tattoos exposed as rubbed lotion on them, allowing Motley to have fun playing makeover with his hair. 

You sat near him, your feet in his lap as you read through a book you have promised yourself you would finish for months now.. Ziggy played with her toy blocks near as well, babbling along to the movie that played on the tv. 

Nights like this were perfect, no hustle and bustle and he got to spend time with his favorite girls. 

He rubbed some lotion on the bat tattoos, not really paying attention to what was happening around him only to be interrupted by a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Instantly he is sitting up grunting a bit when the brush Motley was holding puls his hair. 

“What? What’s wrong?” “Ziggy is-” But he already sees her, wobbling as she tries to stand without using anything to help her, blabbering quickly. Excitement courses through him as he sits up, Motley giggling behind him. 

It takes her a moment but she stands, turning to you and Eddie with a tiny smile. “Come here. Come of Stardust.”

Eddie coos gently and Ziggy wobbles, moving to take a step before landing on her butt. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay baby. Try again.” You coo, reaching your arms out. Ziggy giggles and picks herself up again, and once again she tries to take a step. Then, still giggling, she walks. 

Clumsy and heavy, she takes step after step until she falls into Eddie’s arms while everyone coos around her. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles and Eddie’s heart stops. Oh my god. 

“Did she just….” He gasps out as you tear up beside him. 

“Mix your name and daddy as her first word. Indeed she did.” You laugh, moving forward to kiss his cheek as he pulls Ziggy in to kiss her face all over.  

“THAT’S MY GIRL!”

- 

Eddie was beginning to get a little pissed off, his body thrumming with it as he watches his girls very closely. He keeps a firm hold on the neck of his guitar to fight the urge to punch someone in the face. 

That someone was Gareth. 

His band hadn’t had much exposure to kids, he knew this. The closest any of them had been to a kid was Jeff’s sister and she was only 2 years younger than her brother. So when Eddie had introduced his girls to them they hadn’t really known what to do. But he assumed they would get used to it by now. 

But his friends hadn’t. In Fact they did nothing but complain when Eddie showed up to band rehearsal with Ziggy on his arm and Motley's hand held within his own. She twisted his rings around, smiling from ear to ear when they walked up to the boys. 

Motley had been worried and had taken far too long to pick an outfit since she wanted to look as cool as Daddy Eddie and his friends. She ended up choosing the Hellfire shirt Dustin had made for her 6th birthday and his older jacket, she even let him braid her hair. And when they walked up she gave them a well rehearsed devil look, even sticking her tongue out just like Eddie does whenever she is throwing a fit. 

The only problem was Gareth and Paul both groaned outwardly, Jeff was the only one that seemed to try and smile, shaking his hand in an awkward wave. Eddie, now irritated and tense simply explains “Y/n had to go and help Nancy with something, I offered to take the angels.”

“Of course you did.” Paul scoffs, turning to grab a beer from the fridge with Gareth and Jeff in tow. Eddie bends down so he was level with Motley, rubbing her arm. 

“Don’t take those geeks to heart, yeah? They’re just nervous. You scare them.” He smiles which makes her smile. 

“It’s okay Daddy Eddie. Papa never liked when I bothered him either. We’ll stay out of the way.” She shrugs, kissing his cheek and taking her chalk set to the sidewalk before he places Ziggy on the couch. 

The papa comment unnerved him and he was already defensive. He didn’t like that they were in a situation that they could remotely compare to their deadbeat dad. It made him sad. 

They start practicing, but soon enough Motley is running up and dancing around in the garage as they play. “PLAY TIFFANY!” 

“Whose that?” Jeff asks, covered in sweat. 

“Please tell me it’s not that teenager that sings ‘I think we’re-’” Just as Gareth starts groaning, Motley begins singing and dancing to it. 

‘Ithinkwe’realonenow. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around!”

“Stop stop stop!” Paul snaps. “This is band practice. You can’t just-”

“I think we should play it.” Jeff smiles. “You have the tape Eddie?”

Of course he had the tape, it was Motley's favorite song at the moment. So, with a deep sigh since he already knew he would get shit for it he pulls the tape from his pocket, holding it in the air between two fingers. 

Gareth sighs, snatching it from him and taking it to the stereo system. 

An hour later and many snide comments, Eddie was about to lose it.  Motley had, at some point, gotten a little upset and chose to sit on the couch with Ziggy who was beginning to get whiny and sad. She hadn’t napped all day and Eddie knew it was time to call it a day before he punched one of his friends. 

“I think I’m gonna get the little ones home.” He mumbles, grabbing the tape from the speaker and putting it in the case as he looks over to where his girls were. Ziggy had her pre-cry face on and Motley was half asleep in the cushions. Eddie shuddered at the thought of how many times Gareth had sex on that thing. 

“Next time don’t bring the rugrats and we can practice actual music.” Gareth scoffs and that tight string in Eddie finally snapped. He pushes closer to his friend, getting in his face as one hand snatches itself in his shirt tightly and in a threatening way, his other hand holding the tape up to his friend's face. 

“THIS IS MUSIC!” He screams, eyes wild before he shoves his friend back and takes a deep breath, turning to where his daughters sit. “Come on, pretty babies. Let’s go make dinner.”

He scoops Ziggy up, then Motley, casting one more glare to his friends before walking off. 

- 

“I cannot believe they would be such assholes. To MY nieces.” Steve scoffs, hands on his hips as he stands next to Eddie. Tonight was the school recital, so both of them were dressed up to attend. 

Steve had dressed himself in a button up with a nice sweater, making sure to match Nancy who was carrying their 3rd kid, the blue of the dress making her light up. Meanwhile Eddie chose a button up with his leather jacket, or well Motley had demanded he wear the leather jacket because it was a part of the look. 

 You, as per usual, looked truly stunning. He made sure to keep a hand on your hip or the small of your back to make sure everyone knew you were with him, that’s right. Eddie the freak munson had the hottest woman around and two of the prettiest and most talented daughters in the world. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Eddie sighs. “Talking to my girls like that?”

“They are just jackasses who can’t even play guitar.” Steve scoffs once more, looking past Eddie to check the door. “Ah, there they are. DUSTIN! ERICA!”

Dustin spots them, smiling as he holds Erica’s hand and shuffles closer to them. “Is Mike coming?”

“No. He has a date to make El jealous.” Nancy laughs. 

“Where is El tonight?”

“Going out with Max.” Nancy explains, and Eddie feels you tense under his hand. He casts you a quick look to make sure you’re okay, watching Ziggy lay her head on your chest as she plays with your necklace. 

“You good?” 

“Yup.” Your answer is clipped, and Ziggy lifts her head up to copy you with a ‘yupyup.’

“Where’s Lucas?” Steve asks Erica, leaning to kiss her forehead. 

“He had an away game. Asked us to film it.”

“Then asked me to stop dating his sister.” Dustin laughs which makes Steve and Eddie break out in their own fit of laughter. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” Ziggy giggles, reaching for him so he grabs her quickly, kissing her lips to make her happy. 

“I’m sorry? Did she just mix daddy and Eddie?” Steve gasps and Eddie shrugs. 

“I’m telling ya, my girls are geniuses.” He smiles, leading you into the auditorium so watch Motley's recital. 

He sits with Ziggy on his lap, holding your hand tightly in his own as Steve pulls out a camera and squats in the aisle to film everything. 

Motley and Vinny come up to do their dance, the audience laughing loudly when Motley steps on Vinnys foot after he tries to trip her. They both blush, Vinny takes a bow and Motley holds up a rock sign, which makes Eddie cheer loudly and stand up to yell for her. 

- 

Song Inspo for this blurb hereeeeee 

“Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take her.” Eddie sings, holding Ziggy on his shoulders easily as he dances with you. The Hawaiian shirt you picked out for him is light on his skin as the sun beats down on you both, the sweat from the day sticking to him. 

This was the fourth of July celebration, everyone in the group met at the beach to enjoy the day…… which meant Steve had shown up at 4 am to save the spot. Eddie had already applied sunscreen onto Motley and Ziggy twice, you had done it three times and you both were still scared that the girls would burn. 

You had gotten Ziggy the cutest toddler beach outfit, that included a purple swimsuit; hat; and sunglasses. And his baby girl looked absolutely rocking. 

Then Motley got her very own swimsuit, inspired by her favorite artist of the time Tiffany, and Eddie (who had been practicing braiding hair for weeks, your scalp was sore.) had put her hair into two pleats that she had proudly shown to her Aunt Robin who had spent the next 30 minutes complimenting her favorite niece. 

“Daddy Eddie! Come swim!” She yells out, running up to him. “Puh-lease!”

Now here was the problem, Eddie hated showing his abdomen in front of his friends. It was easy for Steve, who liked to say the scarring was Tom Cruise's amount of cool. Eddie however had never shown them how disgusting his scars were. 

“Daddy daddy daddy.” She calls, jumping up and down as Vinny dashes past to get to Dustin. “We’re gonna play chicken and I need my daddy.”

“Maybe Uncle Lucas can help you.” He mumbles, squatting down with Ziggy still on his shoulders, the toddler pulling at his hair sharply as she blubbers. 

“I don’t want Uncle Lucas. I want my daddy! Only you can help me!” She cries, grabbing his arms. His heart melts, and he tries to smile. 

“Okay pretty girl. Let me get Ziggy settled.” He sighs and she lights up, dashing to go tell Vinny as Eddie moves to hand you Ziggy. 

“I’m gonna help El set out the food. Be careful.” You mumble, leaning to kiss his lips before moving to the table as Ziggy waves over your shoulder. Eddie takes his shirt off, rubbing his abdomen in worry as he makes his way to the water where Motley now stood. 

“See?! My daddy has cool ass scars because he’s awesome and he’s gonna kick your slimy little ass.” Motley brags to Dustin, who stares at her with wide eyes that make Eddie laugh. 

“Language, pretty girl.”

“Sorry.” She blushes, turning back to Dustin. “My daddy has sick scars and he’s gonna beat your toothless ass.”

“Woah.”

And suddenly Eddie felt a little better about his scars, smiling from ear to ear as he lifted Motley up, dashing into the water to help her win a game of chicken.

- 

Thanksgiving was spent at yours and Eddies house, after hours in the kitchen and a quick fit from Motley you had fully prepped the table. 

Now everyone sat around it, trying not to laugh as Dustin tries to convince you to eat the mac n cheese he made, practically shoving the spoon in your mouth. 

“No! I eat that and I die!” You laugh, slapping the spoon away. 

“Who would take care of the kids?” Jonathan gasps in fake astonishment. “Me right?”

“You’d only get the kids if Lucas died.” You shrug which makes Lucas smile in triumph.

“I knew it-”

“And you only get my girls if Erica dies.” Eddie interrupts. “And that’s if Dustin is dead.”

A laugh tears from your throat as Dustin claps, but you’re quick to stop him. “And that’s if Steve is dead.”

“And if Steve has them then Nancy is dead.” Eddie laughs. 

“Who has to die for me to get them?!” Mike asks, face red and puffy. El laughs and Max rolls her eyes. 

“Let me guess, if Nancy has them then I am dead?” Max scoffs, and you go a bit tense. 

“Well in this entire hypothesis that means I am dead, so that’s a bit mean.” Eddie giggles. “Because if my girl is dead then they go to me.”

“No they wouldn’t.” Max laughs, which makes the table go a little quiet. “They’d go to their dad.”

“What?” Eddie asks as Motley giggles out a “PAPA!”

He turns to you, eyes wide. “That true?”

“Technically yes.” You mumble out, looking extremely guilty. “But only because-”

Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore, he slams his silverware down and storms down the hall, slamming the door loudly. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry-” Max starts, only to have you glare at her and move to grab Ziggy. 

- 

It had been a week since Eddie talked to you, he slept on the couch and only talked to the girls. The only communication he had with you was through the girls, and that was it. 

He made them pancakes, and took them to school and daycare. 

Right now he sat in Ziggys nursery as he tried to get her ready for the day, her only in a diaper as he sat in front of her. 

“Aw, come on. Gimme a smile, little baby.” He coos, wiggling his shoulders. “It’s such a cute dress and you know you want to wear it. Huh?”

“No, Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles. “Wuv yu.”

“Aww. I wuv yu too.” He laughs. “In fact I love you THIS MUCH!”

He opens his arms out wide which makes her giggle. “How much do you love me?”

“Dis Muck.” She giggles, opening her own arms wide. 

“Our arms are open, we gotta hug.” He laughs, pulling her in quickly which makes her scream and giggle, pushing him away as he kisses her stomach over and over. 

“PAPA IS HERE!” Motley screams from the living room which makes Eddie whip his head around to the door that had been closed. 

What? “MOMMY! MOMMY MOMMY! IT’S PAPA!” 

Eddie stands up quickly, Ziggy in his arms as he swings the door open, meeting your shocked face as you come up the stairs. 

“Did she say-?” He starts.

“I’m hoping not.” But as you are saying it there is a knock on the front door. So Eddie makes his way to the living room with Ziggy in his arms as you run to catch Motley before she answers the door. 

Choosing to do it yourself, Eddie watches with his heart in his stomach as the door swings open and he is met with-

No.Fucking. Way.

Part ll HERE

(Would y'all want a part 2? If you send in requests for blurbs or scenarios of Eddie and the girls I will 100% write them. Send em in.)

Taglist:: (let me know if you want to be removed)

@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel

[yuff7e]

Hii! I have two ideas I don’t mind if only one is written: Could you write head-canons or like anything about Inosuke with a s/o whose love language is physical touch? Or could you write head-canons about Inosuke with an artist gf who maybee has a whole book with drawings of him 🤭🤭? Whatever is easiest tysm!!

⋆˙ inosuke with an artist s/o who loves physical touch !! ⟡♡ headcanons / fluff

gender neutral

omg hi anon !! and yes ofc i can :)) im making this whole thing gender neutral but i can do a separate fic of inosuke with an artist gf and he find out she’s been drawing him since the very start and how he reacts if you’d like ?? anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- inosuke and you have a pretty stable relationship tbh

- considering the fact he’s a feral boar man

- since you two have been together, you haven’t noticed inosuke having any hobbies

- like at all besides screaming and challenging people (and sleeping…) (…aaannndddd eating)

- but hey! that’s fine! you have yours and inosuke has… his

- now anywho, you were waking up bright and early for another day of training

- when suddenly you didn’t feel the crushing weight of inosuke on you…

- (he always sleeps on you and waits until you wake up! but today he wasn’t… oh god.)

- “inosuke? inosuke!”

- he had been rummaging around in your things while you were asleep !!!

- you rush over to him and jump on top of him to hide what he might’ve saw

- he lets you take him down and looks at you

- he’s doing that weird gawking giddy thing he does whenever he’s happy

- you just stare back at him

- “what?”

- “WHAT IS THIS BOOK?!”

- he holds up a sketchbook, filled to the brim with drawings of him

- you FREAK OUT

- “inosuke!! this is private stuff!!”

- “so?”

- mans does NOT know privacy

- yalls relationship is a one way street for that matter and he sticks to it.

- so he is veerrryyy adamant about seeing the rest of what’s in that book

- finally, you give in and let him look at it

- he’s amazed by the cool illustrations and doodles you’ve made for him

- “these are me?!”

- “yeah…”

- *cue him flipping through them aggressively*

- “i want this one!”

