#and the thumb rubbing thing. I could never be a spy. if he did that to me I would start whimpering and blow our cover immediately

[itsnotbird]

On the Run

Civil War! Bucky x Fem! Reader

Non-canon imagine

Warnings: Language, acts of violence, mentions of Winter Soldier Bucky.

Summary: Your domestic life was good with Bucky, that’s because the two of you were skilled in knowing when it was time to move on. Now, Steve Rogers is here to ‘save the day’, and it isn’t what you two needed.

You used lay awake for hours on end at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to any faint noises in the distance.

That was different now.

Your body knew rest, it knew a sense of comfort. Though it took you awhile to achieve it, and though it wasn’t perfect, the peace was all you needed.

Well, peace and him by your side.

The mattress wasn’t necessarily something to rave about, it was small and springy, but it was a bed and it was suitable. The sheets weren’t pillow soft, but none of those small things mattered when you’re twisted together with a man who made you feel secure no matter what.

You wake to the sun shining in from the kitchen window and the sound of the street of Bucharest outside. Eyes opening, you’re face to face with the picture in front of you. He’s painted golden by the sunlight, face relaxed. No night terrors came for neither you nor him so rest was the only thing in the air.

Hair falling across his forehead, you reach to push it back, then trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger. You gently smile, your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“James.” You whisper, trying to softly stir him. “Bucky, the sun’s up.”

You’ve learned that there has to be a gentle approach to how you wake him, anything too hasty sends him into a panic. So that’s why you whisper to him before pressing your kiss to his face.

It’s a gentle kind of love, one that both of you have never experienced before. And after everything, all the things the two of you endured, it still makes Bucky wonder how it could be so easy for you to be so soft with him, to him. In his corrupted mind, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to be roused by you nuzzling against him. But you reassure him every single time that he will never know violence from your touch if you never have to know cruelty from his. Maybe that’s why the two of you are so content in the way you are. You spent your life under the thumb of abusers, now the slice of freedom you have feels like cool water.

Refreshing.

Bucky stirs awake, letting out a soft groan as you kiss the corner of his lips before pushing the covers off yourself.

Those blue eyes open to watch you stand from the bed and stretch your arms over your head, causing the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to ride up past your thighs and flash your underwear to him.

He smiles to himself.

“I have a job to get to in thirty minutes.” You tell him, wandering off into the bathroom. “Nothing illegal this time…I think.”

Bucky rolls onto his back and chuckles to himself.

“It’s still illegal even if no one gets hurt doing it” He reminds, voice groggy.

You lean against the door frame as you brush your teeth, the toothpaste is foaming in your mouth as you mutter.

“I’m simply an undercover…intel associate who makes her living off of knowing things.” You say before going back to the sink to wash your mouth.

“You’re a spy for hire.” He states as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“So are you.” You argue, washing your face. “Don’t be the pot to my kettle, James.”

He rolls his eyes and comes to join you in the small bathroom, pulling sweatpants on as he does so. “To be fair…it’s not like you could go work at the coffee shop.” He says, grabbing your hips as he slides you out of the way so he can grab his own toothbrush.

You hum and pout as you reach for the hairbrush, the one the two of you share because that’s how life is now, sharing things.

“I did apply for the barista position, they rejected me because of my lack of people skills.” You joke.

Bucky looks at you in the mirror, giving you a shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

You study his expression, then turn to face him with a small, hopeful smile.

“Good day or bad day?” You ask, making him stop and face you.

Bucky nods. “Good day.”

One thing you’ve come to learn is bad days for Bucky are common, more common than bad days for you. Every day, the two of you ask each other the same question just to gauge each other’s mood.

And if Bucky said it’s a good day for him, then it’s a great day for you.

You kiss his cheek, making him give you a sideways grin before you go search for clothes of your own. Buttoning your dark cargo pants, you tie up your boots and go to the dresser drawer that should be housing socks and underwear.

Instead, multiple weapons look back at you as you open it.

You place a pistol in your concealed holster, then pull a jean jacket on.

“It’ll take an hour, two at most.” You say, coming over to Bucky as he watches you.

Reaching for his watch on the counter, you set a timer for how long the job should take and then hand it to him. It’s something the two of you learned to do when separating from each other, something that eases anxiety.

Bucky takes the watch and fastens it to his wrist, then tilts your chin up to meet his eye.

“Don’t get hurt.” He states.

“I promise.” You say, searching his nervous look.

“Don’t…lose control.” He adds.

You swallow the scared feeling.

“Never again.”

With that, he kisses you meaningfully.

Intimacy was something the two of you took a painfully long time to get used to. The idea of letting someone that close was a nightmare, and it took weeks and months after the two of you got away for you to determine what feelings were what. So nothing was ever casual, not when the only relationship you have was each other. In Bucky’s mind, once he figured out how to function it, you were the only thing in life that mattered. He can’t express fear or worry or love in words properly, but he knows if he locks his fingers with yours or kisses you a certain way, you’ll understand.

You always understand.

It makes things easy, you do the talking when he can’t and he expresses feelings in ways you aren’t too sure how to sometimes.

