#alexei fanfic

[julezo]

i feel like no one’s making crazy shit in fanfiction that isn’t weird smut. stay with me here ok i don’t mean that the quality of existing ff is poor bc it’s not. my issues that the existing stuff is v tropey. “mafia au” “coffee shop au” “royal au” yeah maybe but we can do better than that. each of those has a cooler version that i don’t see at all.

examples:

1. batfam au where the batfam = the Romanovs right b4 the russian revolution (there were five girls and 1 boy irl, but flip it to make the robins and steph or cass? idk who the queen would be)

2. instead of a “harry potter goes to 1942 and fucks tmr’s shit up”, send both those suckers to the fucking roman empire. could make them friends, mortal enemies, incredibly reliant on one another.. or lovers WHO SAID THAT

3. lawlight wherein L is one presidential candidate and light is the other. they break many laws and end up either both losing or with one as the other’s veep. (or they were both vying for their mutual party’s nomination, one got it, the other’s the veep, watch the US burn)

4. hannibal au where it’s the aztec empire and Will is going to be a human sacrifice to Hannibal (who’s a god here). idk how to do this with proper grace to the culture but i’m sure it could be done

so yeah

ANYways the point is that coffee shops are cool but bland. i love lattes and “can i take your order” but jfc Live a little

[voxmortuus]

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || I would love to request a hc for him in a honeymoon with fem!reader, like pure and utter fluff and romance 🔥💘 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Passionate Sex | Unprotected P-i-V | Cream pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was a beautiful ceremony, everyone who was anyone was there, but now, it was just time for you and your beloved to be alone. To learn and explore each other. To enjoy the company of the one you will be spending the rest of your life with. Today, it was a beautiful day. The air was warm, but not overly hot, there were large fluffy clouds in the crystal blue sky, and the sun was shining bright. Alexei had decided he was going to take you to a private place, a place where no one was going to bother you. A small little country house just outside of town. Well, today Alexei had plans. These plans were special, and you weren't allowed to know these plans. He had vanished outside leaving you to ponder on your thoughts.

You were sitting in the kitchen, you sip on a cup of tea. Your thoughts were simple, yet nothing overly complex, what would your life be like? He had no issue getting your attention, you found him alluring, attractive, intelligent, suave, and charming, and you found him to be a wonderful conversationalist. Sitting there, your mind drifts in a wonderful daydream of how your life will all work out, what will it become? Jumping a moment when he comes back to the house, you look up at him and smile. Reaching for your hand he kisses it softly and looks over your face.

"I have a beautiful day planned. Shall we?" He asked.

Nodding you were eager. You watched him grab the picnic basket on the outside of the door as you headed toward the docking out back of the home. You look at him and tilt your head.

"You really did plan today out? It really is a beautiful day for something like this." You stated softly looking up toward the sky as you got closer to the private dock.

When you both approached it, he stepped into the small boat, placed the basket down, and held his hand up to help you in, to make sure you were getting into the boat safely. The boat swayed and you got a little nervous, but you knew you were safe. Once you had settled looking around, you smiled sweetly, this was going to be an absolutely beautiful day. Placing your hands in your lap you look over his features as he untied the small boat and pushed it away from the dock.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You nod eagerly and bite your lip, curious as to where he was taking you. This waterway was large, trees draped over it with beautiful pink and white flowers, vibrant green leaves, and swans, everywhere, it was beyond breathtaking. As he rowed the boat, it moved gracefully in the water, the sounds of nature all around you. You can't help but smile.

"This is beyond beautiful." You smile softly.

"Nothing short of the best for you. Would you like to feed them?" He asked.

"Can I?" You ask eagerly.

He reaches into the basket and hands you a bag of bread pieces. "Here love."

Taking the bag you look inside upon opening the bag. You smile wide before tossing some out into the water. The fish below and the swans above move to get what you had tossed. A soft giggle escapes you as you watch them. Turning back to your new husband you smile softly.

"This is absolutely beautiful. I cannot express this enough." you search his face.

Leaning forward he kisses you softly, running a thumb across your lower lip. "You're absolutely beautiful." He smiles.

Flushing softly you glance down before looking back up at him and searching his face. Licking your lips you tilted your head softly. You feel this warm feeling, this warmth of the sun shining through the branches of the trees. It really was out of some sort of fairytale.

"What other plans do you have today?" You asked him.

"Well, how about I go show you." He smiles taking the oars and carefully working his way through the water to the other side of the large lake. You look over him and wonder when he had the time to do this, but he was up far earlier than you were. You smile softly and continue to look around at everything as he works his way through the water and you continue to feed the fish and birds with the crumbles of bread.

When he gets to the other side he moves past you to get out and pull the boat to the shore and helps you out. Looking around it was a meadow-like opening. There were no trails toward the location he was taking you, a small path from the shore to this small opening that was surrounded by flowers of the season, birds chirping, and a soft subtle breeze. It was beautiful, just like everything else. It was a lot to take in but at the same time, it wasn't.

He opens a blanket he pulls from the basket, and paces it on the earth's floor. He looks up to you and holds out his hand for you to take. Biting your lip softly you chuckle and nod joining him on the blanket. Leaning against him you look out on nature and smile. It truly was a vision of your dreams.

He wraps his arms around you and leans in and kisses your neck. "You smell delicious. Is that a new perfume?" he asks you.

"It is. I'm surprised you noticed." You chuckle softly.

"Of course I noticed. I also noticed you are not wearing anything under your dress." He smiled softly.

"Oh, is that so?" You chuckle.

"That is very much so." He smiled as he reaches down and hikes your dress up a bit.

"Are you wanting to do that here?" You ask him.

"Well, why not? There's no one else here, just us… What do you say Mrs. Vronsky?" He smiles looking down at you.

"Well, when you put it that way." You chuckle and turn to look at him you put your arms around him as he moves to have you straddling his lap.

"Oh, you like hearing Mrs. Vronsky don't you?" He chuckles.

Nodding your head you smile and lean in and kiss him sweetly and deeply. He keeps you close as he moves his hands up your back and presses you close to him as he moves to nip at your neck as his lips trail down and he moves to open your dress a bit more so he can kiss your chest. Now and then his gaze looks up as he watches you carefully. Your jaw slacks a bit, feeling his lips on your flesh like that is utterly intoxicating. You bite your lip and let out a soft whimper, your body trembles softly. This feeling made your body feel warm and even a little dewy between the legs.

He grips at you, his hands moving under your dress and sliding it up to move it off of your frame placing it next to you both, your nimble fingers move to undo the buttons of his shirt and slide it off him and place it by your dress. Looking over him you smile, your fingers move against his chest before you move your hands to the back of his neck and slide your hands up into his hair, as he leans into your hands and nails a bit as they scrape against his scalp you move your hips ever so slightly. He looks over at you and smiles.

"I want to be inside you." He whispers against your lips as he kisses you deeply.

"Then be inside me." You whisper back.

Feeling him free himself as his hard flesh presses against the front of you, he rubs the tip of his cock against your opening before he lowers you onto him. You drop your head to rest against this shoulder and let out a soft moan.

"Oh, Alexei." You whimper.

His jaw clenches a moment as you wrap your slick velvet-like walls around his sensitive flesh. Growling a moment as he buries his face into your neck.

"You feel so good.." He tells you.

"You feel good." You state back as he helps guide you over his hard member.

You begin to moan a little more feeling him fill you, feeling yourself stretch around his hard cock as you glide along him. Your head moves to hang back as your hands press into his shoulders as you bounce at a steady pace. His hands wander your form, feeling your flesh under his grip, it was soft, it was moldable. He watched your face, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He looked down at you as you pressed yourself down on him. He liked watching the way it looked, how you took all of him like you were made for him.

Moving you to your back, he looked down at you, your hair fanning out as he leaned forward and began to thrust at a quicker pace, the sounds of you both echoed and rolled off the flower petals. He pressed deeper into you, causing you to moan louder, causing you to grip at his sides, your nails dragging across his back, leaving little red welts of love across his flesh.

Dipping down he captured your lips against his, as he moved to grab your hands enterlacing your fingers with his as he moves them above your head, with each thrust you both move against each other, and your moans pass your lips and dance across his. Your tongue finds his as it dances an intimate dance with his, your moans still escaping into him as he thrusts faster into you, but with each thrust, it is soft, with care, with a tenderness of the moment.

He moves from you, kneeling, watching the way he slips in and out of you, watching the way you coat him with a shiny coating of your juices coating his cock, you moan softly your back arches, your flesh against the contrast of the earth was beautiful, it was something he was going to have a forever memory about.

Lifting your hips to his own he growled softly as he continued to thrust picking up the pace as you roll your hips, your breathing picks up hearing his growls, you aren't able to contain yourself. Gripping at the grass above your head and your body bounces with each thrust he gives. Your moans are mere screams. From the grass to your breasts as he thrusts harder coming to a finish for you both he looks down at you and searches you.

"Finish with me." He states.

"Then don't stop… I am so close." You state.

"Of course not, Love." He smirks as he picks up his pace a little more.

His thumb finds your swollen sensitive bud and he begins to rub it the feeling causes you to scream in pure euphoria and tremble as you were not able to control yourself. Your legs are trembling and your walls begin to spasm against him as if milking him for his seed. He growls and moans loudly as he presses himself deep within you and he buries himself and ribbons of hot finish coat your walls.

After a few more twitches of his member, he looks down at you and smiles softly as he slowly pulls from you and moves to lay by your side. He tucks some hair behind your ear and smiles.

"Now, Mrs. Vronsky, you do know that this is likely to happen often on our honeymoon correct?" He chuckles.

Breathily you look at him. "I sure hope so. Mr. Vronsky."

He just stays there, admiring you, reaching into the basket to feed you grapes, admiring your body, you were absolutely beautiful to him, he couldn't stop staring at you. He didn't want to. Ever. Forever his. Forever yours.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader

Summary: Your marriage with Alexei is new and wonderful. However, this means your body has changed since you'd first met him and one evening the sudden realization overwhelms you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort, kinda burb

Warnings: insecurities from weight gain, maybe shitty russian translation (pls tell me and i'll fix the problem!)

~ anon who sent this in today, i love you sm ✨🤍 ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

As Alexei waits for you in the parlor, his knee is now bouncing as he becomes more and more anxious as time passes and you still don't show up.

It wasn't until your maids hurry from the bedroom, sending him an alarmed look, that his worry spikes enough to warrant him checking in on you. He stands up, his hands elegantly held behind him.

He makes his way to your newly shared bedroom, his knuckles rasping against the door. "Y/n? Darling, It's me," his voice is calm and your name sounds like honey on his lips. "May I come inside?"

A tense silence falls upon him as you don't answer for a moment. 

"N-no," you whisper, your voice barely audible, "Please. Leave without me," you sound so sad and his heart breaks.

"Leave without my new, gorgeous  wife? Nonsense, Моя любовь (my love), who would I show off?" he teases, his tone light and airy as he leans his palm flat on the door.

You'd only been married a month now and Alexei still took pride in parading you around on his arm, showing off his devotion to you and proclaiming his love to anyone who listened. You were Mrs. Count Vronsky now and he'd be damned if not everyone at these tedious social events knew the wonderful news. 