- “inosuke you can’t just take them! well— i mean maybe you can but i don’t want you to!! i spent a long time drawing these—..”

- “i don’t care!”

- “okay. insouke— seriously..!!”

- once he starts ripping some of the pages you snatch the book

- he tries to fight you but realizes you’re being serious so he stops but is still agitated

- he wants them!!

- now, onto physical touch

- honestly i wouldn’t see him having a problem with it, it’d probably just stroke his ego more knowing he’s got a pretty partner like you by his side caressing his arm while he boasts about how he’s the “king of the mountains”

- a real “i’m on top of the world” moment fr

- but he did kind of freak out when you touched him for the first time

- you were walking through the butterfly mansion, on the way to see inosuke

- you two had planned a little first date type-thing

- (with the help from tanjiro and zenitsu..)

- but you were happy and couldn’t wait to go and see him!!

- once you got there he wasn’t dressed up, just in his casual attire

- no clothes..

- anyway, you walk up to him and touch his shoulder

- he turns around so fast screaming “WHO THE HELL JUST TOUCHED ME?!”

- realized it was you and just stared

- the skin to skin contact got him feeling some typa way

- and ever since then you’ve just been doing the same thing you always do

- “hey inosuke!” you giggle as you hug him and he just freezes

- if he’s in the middle of a screaming fit and you go over and wrap your arms around him he’ll stop IMMEDIATELY

- “er—!! hey!”

—

·˚ ༘ you’re outside training when you hear screaming coming from the inside of the butterfly mansion, and you weren’t too surprised that when you walked in your boyfriend was being quite the sore loser.

kanao had just beat him in one of the training games, and he wasn’t too happy about it. “she was cheating! she’s cheating! let’s do a rematch!! this time i’ll beat you!” we’re all the words you heard from him as he stomped his feet aggressively.

you sigh and look at kanao who’s just staring blankly at inosuke, “i guess we could have a rematch..” she squeaks, inosuke jumping right for her - and of course he loses, again.

he’s defeated, running back over to the side lines and throwing his whole body into the wall - banging his boar mask against it and throwing a few punches. you trot over to him, your arms extending until you fully fall into his side.

he stops what he’s doing and immediately goes to push you off, not realizing it’s you. until he notices your voice, “inosuke! stop screaming! you’ll have another rematch soon.”

he immediately grabs your arms to throw you off (which he could’ve easily done since you didn’t have your guard up) but he just complained while you were practically on top of him. saying things like - “hey! get your hands off of me! i have another match to win!” or “what’s the deal?! can’t you see i’m busy?!”

of course since he hasn’t pushed you off yet you know this is calming him down, and eventually it does. his anger subsides but only for a little bit, the match eventually redos and kanao gets a few good hits in until he wins.

instantly, he’s rushing over to you and tackling you to the ground!! “i did it! ya see that? i knew i could win!” he’s yowling and jumping around and you just smile at him fondly. “congrats inosuke! but i have to go back outside and finish my training—..”

before you could finish inosuke picks you up and twirls you around before setting you back down, patting your head. “alright! don’t be long. i want you to see me beat the rest of these people!” a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you giggle, a little out of breath.

“heh.. alright! i’ll be back.” you kiss his shoulder quickly before jogging away - causing him to freeze and someone catching him off guard and winning another match…

you didn’t hear the end of it later that night!! but it was all okay when you woke up for another day and inosuke was laying on you per usual, not rummaging through your things this time.

—

YAYA I FINISHED !! it’s not as serious as i honestly hoped for but im actually super proud of this i think this is really cute !! hope u enjoy <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[lyvhie]

do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍

desert island | zcl

boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚

cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.

honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.

the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.

arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.

you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.

it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.

during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.

you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.

"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.

"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.

following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.

"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.

"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.

"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”

for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”

"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”

chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.

he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.

"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”

even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.

you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.

“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”

your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.

“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.

you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.

chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.

“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.

“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.

a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.

your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.

this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.

as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.

"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.

chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.

with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.

he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.

you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.

“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.

“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.

he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.

he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”

before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.

chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.

"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.

"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."

[wkemeup]

The Bet

summary: The agents at SHIELD have not taken well to Bucky’s pardon. When he’s injured on a mission under suspicious circumstances, you take matters into your own hands.  

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon level violence, bucky’s internalized self-punishing issues, shield agents being real pieces of shit, badass reader who would defend bucky to the death

a/n: I know I’ve been really inactive lately (life’s actually been going well so I’ve been busier but that leaves me less time to write unfortunately), but I’m still lurking here! This is a fic I wrote several months ago but finally got around to editing it. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky wasn’t sure how you managed it – the punch to his gut every time you walked in the room. You were dressed in your tactical suit; black fabric draped over every inch of your body, protective layers of Kevlar and technology beyond Bucky’s years, a weapon strapped to your thigh and knives hidden in your belt and at your ankle. Your hair was tugged out of place, sweat beaded on your temple from the sparring match in the gym moments before the two of you were called to service. In your right hand, you carried your combat boots, the laces hanging low enough to touch the ground.  

And still, Bucky held his breath as you approached. Stomach in knots, chest tightening until his heart threatened to stop entirely.

“My offer is fifty this time,” you announced, winking in his direction before you turned to head for the landing bay. “Take it or leave it, Barnes.”

It was a game you’d been playing since your first mission together. A running bet to determine the better combat fighter. You’d insisted on measuring it not by the number of Hydra agents taken down or the bullets left in the magazine at the end of the mission, but by who walked away with the least damage on their body. A competition in the lack of scars.  

He suspected it was your effort to distract him, to center his mind on something other than the crushing weight on his chest as he stepped into yet another Hydra stronghold. With his pardon only coming through the official channels three months prior and the nightly news still debating whether he should be locked in a psychiatric hospital or executed for his crimes, Bucky didn’t mind a little distraction.  

He wasn’t sure what to make of you at first – this woman who cared so little for the eggshells scattered around his wake. Thin, broken pieces shattered under your steps, sharp edges digging into the soles of your feet and you did not flinch. You never hesitated in your teasing, never withdrew a cautious touch from the hardened steel of his left arm, never treated him as though he were fragile or unhinged. Instead, you placed bets on the outcomes of your shared missions as if his lethality was something to respect, to admire.  

Part of him wondered whether it was your attempt to keep him unharmed. The winner would have the least number of cuts and bruises – the least physical pain endured. Bucky had no problem using his body as the weapon it was designed to be, even if it meant being reckless in his own skin. It was what he’d been trained to do for decades; constantly reminded that his body was not his own to command, not his own to protect and shield. The mission came first. The mission always came first. Above his safety. Above his comfort. Above his sanity. Hydra cared little for how damaged he walked away from a fight as long as he did as he was ordered. But not you.  

No, you never could seem to hide the subtle twitch of relief as he won bet after bet. How your shoulders seemed to lose the tension aching in your muscles as you handed over the winnings he did not want. Because it meant you’d lost – that you’d been injured more than he had – and Bucky wanted no part in celebrating such a win.  

“I don’t want your money, Y/n,” Bucky said as he did before each mission. He fell in line beside you as rookies parted down the hallway with each approaching step. Most kept their head down, eyes averted. But not all. Some openly stared at him as if they might bore holes into his tactical suit. 

“Who says I’m paying you shit?” you scoffed, a smirk edging at the corner of your mouth. “Fifty, Barnes. You on or what?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, fine. I’m in.”

You walked with a slight bounce in your step after he agreed and Bucky could not stop the smile as it tugged on his cheeks.  

By the time you reached the quinjet, the team of agents was huddled in the loading dock awaiting orders. Steve stood with a hand leaning against the pilot’s chair, the other hooked on the font of his belt. The rest of the team – a group of highly trained SHIELD agents dressed in full combat gear tensed as Bucky followed you onto the jet.  

“Thanks for joining us,” Steve welcomed sarcastically though there was humor in his grin. You rolled your eyes and held up your unlaced boots as if that would be answer enough that you were caught off guard for the unplanned mission.  

“Not all of us wait eagerly outside Fury’s door for scraps of adrenaline,” you teased and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Bucky.  

Steve bit his tongue to hold back a laugh. He turned to one of the agents lingering by the cockpit. “Get us in the air.”  

“Yes, sir,” the agent responded and quickly jumped into the pilot’s seat.  

Steve made his way to the table at the center of the jet where the building’s schematics were illuminated in three dimensional holographic lasers. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he followed, studying the lights as they detailed every inch of the building he would infiltrate in a matter of a few hours. He kept his right hand down by his side in an effort to not reach out and touch the floating blueprints.

“Y/n will lead Team B through the back entrance and up to the second floor,” Steve explained as he widened the schematics with a single swipe of his hand. The floor print zoomed into the level he was describing.

“Meanwhile, I’ll lead Team A through the main floor,” he continued and adjusted the visual to display the path he intended to take. “We’ll come in hot through the primary entrance. Draw as much attention as we can. That’ll give Bucky the time he needs to track down the Berlin files.”

Bucky swallowed as many of the agents turned to look at him. Steve had briefed him ahead of time on the mission so he knew he would be taking this one on his own. He knew the building better than anyone else, better than anyone who had studied the blueprints. He knew Hydra better than anyone else. Whether he was stored in this particular site was irrelevant. He understood how Hydra operated, enough to determine where they’d keep the sort of information that could bring the organization to its knees. It made the most sense.  

Clinical. Rational.  

“He’s going alone?” you questioned, your voice quieter than Bucky was expecting. Your focus was solely on Steve, brows knotted at the center. There was a soft waver of concern in your tone he was sure did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team. You’d seen Bucky’s right-hand curl to an aching fist enough times at the mention of his former captors. You knew the wounds were still fresh, the ink on his pardon barely dried.  

Steve nodded reluctantly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise, but don’t mistake me. This is a stealth op. Giving Bucky a team is only going to slow him down.”

“You could at least give him back up,” you argued, the gentle hesitancy dropped from your tone. Your hands planted firmly on your hips. Tension coated thick into the room.  

Bucky was about to step in, to put a careful hand on your shoulder and tell you he could handle himself just fine, that there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he’d crack a joke. Maybe then he could brush off your concerns and the knots in his stomach as simple worry for a reliable partner. But one of the senior agents – Hanning – cleared his throat first.  

“She’s right, Cap,” Hanning said. “It’s not a good idea to send him in alone.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, looking to Steve with a challenging smirk, but Bucky knew Hanning’s words for what they were. His stomach bottomed as he started to reach for you, to pull you back from the room before you could hear the rest of what Hanning was surely about to say. Bucky could read it on each of the agents’ faces – how they all looked down their noses at him, how thier gazes flickered to the reflection of his left arm in disgust, how they tensed the moment he stepped on board the jet. Humiliation burned hot in his cheeks before Hanning even uttered another word.  

“See!” you hit Steve lightly on the arm. You grinned back in Bucky’s direction and did not see the dread weighing in his eyes. “Just give him two guys. Just enough to make sure he’s—”

“—watched. We all know the Winter Soldier can’t be trusted alone in a Hydra facility.”  

You stilled at Hanning’s words. Bucky watched the edge of your jaw flicker as you clenched the muscle, your hands gripping tight to the edge of the table. Bucky wondered if it might splinter under your hold.  

“Excuse me?” Venom dripped from your tongue on every syllable.  

“You said it yourself,” Hanning replied with a short shrug of his shoulders, as if you had simply misheard him. “The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be left on his own. No telling what he’d do unsupervised. Especially around his old buddies.”

You flinched – actually flinched.  

To Bucky, this wasn’t anything new. The serum has cursed him with heightened senses strong enough to overhear the quiet whispering when he entered the gym, the nervous murmuring of rookie agents who had grown up on ghost stories of his most prolific crimes. He noticed every frantic skip of a frightened heartbeat and every cold, seething glare of an agent whose loathing outweighed that of his fear. There was little room for anything else amongst the agents within SHEILD.  

You – and only a few others among the Avengers – were the exception.  

His pardon was conditional. He couldn’t afford the kind of trouble these agents were egging him into. One step out of line and he’d find himself with a lifetime sentence on the raft. Maybe that was what he deserved, but he couldn’t risk retaliating against the agents, couldn’t so much as chance a bitter word thrown back in their faces. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that it was only in fear of not seeing you again that held his tongue.  

Bucky had grown numb to the taunts and the stares long before he stepped foot in the tower. He knew how to keep his head down, how to swallow back his pride at the expense of his dignity. He learned how to endure the humiliation, the shame. Hydra had taught him well.  

You, however, did not tolerate it.  

“He can’t be trusted, Cap,” Hanning went on, turning to meet Steve’s warning stare. “We’ve lost too many guys to his friends at Hydra. I don’t care what papers the President signed. You can’t let the Winter Soldier—”

“Stop calling him that,” you hissed, pounding a fist against the table. The holographic blueprints flared in response. “I said Bucky should have support in the field. Not a fucking parole officer!”

Hanning rolled his eyes; a dangerous choice to make to mock a superior agent in front of her own team. Steam billowed from your ears as several of the agents behind him began to laugh. Hanning wiped his thumb over his bottom lip, his gaze slipping down the length of your body as if to size you up, but he lingered too long. A power move, Bucky deciphered. A means to belittle you. Bucky gritted his teeth.  

“He’s a war criminal,” Hanning challenged, ignoring Bucky’s calculated step in your direction.  

“He was a prisoner of war!” you shot back, voice raising on every word. “Who was pardoned, by the way!”

“You think that changes anything? A piece of paper doesn’t erase the shit he’s done. Doesn’t bring back any of the SHIELD agents he murdered. Doesn’t make him any less of fuckin’ monster and we shouldn’t have to put up with his—”

“Enough!” Steve ordered, slamming a hand down on the table. The blueprints flickered out until the table powered down. “Hanning, get your men in order. I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of you until we’re back in New York. Y/n, walk it off. We land in an hour.”

Betrayal seethed in your eyes as your gaze whipped to Steve. You expected him to defend Bucky as fiercely as you did, but Bucky knew better, as did Steve. Steve’s involvement would only worsen the division between Bucky and the rest of the team. They’d turn themselves into martyrs; jump on their high horse and twist Steve’s defense to align with what they already believed – that the Winter Soldier was dangerous, untrustworthy, and corrupted everything he touched. Including the Avengers and SHIELD itself.  

And maybe they were right, but it wasn’t a fight you had to be a part of. He worked very hard to ensure you knew little of it at all.  

You clamped your jaw shut to keep yourself from handing Captain America his ass next and quickly turned on your heels. Your hand slid around Bucky’s wrist and without much resistance, you dragged him along with you to the other side of the jet. There, you sank against the bench along the frame of the cargo hold and began sliding your hands along your thighs. As he watched you, Bucky wondered if you might tear the fabric of your suit with how intensely you were digging your palms into the muscle.  

“Hanning’s an asshole,” you grumbled. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know shit.”

You spoke as if you believed it was an isolated incident – a single, rare occurrence he should brush off his shoulders – and perhaps you did. Perhaps you truly believed that no agent would be as brazen as to mock the former Winter Soldier to his face, but you would be wrong. Their confidence grew each time he kept his head down, each time he swallowed back the rage and humiliation at their taunts.  

Bucky sighed, sinking down on the bench beside you. Your hands were still raking against your thighs, your pointed glare still finding its way to the agents huddled on the opposite end of the jet. He figured if he didn’t say something soon, you might lose the battle for your better judgements and take a swing at Hanning before the jet so much as crossed Hydra airspace.  