“Be smart.” He says when you finally pull away.

At that, you scoff. “I’m always smart.”

- - - -

He’s found that people watching is calming, like it helps reconnect wires in his brain by learning strangers habits.

Walking through street vendors, he enjoys the fact that his mind has taken the day off on torturing him.

As he goes through the produce section, he stops at a kind man’s booth and looks at fruit in front of him.

Plums.

Your favorite.

He remembers all the stories you used to tell him to get him to fall asleep, how you grew up on an orchard, how you spent days wandering through the plum trees, picking the fruit and laying in the sun while sucking the juice.

He has a brief conversation with the kind man and purchases four plums, just because he knows you’ll look at him in adoration when he presents them to you.

Today was a good day, he slept dreamlessly, he woke up to you, he’s out in public and doesn’t feel on edge-

There.

Just there.

Across the street at the news stand.

Bucky sees the man running the stand look at him a certain way, a way he shouldn’t be looked at. Crossing the street, Bucky approaches the news stand in confusion, and just as he makes a few moves forward, the man flees.

The headline on the papers instantly ruins the previous good mood.

The Winter Soldier, accused of a major bombing.

As he rereads the paper over and over in disbelief, the watch on his wrist beeps.

You should be arriving home.

He heads for that direction.

- - - -

You shut the door behind you and toss the keys onto the counter, walking into the bathroom with the intention of taking a hot shower to wash away the stressful job you just completed.

It all went okay in the end, and a wad of cash is in your pocket, making you feel successful, but it was a harder job than anticipated.

You pull the shower curtain back and just as you reach to turn the water on, the energy around you shifts.

Immediately, you pause, holding your breath and trying to listen carefully.

There’s the sound of boots in the kitchen, and you would claim them to belong to Bucky but you know the sound of his footstep, you know the way his energy feels, you know the feeling you’d have if he were on the other side of the door, and it’s a feeling you do not have.

Steve Rogers looks around the small space.

It’s minimal, a hideout he’s imagined in his head with newspaper on the windows and a serious lack of personal touch. He looks at the made bed, then reaches to pick up something that confuses him a little.

Once he realizes it’s a woman’s bra, he instantly drops it in shock.

He moves into the kitchen, and picks up a notebook laying on a shelf next to vanilla wafers you eat when you’re overcome with nauseating headaches and can’t seem to eat anything else.

Just another lasting side effect from HYDRA.

He opens the notebook and immediately notices Bucky’s handwriting. Flipping through pages, he finds a photo taped to a page free of journal entries.

It’s of a woman.

You.

It’s from when the two of you first found the apartment, you’re taping news papers to the glass, looking rather unamused as your picture is taken when you’re just in a pair of boxer shorts and a band t shirt that falls off your shoulder.

You’re effortlessly gorgeous.

Your name is inked under the photo with the date, almost like he put it there to ensure he doesn’t forget you.

A common fear of Bucky’s.

Steve shuts the book with the intention of taking it back to Sam so they can look into who you are and why you’re in the journal. Sam warns him through the earpiece that german special forces were soon approaching, and he responds, saying that he understood.

You pull the gun from your belt and take a deep breath, slowly twisting the door knob to peer out of the bathroom.

Steve hears a sort of rustle, though it doesn’t come from the bathroom, it comes from behind him wear Bucky has joined the scene.

Standing silently, he looks at Steve with an unsure eye, then looks to the keys on the counter and knows that you are hiding out somewhere.

Steve turns to face his once best friend and lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you know me?” He asks him.

Bucky’s heart pounds in his ears as he pushes through brain fog and tries to run through plans in his head. If Steve Rogers was standing in his kitchen, and the headlines say The Winter Soldier bombed the UN, that means he had to flee fast.

“You’re Steve.” Bucky says. “I read about you in the museum.”

You listen closely to the conversation, trying to run through your own plan.

“I know you’re nervous. You have every reason to be…but you’re lying.” Steve says, still grasping the journal in his hand.

That’s making Bucky twitch.

“I wasn’t in Vienna, I don’t do that anymore.” He says, and out of his peripheral vision, he sees you open the bathroom door just a crack more.

“Well the people who think you did are coming here, and they aren’t going to take you alive.” Steve says in a serious tone, taking a step closer.

“That’s smart, a good strategy.” Bucky agrees, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Where’s the girl?” He asks.

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “What girl?”

Steve shakes his head at the lie, then rips open the journal and points to your picture. “This girl, Buck. Be smart about this, I can help you.”

Breathe.

He has to remind himself.

“It would be helpful if you left right now before it’s too late.” He says, setting his things down and taking off his gloves, flexing his metal hand.

Above you, you can hear heavy boots and your heart stops. You push the door open wider, sneaking your way behind the soldier that’s telling Bucky it doesn’t have to end in a fight, that he could leave with him right now and everything would be fine.

That’s when Steve hears the defining click of a gun being loaded.

“Did someone fail to tell you that this isn’t a task for Captain fucking America?” You say lowly, aiming the gun right at the man. Your heart pounds in your ears, adrenaline and anxiety make you feel sick.