You don't answer or let him in so his worry increases. He shakes his head and opens the door, luckily finding it unlocked. Once Alexei steps inside, he's met with piles of dresses of various colors and styles on the floor.

Hair accessories and jewelry are scattered messily across your vanity and you're sat in the middle of the mess as tears fall silently down your cheeks. He is quick to kneel in front of you, his large hand pressed on your knee (which is hidden under the amount of dresses you'd tried on) and he looks you up and down. 

You're still dressed in your undergarments, your corset bound so harshly he's afraid you can't breathe anymore. "Oh, my darling," he whispers and strides over to stand behind you, careful not to walk on any of the dresses, and he kneels again, nimbly undoing your corset. He relaxes when he sees your shoulders relax. He rubs them, his touch gentle, "В чем дело, любовь моя. (What's the matter, my love?)"

Alexei leans his forehead on your shoulder, his blond curls tickling your neck as he tilts his head and presses a kiss to your neck. "Talk to me. You're upset. How can I make it better?"

He feels you shift and he pets your hair, waiting patiently for you to tell him what's wrong. 

"You can't make it better, Alexei," you whisper and grip your hand in some of the dresses, resisting the urge to rip them apart and never look at them again. 

Your husband chuckles deeply and shakes his head. "Unless someone died, I can make it better."

You turn to him, bringing your knees down as you show him all the dresses. Your eyes are wide and teary. "Alexei, they don't fit me anymore! They're too tight and can't breathe in them. I look stupid and no matter how much I tighten my corset—it's no use. I cannot go out into society anymore—I have nothing presentable to wear!"

Alexei's arms wrap around you instantly when he senses how distressed you are.

He shushes you, pressing your body into his chest as he holds you. "Darling, don't cry on me like this. Not because of silly dresses," he kisses your temple and his hand finds your waist and stomach, loosening the corset even more. You panic and hold his hand, trying to push him away from you. 

"Моя любовь (My love)," Alexei holds your hand in his instead, reprimanding you softly, "you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful."

You look at him, eyes still watery. "But–"

Alexei shakes his head. "No. You're beautiful now and forever. We can buy you new dresses as soon as you want them. That's not a problem, dove. In the meantime, you must have some less fancy dress you can wear around the house. Hm," his eyes light up with realization, "why don't we go riding? You do like riding? I can ask the maids to pack us a picnic and we can catch the sunset if we hurry."

You look at him, taking in his adoration and his suggestion as you mumble, "You don't mind that we don't go to Lady Kozlov's dinner?"

"And listen to her husband's insistent rambling about his countless affairs? I'd much rather ride with you—and spend some time with Frou-Frou," he adds with a smile and nuzzles into your neck, catching your lips in his.

You reward the gesture with a giggle and push some blond curls away from his striking blue eyes. "You and that horse," you whisper, kissing his lips again as your worries fade into nothing. 

Alexei laughs and continues to caress your hair. "I love you, my darling, so so much. You know what I think? I think this is a good thing," he caresses your stomach, "It means you're comfortable and you're feeling my love and adoration. I'm treating you well. My beautiful wife," he kisses your lips and looks into your eyes. "You are happy, aren't you?"

You nod. "I am very happy, Alexei."

He hums, feeling like he'd just won something much more valuable than any race. Smiling, he kisses your neck and holds you closer to him.

"Good. That's all that matters. That you're healthy and happy," he says with such determination you have no choice but to believe him.

[etherealily]

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​ // 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘪 𝘷𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘺

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader

Warnings : Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

'Cross that line for me, sweetheart?'

Desc. : You are not a temptress, but he is tempted.

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

It was curious, to say the least, how land was divided. The conch next to you was half your property and half the Vronsky estate's property. It had remained that way for ages.

The waves lapped up the sand, like a heart reaching desperately for its other half as you sat watching the entire ordeal.

The Line - one drawn up every morning and marked by tiny flags as placeholders - had always pissed you off. Intrigued you. What would happen if you were to... just a finger? The hem of your dress. Would you immediately be shot at by concealed snipers? Perhaps you'd have to be tried in court.

You had never really noticed much about this Vronsky character before. Another handsome, manipulative bastard. Nothing much.

In turn, he'd also never noticed you. A face. One of many. Beautiful, of course, he was not blind, but never seen as worthy of his efforts. You were not rebellious. You were not adorably innocent. He could not entice you. He could not corrupt you.

In theory, your paths were never to cross. Different lives, same circles.

The key word : theory.

Because there are moments in life when you know that nothing will ever be the same again, when you know that your proverbial pathway is forever skewed and rerouted. These may appear to you embossed in calamities such as loss and grief, or these may be whispered in your ear by silent smiles, lovestruck looks across a ballroom, or the simple offer of champagne.

Or, in the case of you and Alexei Vronsky, all of the above.

And this was one of those torturous, life-altering moments.

"-And that's when I said, it was just a bloody goat !"

Booming, drunken laughter ensued from your left - the other side of the Line. Fuck. Keep drawing, shut up, keep drawing, shut up.

Your pencil made unintelligible sounds as it scratched out a somewhat passable depiction of the moonlit waves. The screams and guffaws grew louder, but the issue was that if you moved, he'd assume you did it because you were on his side. You were not, but it would look highly suspicious if you fled.

No. They'd quietened down. Meaning either they left - highly unlikely - or, they'd noticed you.

"Oi!"

Don't respond, don't respond.

"You! Pretty girl!"

Drunk men are terrifying. How could such kind words be said in a way that made your skin crawl?

"Mate, maybe she's a mute. Or deaf. Or both."

"I know for a fact she's not. She's got quite a mouth on her, as I can remember from last year- HEY! LADY WITH THE SKETCHBOOK!"

And that was Alexei Vronsky. His story with the goat had ended, apparently. Ugh.

You turned. "Uh, hello."

"ARE YOU A MUTE?" his companion yelled.

"Are you daft? She just answered! How could she be mute?"

Drunk men are also idiotic.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER HERE, WE'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DRAW?"

Bellowing laughter followed.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm alright, THANKS!"

"OI, C'MON! WE DON'T BITE!"

From what you'd heard, he does.

"IS IT 'CAUSE OF THAT LINE?"

"Good night, Count Vronsky.", you called back, as you gathered up your things and stood, dusting the sand off your dress.

"HOLD ON! WAIT!"

"Let'r go, mate, c'mon, we've got a party to get back to."

"I WAS JUST BEING NEIGHBOURLY, YOU BITCH!"

FUCKING HELL.

"What did you just call me?!", you yelled, turning. He looked back at you in a swaying, inebriated haze, trying to focus those glaciers he called eyes on yours in the darkness.

"A witch. You've cast a spell on me, bewitched me, so to speak. You're magic."

Ugh. "Whatever."

"Just come over here, or I'll have to come there, and you wouldn't like that.", he slurred, his friends chortling and egging him on.

Buggering Christ.

"You can't. See?", you replied defiantly, pointing deliberately at the faint white outline of the line they renewed every morning with chalk powder. "That would be trespassing."

"I'm Alexei Vronsky."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So? It's still trespassing. My family's had it in for you for a long time - we'll take you to court."

"Then you come here.", he shrugged, taking an unstable stumble closer. "Cross that line for me, sweetheart? Yeah?"

"You're a creep. And you're drunk."

"You're a beauty. And you're technically trespassing, so I need to punish you."

"HOW am I-"

"Your pencil." Fuck. How is it he's sober enough to notice that, but not sober enough to know that his buddy said 'the coat storage' not 'the goat story'?

"It blew in the wind."

"Yes. To my estate."

"You can keep it."

"Are you sure? Isn't this your, uh, fabulous pencil from Paris you were talking of?"

"No." Yes.

"No?", he frowned, picking it up. NO! Not in his grimy, disgustingly delicate fingers. "Seems pretty French to me."

"Are you actually inebriated or do you simply enjoy pretending to be so that you can get away with things?"

He stopped swaying, pointing the pencil in your direction as he placed the other hand behind his back. "You're sharp."

"So you're sober?"

Drunk Vronsky could have been molded. Sober Vronsky was a cunt.

"More or less. My friends feel left out because they are unable to hold their liquor as well as I can, so I act for them.", he explained, with a small look behind him, at his comrades trying to jump over the waves as they came.

"You should be in theatre, then."

"Adding performer to my resume is just a smidge too over-accomplished.", he retorted, an amused glint in his eye.

Ugh.

"So you're going to hold on to my pencil, then, I'm guessing."

"What? No, I know how much this means to you."

Trap. You'd bet your entire estate it was a trap.

"I will give it back.", he continued as he paced, his hand still placed behind his back as though he were planning war strategies. "On one condition."

See? Trap.

"Dinner. With me. Tomorrow."

Did he think this was a smart way to secure an evening with a woman?

"I won't be here tomorrow." Bold-faced lie, and he could tell.

"Then tonight. Right now." You couldn't think of anything you were doing.

"And I'll get my pencil back."

"Yes."

"That can't be it. There's a catch."

"You are... remarkable. Yes. There is.", he whispered, softly, as though impressed that you caught on. "Champagne. I wish to see you drunk. Drunk, in denial and... ruined."

Lot of darkness for someone who'd just been talking about a goat.

"In denial?"

"Nothing. Just... join me for dinner and drink a little, and I promise you shall have your pencil back."

"I do not drink."

"Then I do not return fancy French pencils."

"I can always purchase another."

"You do not have sentimentality, then?"

"No." Yes.

"I see. Then you may be on your way."

"I don't have to go anywhere. I have every right to be here! This is still my side of The Line."

"Suit yourself, darling."

The silence that followed was torturous and unbearable. "I do not like steak."

"Then you shall have no steak."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

His eyes focused on you from across the table, his spoon paused midway above his plate. Eyes like the ocean in a storm. Terrifying but alluring.

"Enjoying your not-steak?"

You hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

He nodded, bringing his spoon up to his lips as he watched you do the same.

"You've left your friends out there?"

"They know not to cross The Line. They will be alright."

"Why is it you wanted to have dinner with me? To trap me into trespassing?"

"I've wanted to speak with you since I first saw you." Lie.

"And I you." Lie.

"What was it you wished to say?"

"Simply a greeting. You?"

"The same."

He set down his spoon, scrunching up his napkin as he stood up and walked the short distance across the table to you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. "You promised you'd drink."

"I did?"

"You did.", he whispers, accepting the newly-uncorked bottle the servant handed him, and pouring it into the glass next to your plate, smoothly. "And you're a good girl who keeps promises, yes?"

You'd heard he loved using such degrading language, but this was the first time you'd seen it firsthand.

"What gave you that idea?"

"I just figured you were of proper breeding and were raised right."

Good answer.

"Well, the words 'I promise' never left my mouth."

"Well-bred women do not look for loopholes. And they most certainly do not argue."

Lord knows where he'd worked up the audacity to brush some hair off your shoulder, but perhaps he was born with it imbibed in his blood.

He narrowed his eyes at your unchanging expression. "Drink."

"I am not done with my food."

He breathes out loudly, taking your plate and thrusting it into the hands of the nearest servant. "Yes, you are."

"I still have dessert."

"No, you don't. Drink."

"This is not champagne. You said champagne."

"And you said you'd drink. We both have uttered falsities. Drink."