“Make it a hundred.”

You furrowed your brow, your gaze shifting to him. Already, your features began to soften. Your hands stilled against your knees. “What?”

“The bet,” Bucky clarified, forcing a smile. It didn’t touch his eyes and it ached, but it was all he could muster. “Make it a hundred this time.”

A smirk slowly lifted the corners of your mouth and Bucky felt a weight slip off his chest.  

“You’re on.”

***

“Do you want know what I’m going to do with your money when I win?”

Bucky dug his teeth into his bottom lip to repress a determined smile as your labored voice crackled through his coms. He could hear the static of the radio waves and the frequent draw of your breath as you led your team in combat on the second level. You’d learned early on to switch your coms to an off-channel frequency while you were separated. Steve was the only one who was aware of the isolated channel, but he knew better than to listen in unannounced.  

“Huh, Barnes?” you challenged. He could practically see your smile edging up your cheeks. “Should I tell you how I’m going to spend your hard-earned cash?”

“You do remember you’re the one engaged in combat right now and I’m on an abandoned floor alone, right? Do you hear those odds?” Bucky smirked to himself, imagining the hard roll of your eyes as you scoffed into the coms.  

“You’re not as stealthy as you think, Barnes. Maybe you’ll stub your toe on a desk. Don’t underestimate my skill against these... amateurs,” you spat the last word as if to make a point to the man you were currently barreling a fist into. “Now let me tell you how I’m going to waste your money.”

“Go on,” Bucky chuckled. He stalked through the empty hallway, passing by old offices and labs as he scanned in search of the vault in question. Hydra was rather predictable that way.  

“Well,” you exhaled and clearly threw a punch at your opponent by the grunt that followed, “Sam’s birthday is coming up."

Bucky froze in his tracks; any trace of a grin wiped from his features. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Your laugh echoed in his ears and damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard – took him right out of the Hydra facility he wandered through, out of the memories attached to the lifeless, concrete rooms, and brought levity back to his chest. How you managed to do that while fighting your way through a hoard of Hydra agents was beyond him.  

He turned into a promising office at the end of the hallway. Lavish enough to be one of the higher officer’s, with priceless stolen art on the walls and a desk chair that resembled a small throne. He rolled his eyes.  

“Six ahead! Erikson, McKinley! Go now!” You shot an order at one of your men before returning focus back to your side conversation with Bucky. He smiled at the sharpness of your tone – the authority, the respect you commanded. Just as easily, your tone shifted to the gentle teasing reserved only for him. “Maybe I’ll replace the side camera on Redwing you shattered in Guatamala last month.”

Bucky groaned and drew out your name in a long, exasperated tone as he began fumbling through a pile of stray papers on the messy desk.  You started to laugh again and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the ends of his mouth. It was damn near infectious.  

“Fine, fine.” Your voice was breathless; either from the fight or the laughter, Bucky wasn’t sure. “I might venture a trip out to Coney Island. I hear they have life changing soft serve.”

Bucky chuckled just as he tore open a locked drawer, shifting through the contents. “You’d have a hell of a lot of cash left over.”

“Well let’s see,” you began, a short pause followed as you knocked out another combatant. Bucky could hear the thud of the body at your feet. “Two tickets on the train, two world-renown ice cream cones. It adds up, Barnes.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. A sudden unwelcomed pit formed in his stomach as he straightened his back, his hands slipping from their task at the desk. He swallowed, though his throat was dry.  

“Two? Who would you—”

“Are you really telling me you don’t want to show me around your old stomping grounds?” you teased, as if he should have assumed you’d only ever been talking about him. “I can be generous with your money, Buck. I’ll even treat you to a funnel cake if you want.”

Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, his teeth gnawing at his lips to suppress the grin and the flush in his cheeks. He didn’t dare look up at the Hydra symbol painted on the wall ahead of him, but he wondered then if the memory of it might have any effect at all in the wake of your laughter through the coms.

“That so?” he managed to reply, trying to find a piece of himself from the forties that could talk to a woman without stumbling over his words. His heart was pounding. Thundering. His hands gripped the edge of the desk in effort to stop the shaking of adrenaline, but it was such a lovely feeling.  

“I might even win you a stuffed animal.”  

Bucky exhaled as if it might relieve the pleasant aching in his cheeks. “Those games are rigged, you know.”

“I have my tricks.”

A throat cleared at the doorway.  

Bucky jolted, his hand on the trigger and safety unlatched before he got a good look at the face of the man watching him from the hallway. His smile fell as he froze – the sound of your voice calling to him through the coms went unanswered. You must have heard the sudden hitch in his breath, noticed just by the short gasp of air that something was wrong.  

Hanning didn’t so much as flinch as he stared down the barrel of Bucky’s gun. His arms were folded over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Bucky didn’t dare wonder how long he’d been there watching. He was losing his edge. Distracted in the one place he was supposed to be clinical above all else.  

Slowly, Bucky lowered the gun and latched the safety. Hanning cracked his neck to the side as six of his men emerged from the hall behind him. Bucky gritted his teeth and raised a hand to his coms.  

“I’m going dark.”

No time at all passed before you argued, “don’t you dare! Not while you’re out there alone.”

Bucky kept clear watch of Hanning and the six agents slowly making their way into the room, knuckles cracking against their hips, stretching their arms. A quiet anger simmered under the surface – boiling in his veins though no steam would release him from the rage it carried.  

“I found the vault,” he said, the lie slipping too easily off his tongue. “It’s heavily armored. It’ll cause interference. I’ll meet you on the jet.”

He didn’t like the short clinical statements he was giving you, as if you were little more than a handler requesting report. It wasn’t like him and you knew it.  

“No. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.” Desperation clouded into your voice.  

“I said I’ll meet you on the jet,” he replied sharply; harsher than he ever intended to be with you, but Hanning’s patience was wearing thin and Bucky would not stomach you being able to hear what was about to happen.  

“Okay.” You were quieter now, your breaths more labored. Bucky’s stomach wrung in knots. “Just be careful.”

He turned off the coms before regret could sink in.  

“No more Avenger in your ear now, huh?” Hanning jeered, a cockeyed smirk hanging on the left edge of his mouth. He shook his head, a darkness sinking into his features when Bucky refused to answer. “Christ. She’s just as pathetic as the groupie sluts camping outside the tower.”

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky growled. He knew full well of the crowd who chanted his name, holding picket signs in support of an innocence he wasn’t sure belonged to him. Bucky wasn’t convinced they knew much of anything about his crimes. He often wondered if they would still draw hearts around his name if they knew the volume of blood on his hands.  

Hanning scoffed. “She used to be a damn good agent before you started fucking with her head, you know that? Maybe if I take her to bed next, she’ll start defending my honor, too.”

The desk cracked under Bucky’s grip; splintered under his palms. It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you in that way. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t so much as whispered a breath to the torch he carried for you. But reputation and rumor weighed stronger than truth. And Hanning didn’t seem to mind which served him best.

“We both know why you’re here, Hanning,” Bucky said, his voice taunt in the effort. “Stop beating around the bush.”

A vicious smirk warped Hanning’s features as he signaled to his men. Bucky steeled himself – an agonizing, familiar feeling – and he waited for the first blow to land.  

***

Bucky took his time returning to the jet. He didn’t bother turning his coms back on after he begrudgingly tore open the vault door at the back of the office and obtained the files SHIELD was after. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to stomach the onset of questions you’d throw his way, the inevitable concern in your voice, or the lies that would slip too easily from his tongue.  

You and Steve would have already returned to the quinjet by now and he was certain you were wearing a tread into the floor of the debrief room. If he closed his eyes, he might have been able to picture your arms folded tightly across your chest, the scowl creating lines down your forehead, and the hushed grumble as you muttered under your breath, eyes constantly darting back to the door in search of him.

Bucky took no pleasure in his lies. He did not enjoy the slight hitch of concern in your voice as you begged him to stay on coms. No— it tore into his chest in such a way he was left wondering if there would be anything left at all if he continued this way.  

But you couldn’t know.  

You couldn’t know the truth of how far men like Hanning would go to appease their fragile egos. How agents of an organization you dedicated your life to abused their power and a loophole in the system to ensure they could pull one over on the Winter Soldier in favor of bragging rights and a misguided sense of justice. You couldn’t know it wasn’t Hydra that left him bruised and battered after these missions, but instead the agents under your watch.  

Bucky paused as he came up on the ramp to the back of the jet. In the vague reflection of the charcoal surface was a trail of welts and bruising covering most of his face. Red had seeped into the white of his left eye. The center of his bottom lip was split open; blood dripped down his chin and left stray droplets against the chest of his jacket. He quickly brushed his wrist against his mouth, smearing the blood onto his hand instead and made his way inside.  

Hanning was standing at the edge of the debrief room as his team passed behind him. He raised his hand to you in what appeared to be a mocking salute. You did not react; your arms folded over your chest just as Bucky had imagined and an irritable glare compressed most of your features. But your eyes shifted to the bloody and broken skin on Hanning’s knuckles as his lowered his hand back to his side. You turned and watched him as he joined the rest of the agents.  

Bucky swallowed and pressed the button at the mouth of the jet to retract the ramp. While you were distracted by Hanning, Bucky shook his hair into his face, keeping his head down, and made his way to the debrief room as he was required to do. He would not be able to hide the damage to his face for long, but if he could at least conceal your reaction from Hanning and the rest of the team, it might be enough to preserve what remained of his dignity.  

You turned and walked back inside the debrief room and Bucky exhaled a heavy breath. As he followed shortly in behind you, he wasn’t surprised to find you had quickly resumed pacing along the back wall of the room. The carpet was slightly discolored under your path.  

Only when Bucky closed the door behind him did you notice his presence.  

You froze, eyes darting across the room. The relief that sank your shoulders was instant, but brief, because the moment you took in more than just his physical body safe inside the jet, a wash of anger and panic absorbed any traces of solace.  

You rushed across the room to him, hands hovering over his shoulders, his forearms, his torso – as if you were seeking to touch him but would not dare to lay a hand upon his body in fear of shattering him whole. Your eyes frantically scanned the open scarring and bruising on his face, searching for more wounds you could not see.  

“What the hell happened to you?” You made no effort to obscure the panic trembling in your voice.  

“Hydra,” he replied shortly, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. He looked across the room to Steve, who was standing with his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Reluctance clouded the blues of his eyes but he did not contradict Bucky’s story.

“There shouldn’t have been anyone on that floor. You said it was abandoned! That was the whole point of drawing them all to us. You should have been clear!” you tried to reason and shot a glance at Steve to confirm, but his gaze lowered to the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned your attention back to Bucky. “Did you get the files at least? Since you insisted on turning off your damn coms to get them?”

Your anger was a mask. Bucky could tell that much for certain by how your eyes shifted consistently to the blood in his left eye and the split on his lip. Fear was not an emotion you took kindly to, especially a fear you had no means of controlling.  

Bucky steeled his features the best he could and pulled the rolled file from the inside pocket of his jacket. Blood stained the corners of the crumpled folder and he set it on the table behind you. You did not seem even remotely satisfied by its presence.  

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’d been compromised?” you argued, shoving the folder further down the table. “I could have sent back up to you! Dammit Bucky, I would have come to you myself! You know I would have!”

Steve cleared his throat as he stepped away from the wall, a pleading heaviness filling his eyes as his head shifted towards you – a means of begging Bucky to come forward with the truth. You deserved as much, didn’t you? You cared for him for reasons beyond what Bucky could comprehend. But there would always be that sliver of doubt; that sickening voice in the back of his mind that questioned whether you might think he deserved the retaliation he got. Bucky only shook his head at Steve to warn him into silence.  

Your eyes narrowed on him, gaze following his path to Steve and back. Your instincts were not something Bucky should tread lightly around if he was intent on keeping this from you, and yet – there was some ache of relief to see the questions spinning behind your eyes, the stubbornness drawn to the surface to simply accept his ruse and pretend as though he wasn’t beaten into submission.  

Just as you parted your lips, you paused; your attention caught on the monitors just beyond Bucky’s shoulder. Upon one of the screens, Hanning was dramatically mimicking a fight scene to the entertainment of the surrounding agents. The video carried no sound but it was not easy to mistake the arrogant grin upon Hanning’s face as he showed off the bloodied cuts on his knuckles. Bucky resisted touching the bruise along his jawline.  

Bucky watched as you slowly moved closer to the monitor, studying every muscle in your body as you deciphered what you were seeing. Perhaps he might have been able to play it off as another one of Hanning’s pathetic attempts at boosting his ego by dramatizing a basic combat training move against a weak-willed Hydra agent, but while some of the agents looked to Hanning as if he were a god among men, some carefully – fearfully – looked over their shoulders to the debrief room. As if they were awaiting retaliation. Or punishment.  

Bucky swallowed bile as your spine suddenly went taunt. A gasp drew in a sharp breath to your lungs as you quickly turned to Bucky for confirmation. Suddenly he couldn’t speak – not with the way your eyes were pleading with him to deny it. You turned to Steve next and it only took a second before you saw the weight in his eyes, the truth he’d been hiding at the will of his best friend – how it ate away at him until there was little left. Your hand clasped over your mouth.  

“I’ll be outside,” Steve said quietly, sending an apologetic look in Bucky’s direction.

When the door closed behind him, you turned back to Bucky, waiting for him to say something – anything – to help you understand what happened. Hanning was an asshole, but to do something like this was unheard of. To attack a member of their own team under the ruse of a mission...

And maybe he should have confessed everything then and there, but his own fears were too strong – the possibility you might laugh in his face and side with Hanning, that you might believe him to be as vile and violent as the rest of them, undeserving of a second chance.  

So instead of an explanation, he reached into his back pocket and watched as your face contorted into something akin to horror and grief as he handed you a crumbled hundred-dollar bill. His hand trembled as he extended it to you.  

“What are you doing?” Your voice was barely a whisper; gaze fixated on the speckles of blood on the corners and under his nails.  

Bucky released a breath, though it burned on his exhale. “You won.”

You looked as though you might suffocate under the silence that sank into the room. Tears blurred into your eyes as you slowly took the bill from him, your fingertips lingering against his hand, and tossed it onto the table behind you as if the paper had burned you.  

“I don’t care about the stupid bet, Bucky! I don’t... I don’t want your money! I never wanted your money. Not ever,” you told him, voice shaking. You clenched your right hand into a fist as if it might quell the lump building in the back of your throat. “How long has this been happening?”

Bucky’s own throat was coated in gravel. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So, it has happened before.”

His stomach bottomed as he realized he’d given himself up. You were always too smart for him, too smart to fall for this pathetic ruse. He should have known better than to think he could keep this from you. He prepared himself for your anger, for your disappointment, for your mockery, but instead something akin to guilt sank into your features and Bucky swore his knees might give out entirely.  

“Our own men have gone after you like this... they’ve beaten you on these missions, reported it off as field injuries, and I... I just didn’t know?”  

You brushed at your tears. Bucky suddenly felt nauseous.  

“This isn’t your fault,” he said quickly, giving up on any attempts at concealing his lies further. He could not stand for you to think that you played a single role in this mess. This was on him. Only him. You were only ever the light in his darkest days. You could not hold an ounce of blame for what happened. He wouldn’t allow it.  