Steve gives Bucky a look, then sighs.

“You had to pick a crazy one?”

Bucky shrugs.

You circle Steve, coming to his front to let him see the angry look in your eye. “You want to see crazy?”

Bucky hooks a finger around your back belt loop and pulls you to him, muttering something in Russian that Steve doesn’t understand. Whatever is asked of you, you look up at him with a slightly scared look. Bucky just stares back at you, giving you a slight head nod, encouraging you silently. That’s the only reason you turn your back on Steve and rush to the closet, grabbing your back pack.

“Buck, I came here to help.” Steve reasons once he’s recovered his shock.

“Leading special forces here doesn’t seem like helping.” Bucky states.

“It wasn’t me who did that.” Steve reasons.

That’s when agents invade the apartment.

It’s a fight, rough and seemingly never ending, and the entire time that you’re trying to escape, Steve is there, trying to reason with Bucky.

“James.” You shout as you’re struggling to hold your own against the three officers you keep dodging.

Immediately, he finds you, ripping the men away from you. Once free, you’re trying to make it down the stairs of the apartment building, but there’s no escape from the troops that are after you.

Barely processing what’s happening as Bucky breaks the glass of the stairwell window, he’s gripping your hand tightly and coaxing you to jump, falling a very far distance to a rooftop. It probably would hurt a whole lot more if Bucky didn’t break your fall.

Eyes squeezed shut as you roll off of him, you pant with gritted teeth. “This is going to bruise.”

“Walk it off.” He says, helping you up.

As the two of you start running, Bucky suddenly falls behind. You look over at him, only to see him battling a…

Cat?

Panicking, you shoot just above the figure, startling it enough to refrain from clawing Bucky’s throat out.

Jaguar hero? Panther man?

“Here kitty kitty.” You call, gaining the enemy’s attention, drawing it to you instead.

“Jesus, who is this chick?” Sam asks Steve as they start to join the scene.

Steve jumps from the window you did moments before. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out!”

Adrenaline is pumping through you, blocking out the crippling fear that this could end badly. There’s a sliver of hope that this would be like the times before on the run, where you find some place new to be from. You and Bucky dodge all the threats, having a shared mindset on just keeping the other alive.

You’ve been in bad situations, but as the two of you end up surrounded by agents and police on the freeway, you think this is far by the worst ending to come of things.

So much for a good day.

And now everyone is being handcuffed, including Steve and the man-bird he has as a sidekick.

Why are all the jungle animals after you today?

Your knees are kicked out from behind you, a man grips your hair and shoves you to the ground, causing you to yell out.

“Let her go!” Bucky shouts from beside you as he himself gets detained. “She had nothing to do with this.” He argues, desperately trying to get them away from you.

“James, what did you do?” You grunt, cheek pressed to the ground, looking at him in the same position.

“Nothing!” He argues. “Just do what they say, it’ll be okay, baby.”

“He bombed the UN.” An officer says, tone angry.

“He can’t even make toast without burning it- ow! I’m really not into hair pulling.” You seethe.

The adrenaline that was once keeping you going has worn down and you’re shaking on the inside as you’re shoved into the back of a military truck.

Your leg bounces up and down, and if his hands were free, he’d stop the motion.

It’s silent, the two officers sitting in front of the two of you stare.

“You still having a good day?” You ask Bucky.

He looks over at you with an irritated look, not irritated with you of course, just in general. “No. This is a very bad day.”

“Don’t speak to the prisoner, ma’am. He’s a threat.” The younger officer says to you.

“This guy’s a threat? He puts spiders outside instead of killing them.” You say with a tone of disbelief.

Bucky says your name as if to tell you to not waste your breath.

You don’t listen of course.

“Hey, why am I not a threat?” You ask.

“You didn’t bomb the UN.” The man reasons.

They’re still stuck on that.

“Maybe I did. You’re not an expert, you weren’t there. Now, I’m not gonna admit it because I know how you narcs work, but I’m going to make you wonder.”

Bucky starts to laugh before the second officer orders the both of you to be quiet.

- - - -

Of course they separate you.

Of course they lock Bucky in some kind of inhuman looking box to make sure he can’t escape and of course they throw you into a room with nothing but a table, two chairs and a surveillance camera.

You try to get out of a good twenty minutes, then scream at the camera for answers, shouting questions.

Steve stands in the office and watches the monitor, eyes flickering back between your live meltdown to Bucky who sits still in his confinement and doesn’t do anything.

“Who’s she?” Stark asks, curious at the scene.

“That would be the side kick.” Sam answers, chuckling as you lunge one of the chairs at the camera.

Natasha joins the men with a file in her hand.

“This is all I could find on her.” She says, handing the folder to Steve.

He reads the information, then gets some sort of clarity.

“I want to talk to her.” He says.

“Absolutely not.” Shannon immediately says.

“She’s how we get through to him.” He argues.

There’s a moment of uncertainty, because the last thing they need is to get into more trouble.

But they do it anyway.