"I fear you may be trying to-"

"Poison you? I am not. I would not like to see you die."

Was that supposed to be some form of assurance? Romantic? Caring? That did not have the intended effect.

"Drink, lovely."

It irked you how invested he was to see you drunk.

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, bringing it to your lips. Tilting it upwards, you let the liquor cascade down your throat, and echoes of your sputtering filled the room - it burned.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head as he stroked your shoulder from behind you. "Do you know what that was?"

"No. But I do know I will not take another sip."

"It was vodka, my dear, and in a few moments, you will want more. Trust me."

"I'm not taking another sip of that ghastly liquid!"

"Not even for me? Not even if I begged?"

"You think your begging has any effect on me?"

"Doesn't it? I'm known to be quite persuasive, and- besides, aren't you supposed to be the empathetic one in the family?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"Just about everywhere, really.", he huffed, resting his elbow on the table as he knelt down by your side. "'Y/N is the nicest one. She cares the most. Empathetic.' Surely you are not telling me those are lies?"

"Not lies, but exaggerations, perhaps."

"I am quite literally on my knees, Y/N, and you should realize how rare that is. Drink more or I will have to force you."

You frowned at him.

"I will do it. Force you. Don't think that because I have let you in my house so courteously that I will continue to be a gentleman with you."

"How could you be? You're nothing but a cad.", you scoffed, as you took another stingingly painful gulp.

He watched the glass, your tongue, your throat, almost mesmerized as he replied. "A cad?", he questioned softly, amused but still fascinated by your every movement.

"A cad.", you nodded, trying not to show how much you were gasping for breath. It hurt, satisfyingly.

"That's a first. No one has ever said 'oh, Alexei Vronsky, that cad'.", he murmured against his palm as he observed you meticulously.

"Then they have met a different person."

"You say this out of personal experience, do you?"

"I've met him. The Alexei Vronsky. He only thinks of one thing."

A lilt of his lips. "And that is?"

"Himself."

He concealed a grin.

"Or perhaps...", he mused, fingertips on the back of your neck as though he were playing your skin as one would a piano. "He is one who shows different versions of himself to different people."

"So he is deceitful."

"I'd say careful."

"Would you, now?"

"I think we put up far too many false pretences anyway. No point in fighting it - it is necessary, to be part of society."

"And what false pretences am I putting up, in your expert opinion?"

He smiled, one too pure to match the description you had so harshly delivered a moment before, but you knew more than most that it was a ruse. "Drink more."

"You're an incredibly demanding man, aren't you? Dine with me. Drink more. Not a single please, nor thank you.", you retorted, as though that could take away from the fact that you obeyed.

"When you are incredibly in demand, you learn to be incredibly demanding."

If ever a smoother talker existed, you'd wager he'd simply be Alexei Vronsky in disguise.

"So tell me, then. Are you a gentleman, a cad, or an opportunist, Count Vronsky?"

You had to steer the conversation back to him, because whatever this vilely beguiling liquor was, it was shooting through your veins at a rate too fast to risk talking about yourself, lest any family secrets spilled out.

"I am whatever you want me to be. And you? Are the rumours true? Are you a virgin, a temptress, or a genius?"

"I am whatever I want to be. For tonight."

"Come morning?", he murmured against your neck as he slipped a finger under a loose strand of hair, and twirled it with such dedication you would think that were his only purpose in life.

"A memory."

"Well, we can't have that.", he pouted, as he stood up, gently taking the glass away from you and finishing the last of it. "What does it take for a memory to stay in the present?"

"Vronsky-"

"A dance, perhaps, as they say you enjoy?"

If you weren't unsure of the functionality of your motor skills in your drunken haze, you'd have punched him right then and there.

"The rumours aren't true, you know?"

"What rumours?", he asked, feigning obliviousness.

He'd just spoken of them, but you were quite sure if you reminded him, he'd attribute it to the vodka. Tell you you were 'surely imagining things, dear one'.

"The ones that led you to come and have a go at me."

"Those? Oh, I didn't believe them for a second.", he grinned, his eyes examining the filthiest, most remote parts of your soul - ones that even you had never been privy to.

A moment washed over the both of you, tauntingly. You looked for any secrets in his eyes, and he looked for any in yours, albeit, more calmly than you.

"Come.", he mumbled, finally, offering his hand for you to get up out of his disgustingly well-crafted chair. "Let's get you back on your side of The Line."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

"There. Oh, and here. I am of proper manners.", he added after you'd leapt over The Line, handing your pencil back over to you.

It felt oddly anticlimactic after the events of the evening.

His icy blue eyes - striking, so striking that they pierced you - fell onto your lips for just a moment before landing on the pencil in your hand. "You don't want it back."

"What? Of course I do."

He had you. He was onto you.

"Let me rephrase. You don't need it back."

"Sentimentality. Of course I do."

"You really don't want it to stay in my possession, instead?"

"No."

"Liar.", he smirked, his lips curving deliciously, and you just about lost it. "You know I'll take very good care of it, no? Like I took care of you, tonight. No complaints, yes?"

"Besides the aggressive persuasion to drink a fiery liquid that most probably burnt my throat off, no."

"You exaggerate. Tell me tonight was just another of your dull nights. Tell me I haven't been a source of reprieve from your tedious, mundane days of fakeness and gossip."

You scoffed, refusing to dignify that with a reply, although you already knew that any response- or lack thereof - would be all too telling.

"You cannot, can you?"

There was nothing you hated more than when men were right.

Especially men who were as captivating as Vronsky. It was unnecessary and dangerous.

He beamed, clearly so fucking proud of himself, as he looked out at the waves. "It is a lovely dress you are wearing."

No, it wasn't. It was the most commonplace of dresses one could wear. But he'd say it anyway. Because that was his play.

"Thank you."

"It is disgusting, though."

"In what way? A disgusting display of my wealth, or disgustingly lovely?"

He knelt down next to you from the other side, on the sand. "It is disgusting that such beauty and purity like yours can exist and people continue to slander its name."

Had you been a lesser woman, you'd have fallen for it.

It seemed, however, that he knew you wouldn't. It was confusing, to say the least, whether he was being genuine or being genuinely fake.

"It is how I live."

If you'd read him right, he should say something along the lines of...

"It shouldn't be."

There.

"However... the dress in itself is not disgusting?"

"No, it is spectacular- although, I must say, the woman wearing it is far more ravishing."

Games get boring when they are predictable.

"So. What is it you normally do after parties, since you cannot get drunk? Unless blackmailing women to dine with you and drink your vodka is your usual pastime."

He snickered, although a slight maliciousness infiltrated his gaze for a moment. "It isn't so much a pastime as... an unfortunately common occurence. Perhaps that's why you've got an opinion of me as a - how'd you put it?"

"A cad."

"Ah, yes, a cad. I wonder if your opinion has changed."

That was not hope in his eyes, no. That was a challenge. 'Go ahead, Y/N, say no. If you dare.', his look said.

"I wonder that, too. Perhaps it will if you keep your promise."

"Promise?", he repeated, raising a brow. He knew. He knew all too well what you were saying.

"False pretences.", you reminded, watching him as he watched the waves distort the light of the moon. "You said you would tell me what false pretences you think I put up."

He was far too close. The incredibly fragile, entirely imaginary Line wouldn't be able to stop him from reaching over and touching your shoulder once more.

"I think... do you want to know what I think?"

"I might."

"I think that you're lying when you brush off the rumours."

"You think I am a slut? A temptress?" Now, suddenly, the monotonous nature of everyday seemed far more interesting than the thousandth iteration of the same conversation.

"No, I think you brushing them off is the lie. They affect you far too much." Alright. That was... progress.

"Do they, now?"

"Very much. And there is one more, as well, although I doubt you will like to hear it. You crave to prove them right."

Congratulations, Alexei Vronsky, you've caught my attention.

"That is an extremely, extremely bold suggestion."

"Yet you are not denying it."

"I do not wish to have my virtue questioned, Vronsky, and us having dinner does not change that."

"But it pokes at it, does it not? A slight scratch, an itch, asking if that is what you really want. It blurred the lines, did it not?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"You're an incredibly delusional man, Count Vronsky."

"A delusional cad."

"Precisely."

You didn't miss the amusement in his tone, the laughter, the way he knew how perfectly right he was.

"Well, this delusional cad did not lie, earlier. You truly have bewitched me, my dear, and I do not think I shall ever turn you down."

He stood up, dusting the sand off his gloves and pants. You stood up too, not out of respect, but out of the desire to relish his face once more.

"Turn me down?"

"When you inevitably ask for me when your marriage is dry, lifeless and torturous."

Good lord. How long had he been- how far ahead was he thinking?

"I will be right here. On this side."

"Why are you so adamant that my marriage will be-"

"Because I'm the one you need. You've broken quite literally every rule tonight. Crossed the line, fraternized with the enemy, drank unfamiliar alcohol that could so easily have been poisoned or used against you."

"How does that make you the one I-"

"I'm taking you out of your comfort zone. Freeing you. What more would one want from a lover?"

So casual with that word. Lover. As though that was all you two had been, since the beginning.

"Have I mentioned that you're-"

"Delusional? Yes, you have. But you have also yet to mean it."

Who the hell allowed this man to be so confident?

His thumb rubbed against your cheek in pure tenderness that you are well-prepared for - you've learnt over the years he's unpredictable, and since his mercurial nature was the only predictable thing about him, it was easy for you to guess his next move.

Or at least, figure out that it would be the exact opposite of the tone of his words.

"I can help you, you see?", he said, words so faint they were almost whisked away in the sea breeze. "Honest."

"Was that the point of tonight?"

"No, the point of tonight was to get you so utterly inebriated that you would tell me your family's secrets, and hence, your own."

That was the only thing that had come out of his mouth all night that you could guarantee was the truth.

"And since that did not happen, you are doing this?"

"No, I couldn't let that happen. Unwrapping you, figuring you out, it is far too intriguing a task to complete with a glass of vodka and enticing words. I want to spend years, decades, the rest of my life, performing this task, revealing you slowly and addictively, until I have lost myself or driven myself crazy trying to reach the core of your soul."

The silence kissed you two over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "You are terrifyingly good at this."

He almost looked like he was about to say 'at what', but it seemed his mood had turned too serious to coax a half-hearted insult out of you.

"And you are terrifying. You are like the eye of a storm, intricately, almost... sinisterly drawing me closer."

"I'm not sure what you want me to-"

His lips devoured your words, and you could not help but think that this night had progressed far too rapidly to your liking. He was a stranger, a random man who you shared nothing but a flimsy little line with, but here you were, letting him kiss you, letting him ruin you, letting him convince you with his words that this was a good idea.

"Come on, darling.", he murmured against your lips, his eyes still half-lidded in a triumphant haze. "Cross the line. I promise, I'll take care of you."

You surrendered, and all you could do was hope that his beauty was simply angelic in nature, and was not designed for the sole purpose of ruining you and every iota of self-respect you had.

Hard to tell, but perhaps he had meant it that way.

[nyrasbloodyclover]

ok so hear me out...