“You were in the med bay last month,” you realized suddenly, an awful mix of remorse and agony coating your features. “You were separated from the team when you were jumped. You said... You said it was Kingpin’s men but... it wasn’t, was it? SHIELD agents put you there. They were the ones who attacked you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his hand curling tightly to a fist as if that might stop the trembling. “This isn’t your burden to carry. I can take care of myself.”

“Not my burden?” you scoffed. “Look at you! Jesus, Buck. How is this even possible? You should be able to take these assholes on without breaking a sweat! I’ve seen you spar. I’ve fought alongside you. I know what you can do! Hanning barely has a scratch on him. You should have been able to knock him on his ass without—”

You froze and slowly, your shoulders sank.  

“God,” you exhaled, the realization shattering every inch inside your chest as you met his eyes. “You don’t fight back. You can’t, can you? Your pardon. It’s—”

“—conditional,” Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his matted hair. “One word to the council that I’ve stepped out of line and they could revoke it. I could end up on the raft for the rest of my life. And maybe... maybe I belong there anyway but I’m trying to better. To right the wrongs I’ve done. To... to be on the right side of things again. I can’t do that from behind bars. And if word got out I’m throwing punches at the good guys, that’s exactly where I’ll end up.”

“I won’t let that happen,” you swore, wasting no time in your promise. Before he realized it, you were standing only inches from him, your fingertips gently tracing the golden lines on his left hand. He wondered then how he could have ever feared mockery and disgust from a woman who touched him so tenderly.  

A tired smile tugged at his broken lip. “Steve doesn’t even have the power to intervene if it came to that. Let this go, Y/n. I can take a few punches if it means getting a chance to start over.”  

You winced at his words, clenching your jaw as if to choke back a sob. “You can’t keep letting them do this to you. I won’t let you.”

“What would you have me do?” Bucky asked, his voice absent of anger or challenge. It simply carried the heaviness of defeat, of acceptance. “You know what would happen if I gave the council a single reason to doubt which side I’m on. My hands are tied.”  

He realized his mistake the moment a deadly calm swept over you. Clarity, like standing under the eye of storm. Your gaze darted to the monitor where Hanning was still mimicking his fight with Bucky.

“Y/n, wait!”

But you were already halfway out of the room. You did not turn back at Bucky’s plea as you stormed around the corner of the short stretch of hall and into the primary deck of the quinjet. Steve straightened from his position leaning against the wall, his eyes darting behind you where Bucky was quickly following behind. But it was not Steve you’d come in search of.  

Hanning was laughing with a hoard of his men, gathered around the holograph table worth more than any of their miserable lives combined. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you, making a mockery of the fury raging into every line upon your face as you sought him out as he swatted his buddy on the arm.  

The bastard even had the unearned arrogance to smirk as he foolishly turned his attention to Bucky. “Enlisting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you, huh?”

You did not so much as slow your pace, did not draw in a full breath or acknowledge the slight furrow in Hanning’s brow before you threw a punch directly to his left cheekbone. He cursed as he jolted away from you, hands flying to his face as blood began to gush down his nose.  

“What the fuck is wrong with—”

You didn’t give him time to finish before you grabbed a firm hold of his collar and tossed him to the floor. Agents scrambled out of your warpath as you stalked after him.

Hanning looked up at Steve, holding onto his broken nose. Blood seeped from between his fingers. “Do something!”

Steve did not avert his gaze as he replied, “I didn’t see anything.”

Hanning’s eyes widened as you dropped to your knees beside him and fisted his collar. “Sergeant Barnes may not be able to fight back without breaking his pardon, but I sure as hell can. And unlike you, I don’t need my fights rigged to win. Lay a hand on him again and I’ll ensure you walk away from your next mission on a fucking stretcher!”

Hanning clawed at your grip, fear seeping through every line upon his face. “You can’t threaten me!”  

“Wanna bet?” Your nails nearly tore through the Kevlar fabric of Hanning’s shirt. “I’m an Avenger, asshole. You’re no one. I can make sure you’re transferred to the furthest corner of this planet. You’ll wish you were in space with the tree and the goddamn racoon!”

Hanning’s panicked eyes darted back to Steve who only shrugged and turned his attention to the passing of clouds outside the cockpit windows.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk as it tugged at his mouth. He folded his arms firmly over his chest, sinking back into his stance. This image of you – baring your teeth, vicious in every muscle, seething in defense of him – was one he would commit to memory. He’d return to it in his darkest hours when he could find no answer for the cruel voices in the back of his mind – to draw upon this moment to chase away his demons with your anger and protection.  

“Are we clear?” you ordered when Hanning was too stunned to respond. He nodded frantically, as did the rest of the crew. You released Hanning’s collar and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He stayed still as stone as you slowly rose to your feet and brushed off his blood on the thighs of your pants.  

Your chest heavy and steady – each breath longer than the last. You did not tear your eyes away from Hanning for even a second, ensuring he felt every ounce of the rage burning inside of you.  

Bucky took a step forward, unbothered by the stares of the agents as he approached you. He set a hand on your shoulder, instantly noting the rigid tension in your muscles.  

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice quiet enough only you could have heard him. You expelled a breath as if it were made of fire and slowly followed him from the room.  

Bucky stepped inside the debriefing room first. He looked to the windows where clouds were passing by below the jetstream. Steady. Even. He took as much of their calm as he could manage and picked up the crumpled hundred dollar bill from the table. When he turned to face you again, he attempted to hand you the money but you held your hands up defensively and took a cautious step backward.  

“Bucky, no. Please, I don’t want it,” you resisted, your voice hollow and pained. “I only made the stupid bet to get you to stop being so reckless. I don’t want your money.”

He smiled at your stubbornness, at your scheming means to keep him safe. Bucky inched closer to you, extending his left palm up until you cautiously set your hand in his. His thumb drew a careful line along your palm and you watched him with such startling precision, he wondered if you might have been committing the feeling to memory.  

“What happened to our plans for Coney Island?” he asked softly.

Tears spilled over your cheekbones as a tired laugh escaped you. He pressed the bill into your palm and closed your grip around it – holding it tight at the center of your hand as gently as you might his own heart.  

“I should have said something the first time it happened,” Bucky said quietly, his gaze still fixated on your closed fist resting on his palm. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“No, I do.” He sighed, concentrating on the smooth skin of your hand. He skimmed his thumb along the tender skin on your knuckles, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest. “You didn’t even hesitate to defend me. Didn’t even second guess why they might have gone after me. You... you didn't question if I deserved it.”

Your face slacked at his admission. “Bucky...”

“I should have told you,” he repeated despite the burden of grief in your voice. He knew now that if he’d offered you a share of this weight from the start, that maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this far. Hanning wouldn’t have planned each mission to ensure he cornered Bucky on his own and got in enough swings to fuel his pathetic, sheltered ego. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t have spent so long believing this was his penance.  

You lifted your free hand to the side of his face, gently settling against the bruising to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling. Your thumb brushed along a tender ache on his cheekbone but there was no pain under your touch.  

“I know now,” you told him softly, “and it won’t ever happen again.”

Bucky smiled though it tugged at the split on his lip. “I know.”

You lowered your hand from his face and gently pushed the hundred-dollar bill back towards him. “Take this back, Buck. Take it back and promise we’ll still go to Coney Island.”

Bucky closed his fist around the crumpled bill and slowly nodded. You did not release his hand. You did not pull away. You only held him – touched him as though you could not stand to pull away from him.  

“I swear it,” he exhaled, his gaze still fixated on your hands.  

You sighed, relief slipping through your body as you smiled at him. “Think you can win me a giant bear?”

Bucky chuckled and he didn’t mind when the split on his lip ached as he smiled. “Should we bet on it?”  

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[cattynamie]

Babysitting with Leona Kingscholar

+ Cheka.

Author's note : I've had this idea for a while and i'm actually going to embrace it this time :3, AGAIN. i had to do a little research on Cheka's character, so i hope i got him and Leona correctly.

Warnings : None! Completely SFW and anyone can read if they want. Also, the reader has no specific pronouns as far as im aware and can or can not be seen as Yuu! The choice is up to you ;)

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At first, Leona wanted to keep you away from Cheka as long as it was possible. Mostly because he doesn't want his brother smothering over you or asking you to tag along everytime there's a family dinner... Is it selfish wanting to keep your attention on him? Nah, he doesn't think so, you two are dating after all.

So, once in a blue moon, Leona text his brother asking when is Cheka coming over to avoid Cheka from meeting you personally as his partner. And also accidentally making Farena think that Leona's asking because he misses the little rascal (Yes he does, but just a bit and he'll never tell that to anyone.)

So Farena lies and tells him that Cheka's coming next week on Friday. And just decides to send Cheka that same day just to surprise Leona. Unknowingly to Leona, of course. Who was just having his nap number 427 BUT!! this one was special. You had managed to finish your school work in time and decided to take a nap beside Leona. (Which ended up being completely smothered by his body while he layed comfortably on top of you, but you had already gotten used to it at this point, but if you had some problem breathing, you'll just have to pat his back a couple times to change sleep positions.)

That is until Leona starts to hear impatient knocks on the door, almost a if they were hitting the door with both of their fists. Making one of his ears twich and his tail sway in annoyance before he grumbles an "What now?" Loud enough for the person to hear but still smothering your face with his body so you don't hear.

As a response, the door flies open, revealing the so called rascal with sun hair color and slightly tanned skin with a bright smile on his face at the sigh of his Uncle Leona who lies flabbergasted at the sight of the youngling, quickly putting all of his weight on you and smothering you awake before using the blankets to cover your figure.

"Uncle Leona! I finally found you!"

At the sudden raisse of voice, you start to fight Leona in order to geth the blanket that of in front of your face. (You were suffocating ;()

"You- What are you doing here?!" Leona growls as he continues to hold you down, hiding you from the sight of his nephew and suffocating you affecionately <3

"Weren't you supposed to come next week?!"

"Yeah! But you missed me and i also missed you! So i couldn't just wait anymore!" Cheka says with a bright smile as he jumps on Leona's bare back with a laugh, making Leona distracted as he let's go of the blanket and you pull it down, taking a fistfull of air as you try to push air back to your lungs.

Unknowingly to you, Leona was staring down at you curiously with wide eyes as he hold firmly from Leona's back.

"You're one of my Uncle's friends?"

And that was the last thing you heard before you were smothered by the youngling too.

-

As soon as Cheka found out who you were, he wanted to run to his attendants and tell them EVERYTHING.

When his plan were instantly thwarted by Leona who grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him up to the air significantly before he could run and speak about the both of you to the attendant's.

Leona already knew that he could not buy Cheka's silence with ANYTHING but if he was going to tell, he'd rather Farena finding out late at the night. (so he can ignore his messages with a excuse.)

In order to keep Cheka busy, you offered a friendly chess game, which Cheka instantly agreed to spend time with his uncle, and Leona... was not so pleased with it, but he'll make the sacrifice.

So, it basically was you and Cheka vs THE Leona himself.

Cheka didn't really know how to play correctly (And you aren't that much a great player either...), so it was Leona's duty to teach you both correctly. (Not that he'd let you both win, but he did teach you both helpfull strategies so he doesn't or anyone win instantly.)

After that, you let Cheka rant all about his hometown as he lays on Leona's stomach while he plays with his braids. (Which you're kind of grateful for since Leona doesn't really speak about it) While youre massaging Leona's head in your lap.

...Which quickly lead on into Cheka and Leona playfighting on the bed. With a little bit of struggle, Leona managed to win the fight (unsurprisingly) and just slumped into the bedsheets because "He was already tired". Luckily, the little rascal grews tired too and slumps into Leona's back too, earning a groan from Leona as he grabs your elbow and starts to tug you into lay down too.

And you three ended up sleeping until the evening <3 Until a soft knock comes and an attendant peeks his head into Leona's room, saying that its time for the young prince to go home, (trying not to ask about your sleeping form as much as they can) But as soon as Leona steped out of the door, Leona could hear how he starts to tell them EVERYTHING about what you all did today.

With a soft groan and a sway of his tail, he embraces you once again and not EVEN ten minutes later, Farena tarts to spam message's into his brother's phone about you. Just as expected, Leona ignored them all and threw his phone at the other side of the bed, snugling his fcae into your neck as you both drift up to sleep <33

-

OKAY that's all!! i had fun writing for this too, a great wy to pass tijme. once again, please forgive me if i got any of the character's wrong in this post, any kind of note or criticism will be very well welcomed!! thank you for anyone who's reding this i love you xoxo byeeeeeeee!1!!!!11!!

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : You and Bucky have a huge fight just before your heat starts. Now you have to choose; lose the argument and apologise or be a brat and see what happens.

『Word count』 : 2.05k

Paring: Alpha!Wolf!Bucky x Bunny!Hybrid!Reader

[Warnings] : Objectification. Swearing. Hate sex. Spanking. Using a belt to tie the reader up. Fingering, dirty talk. Pet name. Use of the words slut, whore and bitch. Heavy degradation. Choking. Crying kink. Little cum eating. Lots of body fluids. Pussy slapping. Big dick Bucky. Angst. Angry Bucky. Fighting. Some fluff at the end, I guess.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

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Frustration brewed in Bucky as he paced the halls of the pack grounds. He didn’t mean what he said to you. But his pride refused to let him apologise first. Yes, you were both in the wrong, and you both were well aware of that. But the heated argument didn’t stop until you walked out of the room. Storming to your shared living quarters without him. He stays in the main hall for a while. Keeping his distance from anyone. And if anyone dared to speak to their angry leader, he would growl in a tone that scared anyone's wolf away.

It had only been a couple of hours. Four? Five? Heck, it was probably going on six at this point. His wolf was howling, begging for him to just give up this silent no-talking game that you and Bucky had started. But no, he needed you to apologize first. So, after finally stopping his frustrated pacing, he went to his study to try and get work done in order to distract himself. It worked for maybe five minutes before he threw some papers—that were most likely important— on the floor.

Fuck it. He thought, getting up to make a quick stride over to his living quarters but when he aggressively opened his study room door he is suddenly met with a sight he didn’t know he was going to witness for another week.

“B-Buck...” It was you. Carrying a sad pout and clenched thighs. He could smell your arousal leaking out of you. Your eyes were already glossed over and full of desperation. Through the fight, he completely misread the date, forgetting your heat was approaching. It took every fibre in his being not to pounce on you then and there. God, you smelt amazing.

“Come to apologize, I see.” His cockiness grew, knowing you would have to apologize now, and then you can both just forget about the silly fight. But little did he know you weren't going to give up that easily either. Even if you were on your heat and desperately craved him. Two can play the game, and by swearing to the moon goddess herself, you were going to try everything in order to win. Even if that means you make him even madder than he already is.

“No. It's you who should apologize.” You bit at him, while his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you inside the room before closing the door with your body. He had you pinned. Unable to move. Just how he liked it. His cocky smile stayed plastered on his face, tilting his head slightly he whispered against your neck.

“Hmm from what I can remember, it is you who started this. And besides, it seems you have a problem only I can fix. So I think you better start begging for forgiveness.” His hot breath tickled your skin. He was teasing your body, wanting to bend you. Break you. But you pushed him away slightly, showing fire burning in your eyes.