You’re sat in the corner, head in your hands, trying to keep your thoughts straight.

You weren’t a huge fan of being locked in small rooms, probably because a life of confinement is pretty much all you knew.

There’s a sound of the doors electronic lock being opened, and in comes the man you’d rather not see.

Immediately, you stand with your guard up.

“You going to try and shoot me?” Steve asks.

“You took my guns.” You simply say.

Shanon stands guard as Steve comes closer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but believe me when I say I just want to help.”

You laugh, looking at the floor as he continues to talk.

“Is there anything you can tell us that will help his case? Where was he today? Yesterday?” Steve asks, and you glare.

“You want the play by play? Seriously?” You scoff. “Fine. I woke up at eight o’clock, I went to work and left him in the apartment that your guys ruined-”

“They aren’t my guys.” He clarifies.

“-and my guess is he went into the city. I came home and found you rudely invaded my home.” You say sharply, taking a step away when he comes another foot forward.

“I came to warn you that they were after him. To be fair, I didn’t know you existed.” Steve tries to reason, but you just laugh.

“He must’ve forgot to include it in his letters to you, sorry, he’s been a little busy trying to piece his mind back together.” You spit. “The entire point of laying low, is to not let people know you exist, and we were doing a pretty good job at it.” Your anger rises, and your eyes keep flickering back to the woman at the door and wondering if it’s locked.

You could take her, she’d be easy.

Steve grunts in frustration. “Clearly not well enough that special forces found you.”

You lash out. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been found, but we could’ve had a plan if you didn’t butt in. We could’ve already been on a train in the time it took you to try and reason with him.”

Steve huffs and rubs his temples. “If you would’ve come with me, you wouldn’t have had to run. I could’ve helped you.”

“That’s what you don’t get!” You shout. “We have been fine for two years, we had a life, we had a plan for every situation and we didn’t need you. Now look what you’ve done! He’s getting psychologically evaluated, when everyone knows he’s not going to pass whatever test they have for him.”

Your chest heaves as you try to not let your voice crack.

You’re deathly afraid. All the images of lazy mornings and creative dinners flash before you and there’s that overwhelming thought that you’ll never know that peace again.

“I know you’re scared.” Steve says a little softer now. “But if you cooperate-"

The power goes out.

Just like that.

Emergency lighting flickers on lowly, and there’s a moment of silence before the walkie Shanon wears goes off.

“Everybody, get eyes on Barnes, now!”

Wordlessly, Shanon turns out of the room, causing Steve to follow. Though they shut the door behind them, they fail to realize the lock mechanism isn’t going to work now that everything’s fried.

“Idiots.” You huff, flinging the door open.

You run down the halls until you come across the office where they took any belongings you and Bucky had.

You were going to find him and the two of you were going to find a way to get out of this hell. Grabbing both back packs, you try to go towards the direction everyone is fleeing from, knowing that’s where he’ll be.

Maybe that’s the same agenda Bucky has, or more like the agenda the winter soldier has as he’s triggered to take over. He should have known better, that man claiming to be good knew all the right words to get his brain to switch over into some kind of kill mode. He fights his way past everyone who tries to stop him, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss, like he’s supposed to be searching and finding someone. You. That’s it, that’s what he needs to do next.

He stops anyone who comes after him, on a mission to retrieve you.

You burst out of a door, looking around for any signs of him.

There’s many bruised people on the ground, trying to get up and recover.

He had to be close.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, backing up, you go to turn and run, but his large figure stops you.

“Bucky.” You gasp in relief, immediately handing him his pack. “We have to go, I think we can-”

He grips your wrist, not tight enough to harm, but tighter than he would ever grab you.

You meet his dark eyes and your face pales.

No.

This can’t be happening.

“James.” You speak, though he doesn’t answer, just stares right back at you.

The word is hot on your tongue and it tastes like anguish as you say it. “солдат?”

Soldat.

That, he answers to. With a tug of your arm, he tells you to follow, giving you no time to process anything. Though Bucky has told you many times that he isn’t to be trusted like this, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t going to harm you, not when he’s shoving anyone out of the way and guides you to the roof top helicopter pad.

He sits you in the passenger seat of the air craft.

“пребывание.” He orders, then goes to the other side and somehow manages to get the helicopter roaring up.

You watch Steve rush onto the pad just as the two of you pull away, he runs after you, trying and failing to stop you.

You look down as you get higher and higher, and no time is wasted, you’re being flown far far away.

He doesn’t utter one word, and you aren’t sure if you should either. Trusting him is all you can do.

About an hour later, when you’re far enough away from city limits, the helicopter is being landed in a clearing.

Even as you’re being pulled out of your seat and he grabs his backpack, he doesn’t talk. Walking fast to keep up with him, you follow him for a mile until you stumble upon a bus stop.

He sits you down, then tells you to stay.

He stands and sweeps over the surroundings.

“Soldat.” You say, clenching your hands at the odd place you are put in.

You didn’t think you’d have to experience this version of Bucky again.

Now you have to figure out how to make it go away.

He turns to look at you, blankly.