[fr-ogii]

falling for you

count vronsky

x fem!reader; poc friendly

masterlist

request: "romantic hc when he meets his now wife after Anna's death and how he fell for her 💎✨" @hilalcoven

-> the count never thought he could fall for anyone ever again after the death of his lover, anna. he didn't even know how he would be able to live. he couldn't raise annie, their kid. despite barely having any distinguishing features yet, the thought that she would turn into someone that resembled anna was too much to bear. he felt awful that his daughter had to lose both her parents in such quick succession, but he could not force himself to raise her.

-> he had sworn off love entirely, convinced it would bring nothing but misfortune to him and any future lover of his.

-> but he changed his tune when he met you.

it was a cold september night in st. petersburg. it had been a couple years since the fateful day anna lost her life. the count had returned to the city from serbia - his time fighting against the ottoman empire was up.

he had expected the pain of his loss to have reduced itself after the years both away from anna and away from the city he became acquainted with her in. unfortunately for alexei, the pain came back as soon as he saw the skyline of st petersburg emerging from the horizon.

to escape this, vronsky visited a tavern as soon as he arrived in the all-too familiar city.

the warmth of the bustling building rushed to meet him as soon as the count opened the well worn door. the stench of cheap alcohol enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him. his eyes landed on the bar that was situated a bit further back into the establishment and was occupied by two men who were clearly foreigners to this area and were speaking quickly in a tongue alexei could not understand. as was the unspoken rule, alexei sat two stools over and waited for the worker behind the bar to come over.

count vronsky had become impossibly quiet in the time away from anna. he only spoke when addressed. he avoided confrontation. it was as if the death of the mother of his child had left him mute.

an uncountable amount of minutes passed before a noise brought alexei out of his stupor. he had long since received his meal - a roasted meat he already forgot the name of. the pale ale in his mug had been nursed far too many times and was nearly gone.

his head snapped up when he heard that noise again. it was the trotting of a horse and the spinning wheels of the carriage it was pulling. there was something so recognizable about it. before alexei could be sucked back into his reminiscing tendencies, he turned around as the wooden door opened.

and there you were.

he wouldn't exactly call it "love at first sight", but he was certainly intrigued. count vronsky looked around the bar and noticed a couple other men that let their eyes flicker towards you periodically. aleksey stood slowly, stretching out the aches and pains that had grown in his joints in the many minutes he had been sitting. he would not let another man reach you before he could. and so, he began to walk over to you.

[vvvrrroooomm]

MORE STRANGER THINGS STUFF THAT BREAKS ME

- Dustin befriended and (pretty much) raised an extremely dangerous inter-dimensional creature and no one talks about it?????

- 90% of the characters on the show have daddy issues one way or another

- Kate Bush never allowed shows or movies to use her songs with Stranger Things being her only exception

- Millie saying the day she shaved her head was “the most empowering day of my life.”

- Gaten carrying everyone

- Elevens hair in season 4 mirrors Joyce’s hair

- The ENTIRETY of the Halloween scenes with the party

- Dustin making a whole radio that can reach North to South Pole and NO ONE CARED

- Benny Hammond

- Joyce kicking Mayor Kline in the balls

- “Do you know Dustin Henderson?” “Know him? I’ve bled with him.”

- Technically this isn’t directly a Stranger Things thing but how on Ao3 ‘Soccer mom Steve Harrington’ is an official tag

- Dustin and Erica’s friendship

- Platonic Stobin

- Alexei and his cherry slushees 😭😭😭

And,

[writerslittlelibrary]

Hello lovelies 👋

I'm working on two fics at the moment. Which should I post first?

(A widow family fic means with Mama Natasha, Aunty Yelena, and Melina and Alexei)

Knight Abby x Princess reader posted here

[sailxrmxrs]

so. it's been a few months. OOPS. the creative juices have not been flowing lately BUT WE ARE SO BACK. and getting festive!! today we're decorating for christmas with our beloved infinite blue boys. this one won't be full fics but more so thoughts strung together. throwing my brain at my computer screen and seeing what sticks type beat. shoutout to itsu for the art that made me go insane abt the boys and desperate to write smth again. also shoutout to ito for listening to me ramble my thoughts aloud. always a pleasure to brainrot with u. determined to try and get back to regular writing but we shall see how that goes LMAO. for now enjoy christmas decorating gamers WOOOO.

♡ leo ♡

Leo gets SO excited for Christmas time. He loves seeing the neighbourhood lit up with strings of lights and bright displays of festivity. He's not one to hold back either with his own decorations. Leo has built up a rather eclectic collection of decorations and baubles for his Christmas tree, most of them being movie references or themed. Stormtrooper wearing a Santa hat, a resin hanging decoration made to look like a stack of Lord of the Rings books, that sort of thing. He excitedly asks what sort of fun decorations you own or want to get because he wants the tree to match both of your interests. Definitely surprises you with a few that he thinks you'll like, barely able to contain himself. Leo is bad at keeping presents a surprise. He just loves seeing how excited you get!! Very much the embodiment of golden retriever boyfriend. Always. I can see Leo also having some decorations with sentimental value too. Like this one bauble he painted as a kid that's definitely not the prettiest mix of colours, but it brings back memories of childhood and excitedly trying to stay up late to see Santa leaving presents behind. He LOVES good christmas tradition too. Every Christmas Eve he's watching the same movie (probably Home Alone) with an array of snacks laid out to enjoy. He loves getting to share it all with you too as well as starting new traditions for future Christmases together. For example, this year he dumped strips of coloured paper on the floor, put his Christmas playlist on, and declared you were both making paper chains and paper snowflakes to hang around the house with the tinsel already on display. There's no such thing as too many decorations in Leo's world so I hope you're prepared for your home to look like a festive spirit exploded in every room. Bonus note he also owns sets of festive pyjamas specifically for December and will only wear these. If it's not Christmas related he isn't touching it. Also owns slippers made to look like reindeer.

♡ milo ♡

Milo might just be the worst one to decorate for Christmas with. He's never really been overly fussed about buying decorations or a tree and has literally nothing of the sort at home. He hadn't even considered the thought that you might want to indulge a little and spend a day or two putting up lights or finding a tree for your shared living room. When you do mention the idea to him, Milo is somewhat surprised, but will nod along that sure you can get a tree. Will suggest you buy one of those pop-up trees that comes with the ornaments already attached because it's easier and will only take a couple minutes to set up and put into place. It takes a lot of convincing to sway him away from that idea. He doesn't seem to realise that half the fun is spending hours fighting the tangled mess of lights, or finding that one specific ornament you bought a few years ago just to hang front and centre on the tree. Will only agree to it if you promise to buy him an early Christmas present too. Bribery is a wonderful tool for convincing Milo to join in all the traditional couple behaviours and outings. He'll enjoy it once he's there and sees how much you're enjoying yourself, but will make a point to complain about the weather, or that he's getting bored looking at different variations of the same lights. His boredom is easily cured by a request to get food before heading home. Once you're home, he offers to reach all the tallest parts you can't reach, but not before making a smug joke about how you only asked him to help because you wanted the extra pair of hands. At the end of it all, he'll be stood behind you, arms enclosed around you and pulling your back against his chest. Will rest his chin atop your head and admit that yes, he had a lot of fun today and yes he will do it again next year. Offers to take you out again next weekend to go ice skating or put together gingerbread houses. Just as long as you don't make him wear one of those awful Christmas jumpers Leo sent a picture of himself wearing the other day. You don't make any promises.

♡ rory ♡

Ever the hopeless romantic, Rory equally adores and despises this time of year. He loves the romanticism of the festive atmosphere, the twinkling fairy lights, the decadence of the food. He's secretly been craving the chance to share it all with someone else. But he would never admit to it. Which is also the cause for his self-proclaimed hatred of the holiday season. He likes to lament about how so much of it is commercialised and specifically catered to couples wanting an excuse to show off how cute they are. He'll acutely ignore the fact that you came home to him watching one of those cheesy Netflix Christmas rom-coms. The type where a prince gets isekaied into the suburbs of New York and falls in love with generic city woman. Will try to hide his face in the neckline of his sweater while you set down boxes of decorations to dress up the room. Claims he wants no part of it and acts all indifferent to your enthusiasm, though it is blatantly evident on his face that he actually means the exact opposite. So you get to hanging baubles from the tree, singing along to Christmas songs as they chime from the speakers. It's when you notice Rory stand up, eyes flickering from you, to the tree, to the floor, that you ask if he would like to give you a hand. Will say no, but you should move that one ornament a bit higher up. It will look better there. Or maybe add a different coloured one there to brighten up that section. Pass a box of ornaments to him and tell him that if he's going to comment on your decorating then he better just do it himself. Rory acts as though this is some large inconvenience but within minutes he's quietly singing along under his breath, a rosy colour staining his cheeks. Pull out some mistletoe and watch him turn an even brighter red. Do it I dare u. And once the room is sufficiently dressed up for Christmas, Rory will collapse back on the sofa, shyly admitting how much he loved spending the time with you as you burrow into the warmth of his side. Will get a little flustered but tries to play it cool until you tease him about finishing the rom-com you caught him watching earlier. Goes to push you away but immediately pulls you back in. Maybe he can be a little more affectionate than usual today. Maybe.

♡ alexei ♡

Alexei doesn't usually decorate a whole lot around the festive season. It's not for a lack of wanting to, nor does he dislike it at all, but rather he just never felt like he had a reason to before. For him, Christmas always felt like a very family-oriented time of year so after he moved out, the thought simply never occurred to him that he could go out and buy a tree and ornaments, even just for his desk at work. When you pose the idea to him to get your home all decorated up for the season, Alexei's interest is piqued. He will scroll for ideas on how to pick a colour theme and will get really into the colour ratio of the baubles too. He lines the tree with golden fairy lights and makes sure the balance of red and green baubles is even. Makes sure to find tinsel that matches the exact shades as well so it doesn't look mismatched at all. It's really rather cute how focused he'll get over it, eyebrows furrowed and this tiny little crease in his forehead. Stands with a look a pure concentration in the way his eyes are surveying the tree from top to bottom, his finger tapping against his lip while you watch from your spot on the sofa sipping a hot chocolate Alexei made for you. You tried to tell him he doesn't need to take it so seriously with the way he's alternating between different coloured baubles but your voice falls on deaf ears. He'll stand back to admire his handiwork, looking to you for excitable approval. Once he deems it good enough, Alexei will lay down, his head just beneath the tree, and he'll gesture for you to join him. He feels all tired out after a day of decorating and has a distinct urge to nap under the tree like a cat. Will sleepily ramble about how he's been looking forward to spending the holiday with you, how he's excited to try all these new things and start ned traditions with you until eventually his eyes betray him and they blink slower and slower and he's falling asleep in your arms.