“I swear to fucking god James if you don’t do something, I will go to your fucking beta and ask him to fuck me.” you pulled him by his collar so your lips could graze his ear while his cocky expression slowly turned into one of anger. “I’m sure as hell he would be more than happy to oblige and make me cum.”

Oh, that sent him over the edge. His vision turned red as he gripped your waist before lifting you up over his shoulder. His hand landed a harsh smack on your ass sending a shiver down your spine. Your heat surge threw you like a sweetened pain, making you grip the hem of Bucky's shirt. You tug it up seeing his toned back with your upside-down view. It didn’t take long for your lover to make it to your bedroom, practically throwing you. You land on the soft comforter on your bed, pushing your face against the fluffy duvet as you watch Bucky with hooded eyes. All your anger and frustration was gone, and suddenly, the only thing you cared for was to have him in any way, shape, or form.

“Buckyy…” you groan, wanting him near you. He watched you with a smirk like he was enjoying your struggle. The tilt of his head proved just that, bending down to grab your chin, pulling you towards him. You thought he was still mad, unaffected by your heat. And you were partly right. He was still angry about what happened, but his mind was slowly losing control the more and more he took in your scent. He had always been caring and sweet in and out of the bedroom. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. But now. Now he saw raw anger-fueled lust, and he needed to release the emotions, and your body seemed to be the perfect toy for it.

“You know that I respect you, right?” He whispers in a softer tone than before, almost as if he held perfect composure. His fingers that gripped your chin moved to squish your cheeks together. Your lips pouted from the action, making you look pathetic to him.

“Yes,” you tried to speak, but his grip was tight. Your hips wiggled in anticipation, seeing his free hand reach for his belt, undoing it with ease.

“Because I’m about to fuck you with nothing but disrespect.”

-

Your hands were tied with the very belt he wore. Your naked form was on display just for him while he was still in his dress pants. You wanted to see all of him, have all of him. But you knew you shouldn’t dare ask for more. His fingers were sitting deep inside you, fucking you through yet another orgasm. You were so desperate for more, but you also begged for him to stop. But he didn’t listen. Your sweet scent, rich cherry with hints of vanilla, is infused in his veins and lingers on his skin like a tattoo. Those soft, whimpery sounds you make when his fingers are inside you are most alluring as the way your eyes glazed over, rolling back when he finds an especially good spot. It’s almost as irresistible as the way you would cling to him, clawing his back when it all becomes too much for your body to handle while he fucks you hard.

He’s so greedy for all of it. He can’t get enough of you. No matter how much you give, he wants more, wants to give you more of himself in return.

And it’s all your fault.

“You dirty fucking slut. Wanting another man to please you when you know for a fact I'm the only one who can make this pussy come.” He growled, leaning over your thrashing body, licking your mate mark, and taking in your scent. You didn’t even try and make a snarky comeback, just moaning out a choked please over and over like a broken record instead.

“Who knew my precious baby liked to be fucked like a whore.” He smirks feeling you clench around his fingers “You want that Doll? Want me to use this body as a toy? Fill it up with my cum for my own pleasure?”

“Yes Yes Yes Please! Fuck James!!” You screamed, cumming for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Tears ran down, staining your cheeks. Your lips were puffy and red, swollen from the makeout. God, you were so beautiful in this moment. He wished he could print this image in his mind forever. He pulled his fingers out from your leaking hole, seeing your cum spill on the bed. He had to chuckle at how many times he made you cum just with his fingers.

“Pathetic.” He taped your lips with his cum soaked fingers, wanting you to take them in your mouth. You obeyed the silent command, sucking your release off while he uses his free hand to unbuckle his pants so he could be free of them.

“Turn around now. And I swear to god, if you try and run, I’ll tie you back down and leave you here with a vibrator connected to you. Understand.” He spat out, growling in his alpha voice, making your wolf howl in a plea. You nodded but he wanted words, so he slapped your pussy, making you jump at the shock. “Words. Bitch.”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?” He reached for the belt, waiting for your response before he opened the clasp.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Good Girl.” The clasp clicks, freeing your red and soon-to-be bruised wrists. You take no second chances, turning around, lifting your ass in the air for him to see you in full display. He stood at the end of the bed with a smirk plastered on his face. You were presenting yourself just for him.

Bucky could barely stand any more brief seconds his cock was not in your warm, tight pussy, immediately getting on the bed before rolling his hips to get deep inside you with one swift motion. There’s no way he’s stopping now, he can’t stop, not until he’s gotten orgasm after orgasm after orgasm out of you, like before.

He drops his weight on top of you and his sweet scent, smoked Maple, and spiced citrus drifts around you in hazy waves. You could get high off his smell alone. Teeth graze your bonding mark, the wide pad of his thumb finds your aching clit, ruthlessly circling it, sensations skitter across your skin and he grinds into you, your pussy stretched tight around his thick cock, the veiny ridges sliding against your velvety walls, leaving you so full you don’t know if you want to push him out and beg for a reprieve or clench down and beg for more.

“Cum for me? There you go, give it to me. My dirty little slut,” he grunts, “Gonna fill your tight little pussy again and again and then I’m gonna shove every drop of my cum back inside you, gonna keep you. Yeah, that’s it, fuck—such a good baby, giving me what I need, so fucking tight and warm and soft, fuck fuck I can't-,”

He breaks off, losing control for a moment. The frustration finally started to wash away. His metal hand, retches upwards, snaking around your throat in order to pull you up along with his body. But his grip tightens, making your head spin in pure pleasure. You clenched around him from his actions, letting him know you enjoy the feeling just as he enjoys the feeling of his fingers wrapped perfectly around your fragile neck. His filthy words had pushed you to the brink, blinding hot sensations flowing through your veins but it’s the way he loses control, his words slurring together, his pace quickening, becoming erratic and sloppy, thrust after deep, smooth thrust that set off your orgasm.

An indescribable noise escaped your slacked mouth, your vision blurring, and your body tensing as Bucky fucks you through. His moans stream in your ear, pushing you higher and higher until you break with a quiet sob, falling back to the sheets, pliant and sated when he finally lets your neck go. Bucky is quick to follow, chasing his own high as soon as he felt your orgasms, warmth flooding your body as he cums. His hips jerked once, twice, three times, desperately trying to push it back inside you even as it seeps around his cock.

A moment of silence is finally placed. No more anger. No more wild emotions. Just heavy breathing and fast-pumping hearts. He slid his cock out of you, swiftly turning you around so he could cage your body under him in a tight, warm hug. Was he now the one crying?

“I’m sorry…” He finally said, giving up on the whole fight entirely. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. Enough for your face to slot against his neck, feeling safe in his arms, surrounded by his scent.

“I’m sorry too…”

[blueninjablade3]

Yandere Frollo Alphabet

Real quick for my regular readers who are waiting for the Hades Angst I’m working on it at a snails pace but it’s shaping up nicely. I’m publishing this solely because it’s been in my drafts taunting me.

TW: Yandere themes, Slurs/ talks about slurs, genocide, medieval torture, isolation, abuse, gaslight, lack of right, racism, and religious themes.

If you are uncomfortable with any of this scroll on. I won’t be offended. If you are in a bad mental state I don’t recommend reading this Yandere relationships are extremely toxic and dangerous. If you or someone you love are in an abusive relationship, please remember you have resources to help you. I believe I’ve covered most of my bases so without further ado Yandere Frollo alphabet. Ps, left a little music if anyone wants to listen to that while they read.

Affection: how do they show you love and affection? How intense can It get?

I view Frollo somewhat like “I never quite learned to verbalize my feelings so I’m going to do very small things to tell you I love you.” Also, he brings you grapes. It’s every day he brings you grapes. (Unless you’re getting punished.) He does do the traditional kiss-your-cheek and forehead tho.

Blood: How dirty is he willing to get when it comes to you?

He’s willing to burn down all of Paris to find you. You and Esmeralda are gonna be best friends and shit talk Frollo together.

Cruelty: how will they treat you once kidnapped will he mock you?

Yes. Wtf do you think I would say “No he’s an angel” Brother has no problem calling someone a slur. Hell, I’d put money on the fact that he’d call a black person the N word hard R to their face. (He’s seriously the worst tho. Get y’all a man like… uh Prince Naveen. He’ll treat you better)

Darling: besides kidnapping you would he do anything else against your will?

Being an active part of the Romani people’s slaughter, being horrible to Quasi, and whipping people are the ones that are off the top of my head. I’m probably missing others but the point is he absolutely would.

Exposed: How much of his heart do you bear?

I think you actually bear 40%. The other 60 goes to the Bible and Christ. Don’t worry that’s still more than his family ever got.

Fight: How would he feel if you fought back?

CHOOSE ME OR YOUR PYRE BE MINE OR YOU WILL BURN~! But in all seriousness, he’s going to be so upset and do the same thing that he does to Quasi.

Game: Is this a Game to them? Would he like watching his darling try to escape?

No! This isn’t a game! Those filthy gypsies can’t be trusted! (it feels wrong even typing that 😭) They’ll harm you! You need to stay safe. In the bell tower.

I also don’t think he’d enjoy you escaping. He wants you at arm’s length at all times.

Hell: Your worst experience with him.

After one of your little “stunts” he had you flogged for a few hours and then you didn’t get lunch for a few days. (like three)

Ideals: what he sees in the future with you.

He sees a traditional Christian marriage (pretend male x male relationships were most of the time accepted by the church), a couple of NORMAL kids (he is the worst), and all the Romani people dead. (ICK)

Jealousy: does he get jealous and if he does, does he find a way to cope or will he lash out?

He gets very jealous and never controls it. He always lashes out. At this point, don’t even look at a fly anymore. He’ll get jealous of it.

Kisses: How does he act around you?

He’s possessive, creepy, and lustful. Think about how he behaves with Esma and multiply by two.

Love letters: how would he go about courting/approaching you?

He’s very traditional. He’s the type who’d buy a goat to give to your dad and then just be like “Gimme.” But he would approach you beforehand and have some small talk in passing.

Mask: Are his truth colors different from what people think?

No. He’s very publicly creepy and weird it seems. People also fear him and view him as dangerous which you can say firsthand is true. Creepy bitch.

Naughty: how would he punish you?

He’s the type to flog you for a little, isolate you, and then limit food consumption. You’re extremely afraid of acting out or acting against him for fear of his reaction.

Oppression: what rights did he take away from you:

Freedom, religion (if you’re anything other than Roman Catholic you’ll have to practice and pray in secret.), privacy, and if you’re American the right to bear arms. Really any weapons he’ll take away. (Maybe see if you can hide a dagger?)

Regret: does he regret kidnapping you? Will he ever let you go?

Haha! You’re so funny if you think he’d let you go or think he’d regret kidnapping you! The Lord brought you two together! You two were meant to be! Now stop struggling unless you wanna go back to the palace of justice.

Sigma: what brought this side of him?

I think his lust, pride, and lack of getting any bitches over his years all contributed. He got lustful for you, and he didn’t know how to react, then instead of admitting that he was in the wrong his pride got the best of him, and blamed you. When his lust won caused his Yandere actions.

Tears: how would he feel if you cried screamed or Isolated yourself?

He doesn’t care! You’ll learn to love him eventually. If you don’t… you won’t like what’s gonna happen. But do go ahead.

Unique: is there anything different from a normal Yandere

He has a massive superiority complex? He also can have people flogged and not be questioned.

Vice: what can you use to escape him?

I’m not quite sure. I guess maybe you could hide in the court of miracles?

Witts end: would he ever hurt you

Without a second thought.

Xoanon: how much does he revere/worship you and to what extent is he willing to go to win you over

He’s willing to go to extreme lengths. I know I’ve talked a lot of shit about him in this but in all seriousness, he views you as a gift from the heavens. An angel sent to him. His angel.

Yearn: How long before he snapped and kidnapped you?

He’s a patient man. I’m going to say if you play your cards right and Quasi is still young about 1.5 years till he snaps.

Zenith: would he ever break you?

Oh definitely.

Thank you for reading! Please remember that rebloging, likes and comments are much appreciated! ❤️

[chishiyasleftnut]

Is there going to be more parts to stuck with you where chishiya redeems himself I guess

IM BAAAAAACK! ٩(◕‿◕)۶

Thank you for your request and patience, it’s been a rough couple of months. I’ve always wanted to make an insane author note and it’s finally my time to shine:

I had a mental breakdown, got hospitalised due to it, had to fight to get sick leave from my studies (I was supposed to be done with my bachelor’s now so rip that), and then when things finally lined up I GOT A CONCUSSION. So, it’s been a rough couple of months but now I’m back and unstoppable (⌐■_■) 

Anyway, I hope you’ll like this story!

Stuck With You (part 3)

(Read part 1 and part 2 here)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Genre: Smut Warnings: Smut. Includes oral (both female and male receiving), penetration (female receiving), unprotected sex. Pairing: Chishiay x fem!reader

Plot: After spending the night together in more than one way, Chishiya finds it hard to keep his hands off of you - even in a life and death situation. The real question is: what have you two become?

3082 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You felt as if you had barely closed your eyes when you were rudely awakened by chirping birds, sunlight shining through the thin and cheap material that the tent was made of. With a big yawn, you sat up in the tent, stretching your sore limbs before looking to your left where Chishiya had spent the last few nights, expecting to see him laying besides you with dishevelled hair as he always had in the mornings. To your surprise, he was nowhere to be found.

“I swear to God if this was some weird type of ‘hit-it then quit-it” I’m going to tear him to shreds the next time we meet,” you mumbled, immediately getting flashbacks to previous similar situations.

With no other choice than to continue your day, you got dressed in silence before emerging out of the tent. And there he was: carefully fidgeting with something you couldn’t quite make out. His head turned towards the sound of the tent zipper unzipping.

“Morning, princess,” he smirked. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine.” That was a lie and you both knew it. You looked like a hot mess with dark blue bags under your eyes and your hair all tangled up. “I thought you ditched me, I won’t lie.”

“Do you think so little of me?” he said, his grin only growing more annoying by the second.

You shrugged to avoid the question - truth be told you still weren’t sure where you had him - and moved closer to him, sitting down next to him on the grass and looking at whatever he was creating. Noticing your peaked interest, he replied to your silent question.

“It’s a stun grenade. Probably not deadly, but it’ll do some damage,” he said nonchalantly. Noticing your confusion, he continued. “I thought it would be a good distraction if we run into problems. It might buy us some time if we need to run.”

“I didn’t know you could run.”

Although the air that huffed out of his nose told you that he found your remark funny, he decided not to reply to your snarky comment.

“Anyway, it’s good to have, isn’t it?” he asked.

You shrugged again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of him knowing once again that he was right. Why did he always have to think so far ahead? It was annoying you relentlessly how he was right more often than he was wrong. It was Chishiya who spoke first, looking at the stun grenade before stuffing it in his left pocket.

“There’s a hearts game,” he said while pointing distantly towards the sky.

Your heart sunk. Playing a hearts game with an ally was either incredibly beneficial or terribly traumatising. Although you wouldn’t say it out loud, you didn’t want to risk losing Chishiya and you had a feeling that he agreed. Actually, who were you kidding, you knew very well that Chishiya would sacrifice you without a second thought way before you had the chance to sacrifice him. Still, it felt unnecessarily risky.

“Do we have to attend it?”

“Mhm, it’s the closest one to us.”

And that was that. With no counter arguments, you both picked up a few belongings and headed towards the big banner floating above who knew what. Jack of Hearts.