With a calming breath, you command him to sit. When he does, you try to ignore the ill feeling it gives you, a cruel remembrance of how perfectly trained they had him.

“You have to go away.” You say and it confuses him.

“I will stay with you.” He says.

“You don’t need to.” You reassure.

His brows furrow. “You are my mission.”

“Your mission is complete, well done.” You encourage, grabbing his hand in yours.

He looks at the contact like it’s so foreign, and your heart aches.

“Do you understand? Your mission is complete, your service is no longer needed.” You say, searching his eyes for the light that slowly returns as this soldier sinks back into hiding.

He takes a large breath and shudders.

Then his eyes are frantic and a little confused.

“James.” You speak, reaching to hold his face in your palms. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“What- what happened? Did I- what?” He frantically says, trying to process everything.

“You didn’t do anything extreme.”

He tries to manage his breathing, then examines you fully, making sure there are no cuts or bruises on your skin.

“Hey.” You coo softly, hand on his cheek. “I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

There’s a sense of relief in his eyes, that’s when he pushes his forehead to yours in a painfully human embrace. You push his hair behind his ears, breathing in when he breathes out.

“I’m sorry.” You say, meaning it. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

He tucks his hand under your hair, bracing on the base of your skull.

“This isn’t on you…we just have really bad luck.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against his. “I guess we really aren’t done with being on the run.”

The two of you sit just like this until the bus pulls up beside you. Then you find a seat in the back and lean against the window while Bucky leans against you and keeps a watchful eye of the bus.

“What about the Netherlands?” You offer into the silence, twisting your fingers into his.

“You’re wanted all over the country.” He reminds.

Sometimes the world just wasn’t big enough when your face is on ‘be on the lookout’ posters.

“Norway?” He suggests.

“You really want to go back there?” You raise a brow at him.

“…Scotland?”

You think for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, Scotland will do.”

[jimmyspades]

"I was taken by Somali pirates last March, spent three weeks in a shipping container. The first two were a nightmare! The third one was actually quite pleasant. Even so, that won’t happen again." THE BLACKLIST 1.03 "Wujing (No. 84)"

[blvdprn]

— GLOOMY STALKER

idia shroud x dom!male reader

somebody has been following you around, but every time you look behind you all you were able to find was an empty space. that is until you cornered the perpetrator and he had nowhere else to go.

nsfw — handjob, grinding, consent IS there it just wasn’t mentioned, stalker!idia, self-deprecation (it’s idia guys), popular!reader, reader is kinda into it, semi-public?, no actual sex

wc: 1,024

Again, just like every other day, the feeling of eyes following your figure accompanied you everywhere. It’s been weeks since this started. The irritation on your face whenever you felt the unknown presence made your friends concerned, worriedly asking if you were alright. You always made sure to tell them “Yes, everything’s fine, I just haven’t slept well.” At some point, they knew that was a lie, but they kept asking the same thing, hoping you’d tell them the truth.

One day, you had the great idea of separating yourself from your friend’s side. Your lack of presence goes unnoticed, for a short while, that is. And while they were running around like headless chickens trying to find you, you were already far gone, almost sprinting to an abandoned hallway —one that held rumors of ghosts haunting it.

Hiding behind an old, and dirty human-like metal armor, you waited until you were able to hear the footsteps of the one you were excited to catch. With their back turned toward you, all you could see was that they had their hood up, blocking their hair from view. They were also skinny and quite tall, but their hunched shoulders made them look smaller.

With them looking the other way, they didn’t notice you inching closer. Now, with you a couple of feet away from them, you could hear their heavy pants, almost like they weren’t used to running a lot.

‘Unathletic.’ You noted.

Hurriedly, you took long silent strides, slamming your left hand over their mouth while the other arm wrapped around their waist, dragging them back into the quiet corner.

Turns out, the somebody was the resident's gloomy house warden. He’d been following you around like a lost puppy, either by looming over your shoulder or by watching you through the hallway cameras. That would explain why he followed you in here. He didn’t know about this place, seeing as there were no cameras for him to use.

For weeks, he tried hard to get rid of his crush on you. Often spying, he hoped that he caught a slip in your persona, thinking about how nobody was that perfect. Sometimes, Idia wanted you to catch him, to reveal an awful side of you so the one-sided crush he had would forcefully fade away with the humiliation you would surely show him. After all, he was nothing but a gross otaku. An ugly loser virgin that was nothing compared to you.

This is why when he ran after your silhouette, the last thing he expected was for a deity like you to do something out of a hentai.

Which is what brings you to now, hand deep in somebody else’s pants, his face buried into your shoulder.

Your dick was hard, begging for some attention. Right now though, you were too busy making the third-year moan in pleasure, seeing as he’d never experienced something like this with somebody else.

“Mmh…” Idia let out, biting your shoulder with his sharp teeth, making you hiss at the pain.

“Tch,” you clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Don’t hide your moans, you don’t deserve it after what you did.”

He whined in embarrassment, reluctantly releasing your shoulder from his shark-like teeth. Instead, he tried to stop his sounds by thinking of something else, but that quickly failed when your thumb rubbed around his tip.