♡ brooklyn ♡

Brooklyn's home on Christmas is a sight to behold. The man knows how to decorate no matter what the occasion may be. He always loves to make a day of it too. Expect him to wake you up with a cup of tea, already dressed in a cosy Christmas sweater with his hair unstyled and a little messy. Winter Brooklyn is a delight for the eyes. Especially when he's got a hand-knitted scarf bundled around his neck and matching gloves warming his hands. Drives you to a local Christmas tree farm he always visits on the first weekend of December every year without fail. The owners know him by name at this point and are particularly excited to see he has company this year. His hand is entwined in yours as you wander around, talking and musing together over which tree would fit best. If it's snowing, expect Brooklyn to flick a snow-covered branch at you, a dusting of cold powder freckling your cheeks. Will laugh but lets you throw a snowball at him as payment for the attack. Once you pick out the perfect tree, Brooklyn takes you to a local Christmas market to pick out some new decorations. He has a rather rigorous theme he likes to stick to but wants to add something meaningful to signify the two of you—especially with this being your first Christmas together. He tries not to go too overboard and is only stopped by the sight of a stall offering decadent mugs of hot chocolate. Once you're back home and in the warm, Brooklyn is lighting the fireplace, along with a few festive themed candles, and rolling up his sleeves. It's at this point you see just how serious he is about Christmas decorating. And it certainly pays off because once you're both done, the tree looks like someone opened pinterest, found the most visually pleasing tree and managed to extract it and place it directly in your living room. Brooklyn looks very pleased with himself as you praise his well thought out planning. Ends the day with a surprise gift for you because his family always had a tradition of giving a gift on Christmas tree day and he wants to keep that going with you. Is generally just the embodiment of Christmas rom-com love interest with how perfect he makes the day turn out to be.

♡ tobias ♡

Decorating with Tobias is so unbelievably chaotic. There is no rhyme or reason to the scattering of ornaments all over the floor. Decorations are everywhere except where they are supposed to be. He claims he's got a strategy but you're not so certain. He also doesn't really bother with any particular colour theming and just picks out what he thinks looks cool. Loves to have a range of different shapes and colours for the ornaments. Also buys a string of multicoloured flashing lights to drape around the tree because 'regular white lights are boring'. Tobias doesn't care too much about whether you put up a plastic tree or a real one, that is until he sees Brooklyn post a photo of his own Christmas tree on instagram and suddenly Tobias wants to buy a real tree too and make it look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. So he's dragging you out into the cold to go and buy one. Finds his idea of the perfect tree after a good hour of deliberating over which one looks best. Wants one that's got a good shape to it and has plenty of branches. In doing so, however, he very much overestimates how big his car is and how big his apartment is. Drives home with the top of the tree sticking between the seats it's basically sitting on the passenger seat with you. And then there's getting it into his apartment. It's just a little bit too tall so the top of the tree is bent over a little against the ceiling. Tobias rejects your idea to buy a saw and cut the trunk down because surely you can just trim to top, right? No, Tobias, you cannot. Ends up deciding to bend it so the top is angled down a little since you won't let him take the kitchen scissors to it. You're about to attempt to put the star on top until Tobias stops you, claiming he needs to make some adjustments before it goes up. Runs into the bedroom and returns like five minutes later with the star but now it has a picture of his face taped onto the front. Reaches up to put it on the tree but because it's a little too tall, the star is angled down so it looks like star Tobias is watching over like some cursed angelic watchman. Leo is very unsettled when he comes over to visit.

[bsoo-art]

Loved that scene in “Chapter Eight: The Battle of Starcourt” where Murray came back home and danced with his boyfriend <3

Couldn’t hear what they were dancing to because I was crying so much but it looks like they’re having fun

Woody woodpecker??,? Omg what what are you doing in Alexei and Murray’s bed

[voxmortuus]

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.

Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.

"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.

"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.

"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.

His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.

"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.

"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.

His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."

"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.

"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.

"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.

Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.

After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.

Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.

He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.

After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.

The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.

You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.

"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.

"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.

"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.

His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.

"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.

"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.

"Alexei, no." You state firmly.

He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.

Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.

His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.

You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?

"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.

"We're going someplace secluded." He states.

"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.

"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.

You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.

By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.

"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.

HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."

"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.

He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.

Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.

"What is all of this about?" You ask.

"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.

"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.

"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.

"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.

"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.

"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.

"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.

"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.

"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."

You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"

Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.

Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.

"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.

Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.

"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.

He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.

"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?

"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.

Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.

"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.

Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.

"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.

"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.

You have no means of responding.

"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.

You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.

You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.

As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.

"Get off of me." you demand.

"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.

You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.

Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.

The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.

Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.

The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.

Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.

"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.

"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.

He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.

Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.

"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.

With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.

And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.

[writingwenches]

House Shett of Gull Town

Seat — the port city of Gull Tower in the Bay of Crabs Sworn to — House Royce of Runestone Status — Wealthy Landed Knights newly turned Lords in The Vale

The Siblings

First let it be known that neither of these kids can read. They had all the opportunity, and scholars, and maesters, and septons and it's just not happening. No one in their family ever learned, and they're doing just fine.

Ser Alexei Shett

A known handsome man, has the eye of many ladies of the realm. Alexei's father is the first ever Lord Shett, he brought the family to its current glory, and Alexei knows that it can all be taken away if they displease their liege Lord Paramounts. Alexei will soon become the first to inherit the title of Lord Shett once his father passes. His sister holds a prestigious place a court.

Lady Ima Shett

Lady Shett has been a lady-in-waiting to Princess Aemma Velayron for the past few years, and she can not imagine life outside of the busy palace. She longs for the easy life, and believes the gods will grant her all she could ever want, because she is practically perfect in every way, how could they deny her? Unlike the Targaryen and their kin, The Faith of the Seven denounce the sin of incest, and Ima thinks its unfair. She dreams of being Lady Shett to her future Lord brother, he is the most handsome man in the kingdom, after all.

[quietlyimplode]

Black Widow Fest 2023 - Day Seven

Mirror, Mirror.

Warnings: dead dove. child abuse, child death (red room)

Word count: 2694

Pairing: nil. Natasha Centric.

A/N: truthfully, this has been a hard one to write but as it got going it got easier. Borne of beautiful artwork by @lightmotifs and a conversation about Natasha looking at herself in the mirror, spawned.. well, this. A five parter of times Natasha looked at herself in the mirror. So please heed the warnings. <3 (also this was supposed to be the last fic of the years bwf but I had to add in Kiss the Dread) As always your comments and support gives these fics life. <3

The scariest thing I had to encounter,

Wasn’t a ghost, or a scary monster.

It was the reflection, I saw as I looked in the mirror.

The moment I had to face,

All the dark parts, I tried hard to erase

Yet as I looked a bit closely, at the eyes staring back at me,

I realised they were still there,

Untouched and unfazed.

Waiting for the day to be let out of their cage.

- Reflection (S.S.W)

1/ Ohio

Touching the bruise softly, Natasha watches her face wince in the mirror. It doesn’t hurt, it stings, maybe that’s the sensation she’s feeling.

She’s old enough to know that she won’t be going to school tomorrow, because they ask questions about those sorts of of things.

Melina had promised to show her how to put make up on bruises, but she’d left in the hours of the morning with Yelena, leaving Natasha and Alexei together.

“Let me teach you something new,” he’d laughed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from her book.

“Don’t let the American language corrupt your mind.”

She’d tried to pull her wrist away, but he’d held on, and it was only when she trailed behind him, did she smell the vodka on his breath.

Whatever he had planned to show her, he wouldn’t remember, not being as drunk as what he was.

“Sambo is a man’s sport, but you will learn,” he’d said.

Natasha knows the bruise on her face isn’t the only visible one, but if she thought about what really hurt, her back would be top priority.

She takes her tshirt off to see if it has the same coloured hue as her eye. She takes the chair and puts it under the door so that Alexei does not wander in, and then twisting in the mirror, she catches a glance at her back.

It’s as she suspected, bruises mottling down her spine from where he’d picked her up and crashed her down.

His laugher had made her smile, even as she winced in hurt.

“Come on Natasha, show me how the Red Room girls defend themselves.”

She didn’t really know how to react, and so had thrown a half hearted punch, before he picked her up and threw her again.

Natasha wasn’t sure when it had turned, his laughter turned serious and she’d missed the cue for his anger. Suddenly, his attempt at playing, mutated and as she’d got up again, he pushed her down.

“I win,” he said conversationally.

She missed the warning in his voice as she stood back up.

Natasha tried not to cry when he open hand slapped her in the face, the sound shocking her more than the hit, and she’d stayed down.

He stood over her, grabbing the nearby bottle and taking a swig.

“I win,” he snarled, “I will always win.”

And then stalked off to find a corner to drink some more.

She’d only moved when she’d heard his loud snores coming from the bedroom, and had risen on shaking legs, making her way to the bathroom to assess the damage.

The mirror doesn’t lie, she thinks as she stares at herself, poking softly at the swelling, wishing quietly for a way to swap places with the mirror version of herself.

2/ Location Unknown. Russia.

They’re lined up like they always are, and take their places on the bar. The distance between them is measured and they’ve done this often enough to know exactly what to do.

Madam strikes her switch and the music starts.

Natasha follows the movement and lets her mind wander. It comes with such ease that she no longer even has to think about it.

Today feels different, but she can’t figure out why.

Madam, perhaps looks more strict, but she hasn’t said anything, hasn’t corrected anything, has let them follow the music without yelling or hitting them with switch to correct movement.

The longer it goes on, the more it feels wrong.

There’s no talking.

They breathe hard as training continues longer than it should.

She shares a glance with the other girls, and she knows everyone is feeling the strangeness.

Legs shaking they’re lined up again, and at last; Natasha thinks, they can go into the lunch hall and eat.

Except they don’t.

They’re sat, facing the mirror in the hall, and Natasha takes the opportunity to look at the other girls in the reflection.

Something she rarely does.

They all look as tired as she does.

They all look nervous at the change in routine.

Even those that know how to mask their faces, have shifting eyes and clenched fists.

She stares at herself, and takes her demeanour in, focusing first at relaxing her face, making her features become stoic and straight faced. Next she relaxes her shoulders, keeping her breathing even.

Her legs give nothing away, so she puts her hands flat on her knees and keeps her back straight.

No slouching.

Dreykov enters.

Immediately, her hands tighten on her knees but she sees it in the mirror.

Natasha knows now this is going to be a lesson.

And not a good one.

She stares stoically at the mirror.

Reasoning, that she can see everything in the room, and she can focus on herself.

It becomes more important when Anabelle is dragged in by her hair.

Natasha’s heart sinks.

They knew she was missing in the morning and had gossiped about her whereabouts. They’d concluded that she was in medical.

Because no one would be stupid enough to do what they assumed she had done.

As Dreykov starts to talk, Natasha’s heart sinks further.

She’d tried to escape.

They’d caught her at the border of the forest.

Glancing quickly at her, Anabelle seems to know her fate, her clothes ripped by what Natasha assumes is handiwork of Dreykov’s dogs.

She turns back to the mirror.

If she watches the mirror, she can make it seem like she’s watching an American movie.

She’s not here.

It’s not happening in front of her.

The mirror shows all the horrors, the monologue from a villain.

It’s just a movie, Natasha tells herself, nails digging into her knees.

Nails pieces her skin as the gunshot goes off.

She doesn’t want to look.

Dreykov’s voice is nothing in the back of her head as she watches the blood spread on the floor.

Staring stoically forward, she watches the others stand, numbly; she does the same.

She takes one last look in the mirror, and the scene of horror, and knows the truth that it holds.

3/ Location Unknown. America.

The interrogation room in Shield is simple.

Table.

Chairs.

Handcuffs holding her wrists on the table.

Two way mirror.