The venue was an old prison. The big iron door which encapsulated the depressing location eerily creaked as you carefully entered the slowly deteriorating building. Of all the games sites you had been at, this was definitely up there in creepiness. With each step you took, you got reminded of the horrors this place had once been home to. You shivered at the thought, trying your best to conceal your feelings about the location.

Much to Chishiya’s dismay, you were required to hand in all potentially dangerous belongings before you could enter the game. Chishiya kissed his teeth and reluctantly let go of the stun grenade he had spent all morning on assembling.

“A shame,” he said monotonously. “Seems like I won’t get to test my creation.”

You muttered a silent thank God under your breath. The idea of a homemade stun grenade didn’t seem very safe to you, and with your luck it would somehow explode in his hands and kill the both of you.

“Did you say something?”

Crap. He heard you. It was like he had super-human hearing at times.

“No,” you lied, causing Chishiya to sneer. Nonetheless, he luckily dropped the subject.

The game started not long after you put on the collar supplied to you by the game masters (whoever the hell that was). The metal was cold, but otherwise it wasn’t particularly uncomfortable. That was good, considering you had to wear it for an unknown amount of time.

The rules were simple. Each person’s collar showed a symbol which you had to announce every hour in a private jail cell. Easy enough, right? The only catch: you couldn’t see this symbol by yourself. The collar was placed in such a way that it was impossible to do so. The obvious solution would be to use a reflective surface - something that was regrettably forbidden by the rules. If you said the wrong symbol: game over. That meant the game was one big exercise in trust with the sole goal of killing off the unidentified Jack of Hearts.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you realised you would not be forced to be in a position where you or Chishiya could get hurt. You trusted each other, right? At least more than you trusted the other strangers in the prison. This would be fine.

And for the first time in what felt like years, it was fine. What you hadn’t considered was how God awful boring this game would be, giving you nothing to do but eat snacks and talk for hours. There were already clear alliances formed amongst the players, causing the Jack to hide safely amongst an unsuspected group of players until someone inevitably fucked up and mistrusted their group.

The boredom had started to hit both you and Chishiya hard. Although he tried to hide it, you knew there were only so many packages of biscuits one man could eat before he went insane. It therefore shouldn’t have surprised you when he pulled you aside at the beginning of the 4th round.

“What are you-“ you managed to exclaim before Chishiya covered your mouth and dragged you into his cell.

“Shhh,” he said with a smirk, looking rather pleased with his plan to waste some time. He immediately yet carefully closed the heavy cell door, making sure not to slam it shut. “Be quiet, we don’t want everyone to hear, now do we?”

“Hear what exactly?”

Despite your confusion, you instinctively lowered your voice to comply with his request. You had long ago stopped questioning Chishiya on these things.

“We’re both bored, aren’t we? I can think of a thing or two we could do to make the time go by faster.”

And that’s when you got it. Sex. He wanted sex in the middle of a game. This wasn’t the Chishiya you knew back at the Beach - that Chishiya would never have been willing to be vulnerable at all, much less during a game.

“What, am I that addicting?” you joked, snaking your arms around the back of his neck. It wasn’t like you were about to complain over or resist his offer. If you spent one more round doing nothing you might actually have died from boredom.

“Very much so,” he admitted, his own hands finding their way to your waist.

It felt good knowing you were wanted - and by Chishiya of all people. Feeling a rush of confidence, you initiated the first kiss, pressing your lips against his firmly. As expected, Chishiya immediately reciprocated, gently leading you towards the wall and pushing you up against it without breaking contact with your sweet lips.

When Chishiya’s hand left your waist to sneak under the waistline of your pants, his mind occupied with lewd thoughts of what was to come, you took the opportunity to switch the position around, taking him by surprise as you pivoted and pushed him forcefully against the cold wall.

The look on his face was priceless, but you didn’t have time to bask in the rays of satisfaction you felt. Instead, you dropped to your knees and placed both hands on his thighs, making sure to look at him up through your eyelashes.

Without hesitation, you hooked your fingers under his sweatpants and pulled them down, revealing his half hard dick. You broke eye contact to gaze at his length, examining the thing that made you feel pure bliss the night before. The thoughts of last night’s encounter made your mouth salivate, causing you to gulp down the excess saliva.

You must have been staring for a while, completely absorbed in the memories, and fully disconnected from reality, because you suddenly felt Chishiya’s hand grabbing yours, gently guiding your fingers around his half-erect dick. You understood what that meant, immediately going to work on making him harder, gliding your hand up and down his entire length, watching as it grew and grew.

Once you noticed small droplets of pre-cum oozing from the tip, you placed your flattened tongue at the base of his dick before sliding it up all the way. Not having expected the sudden change of sensation, Chishiya shuddered and gasped in one breath, his hand moving into your hair.

You flicked your tongue over the sensitive head, enjoying the way his hardness twitched each time the slightly rough yet at the same time soft tissue of your tongue brushed over the tip. Satisfied with the reaction this got you - and feeling as if you had made him wait long enough already - you opened your mouth just wide enough to take him in his entirety, letting his dick fill up your throat as you took him down to the root.

“Fuck,” you faintly heard Chishiya mutter, your other senses almost completely dulled by the feeling of Chishiya’s length occupying your esophagus.

As Chishiya adjusted to the warmth and tightness of your throat, his fingers entangled in your hair. He pulled on it ever so slightly, silently begging you to fuck him with your mouth. And you did, diligently bobbing your head up and down, savouring the feel and taste of him with each movement.

Just as you felt like you had gotten into a good rhythm, Chishiya pulled your head away from his body, your mouth leaving him with a wet, pop sound. He shuddered slightly at the cold air which had so suddenly hit his now wet skin before he pulled his pants back up.

He noticed your confused eyes, but instead of speaking he pulled you up on your feet and guided you towards what you could only imagine was the prison cell’s bed. The bed (if you could even call the cold metal slap that hopefully once had held a mattress a bed) wasn’t exactly comfortable, but neither was the shitty two-man tent in which you two last shared a moment. At least you had more space now than you did last night, opening up for more possibilities.

With a small push, Chishiya got you seated on the metal before kneeling down on the floor in front of you, swiftly pulling off your pants and underpants and seating himself between your legs. The coldness from the metal now directly against your bare buttocks didn’t exactly feel nice, but luckily for you it didn’t take long before he hiked both of his arms underneath your thighs and lifted your lower body up against his face, so you were doing a shoulder stand.

Wasting no time, he immediately plunged his tongue into the depth of your core, licking up your arousal as if he had been wandering around a desert for days with no water. Your sounds went from confusion caused by the awkward position to deep pleasure in record time, your moans being harder and harder to suppress when he finally flicked his tongue over your so far heavily neglected clit. He hummed and growled as he indulged in your taste, the vibrations from his mouth only furthering your arousal and excitement.

His tongue was working overtime, alternating between circling your love button and pushing deep inside of you. You were so zoned out from reality, entering an almost trance-like state brought on by his tongue, that you barely noticed his hand moving down your body, sliding underneath your shirt until it reached your breast. There, Chishiya snaked around your bra and began massaging your boob, occasionally putting extra focus on your sensitive nipple.

Despite the objectively rather awkward and uncomfortable position, you soon enough felt a cascade of pleasure engulf your entire being as Chishiya’s mouth helped you reach your climax. Chishiya didn’t stop - instead he continued to flick his tongue around your most sensitive area, accompanying you through every last pulsation your core made. Once your hand-muffled moans had turned into soft whimpers, he put you down and wiped his mouth with his arm.

Now that you were fully horizontal again, you began feeling the aches in your neck. Perhaps doing a shoulder stand for God knows how long, on a metal bed, was not the best choice. Chishiya too looked as if he was internally questioning his decision to eat you out like that, but he wasn’t a quitter. Not wanting to waste even a second more than he had to, he stood back up and pulled down his sweatpants, his hard length slapping against his stomach once freed.

His dick didn’t even need extra attention before he was set to go. It was so perfectly ready for you; hard, red, throbbing, with a bead of precum adorning the tip. It was almost beautiful - well as beautiful as a dick can be. You didn’t get to admire it for long before he climbed on top of you, pushing your body further down on the metal bed and immediately entering you once on top of you.

With his dick buried so deep inside of you that it almost felt like he was piercing through to your stomach, Chishiya began thrusting in and out of you, his tip forcefully slamming against your cervix each time. You were well aware that you were supposed to be quiet and yet you couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that left your lips. Chishiya quickly covered your mouth with his hand, shusshing into your ear through his own low groans.

Your hands found their way around Chishiya’s torso, gripping tightly onto the soft fabric of his hoodie. Had he not been wearing said hoodie your nails would have painfully been digging into his skin, leaving marks for hours to come. Luckily for his back that was not the case and he barely even noticed how tightly you were clinging onto him.

“I’m gonna-” you began saying into his hand, your words muffled. To everyone else, the sounds would have been unintelligible, but Chishiya knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“Come,” he demanded, growling the command into your ear.

Your mind completely blanked after that, your body only able to feel the immense pleasure that was flowing through every fibre of your being, raising every little hair on your arms and igniting nerves you didn’t know existed. The intense pulsation from your core caused Chishiya to finish soon after, his dick rhythmically spouting his seed deep inside of you.

You both rode out your high together, Chishiya eventually collapsing down on you, grounding you further down on the hard, metal bed. The only sound audible in the room was that of heavy breathing. That was until Chishiya suddenly stood up and redressed his lower half. You raised your eyebrows at his promptness, something that he noticed.

“We can’t stay in here all day. We have a game to play,” he said. Perhaps you were imagining it, but you swore you could see the faintest satisfied smirk on his lips.

You had no reply, but instead followed suit and put you pants back on. As you stood up you felt the sensation of Chishiya’s seed slowly seeping out of you, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t like there were tissues laying around to help with that right now.

The silence in the room was thick, a contrast to the sounds of pleasure that only a few minutes prior had faintly echoed around the bare room. That was, until you bravely decided to ask the question that had been on your mind since last night.

“So, what are we?” you asked, trying to sound more confident than you were. He, of course, saw right through you. He always did.

“I don’t know, what are we?” he repeated like a parrot, avoiding answering the question. You knew it was because he loved toying you around. Perhaps you liked being toyed with too, but that felt more like something you should discuss with a therapist than with Chishiya.

“No no no, I asked you first.”

He didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t, that would have been too easy of him. Instead, he opened the cell door again and gestured towards the hallway outside.

“We have a game to finish.”

And that was that. You knew you wouldn’t get a better answer out of him - not today at least - so you followed his lead, exiting the jail cell and pretending as if you hadn’t spent the last small hour with Chishiya rearranging your guts.

The following rounds were slowly getting more and more dramatic, with the other groups disbanding due to betrayals and a general sense of unease spreading through the prison. In that regard, you were quite lucky that you had Chishiya. Even more so when he eventually cracked the code and helped you both survive the game unarmed.

Together you silently walked back to the little camp that you had created and mutely crawled back into the tent. No words were spoken as you both laid flatly down on the mats next to each other. What was there to say? Bringing up the game would do nothing but remind you of the precarious situation you were in. Bringing up what happened during the game would require both of you to openly discuss feelings. Yeah, no. Silence was the right option. At least for tonight.

[PART FOUR HERE]

[miguelschamp]

perfect

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: conrad comforts you after a fight with your mom

warnings: angst and family issues, but there’s fluff of course

the day started off good with everyone excited to celebrate one of susannah’s favorite holidays. susannah’s excitement filling the house as you and your childhood best friends joked around and laughed together as the day went on.

then conrad and jeremiah’s dad showed up which made it very awkward for everyone.

but it slowly became okay again when all of the teenagers went to hang out at the beach. drinking and playing a bunch of different games together.

you guys headed back to the house after a couple of hours and everything seemed alright until it came time to cut the cake.

belly had a little too much to drink and tripped and fell into susannah. breaking one of her dishes and completely destroying the cake.

as belly’s dad helped her into the house and laurel helped calm susannah, your mom turned to you. she immediately put the blame on you. blaming you for not watching belly and letting her get so messed up.

you tried defending yourself, but it was no use. she always expected you to watch over belly and jeremiah seeing as you were right under conrad and your sister.

she did this a lot. comparing you to your sister. your sister stayed with the adults whenever you guys went to the beach, so to your mom, it was automatically your fault. she yelled at you saying how if your sister were there, none of this would’ve happened.

she didn’t even let you get a word out before she stormed into the house slamming the door behind her.

that was how you ended up sitting by the water with tears streaming down your face.

unbeknownst to you, conrad had been looking for you for hours. asking everyone where you could’ve been and no one actually having any answers. he called and texted you multiple times, but got no response.

the last place he decided to check was the beach. he actually dreaded it seeing as there were gonna be multiple parties going on, but he did anyway. he had to make sure you were okay.

he had been walking the beach for almost thirty minutes when his eyes landed on a figure sitting by the water. he slowly approached you as he didn’t know if it was actually you.

“y/n ?” he asks. his heart drops when you turned toward him. “i’ve been looking all over for you. are you okay ?”

you look back toward the water as he sits beside you. “i’m fine.”

“y/n, you’re crying.” he says just as you wipe under your eyes, “what’s wrong ?”

it goes silent as you hesitate to answer. while on one hand you wanted to rant to conrad about what’s been going on with your mom and sister, you didn’t want to burden others with what you thought were petty sibling problems.

conrad watches you as he waits for you to speak up. he could tell by your facial expression that you were debating with yourself on whether or not you wanted to talk.

his eyes don’t leave you as you look up toward the water.

“my mom…” you pause. you sigh as you close your eyes, “it’s like i’m never good enough for her.”

conrad furrows his brows as you sniffle, “she’s always comparing me to my sister. anything i do, she does better. even today when belly tripped and fell into susannah, i was blamed for it when it had nothing to do with me.”

you didn’t know it, but conrad had gone through the same thing. his dad blaming him for not being responsible and stopping belly from drinking.

“but she would’ve stopped belly from drinking and the night would’ve went on fine.” you chuckle humorlessly, “i’m never good enough for her.”

it goes silent again as you take a deep breath. you hug your knees closer to your chest.

“if it means anything, i like you a lot more than i do her.” he says. you can’t help, but chuckle which brings a smile to his face, “i know it’s hard, but don’t listen to your mom. your sister isn’t all perfect like she thinks. no one is.”

“my mom thinks so.”

“i don’t.” he says shaking his head, “you’re amazing just as you are y/n/n.”

you look toward him to find his eyes already on you. as you look in eyes, you search for any sign of pity. it’s the look you usually get from others whenever they overhear your mom. but you couldn’t find any.

conrad was being genuine. which you never thought that he was anything but.

to you, no one ever truly cared or tried to understand how you felt. never feeling like you were doing enough for the people you loved. never feeling good enough.

but if anyone understood you, it was conrad.

“i get exactly how you feel. when you think you’re not good enough or when you feel like you should be doing more.” he nods, “trust me. i get it.”

your eyes search his face as he continues, “but you’re perfect to me. if your mom can’t see how amazing you are, then she doesn’t deserve to.”

your eyebrows pinch together as you take in what he says. a small smile takes over your features, “i thought you said no one was perfect ?”

he chuckles, “i did, but to me you are. you’re everything i think about when i think of perfect.”

your face softens as he looks at you. really looks at you.