“Ah!”

You huffed. “Pay attention to me. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Mmm— ‘M sorry..”

Your remaining hand then went inside his pants, grabbing the base of his cock. Rubbing it up and down, the other twisted at the top, your wrist aching a bit with all the movement.

“Ngh! Ohhh!” With Idia’s face in clear view, hood down, you could see the way his hair changed from blue to pink, eyes rolling back a bit.

‘Shit, he’s so cute.’

Not being able to take it anymore, you pulled out your hands and released his dick. Grabbing him by the waist, you turned Idia around so his face was against the wall, back arched towards you.

“O-ow.”

Quickly, you resumed what you were doing.

With Idia’s ass facing your direction, you pushed your hips against it, instantly liking the way his round ass and both of your pants created delicious friction. Rolling your hips and grinding, you saw the way Idia struggled with deciding on what to do. On one end, all he wanted was for your hands to jerk him off until he couldn’t cum anymore. On the other, he wanted and craved the way the outline of your dick just barely rubbed in between his ass.

Gosh, he couldn’t believe this was even happening. How could someone like you do this with someone like him? Were you not disgusted?

“What did I say about paying attention?” you groaned, increasing the pace of your thrusts and hands.

“S-sorry didn’t mean to.”

Hips shaking, you knew Idia was close, the twitching of his cock and the way his hair flared up gave it away. As if it wasn't enough, his moans and whimpers also grew in volume, and you saw how Idia’s nails scratched the thin wallpaper in front of him.

Your grinding against him turned rapid and damn near savage. One of your hands slid down, playing with the heavy set of balls below his dick. Not even five seconds later, Idia let out a pleasurable scream, feeling his orgasm come from the set of skilled hands that were still working.

With Idia’s hot cum all over your palms and fingers, you rutted your hips against him. Letting out a fat load inside your underwear, you could do nothing but wish that it was instead inside your stalker’s hole.

“HaaaAh— Please, it h-hurts!”

‘Oh shit.’

You forgot that you were still fisting his dick.

Hands instantly letting go, you had to wrap your arms around his waist so he wouldn’t collapse onto the floor. All you could hear were his loud gasps, echoing around the empty hallway.

Later on, you’d come to hear about a new set of ghost rumors. Ones that contained weird noises coming from the hallway you two were in.

notes: idia is so cute i need to give him a sloppy handjob and hear him cry about it. 😕

[hansensgirl]

summary. | The mob boss has an alternate way you can pay off your debts.

prompts. | Ari Levinson + Mob Boss + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” (credits to @celestianstars for inspiring this prompt) + Innocence, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Ari Levinson x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, mob stuff, age gap, abuse of power, power imbalance, pet names, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking (ari), drinking (ari), debts, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

The weight of the debt sits heavy on your shoulders, dragging you down. You find it hard to breathe as one of Ari’s associates leads you to the leader’s office. You note that the man doesn’t keep a hand on his gun as usual. You clearly aren’t a threat—what could a little thing like you do to the big, bad mob boss?

Ari welcomes you in and ushers you to sit wherever you’d like, and you relieve your shaky legs when you sit in front of his oak desk.

“Do you need anything to eat or drink? I can make some coffee or tea,” he offers. “N– no, thank you, sir,” you nearly whisper, scared and, therefore, quiet. Ari gives you a smile as he rubs his beard, flashing the tattoos, scars, and rings that decorate his hand.

“Shy, aren’t ya? Don’t worry. I don’t bite unless you ask me to,” he chuckles, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. You can spy smoke swirling from an ashtray, a cigarette freshly put out sitting inside. 

“So, what did you need to talk about?” Ari starts for you, and for a second, you forget why you’ve come here. The debt. A few beats of silence pass as you try to formulate your thoughts, and Ari watches you intently the entire time.  “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely,” he eventually adds. 

“S– Sir, I never knew my family owed you money,” you begin, taking a deep breath. “Of course you wouldn’t, baby. That was many years ago, and I doubt an innocent thing like you knows what goes on around here,” he grins.

“Yes, well, I was hoping I could have some more time to pay it off. I don’t make much at my job, but I promise I’ll get you your money back,” you explain, hands flying out of nerves. Ari hums as if considering your offer. 

“The interest is a bit much, but I can handle it. Please, I just need some more time,” you plead, and you wonder if you’ve spoken too much. Or perhaps your request is too outlandish. Either way, you worry that you’re doomed. 

There is more silence and then a deep sigh from the burly man before you.

“You make a good case for yourself, pumpkin,” he tells you. You look at him, raising your gaze from your lap, where your thumbs twiddle. “But now that I think about it, I really don’t need your money. I have more than enough of my own, anyway,” Ari snickers.

You force a smile. He mirrors it, but the mob boss’s seems genuine.

“I– I’m sorry, sir. I don’t quite understand,” you admit to him sheepishly. Ari coos at you. “That’s alright, bunny. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to pay the loan back,” he says, and you’re filled with elation.