She wonders idly how many people sit behind that mirror, how many are evaluating her, if Clint Barton is watching too.

Maria Hill, the SIC of Shield, crosses her legs again and waits.

“We can make this more uncomfortable,” she states.

Natasha doesn’t doubt it.

“But Barton has assured us that you would cooperate, and abide by the rules of your surrender.”

Natasha nods.

Stares at the two way mirror.

“I will,” she speaks to it.

She has no interest in Maria, and is willing to talk, but there’s a certain anxiety that comes with divulging her country’s secrets.

If they find her, she’s dead, but she was already dead anyway.

She wishes she could see him through the mirror.

Instead, she just sees her own face, dead eyes staring back to her.

“Tell us about Bali, and your role in the assassination of American diplomat,” Maria repeats.

Natasha frowns.

“How do you know that was me?”

Maria bristles.

“Was it?”

Natasha doesn’t have enough information to know how much they know. If she lies, or tells less than they truth, and they know more than she tells them, there’s not telling what they’ll do.

It’s not a winnable game unless she answers their questions with more questions and gauge her response from that, she could perhaps play it that way.

It seems too hard though.

And she’ll let Clint down.

After all he went through to get her out.

She looks to the mirror again, and finds her eyes pleading.

Turning back to Maria and sighing, she uses the mirror as an anchor.

“No one ever assumes that the woman in a dress is a threat.”

The tiniest of smiles crosses Maria’s face, and it’s more like a softening of features than anything else.

“I passed him twice, once to slit his femoral artery and the second to make sure he’s dead.”

The clanking of the handcuffs make her brain short out alongside the anxiety, the fact that she’s in America, talking about missions, is tantamount to death.

Dreykov’s face appears in the mirror and her eyes go wide.

“He’s dead,” she says out loud, and the image fades.

Maria nods.

“Yes, he died, as you’ve stated.”

She’s thankful her fuck up isn’t noticed, despite the fact her heart is beating hard against her chest.

“Do you need a break?” Maria’s asks, the words kind, even if the delivery is not.

Natasha shakes her head, calming herself, as she grounds herself by looking back to the mirror.

If nothing else is real, at least she is.

She knows this by the way she raises her head and her mirror image copies the action.

The way she talks and the image opens and closes her mouth in time.

There’s no delay like in dreams.

Hours they continue, and she grows tired of the constant questions, the interrogation that occurs when her story doesn’t line up with her timelines of events.

It’s just, it’s how she remembers it’s happening.

It’s not like she has the mission reports in front of her.

She’s not even trying to hide lies in the truth anymore.

What would be the point?

They’ll either take her in and help protect her from the last standing Red Room members or they’ll kill her.

In the back of her mind, she doesn’t care about whatever way they go.

She’s dead either way, and being alive never seemed to help anyone.

“Tell me about Ohio,” Maria asks.

But it’s too much.

“No,” Natasha states, staring hard at her.

“No.”

“No.”

“We’ve been at this for hours, days, handcuffed, toileted like a child, made to wait, been asked the same questions, about the same missions over and over to see if my story varies. It doesn’t, and still you ask.”

Sick of the handcuffs, she slips out of them, and rubs her wrists, a familiar action that feels grounding in the moment, allowing her to continue her rant.

Her mouth speaks, her mind wanders.

They know about Ohio.

They might know about Yelena.

“Either kill me or agree to the terms of my defection.”

She stares at the mirror.

“I don’t care,” she finishes, “I don’t care.”

Despondent eyes look back to her as she hastens a glance.

The door opens and Clint strides in.

There’s a sense of dread and relief simultaneously.

“You’re the one they send to kill me?”

He stands next to her, argues, for her, not against her.

He tells Maria off for keeping her in cuffs, for not bringing in food or water and keeping Natasha in longer than she should.

He sighs and she hastens a look up to the mirror finding their images standing together.

Maybe shes not alone in this.

4/ The Avengers Tower, New York.

The mirrors in the lift are usually easily ignored.

Sometimes she’ll even take the stairs.

This time Natasha looks forward to it.

She wants to see how she looks, wants to see how feral she is.

Blood in her hairline, bruises on her face, she smiles at herself.

For once she feels like the outside matches the inside.

The doors close and it ascends upwards without her having to press a button, and she can’t stop looking at herself.

She did good.

Her body, her mind, her training, for once, paid off.

She got Tony out, and he’s safe because of her.

Getting closer to the mirror, she eyes the way her hair is unkempt, flyaway bits adorn her face, almost lining it, even though it’s all tied up in a tight bun. Not red, but brown this week. Clint had commented and pouted that he missed her hair, Steve reported that he was going to go blonde and Tony called her chameleon. She likes her brown hair, so different to her natural colour.

Next, she looks at her eyes.

Green watches her.

The speckled brown seemingly more, when contrasted with her brown hair.

She likes the way her pupils are wide as she changes her expression with the move of an eyebrow.

Natasha used to do this in the Red Room, practice facial expressions so she could school her face, remember how to look angry, sad, happy.

She touches the scar on her lip softly.

No make up.

She didn’t need it for the fight she fought.

Pale skin, blemish on her chin.

The bruises from the fight coming through slowly.

Since when did she stop wearing makeup daily just to hide who she was? She thinks it’s been months. Only wearing it when needed, when meeting with higher ups.

Here though; she doesn’t need it.

She’s Natasha. Not made up, not fake.

She touches her lips again, swollen, cut.

Pushes it into a smile, a frown, playing with pushing them in and out, watching how the cut expands and shrinks depending on her how she curls it.

The elevator stops, the doors don’t open.

Turning and glancing at doors, she realises Jarvis has recognised she’s entranced.

They’d call it vanity, she’d call it a luxury.

“Thanks,” she whispers, and turns her attention back to herself.

Eyebrows, up and down.

Frown, practicing facial expressions; she feels like a marionette.

Eyes big, eyes small. Sad. Happy.

It’s what it looks like on other people anyway.

She can fake any emotion.

She can pretend.

She’s been doing it all her life.

It doesn’t take much practice.

Being unmasked does.

Years of it.

Sometimes she feels like she’ll never be able to fully unmask and be herself.

Natasha knows the lengths she’s gone to, to hide who she is. Being vulnerable is too hard, rarely worth it.

The select few that know her know her like this, feral, unkempt, truthful.

The more she stares, the more she likes this version of herself.

“Thanks,” she tells empty space around her, “we can go now.”

The elevator starts, and delivers her to the floor with her room.

Natasha takes one last look at herself, smiles, and leaves.

5/ Norway

Natasha feels the artificial lighting; her head hurting due to the lack of sleep and constant vigilance.

The phone, now sans the SIM card, sits on the sink, and she stares heavily, taking in every part of her.

So tired of running, missing the stability she’s had.

Weak, she calls herself.

How could she forget the trials and lessons of her childhood?

She should have known that it would inevitably fall apart.

It was always going to end like this, with her alone, and being tracked by people she once considered allies.

“Once a traitor, always a traitor,” Rumlow had once whispered in her ear, and she’d tried to not take it to heart.

The thing is, she’d always known, she only needed to stay true to herself.

Her own morals.

She’d once told Clint that that only person she could trust was herself.

He’s told her that he wished she’d change her mind on that.

Perhaps for a time she did.

Maybe at the tower; maybe for that short period of her life where Tony showed her tech, Steve showed her how to draw and Bruce taught her how to cook. Times that seemed much simpler.

Now.

That’s gone.

The only person you can trust is yourself, she scalds herself, frowning in the mirror.

The mirror doesn’t lie.

The mirror holds truth.

Reaching out for herself she touches it gently.

She is real and not alone.

She has herself, and she knows the power of that.

.

[nyrasbloodyclover]

a real fucking legacy (a. k. vornsky)

a/n: stop asking why because i REALLY DON'T KNOW. my fav book, my fav fictional man, i am literally an anna karenina bible

I entered the ballroom that glittered with golden lights from the crystal chandeliers. I felt dizzy from all the excitement that was following me throughout the whole day, making sure my posture was perfect, dress unwrinkled and smile bright, just as everybody expected.

It was my third year after I came out into society, and no matter how many balls I attended, each one of them held a special place in my almost empty heart. Especially the ones I went to in the last 3 months.

All because he looked at me. He danced with me. And then decided to sneak out and find a place where no one would see us. We spent hours together on some deserted balcony. He was a good man and as much as I wanted to, he wouldn't lay a finger on me let alone, touch me the way he was wasn't supposed to.

Count Vronsky had many qualities that made him different from other gentlemen I've met, but the one I loved the most was that he was an amazing storyteller. He's seen so much, he's been everywhere and as a girl who practically did nothing my whole youth I was a great listener. He painted landscapes to me with his words and even when he thought some things he said didn't make any sense, I understood it all.

As he was older and much more mature, I made myself remember the way he formed his sentences and try to use it while telling the story of us.

I wore a maroon dress, not wanting to stand out, though the patterns on it were granular.Black lace was covering the edges while the corset was tied enough to make my breathing almost painful. My hair was pinned up, making my scalp hurt, but I somehow got used to all of it.

I saw some of my friends not too far from me, but a tall figure appeared before I could approach them. A younger man. I knew him. His name was Ivan-something and my mother would be delighted if  I decided to marry him. I fake smiled at him as he asked me for a dance. He absolutely blended in with all the other men I knew. I had to say yes. They couldn't suspect me and Vronsky, It was never going to happen, so why make fool of myself?

I inhaled sharply as he took my gloved hand and led me to the center of the ballroom. I loved to dance, but with an awful partner, even life could be miserable. I felt despondent as he spun me around and stepped on my feet continuously. Music ringed in my ears.

Even if I adored this piece, I couldn't stand it at the moment. I looked around and I felt like my gown was blood-soaked. My lungs were bleeding. I needed air. I wanted to go away, far, far away. Everyone was either dancing or talking and smiling, having much better time than me. Everyone except one person. And that person was approaching us right now. His pace was fast and strong and confident, everything I wasn't right now. He looked resplendent. I was counting seconds and begging him silently to end this torment.

He heard and answered my prayers.

Ivan suddenly stopped and I couldn't be more grateful. I wanted to hug my savior and thank him properly, but the only thing I could do right now was smile and slightly nod. Enough for him to understand. Vronsky's eyes went over my figure. His expression was flat but he tried to act polite. 

Ivan and I separated and Vronsky took a chance to whisper something to him. I couldn't make out any of the words, but I could see Ivan't expression change immediately. He tried to act friendly but miserably failed and excused himself. I tried not to laugh at him and couldn't stop wondering what had Vronsky said to him to make him leave without any protest. Vronsky turned to me.

"Good evening," he smiled,  "It looked like he was bothering you?" Did we actually look that bad? I thought I put on a great performance. 

"I don't think it was that miserable. He only stepped on my shoes three times."

Vronsky let out a rich laugh that I adored and It reminded me how much I miss him. I wanted us to sneak out like before. And I wanted to listen to him talk. But most of all, I wanted to dance with him, and feel his touch even if it was minimal. It was the most I'm ever going to get from him.

I took a step closer and he noticed. I wanted him to read my mind and do the right thing. He looked hesitant. Too hesitant. I looked up at him through my lashes and he tilted his head backwards. Not too much, it was the smallest movement but I noticed. 