“what does that mean, connie ?” you say softly

“exactly what i said.” he says, “you’re perfect.”

your heart skips as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. conrad has always been someone significant in your life. ever since you were kids when you would play in the pool and steven would swim around pretending to be a shark and conrad would come save you.

when you were kids and he taught you how to surf since jeremiah and steven would make fun of you for not knowing how.

when summer would roll around and conrad was the first person who would hug you whenever you got out of the car.

conrad was always there.

he notices you lost in thought even as you stare directly at him. so, he takes the chance sitting right in front of him.

you blink rapidly as you notice conrad coming closer. he’s slow enough incase you decide otherwise, but you knew you wouldn’t.

your eyelashes flutter closed as he finally places his lips on yours. the kiss is soft, but the butterflies erupting in your stomach couldn’t be denied. your heart beats in your ears as he pulls away.

his eyes on your lips as he doesn’t go far. you look in his eyes and notice how they’ve changed.

admiration swarm through them as the two of you take in each other’s comfort. but he notices how quickly your mood diminishes.

“what’s wrong ?”

“i don’t want to go back yet.” you mumble

he smiles, “we don’t have to. i’ll stay here with you as long as you want me to.”

conrad’s smile seemed to be infectious as you begin to smile. you nod softly as you stare back at him.

you two stayed out there for hours. watching the waves crash as the stars came out.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

hey hope ur having a great day!

could u possibly write an angst request with skz? (any member)

something along the lines of the reader having a terrible childhood and having to go through trauma and really dark days and maybe opening up to them about it?

ONLY IF UR COMFORTABLE PLZ

ig I'm asking for it is cause I'm not doing so well recently and just need to feel something lmao

hope that you're doing well, if not then a channie hug for u <33

Ready?

Warning: Angst, toxic relationship, Chan being mean.

Paring: OT8 x reader

Summary: shutting down the boys was easy but fighting her demons aka her dad was not

AN: someone requested something similar to this and I can’t seem to find the request so I just joined the two 🥺

Enjoy! 🩷

**

"Y/n? You okay?" Hyunjin asked her again trying to get her out of her trance.

"Yeah-yeah," her voice is caught in a crack. The hot feeling of tears starts to build up. "I'm fine, where are the rest of the boys?" She cleared her throat and put her bag down.

"They went to get some coffee, I told them I would wait here for you. Are you sure you're okay?" He asked one last time to be certain. He could sense her vibe was off but yet again it was Y/n. She was the most mysterious yet energetic person you would come across. Oh? And she's the youngest.

"Yes I'm fine Hyun, we should head for practice. We don't want to keep the boys waiting," she gave him another comforting smile before grabbing her bag once again and making their way to the JYP building.

The walk was quiet. Her thoughts were currently running haywire as she try to peace everything together but she knew today wasn't going to be a good day. The argument she had with her father still played in her head.

"So, what do you have in your schedules today?" Hyunjin interrupted her thoughts trying to ease the tension in the air.

"I just have dance practice with you guys then I get a break and you?"

"I have a photo shoot later after practice, kinda cliché themed." Y/n giggle at this. Hyunjin gave himself a pat on the back for making her laugh.

"Well, I hope stay don't make fun of you because that'll be more memes coming out,"

"Yeah, yeah, as long as I rock the outfit no one can bring me down," he flexed his biceps earring a gag sound from the manknae.

"Hyunjin that's gross," she rolled her eyes as they both entered the studio to find the boys stretching. They all said their hello's and started their practice off.

"Y/n get your head in the game," Leeknow scolded her. She had been messing up a lot today and now that they were halfway through, she hadn't gotten anything done causing the whole group to get lost.

"I'm trying okay?" She snapped back at him. Han's neck snapped in their direction as he looked at her in disbelief.

"Don't snap at him like that, his older than you," Han joined in the scolding. Y/n was tired and frustrated now. She couldn't deal with them hopping on her back.

"Okay whatever," she walked away from the both of them and sat on the floor by her bag trying to look for her water bottle. The boys were looking at her from a far trying to figure what was bothering her today.

"Hey Y/n?" I.N finally gave in and sat besides her to check in.

"Yes I.N?" She replied in her soft tone.

"You okay? You've been messing up all day-"

That was all she needed. That little push to throw her off the edge. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and she stood up still facing I.N. Her anger was at a 10 and she couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I'm fine okay?! What is wrong with all of you?! Don't you see I'm trying?! Can't you leave me alone for once?! Why does it seem like whatever I do is a problem-"

"Y/n. Out. Now." Chan's loud voice shook the room quite literally. She stormed off to stand outside by the door. Trying to keep her cool but she couldn't.

"Don't you see this is a waste of time? You're a girl! You won't survive in this industry!"

"But dad I- the boys got me. We're making it-"

"Those boys will soon leave you just like your mum did. You're pathetic and a waste of space. You don't even bring anything to the table!" Her father's voice was loud through the phone.

"Why won't you let me to what I want for once?" She begged.

"Because! I spent my whole life working my butt off to provide for you and now look at you? You've basically become a stripper"

"Dad don't say that-"

"Well it's the truth."

Her father's words echoed in her ears. She felt helpless. She felt useless. She felt disgusted by herself.

"What was that?" Chan storms out the room. He was angry. It was obvious.

"Nothing-"

"What is wrong with you? What's your problem? You've been so moody all day and whenever we ask you what's wrong cause we know damn well we didn't do anything wrong, you start acting bratty,"

"Chan I was just trying to-"

"No, I don't want to hear it. You will go in there and apologize. Understood?"

"Chan! You never listen to me. Your always taking their side," she snapped at him.

"I know damn well you aren't talking to me like that. I've given you time and time again to come talk to me but you crush it off and decide to be a bitch to everyone. So don't even say I don't listen to you-"

"I'm not being a bitch, I just want to be alone,"

"Okay then be alone. Stop bringing everyone down just cause you can't deal with you problems, you better go apologize to everyone and you can head home," the tears in her eyes started to fall once he left.

Maybe she indeed was the problem. Maybe she needed to learn a way to cope with her feelings. Maybe she just needed to shut up.

She slowly took steps back into the studio and everyone turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry if I snapped at any of you, I won't do it again," her sobs were heard. They were so painful to hear that even Chan was so close to stopping her and pulling her into a hug. He felt so bad but he knew he had to stand on business.

**

At first Chan thought that maybe her silent treatment would last a day or two but it dragged and it continued to drag till it was the 1 week stamp.

He grew worried because he wasn't not just talking to him but she wasn't talk at all. She would only say hello and then continue with her day. Not even taking to managers or staff.

She would just nod or say small thanks you's or goodbyes. It was almost like the fight he had with her shit her up completely and this was eating him up.

The stress of the VMA's performance coming up and having to deal with his members made everything 10x harder to cope with.

"She hasn't been eating," Changbin informs Chan who lets out a frustrated sigh. "Should I just talk to her? Maybe that'll fix things,"

"She's so mad, she won't talk to anyone. Even I.N," this caused Han and Changbin to gasp.

"They're like bestfriends, it's like they were never separated at birth. What do you mean he won't talk to her?" Han asked.

"He came to me in tears yesterday because he attempted to get her to talk but she shut him down immediately,"

"Then you're going to have to fix this Chan. She needs you even though she hasn't said it. Maybe it's something deeper than your fight,"

"I know that for certain Hyunjin but how can I talk to her when she keeps avoiding me and walking away,"

"Just go to the gardens," Felix suggested.

Chan hadn't thought about it and quickly gave a hug to Felix who he praised for a bit and run to the gardens.

There she was. Sat feeding ducklings. She had a soft smile on her face. Her cheekbones were becoming visible because of the lack of food and the stress of the shows coming up.

"Y/n?" He said while making his way to her. She remained still and quiet. Continuing to feed the ducks.

"Can we talk please?" Silence. "Look I'm sorry. I'm getting worried and you not being able to talk to me means that there's something deeper going on. Can you talk to me please? I'll shut up and listen."

"My dad," she sat up and looked over to him. Chan in disbelief after hearing her voice after so long. "My dad wants me to go back home,"

"What? What? He can't do that. We're a team. We're your family,"

"I never told you about him because of how toxic he is Chan, he won't leave me alone until I'm home. Where he can control me."

"But your legal and your on a contract-"

"He doesn't care Chan," she looked up at him. The tears in her eyes started to pour like rain. Chan's eyes soften as he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms.

"I won't let him take you. Over my dead body." Was all he said as she continued to sob.

"I'm so scared. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you Oppa,"

"Shhhh. It's okay my love. It's fine. You did now."

He continued to comfort her until she could calm down. A constant apology left her mouth. Chan didn't want an apology he just wanted to protect her and he knew the only way he could talk to her was if she had calmed down.

"Have you eaten?" He asked her knowing the answer. He just didn't want to make it seem like he was tracking her consumption.

"I'm not hungry," her face was squashed against his chest making the words come out a little muffled.

"You are. You've lost so much weight. Let's go buy you some ramen and we can talk okay? How does that sound?"

"That's okay Chan. I'm ready to talk."

[cursedonyx]

I read the post about students reacting to mc dying in their arms. You should do the professors (including Black)

Thank you for the ask! 💚

Hogwarts Legacy Professors React to MC Dying in Their Arms

Link to student reactions here

⚠️Content warning for Death and Body Horror Below the Cut⚠️

Professor Hecat

Dina Hecat had rarely found herself as impressed with a student as she was with you. Your tenacity, your aptitude for magic, your ability to pick up new and complex defensive magic was unmatched, though Sebastian made a valiant effort to maintain a solid second place behind you. Such was your prowess that Dina thought you might make an excellent Auror, and determined to tutor you privately once you expressed an interest. It was a thrill to begin with, to teach you all the tips and tricks an Auror might need in their arsenal, you picking them all up as if it was as easy as breathing, to the point that Dina grew complacent.

She’d heard tales of your exploits during your fifth year, of course, and fought beside you during the Battle for the Repository. She was confident that you could handle anything thrown at you, and you impressed her over and over and over. But all it took was one tiny misstep, one foot wrong, and all her Ministry training and the reason behind it was thrown into sharp relief.

The troll was supposed to be an easy dispatch. You’d defeated one when you were brand new to magic, after all. Dina had taught you an advanced form of confringo, or at least, she’d taught you the theory. It was a powerful spell, a short step below feindfyre, and she was eager to see it in practice. But the troll had flung its club just as you began the incantation, and everything went wrong. You were distracted as it flew towards Dina, and you lost control of the spell.

The resulting inferno was too much for mere aguamenti, and there was nothing Dina could do but wait for the flames to die down, listening to you scream as you blundered about in the middle of the fire, unable to find a way out. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of you was a charred skeleton, your clawed hand leaving sooty streaks on her skin as she took it, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare, some kind of illusion or hallucination, anything but brutal, cold reality.

There was an investigation, of course. Why was a seventh-year student out fighting trolls? Why was this student doing so under the instruction of a faculty member that should have known better? Why had this professor allowed things to get so out of control?

Dina avoided Azkaban for her neglect by a narrow margin, but she had to give up her teaching post. She passed a little over a year later, having drunk herself to death, unable to cope with the guilt.

Professor Ronen

Abraham Ronen had always had such a love of fun and games, determined to make each of his classes a joy for his students. Yes, he recycled ideas through the terms, a large timetable in his office holding large lists of games he could incorporate that was appropriate for each year of Charms classes. But even so, after several years in his position, he found these games began to grow repetitive, and he wanted to liven things up.

That’s where you came in. Your ingenuity was famous throughout Hogwarts for a reason, and so he called on you one day after class, requesting your assistance in thinking up new games to play. He gave you a list of the spells he was to teach his seventh-year students, promising to waive your homework for a month if you helped out. You took to the task like a kappa to water, assailing Abraham with a variety of ‘games’ that would help the other students learn. The problem was, most of your games involved far too much risk for his liking, including trying to steal a dragon egg. Despite your protestations that you knew where to find one, Abraham wasn’t having it. But he’d promised, and you’d promised, and a deal was a deal.

So extreme were your ideas that when you proposed the still dangerous but comparatively tame idea of delayed-action bombarda combined with glacius, Abraham thought the idea of students running through a booby-trapped field, freezing the latent explosive spells, was a positively marvellous idea.

The students were less keen. They, unexposed to your particular brand of fun, saw the folly in such a practice. But you, determined that everyone should have fun, decided to be the first across the field. Abraham realised far too late just how foolish this game was, and had barely raised his wand as you danced across the minefield before disaster struck, and you were blown apart.

He tried his best to gather the pieces of you that rained down. A severed foot here, a shattered forearm there, holding his robes like an apron and gathering you up. It was futile, of course, for once a witch or wizard’s head is detached from their body, even the very best healers only have a few seconds to make it right.

He could never get that image out of his mind. One moment you were smiling, laughing, joking, teasing the others for their hesitancy, and the next you were in bits, everything that you were tumbling from the sky in slow motion. Every student in that class was scarred for life, set to fail their Charms NEWTs, fifty promising careers suddenly thrown down the toilet. Abraham resigned in shame, and did not go home to his wife. He wandered until he became lost, and lost himself until he found a cliff. Only by shattering himself on the rocks below could he find some form of atonement for his sins.

Professor Sharp

Aesop Sharp had always preferred to be somewhat gruff and stern. It kept his pupils in line, and his firm but fair approach ensured that everyone that took his classes passed with good marks, even if they had a tendency to blow things up, a practice he’d secretly taken to calling “doing a Garreth.” You, on the other hand, slipped past his guard. Maybe it was your incredible aptitude for offensive and defensive magic, or perhaps it was your endearing wit and charm. It could have been your happy-go-lucky nature, your ability to smile no matter how dire things seemed to be, always poking fun at yourself before anyone else. He found himself growing fond of you, thinking of you as some kind of wayward nibling.

He still had to give you detentions on occasion, of course, because even you couldn’t cheek the Potions Master and get away with it, no matter how well-intentioned your words had been. He found such hours to be more of a delight than a chore, happy to talk to you about anything and everything, even laughing a little as you revealed some of the mischief you’d gotten up to, things he’d normally give more detentions for.

One evening in the dungeons, you were cheerfully scrubbing out the cauldrons, and you asked him about is days as an Auror. You told him about an Ashwinder camp you’d caught wind of, and how you wished you could eradicate them. Aesop knew he should report it to Officer Singer and keep you out of it, but hell, he’d seen you fight, and there was something in him that yearned for that spark of excitement that came with defeating his enemies. He suggested travelling with you to wipe them out, considering it worth at least three detentions. You joked that this meant you had two free passes to be cheeky in class, and he told you not to push your luck.

If only he’d known. If only he’d taken a moment to think. If only he’d listened to his Auror instincts that told him this was a bad idea.

You’d both crept up on the camp, wands at the ready. There weren’t many of them, but enough to pose a bit of a challenge. Aesop had every confidence in you, he knew your skills after all, but unfortunately, the Ashwinders did as well. The moment they saw you, they didn’t bother with their typical hexes. They knew enough about you to know they couldn’t waste a second if they wanted to live. Three Killing Curses were sent your way, and one found its mark.