You could nearly jump for joy, but you know you should restrain yourself in front of the city’s most dangerous man. Instead, you settle for grinning until your cheeks hurt and giggling. “Oh, my. Thank you so much, sir! That means the world to me—you don’t understand,” you cheer.

Ari chuckles at your happiness before the smile on his face fades. “But that doesn’t mean you can just walk away freely, baby,” he tells you, and you can feel your bubble bursting. “Don’t worry, your punishment won’t be anything bad. In fact, you’ll probably end up loving it as much as me,” Ari continues, and he stands up.

He walks towards you and kneels in front of you. “You’ll be my perfect little plaything for the rest of the year. No ifs, ands, or buts. Unless you want me to add to your debts… Increase your interest?” Ari threatens, and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Good girl,” the older man coos. “I’ve been dying to have you on my arm, angel.” 

[lunajay33]

Both❤️‍🔥

Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, they wanted you, but will they have to fight for you, who will you chose maybe both?

~Threesome

•Masterlist•

You were sat in the watch tower with your binoculars looking out by the fences for any danger, as you were looking around you noticed Daryl and Rick in the field and god did they make me feel things, Daryl first caught your eyes with his mysterious quiet guy act, and then when he’d talk to you with that deep voice and the way he’d look at you made your knees weak like nothing you’d ever felt before but then…….

There came Rick Grimes, that sheriff outfit and the way he took charge of the ground had butterflies erupt in your belly and now you were drooling over the two men constantly especially when they’d be hard at work outside with the sun beating down on them, their tan skin shimmering with sweat god it was so hot

As you were fantasizing about them you hadn’t noticed they were looking back at you, obviously you were spying on them, which made them smirk, when you noticed what you’d been doing you quickly moved the binoculars down and climbed down the tower, once you got to the bottom you were met by those devilish men you’d think about late at night

“Hey darlin” Daryl said as he leaned on the wall next to you as Rick was on your other side trapping you

“Hi” you said timidly

“You have a nice look there, have your eye on one of us sweetie?” Rick asked playing with a strand of you hair

You could feel what was happening in your panties, these men really did things to you, you wanted them to do unspeakable things, they were a bit older than you but you were 22 you’re a woman who needs some strong men to break you out of your shell

“Maybe” you said biting your lip

“Oh really, and which one would that be peach?” Daryl asked as he ran his hand down your waist pulling your shirt a bit lower

You didn’t say anything to distracted by the hands roaming your body

“Come on baby, who do you need?” Rick whispered in your ear

“Mmmmm, I need you both” they looked at you with the look that made you knee weak and your heart pump faster

“What do ya say?” Daryl asked squeezing your hip

“Please, please I’ll be good” you whined feeling the fullest affect of these men

“Mmmm I think we should reward her don’t you think Daryl?” He asked as they looked at each other smirking

“Ya I think she does” Daryl took your hand dragging you up the watch tower as Rick followed

Daryl laid you down on the mattress Glenn and Maggie dragged up here, they looked down at you as they continued to remove their shirts and pants leaving them in boxers and god just from the outlines they were big, it was mouth watering

Rick kneeled on your left as Daryl was on your right as they gazed at you body, Daryl pulled you shirt off as Rick pulled down you tight jeans leaving you in your pink bra and panties

“Oh baby were you planning for this?” Rick asked as he ran his fingers higher up you thigh leaving goosebumps in its trail as Daryl couldn’t rip his eyes from your boobs

“Was just waiting for the day that it might happen” you said rubbing your legs together for some friction

“Here we thought ya were a good girl” Daryl said as he unclipped your bra leaving your chest bare as Rick tucked his fingers in the band of your panties ripping them off, now completely nude, this is new to you so you weren’t sure what to fully do especially with two hot men

“What’s wrong baby ain’t ya want this?” Daryl asked as he licked up your stomach to your chest

“Yes oh god yes it’s just……” you gasped out as Rick ran his thumb against your clit

“Just what baby?” Rick asked as he rubbed faster

“I’ve never……you know, I don’t wanna be bad” you admitted making them both stop

“Really a pretty lil thing like ya ain’t ever been touched?”

“All for us now aren’t you baby?”

“Yes I’m all yours, both of you, just teach me I want you guys to feel good too”

“Oh peach we’ll feel good don’t worry ‘bout that” Daryl smirked as he started to suck on you boob as he ran his thumb over the other

“Mmmm Daryl” you moaned right before you felt something wet flick against your clit making you almost scream, bucking your hips

Everything felt so good, Rick fingers digging into your hips trying to keep you down, both their tongues on you made your head all hazy, it felt so good you didn’t think it could get better

Then you felt fingers enter you curling in and out and it pushed you over, screaming out from the pleasure that coursed through you, your legs shaking from how hard it hit you

They pulled back looking at your shaking body as you huffed out of breathe

“How do you feel baby, ready for the real things?” Rick asked pushing your hair back

“Yes please I want more”

“Who first darlin?” Daryl asked as they both stripped themselves of their boxers as their dicks smacked against their stomach, and damn were they packing, Rick had his red angry tip, long and white, and Daryl’s was thick and veiny but still long