"I should g—" 

"Ask me to dance," I blurted out.

He practically whipped his head in my direction and I felt blood rushing into my cheeks. If he refuses I'll leave. I'll leave immediately. And die of embarrassment, while we're at that.

He looked like he was fighting with himself, trying to do what he wanted and what was expected of him. But what I said was painfully forward and I should be ashamed of that. And I would be if it was someone else. With him I felt completely different. A moment passed.

"Very well," he said as he reached for my hand.

I tried to hide my face from him because I swear it was the color of my gown. Scarlet — practically maroon.

He placed one hand on my hip as his other took mine and I forgot everything else. 

His touch burned on me as Vronsky held my gaze. His eyes were mesmerizing and I ached to be closer to him in any possible way. He led me through the ballroom as we moved to the rythm of the soft music that was not so irritating now.

His fingers traced the laces on my back, toying with them. I inhaled sharply and he smirked at me, but we didn't stop dancing. I felt like we were the only ones in the entire room—I couldn't see anything except him. And I wanted it to stay that way.

I was dazed for a couple of seconds before he let go of me and stepped away.

I felt empty and for some reason exposed without his body shielding me from the people in the room.

"I'll bring us something to drink." It was a simple offer and it made me realize how thirsty I actually was. I nodded and moved to the side, so I don't bother anyone. My face was burning. Because of him.

Vronsky appeared seconds later with two wine glasses. Smiling up at him, I reached for one glass but instead of taking it like a normal person I managed to spill it all over my dress. I wanted to cry but he didn't look like it bothered him that I was practically ruined now. I tried to not cause a scene but it was hard. That was my favorite dress.

Tears prickled my eyes, but he didn't let me roll in self pity. "Don't worry. We just need to go somewhere more...private and I'll fix this. But look, now the dress completely matches your face." And he left without letting me respond to his comment. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but instead I waited for him.

He came with napkins and took my hand looking awfully suspicious. But I wasn't sure why. 

He looked around and saw that nobody was paying attention to us, though that was unexpected. Alexei smiled like he won the biggest prize and quickly led us through the backdoor of the ballroom. The rest of the house was empty and I swear he could hear my rapid heartbeat along with pulsing in my ears.

I knew what he wanted and where he was going. I was glad I knew his mind so well that he became predictable to me. I knew his desires and dreams and I couldn't help but wish I was one of them.

His white uniform matched perfectly with my much darker dress. Though Alexei was perfectly put together, while I was...the opposite.

We entered some dark room I didn't recognize. It was large but almost empty. It looked like someone's personal gallery. There was a desk in the corner along with some bookshelves. He closed the door. Then locked it. 

My head immediately turned to him, "There is no reason to lock the door, Alexei," I smiled innocently. "We aren't doing anything wrong." 

A moment passed between us. I scanned the shelves and touched the hard spines with golden embroidery. I tried to act like a fool, but I knew.

"We are about to."

And that did it. It made me completely lose my self control as I was throwing away the last pieces of dignity I had tonight. He practically marched towards me and grabbed my neck as he gently placed his mouth on mine. He knew I had absolutely no experience with men, so he was going easy on me. For now.

My whole body was on fire while he almost unnoticeably squeezed my neck. I moaned into his mouth and Vronsky towered over me, leading me back with his body. I was going backwards until I hit the large shelves. 

"Stop me before it's too late," he gasped into my neck. It was intoxicating. Everything about him, about the way he moved to the way he touched me was addicting I wasn't sure I would be able to stop.

"I won't," was all I said, but it made him aware that I was willing to give myself to him completely.

"You said you will take care of my dress," I added, still playing innocent, even if what we were doing was far from that. 

"And I'm planning to do just that," he said as he turned me. I was now facing shelves, my back to him. It gave him complete access to my corset. Which he began to untie immediately. He was skilled with his hands, I realized just now. It made my stomach turn in very unfamiliar way. I didn't know what kind of influence he actually had on me, but I liked it. It made me careless and stupid, but I was in control my whole life. It was nice to give it to someone else now.

Corset was down and my whole body felt hypersensitive for whatever reason. I wanted him to do so many things but I didn't know how to ask or if I was supposed to anyway. So I let him play with me.

"Turn, dorogaya," he whispered from behind and I obeyed. The nickname made me want to grab him and kiss his whole face. Then he went down. "I'm going to make you see stars." 

That was the last thing he said before taking down my skirt and the rest of the undergarments until I was stripped bare in front of him. But I was surprised I wasn't the least bit ashamed. Somehow, this felt completely ordinary with him. I was scared to move. I didn't know what or how to do anything. 

He naturally noticed and smiled, but not in a mocking way. His smile was so sweet I melted. 

"Touch me wherever you want. And however you want. Don't be afraid." That gave me a bit of confidence, so I looked down at him, on his knees. The image before me made me feel things I didn't know I was capable of feeling. I ran my hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, while his eyelids fluttered. 

It seemed like I had the same effect on him. Then I did something that made me question myself. I led his head down, in between my legs and I saw him smirk, but he knew what to do. 

The first time I felt his tongue on me was the closest I'll be to setting myself on fire. I gripped his hair on instinct. 

His mouth was doing wonders to me. I felt every sensation of it through my entire body. My head fell on the shelves and I had to press down a moan. Was this supposed to be this intense? He stopped using his mouth and continued with fingers while continuously kissing my lower stomach.

Vronsky did everything with patience and commitment. I didn't know why I thought this would be any different. I made a noise that sounded painful, but only because he was moving so slowly and torturedmewith his fingers. He shot me a concerned look, "Should I stop?"

"No, no, nonono," I cried out. I felt hard pressure building in my lower stomach and I grew dizzy. He went faster but then stopped and my hips buckled, while I was fighting the urge to do something myself. "Please continue," I pleaded.

"How could I not when you beg me so pretty?" He cocked his head and continued working me much faster this time, but still gentle. He took his time with me, looking at my reactions to certain movements, the sounds I was trying not to make, my face expressions. He knew what he was doing and he did it so well that It actually made me see stars. I choked on a scream as I was trying to catch a breath. My knees buckled and I felt I was closer to the edge.

He switched to his mouth again and Alexei's tongue finished the job. He put my leg over his shoulder to get better access and that completely pushed me.

I finished on his mouth and seconds later went down with him. He held me as I was trying to even out my breathing. "Can we do it again?" I surprised myself by asking.

He smiled down at me, "When you become countess, yes."

[blondie20000]

Challenge - Bucky Barnes x Yelena Belova

"Well..." Bucky clears his throat. "This is awkward."

"It's not awkward."

"Really? Well for starters there's not much leg room?"

"Not my fault you are so fucking tall."

"Me? I thought your ego was taking up the space."

Yelena glares at him. Bucky faced her with a smirk on his lips.

The mission was simple go in, gather intel and later regroup with the others and plan their next steps. Yelena wanted to ride this mission solo but Barnes decided to tag along insisting she needs back up. The White Widow protested tried everything she could to get out of this but unfortunately the others all thought it was a good idea. Yelena even turned to Alexei silently pleading for him to step in but instead he nodded and agreed that it is a good idea.

This happened to be the one time where Yelena hoped Alexei would develop some sort of fatherly instincts and go into a crazy fit at the thought of his baby girl being alone with a guy and not just any guy but the fucking Winter Soldier but no Alexei was all for it.

Well screw him.

As soon as they stepped off the helicopter Yelena told Barnes to stay out of her away she wasn't in the mood for social chit out and she most certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with him. Yelena didn't hate Bucky he was more of a pain in the ass than anything they always argued, always competed against each other, and that smirk that damm smirk he kept giving her irritated the Hell out of her.

He is giving her that annoying smirk now as they are pressed against each other in a closet. His back is up against the wall with her leaning into his chest. She tried to wriggle and find other positions but everywhere she went she found herself face first into his chest.

Fuck!

He had the nerve to say this is awkward?

It's worse for her!

Yelena wasn't going to blush or be embarrassed no way not in front of him. She would happily give him a good kick if there wasn't people outside.

Yelena couldn't understand how this happened. Valentina said Helge and his men would be out at a meeting and they won't suppose to be back until the evening so why the Hell have they come back early? She knew needed to contact the others but she feared she would raise suspicion and increase their chances of getting caught.

Yelena shifts and tries to lower herself to the ground but she ends up smacking into his crotch.

Argh!

Just what she needed.

"You can't get enough of me." Bucky smirked down at her.

"Shut up." She whispered. "If those assholes won't outside you would have no dick by now."

"Thinking about how you will handle my dick is kind of a turn on."

Yelena goes back up. She is back against his chest again but at least that's better than his crotch.

"I suggest you sleep with your eye open tonight." She warned.

"Is that your way of a invitation Belova?"

"In your dreams Barnes."

"Would be the most pleasant dream I ever had."

Yelena grits her teeth. This guy does not know when to shut up.

"I knew I should have gone in alone."

"And get yourself killed in the process?" His voice turned serious.

"I can handle myself I don't need a knight in shining armor to save me."

"You got to let us help you Yelena."

She looks up at him and let's out a scoff.

"You mean you want to help me?"

"We're a team yes?"

"Unfortunately."

He sighs.

"Look I get that you hate me..."

"Never said that."

"So you don't hate me?"

"Never said that either."

"You never give me a straight answer."

"Thought you loved riddles."

"Depends on the type." He is looking down at her again. "I do like a challenge the ones where you have to remove it layer by layer."

She raises an eyebrow at that.

"That so?"

"They are fascinating, fun to explore."

"You are a patient one I prefer to go straight for the kill." She nodded.

"Why the rush?"

"Saves the time."

"True but it also kills the enjoyment. The build up, the suspense as you drawing close towards the answer." His eyes skim her up and down. "When you finally get what you want, it is a achievement, all that effort has truly paid off."

Yelena taps his chest and shakes her head.

"Sometimes the big reveal can be disappointing all that build up for nothing."

"I only search when I know it will be worth it."

"How do you know it will be worth it?"

"I just...I just know." He exhaled. His hot breath hits her face.

Yelena did her best to keep her face blank. Judging by the small tug of his lips she knew she is blushing. Damm it she is blushing.

Yelena turns away and looks through the gap. Helge's second in command Boris dismisses the meeting and orders everyone to leave. Moments later Boris grabs his coat and leaves with the others.

Good.

Yelena knew they could leave but for some reason she found herself still in the closet with him. He hasn't attempted to move either.

"Well?" She asked with a huff.

He motions with his hand.

"Ladies first."

She laughs at that causing him to frown.

"Manners will not get you far White Wolf." She slaps him on the arm and steps out of the closet.

"I disagree." Barnes tilts his head. "Got a good view out of it."

The scowl is back on her face again. He chuckles and steps out.

"So where shall we start?" He asked changing the subject.

Yelena ignores him and begins looking through the drawers.

"Quit looking at my ass." She warned him as she shoved the papers out of the way.

He responds with another chuckle.

Minutes later Yelena finds a booklet and picks it up.

"Hey check this out." She turns and finds herself back against his chest.

Yelena growled under her breath.

"Do you mind?"

"You just can't help yourself." He grinned. She glares at him. "What am I looking at?"

She shrugs it off and shoves the booklet in his hands.