Aesop thought he knew loss when his partner was killed in Scarborough, but this was something else. Watching the light go out of your eyes, the ghost of your last, confident smile on your face, broke him like nothing had broken him before. He didn’t even try to resist when the Ashwinders took him, snatching his wand and throwing him in a cage along with the kneazles they’d poached. He couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind, your still body lying amid the debris of the Forbidden Forest, already ignored and forgotten by your foes, left for whatever scavengers crept through the night to feast. He refused food and water as he was dragged from one end of the country to the other, kept prisoner by those that had killed you. It took weeks to kill him, but one morning, lying on the floor of that cold, hard cage, he just didn’t wake up.

Professor Black

Phineus Nigellus Black preferred to let the students of Hogwarts think he was a cold-hearted, pompous bastard. It was much easier to work this way, easier to make the tough decisions a Headmaster of Hogwarts needed to make. Budget cuts, cancelling quidditch, extending exam season and banning Hogsmeade visits to ensure student safety was easier to weather if his heart was already hardened to the complaints and cries of woe, the bitter mutters, the whispered insults, the playground songs made up to poke fun at him. Yes, it hurt, but he was better than that. Stronger. Prouder. He had a job to do, after all, and Merlin only knew the previous Headmaster had left a hellish mess for him to set right. He had to be hard to be kind. He preferred not to pay attention to those around him, erecting a hard wall around his heart.

You, however… you were different. He heard about what you did in your fifth year, and though he found it hard to believe at first, he paid a bit more attention to you as time went by, and found the tales of your prowess were, if anything, undersold. Phineas made an effort in your final year to take you under his wing, seeing a potential candidate for the position of Minister for Magic in your future. He wanted to teach you the finer points of politics and bootlicking, introduce you to the right people, like the Gaunts, the Blacks, the Malfoys and more to give you the boost you needed to clamber up that slippery ladder. The only gifts he knew how to give.

You were resistant, of course. What kind of firecracker would you be if you weren’t? Phineas relished the challenge, demanding more and more of your free time until you began to understand just what kind of privileges came along with knowing the right people and scratching the right backs. Ominis knew it and used it to his advantage perhaps less than he should have done, but this seemed to tip the scales in Phineas' favour, and you finally began to listen and learn from his wise tutelage. He found himself swelling with pride as you whipped about your newfound allegiances, terrifying students and teachers alike, reining you in when you frightened Hobhouse so much he wet himself, his scolding gentle and warm. He might have had five children, but you showed promise.

Unfortunately, even the shrewd and clever Phineas couldn’t have foreseen the simple dangers of existing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He’d taken you to the trophy room, waxing lyrical about the famous witches and wizards that had come through Hogwarts, pointing out their accolades with relish, his hand on your shoulder, a rare and affectionate gesture of genuine pride. He told you that you could achieve just as much, perhaps more, if you applied all your skills and knowledge in the right ways. He even smiled at you, and his eyes were warm.

You asked to see a particularly bright medal on a high shelf, and Phineas, taking a leaf out of your muggleborn book, decided to give the other life a try, just for once. If a muggleborn could be as impressive as you, perhaps he didn’t have to use magic for everything. He tried to reach the medal by hand, even climbing on the shelf to do so, smiling as it made you laugh. He climbed down, medal in hands, his brow furrowing as your face grew ashen. The next moment, you had barrelled into him, throwing him out of the way of the falling shelf.

By the time he picked himself up, scolding you for your behaviour, it was too late. The falling shelves and shattered glass had crushed you, slashing your neck. By the time Phineas realised you weren’t just pratting about like you usually did, you’d bled out, your skin pale, your eyes wide and unseeing. Phineas sat on the floor beside your corpse, holding your fingers closed over the medal that read:

Most Impressive Display of Honour.

Professor Garlick

Mirabel Garlick had endured her share of enamoured students, villagers, and even fellow professors in her time. She dealt with it all with the grace and decorum that was expected of such a sunny personality, treating all and sundry with the same level of ardent attention and big, bright smiles. She had a soft spot for you though, someone who appreciated magical plants for the marvels they were. She didn’t mind when you stayed after class to quiz her on the less known properties of pufferpods or the right way to tamp down earth around a mandrake to ensure maximum comfort. She’d heard all about your little adventure to see the giant venomous tentacula, and had been curious about your knowledge ever since.

She was more than happy to help you grow your plants bigger and better than what the school board advised. She even cleared out Greenhouse Four for your personal use, encouraging you to grow things most students would only ever see if they were extremely unlucky. But she trusted you. She believed you knew what you were doing, swept up by your enthusiasm, tempted by her own curiosity to see just how far you could push your skills.

So it was that the pair of you ended up breeding a new kind of Devil’s Snare, one that was resistant to light and heat. It took time, and though you both occasionally wondered what the purpose of such a plant would be, you were too excited by the prospect of your experiments bearing fruit to worry about consequences. Mirabel should have known better. The only defence against a Devil’s Snare is light and heat, and both of you pushed away thoughts of protection against such a thing. It seemed playful, intelligent, happy.

It was early on a Saturday morning when Mirabel decided to look in on Greenhouse Four. It was only by chance that she had decided to do so, and she would spend the rest of her life wishing she had been five minutes sooner. She saw the Devil’s snare distract you with dancing tendrils as it had so many times before, only this time, you were too close. It wrapped you up faster than a spider wraps a fly, crushing the life from you. No matter how many incendios she cast, no matter how much she shouted and beat at it, even conjuring a torch to hold against the vines, all it did was hurt you more as it crushed the life from you, each snap of your ribs loud above your gasping breaths, the crunch of your spine grinding in her ears, the blood from your nose splattering on the floor as your lungs punctured, your eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even still you fought to draw breath until there was no more room in your chest.

Mirabel had never felt so helpless. She sank to her knees, waiting as the Devil’s Snare took you into its core to feed upon your corpse. She didn’t resist when the vines caressed her face, then wrapped around her throat, her wand lying forgotten on the floor of Greenhouse Four.

Professor Fig

Eleazar Fig had always had a soft spot for you. He’d watched you grow from a novice to a master in the space of a year, popular and clever, beloved by your peers and professors alike. He always made sure to make time for you in his office, sharing a cup of tea as you discussed your past adventures, gossiped about the students, or just had a jolly good chinwag. You both shared a love of adventure, and made time at least once a month to get up to mischief, whether it was investigating old ruins, clearing out mongrel dens, or just running the occasional errand for those in need. You delighted in having your mentor along for the ride, and he adored helping you where he could.

Unfortunately for you, your exploits over the years made you enemies. Though you helped a good many people and made plenty of friends, there were those that were hard done by when you stole from them or caused them trouble on behalf of someone else. Eleazar knew this, and made sure to continually warn you to watch your back, clucking like a mother hen. Perhaps he warned you too much, his words of caution becoming background noise as you continually avoided retribution for your misdeeds. Eleazar did his best to keep you safe all the same, ardently researching your enemies and eliminating plots before they came to fruition.

But after almost a year of no schemes against you, he dared to relax. He invited you out to lunch at Steepley and Sons, intending to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, some nice sandwiches, and perhaps even a slice of cake, his treat, of course. He wanted to catch up properly, to make sure you were happy, on top of your homework, getting on with your friends. You wanted to know how he was coping after Miriam’s passing, if he was back on the scene, how his work as a teacher was going, and can he please get you out of detention with Professor Sharp?

Neither of you expected after all this time there were still those that held a grudge. The young wizard helping Mrs Steepley was actually an Ashwinder, and they poisoned your cup of tea. It took a moment to take effect, but once it did, the only way to save you was locked away in Hogwarts Castle. Even accio couldn’t have got the antidote to you in time.

Eleazar watched as your face went ashen, seemingly sinking in on itself as you clawed at your throat. He caught you as you listed sideways, his eyes locked on yours, trying to comfort you, soothe you as you struggled to draw breath, not even a pin able to pass through the tightness of your throat. Your nails left bloody furrows on your neck, your feet kicking feebly even as someone ran for J Pippin’s, hoping he’d be able to help. Eleazar knew better. He just held you as your body jerked, the last of your life sliding through his fingers as he tried oh so hard to hold on to it, begging you silently to just hold on a little longer. You were all he had, the last spark of joy in his cold, dark life. Once you were gone, there was nothing left for him. A swift unforgivable curse delivered to his temple as he lay in his chamber was enough to ensure he could see you and Miriam again.

witchdoctorpirate ~💚

[tamiart]

I wrote a little romance scene between Halsin and Tav, mostly imagining Halsin’s POV.

Summary: Tav is breaking down under the pressure of the enormous task ahead of her, and Halsin happens upon her.

Since I don’t consider myself a writer, I have never tried to write anything like this before. But I love this game so much, and especially when it comes to these two characters, my imagination is continuously running away with me. I need more material with them, so I tried to create some of my own. I hope you like it.

Midnight Solace

Everyone was finishing up their duties in setting up camp. Halsin looked over to see Tav talking to Wyll and Gale, who were arguing about something as they tried to come up with a strategy for some fight or other, which was now an almost daily occurrence. Tav looked worn out, barely listening to the two of them bicker as she studied a map they had drawn in the dirt. The others were always going to her for help with their problems, and by Silvanus did everyone in this group have catastrophic problems. In all his many years, Halsin had never met such a varied, volatile bunch of individuals. They reminded him of his younger years when every mishap, every mistake, felt like the end of the world.

Tav was the most intriguing to him. She couldn’t be half his age, and yet this young, unassuming slip of a girl had gone out of her way, putting aside her own troubles and fears, which must be plentiful though she never voiced them, for weeks throughout their perilous journey to help many along the way, including himself. She was helping him find a way to lift the shadow curse, which had haunted him for a century as his greatest shame and failure. She had risked her life to infiltrate a horde of nasty, treacherous little goblins to free him - a huge, threatening wild bear that could have tried to kill her too for all she knew. But even in his most savage form, she wasn’t afraid of him. 

Halsin had never met anyone like her. He often found himself watching her from across camp as she went about the daily routine that everyone had settled into - helping to prepare their meals, eating, talking and laughing with everyone around the fire, getting ready to go to sleep, preparing to head out in the mornings. He wondered about her as he performed his own duties. He felt himself drawn to her, and realized he was reluctant to leave her side. He was sorely tempted to forsake his druidic duties and stay with her, to be there for her and protect her for as long as she would let him during her quest to save them all. She stirred long-dormant feelings in him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way about anyone.

Later that night, after everyone had sought their bedrolls, rest seemed to elude Halsin, so he gave up and headed towards the woods to lose himself in a hunt. As he walked past Tav’s bedroll, he noticed she wasn’t there. He looked around briefly, but did not see her. Slightly alarmed, he enhanced his senses and picked up her scent trail heading into the forest. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he followed it.

As he approached the stream nearby, he heard the sound of someone crying. He stopped and peered through the trees in that direction and saw that it was Tav, sitting by the water, her head resting on her bent knees. He felt a sympathetic pang to see and hear her so distraught. Not wanting to frighten her, he made his footsteps audible as he rounded a bush and approached her, and she started up and noticed him, and immediately turned away to surreptitiously wipe away the traces of her misery. He felt his heart stir.

“Oh, Halsin,” she said, “what are you doing out here so late?”

“I could not sleep,” he responded, “so I was going for a walk. I could ask you the same thing. Are you alright, my friend?”

At that, she failed at reigning in her emotions and burst into sobs once more.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered through her tears. “I don’t know what’s come over me tonight.”

He hurried over and sat beside her. “It’s alright,” he tried to reassure her. But she could not stop, and he hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

His touch seemed to relax something in her and she leaned towards him. He put his arm around her and held her closer. The feel of her sobs shaking her slight frame melted away his final resistance, and he knew then that he would do anything to help this girl. He was lost to her. He held her until her sobs quieted into sniffles. 

“What is it, my friend? Can I do anything to help?” He asked her gently.

“No, I’ll be okay.” She sighed.”Ugh look at me, I’m such a mess.”

“You are still beautiful. But stay here, I’ll get something for you.” Halsin quietly returned to his tent and found a clean cloth, poured a cup of water and grabbed a blanket as well, then returned to Tav’s side. She had calmed down and sat quietly staring into the stream with a troubled expression on her face. He draped the blanket around her shoulders and handed her the water and cloth.

 “Thank you. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this,” said Tav, wiping her tear-stained face. “They’re all depending on me to be strong. I need to be strong for all of us if we’re going to get through this.” She took a sip of water and put the cup down on a rock.

He placed his arm around her again and pulled her close. “No one expects you to be invincible. You don’t need to carry all of it alone. We’re all here to help you. I’m here to help you.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyelashes. The distance between them was too close. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, and it took all of his will to resist. She needed him to be strong just now, and he would give her his support.

“Thanks, Halsin,” She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear. I just… I’m so afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time. Why does every decision have to fall to me? Every time one of us gets injured, I wonder if I should give it all up. Maybe I’m just leading us all to our deaths.” Her voice choked on those last words, and she covered her face with her hands and pulled away from him. “I can’t… that thought… it’s too much to bear.”

“Your fears are completely understandable under the circumstances. We have far too much leveled against us, with no end to our journey in sight. What an incredible amount of pressure to undertake. But Tav, you’ve been amazing thus far. Why do you think everyone trusts you so implicitly? No one else could have gotten this eccentric group of misfits this far, to survive as much as we have. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it. You don’t realize how extraordinary you truly are. My dear friend, we would all follow you anywhere. I would follow you anywhere. If anyone is going to get us all through this, it’s you.” 

Tav looked up at him again, a new light and curiosity in her glance. “You truly believe that?”

“With all my heart.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Oak father preserve him, Tav had him wrapped around her finger. “Thanks, Halsin,” she whispered into him. She looked up at him again, and her face finally softened into a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Tav, I - “ he tried to find the right words. “Please know that I’m always here for you, if you ever need to talk about anything. I will do my best to help you, in any way that you need.”

She was still looking up at him, her gaze searching. She was so beautiful, he could hold back no longer. Cautiously, he lowered his face down towards her, watching her expression as he did so. She did not pull away, and her lips parted as her glance fell to his mouth. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the salt of her tears as he kissed her, and she kissed him back, tentatively at first, but quickly growing more eager. Her lips were full, soft and warm. Finally they both had to pull away, gasping for air. He had to stop now before he took things too far. He couldn’t ask that much of her just now in her current vulnerable state.

Tav stared at him, stunned. Then as if suddenly realizing where she was, she blushed and gave him a shy, tentative smile. “Wow,” She gasped as she found her voice. “What was that?”

“I’ve dreamed about kissing you for a long time,” he confessed to her.

“Really? But I didn’t… I thought… you’ve never…” Tav stammered.

“I know. I didn’t want to do anything to upset you or harm our friendship. And I didn’t want to distract you during such a crucial and difficult time. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, to let you focus.”

Tave let out a breathy laugh. “Well, it’s a very welcome distraction.” She hesitated, then looked up at him shyly once more. “I’ve been thinking about that as well, with you.”

He wrapped her in his arms once more and held her in silence. They sat together, listening to the night sounds of the forest and the babble of the nearby stream. Gradually, he felt her relax in his arms. Her head began to droop against his shoulder. He could have stayed this way all night. But reluctantly, he gently shook her awake.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he told her. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” She stood up and handed the blanket back to him. She tried to return the cloth as well, but he told her to keep it. She seemed reluctant to go. “Thank you, Halsin. This was… it means a lot.” She smiled at him once more.

And she was gone before he could respond, leaving him alone once more in the woods, the blanket in his arms, all of his senses full of her, and his mind a whirl of thoughts, emotions and desires.