"Here might be a lead."

Bucky takes the booklet. He leans against the desk and starts to read it. Yelena's eyes linger on his arms. His prosthetic hand trails along his chin as he studies the writing. His eyes are deep in thought. The White Widow snapped out of her trance when his eyes shift on to hers.

"Looks legit." He then nods. "Good job."

"And I didn't even need you." She waves him off. "I was fine like I said I would."

"You look hot to me."

She gulped at that.

"You look like you need some air?" He added.

"Right? Yeah course. It is quite warm in here."

"Really?" He frowns. "Thought the opposite."

"Cold?"

"Very."

He places his prosthetic hand on her arm to make a point. Yelena shivered at the contact but she didn't pull away instead she looks up at him. His eyes meet hers. Yelena swallows and her mind is screaming at her to back off.

Yelena takes several steps forward.

He waits for her.

She cranes her neck up to look at him. He looks down at her.

Waiting.

Her mind continued to scream no.

He gives her a knowing look.

She presses herself against him.

Still screaming no.

He raises an eyebrow.

She tilts her head.

"Don't make me fucking regret this."

"You won't." He said with such confidence Yelena actually believed him.

That did it.

She shuts her mind down and let's the natural instincts kick in.

Then she locks her lips with his.

He kisses her back.

Yelena wraps her arms around him and pulls him in. Bucky growls and holds on to her tight. The pent up emotions all came flooding out, their desire for each other overrode everything else.

Seconds later they both pull away and gasp for air. Bucky scoops her up by the waist and lies her down on her back on the desk.

No going back now. She thought as he climbs on top of her.

Yelena removes her zip and allows him to pull her suit down. Once that is done Bucky removes his belt and lowers his trousers.

Yelena wanted all of him. She grabs on to his jacket and tugs at it wanting it off. Bucky smirks at that.

"Eager I see?"

"I can easily change my mind Barnes."

"And resist me?" Bucky places his hand on his heart. "That's not happening."

"I'm not like other girls." She presses her boot against his boxers. "You could still walk out of here without your manhood."

"Like to see you try." He challenged her.

She smirks. Her heel digs into him.

"Shouldn't challenge me White Wolf."

"Whatever you say White Widow."

It wasn't long before he started kissing her again. Hot and fierce. She responded with a moan. He pushes his tongue in and rolls it along with hers. Suddenly he pulls away and flips the White Widow on her stomach. Yelena gasps in surprise.

"Assh..." She is cut off as he kisses her neck.

"Hmm." He hummed. His hands move to her ass. He gives her a cheeky slap on the ass causing another gasp to come from her.

"You were saying?" He grinned in her ear.

"You are enjoying this." She replied.

"I did say the wait will be worth it."

"Sorry to disappoint but there's no prize."

His hand goes to her breast.

"Sure about that?"

He squeezed her nipple causing her to moan. She now understood about those rumors of Sergeant Barnes being a womaniser back in the day. He continued to tease her and smothered her with kisses. Yelena tried to stop herself from smiling but she couldn't help it.

"She smiles." He pretends to gasp.

She tried to hide it but he shakes his head.

"It suits you. Its a lovely smile."

There was no teasing he is serious she can tell. That compliment caused her smile to widen.

Yelena then felt the tip of cock pressed against her. He leans forward and brushes the hair away from her face.

"You okay with this?" He asked.

Womaniser but respectful? Hmm?

"I am." She nods to him. She turns her head and smirks at him. "But are you?"

A sharp intake of breath comes from him when her fingers brush against his cock.

"Hard already?" Yelena scoffed. "Has your previous affairs ever got a reaction this quick out of you? Should I feel honored?"

Bucky said nothing.

Yelena then feels his hand circling her entrance.

"Wet already?" He said with amusement. "Has your previous affairs ever got a reaction this quick out of you? Should I feel honored?" He repeated his words back at her.

She inwardly groaned.

Damm.

"I have never met someone like you." Bucky then said. "So feisty so challenging. Did I say I like a challenge?"

"You did. I like challenges too I'm also a gamer."

"Really?"

"Hmm and if you don't get inside me right now I'll set the alarm and ensure Helge's guys find you butt-naked in their office. What a sight that would be."

"Someone doesn't play nice."

"Who said anything about the game being fair." She gives him a devilish smirk. "Now come on soldier boy buckle up."

She pushed her ass against him. He might be on top but she is damm well giving out the orders here.

"As you wish Miss Belova."

Yelena suddenly gasps as she feels him go inside her. Before she could process what is going on Barnes then starts to pound into her.

He went straight into it fast and aggressive releasing all that energy on to her. Yelena cursed in Russian. Barnes pushes into her with full force his cock slides deep inside her. Yelena grips the edge of the desk as he continued to rock her.

"Usually I like to take my time." Bucky leans forward. "But we are on a time limit so..." He kisses her cheek and pulls at her earlobe. Yelena moans with pleasure. She nudges her head and brushes against his growth. "Hmm." Bucky smiled.

Yelena turns and bites his lip. He groans. Yelena raises her leg and strokes his thigh. She pushes her tongue in his mouth and kisses him until it makes them both dazed.

"Yelena." He mumbled into the kiss. "Yelena." He repeated her name sounding more urgent. His need for her consumed him.

Bucky eventually pulls away and this earned another hard thrust from him. Yelena's legs drop and she is back flat on her stomach again completely at his mercy.

He laughs and grasps her ass. He slowly pulls himself out of her then quickly slams back into her again.

"Eбать!" (Fuck) She again cursed in Russian. "James!"

Another thrust.

"Oh my God!" She squealed.

He chuckles.

She covers her mouth with her hand not wanting to give him any more satisfaction but Bucky removes her hand and shakes his head.

"Don't stop." He said his voice becoming breathless. "I like it. The sounds you are making it is...It is so fucking hot and so..." His voice lowers. "Cексуальный." (Sexy)

She held her breath as the words travel into her ear. Hearing Barnes complimenting her in Russian made her suddenly weak to her knees.

Damm him for making her like this.

He is next to her grinning again.

"Bastard." She said but it came out weak and needy. This only made her groan.

His grin widens.

Eventually Yelena started to feel the fire forming at the bottom of her belly. She is close but she wasn't going to beg no way not to him so she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to hold on as much as she can.

"Yel." Yelena can feel Bucky trembling as he spoke. "I need to..."

Oh yes finally! She thought.

If she is being honest she couldn't hold on much longer.

"Fire away White Wolf." She tried to joke but with the burning feeling inside her the joke ended up coming out quite desperate and oh God did that sound like a beg?

Argh!

Bucky increases his hold on her. His strong arms wraps around her. Yelena feels the heat from the flesh and the cold from the metal. She found it disorienting and it ended up driving her over the edge.

Yelena bites down on her lip and stops the scream that threatened to form in case anyone heard. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she let it all out.

Barnes buried himself in the crook of her neck and grits his teeth as he too rode his orgasm out. Minutes later Bucky loosens his hold on her and they both lay on top of the desk panting and trying to catch their breath.

"Damm." Bucky managed to spit out. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head. "That was something."

Yelena does a small nod.

Something they can both agree on for once.

As Yelena gets dressed she turns to the White Wolf and says.

"We never speak of this again what we did does not leave this room understand?"

Bucky nods his face serious.

"I understand."

She throws her backpack on.

"Your dick has survived for now."

"For now?" He raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you saying there will be a next time Miss Belova?"

"I never said that."

He smiles and looks down as he puts his boots on.

"Whatever you say doll."

She glares at him.

"Don't call me that."

He gives her an innocent look.

"Okay."

Yelena rolls her eyes and sighs heavily.

"Come on let's get out of here." She said moments later.

...............

"Oh my God am I seeing things or is Barnes actually smiling?"

John Walker greeted the duo with a big grin on his face.

"Walker." Bucky said formally.

"Hey!" Yelena nods to the other Super Soldier. "We bring gifts."

"Great." Walker nods. "The others are next door."

Yelena again nods. She gives Bucky a small smile then goes and joins the others. Walker's attention turns back to Barnes again. He raises an amused eyebrow.

"What's got you in a good mood Barnes?"

"It's certainly not you." Bucky responded sarcastically. He then turns away and follows the White Widow

Walker places his hand on his chest and pretends to look offended.

"Ouch."

"I knew you would make it." Alexei greeted Yelena with a hug. "Well done soldier." He slaps Barnes on the back.

Bucky forced a smile followed by a nod.

"What did you find out?" Ava asked.

Antonia raises her head and waits patiently for the meeting to begin.

"Yes." Walker enters the room with his hands clasped. That shit-eating grin remained on his face. "What did you two love birds find out?"

Bucky coughs at that.

"Sorry did I say something wrong?" Walker gives a knowing look followed by a smirk.

Yelena felt the blush creeping back again.

Walker folds his arms and let out a "Oooh."

"Let's stick to the plan U.S Agent." Ghost glares at him.

"Yes let's do that." Yelena slams the papers down and begins explaining what her and Barnes have found.

Walker kept his eyes on Barnes.

Bucky is trying everything he can not to look at her ass.

It is very hard not to when her suit is so freaking tight.

Bucky grits his teeth and tucks his head into his folded arms.

Walker grins.

Alexei is oblivious.

When Yelena is done Walker is the first to speak up.

"Fascinating."

He wasn't referring to their discovery.

Bucky wanted to punch him.

"You guys should do more missions together." Walker nods. "You make a good team...Quite a pair."

Another blush went across Yelena's face. Ava seemed to caught on what is going on. She lowers her head and smiles to herself.

Taskmaster continued staring blankly.

Alexei nods along agreeing with the U.S Agent.

"Absolutely."

The bastard is still oblivious.

"I swear to God." Yelena groaned out loud.

"Shut up Walker." Bucky growled.

"I could always be third wheel." Walker offered.

"No!"

"You prefer privacy got it." Walker winked.

"I would prefer to throw you out of the window." Bucky glared.

"I would happily help you do that." Yelena chimed in.

"Okay." Walker raises his arms in surrender. "Look I'm happy for you both I'm serious I'm glad the mission went well." He smiles. "Congratulations I say."

Both respond with an eye roll.

"Anyone want some food? I'm starving." Walker changed the subject. The mischief glint remained in his eyes.

"Count me in." Alexei nods. "Hey Barnes." He puts his arm around the White Wolf. "Did I ever tell you the time when I..."

Bucky tuned the Red Guardian out as the big man led him out of the room. Barnes looks helplessly at Yelena. Yelena gives him a stern look followed by a subtle gesture to his balls.

Right manhood at risk here.

Or was it an invitation?

That woman never gives a straight answer.

Bucky smiles to himself. He is okay with that.

He loves a challenge after all.

The End

[kaiserrreich]

I have to share this fic... it's really good. Alexei II by Cribman // link

Summary: Instead of abdicating for his younger brother, Nicholas II is instead pressured to abdicate in favour of his underage and haemophiliac son, Alexei. With Russia in the midst of a revolution during a war against the brutal onslaught of the Central Powers. The new provisional government must work with the new Tsar and his regent to heal the fractured empire before more damage can be done. With their popularity damaged almost to the point beyond repair. The senior members of the House of Romanov must begin to embrace political reforms to survive the turbulence that is surely to come.