“I want Daryl first” you basically whined spreading your legs open, Daryl dropped himself between your legs, gliding his tip up and down your folds pushing hard against your clit

Rick sat up closer to you as he pumped his dick in his hand at the sight of his best friend pushing into you hearing the pop of his dick stretching you out for the first time, you were up on your elbows looking down whining at the stretch

“Mmmm it’s so good, I don’t know if….fuck if I can take it”

“Just breathe darlin, I’ll get it ta fit” Daryl said as you calmed down so he could slowly push all the way in groaning

“She tight Daryl?” Rick asked as you squeezed his thigh

“Damn right, so tight she’s suckin me in, she’s perfect” he said clawing at you legs burying his head in your shoulder breathing you in

“Ya ready?” He whispered in the husky voice

“Yes be careful please”

He started off slow, pulling back until slowly pushing all the way back in till you were fully comfortable with his length, you were a moaning mess but felt bad for Rick so you snaked your hand up his thigh gripping his dick and started to pump it, running your thumb over his slit ever so often causing his to hiss

The noises coming out of all three of you was damn near pornographic, hell this was a porno two sexy men screwing a virgin but god did you love it

“Am I doing good?” You squealed when Daryl hit a certain spot

“So good baby, fuck I’m gonna cum” Rick groaned as he started to thrust into you hand soon after cumming all over your hand, he sat back huffing as he continued to watch Daryl fuck you

“Ya close peach?” Daryl asked as he sat back up and putting your legs over his shoulders perfectly hitting that spot making you screaming feeling that pleasure build in your belly again

“Yes Daryl I’m about to cum keep going”

Rick started sucking on your boobs as Daryl begin to quickly rub your clit finally pushing you over the edge, squeezing around Daryl’s dick feeling him fill you up as he groaned trying to be quiet

You were hazy again the pleasure making you extremely tired but the after wave felt so good, you actually had a threesome

Daryl pulled out as you all watched his cum leak out of you

“Rick don’t think she can take two dicks in one day” Daryl said as he spread your legs wider seeing your red puffy clit

“Next time baby you’re all mine”

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.2<-

Guys this was my first full spicy story lmk if I should do a part 2? Also lmk where you guys are reading from, I think most of my readers are international!!

[writingsbychlo]

lazy sundays | azriel

summary; you and azriel spend a lazy sunday together.

word count; 3507

notes; just a cute little thing. like, sickeningly fluffy, you will absolutely need a dentist appointment after reading this. based on this little dash conversation between me and @acourtofwhatthefuck last sunday

Stretching your arm out to the other side of the bed as you woke, your sleep-muddled brain could still process the coolness of your mate's side of the sheets. Long abandoned, not surprising. He was always such an early riser, even on the days that he called a lie-in. By the warmth of the sunlight and the placement of the rays across the room leaking in from the crack in the blinds, you’d guess it was early afternoon. 

Just how you liked your Sundays.

There were tendrils of smoky shadows twisting around your body, skittering upwards toward your face as they realised you were awake. One coiled happily around your wrist, swirling up your forearm, another brushing lightly over your cheek before moving away, and you stared up at the ceiling. Children were playing outside in the streets, soaking up the cold winter sun, trudging through snow and relishing in the freedom of childhood. Maybe one day, your own children would do the same. 

Rolling from the sheets without bothering to straighten them, the air in the house was warm, no doubt Azriel’s doing, the cracking of the fireplace from the living room evident as you padded out of the hallway, tugging one of Azriel’s baggy, wing-accommodating hoodies over your head to cover your nightgown. 

You found Azriel in the living room, exactly where you expected him to be, sprawled out on the deep couch, wings drooping behind him, brushing the cold tiles of the floor as he focused on his book. Your favourite pair of his sweatpants sat low on his hips, pale grey and practically threadbare after all these years, leaving every lean muscle and taut line of his chest on display for you. You bit your lower lip, and he chuckled, never looking up from his book.

“Are you going to just stand there, staring, all day?”

Finally, shining hazel eyes left the pages of the book and moved up to meet your gaze, filled with love behind those thick frames, and the amusement in them was evident when you shrugged. “You look like a piece of art, how can I not?”

“Well, luckily for you, my love, you get to touch the art on display,” He raised his brows, just a fraction, something halfway between a smirk and a smile on his lips. He parted his arms, moving one hand with his book, the other patting his chest softly. “Come here, lay with me.”

Your feet were moving before you even needed to command them to do so, the shadows swirling around you both growing closer and closer, until the small swarm he’d sent to watch over you once he’d left the bed was finally reunited with the pack as your knees bumped the edge of the couch. Settling down between his parted legs, his arms closed around you as your cheek met his bare skin, heart thudding slow and steady beneath it, lulling you into a tranquil relaxation the way it always did, the way he knew it did.

“Do you want me to read to you?” He mumbled, lips brushing the crown of your head as his free hand wove into your hair, letting you twist and turn until you were truly comfortable.

“What are you reading?”

“A book that Nesta gave to me.” That sent a spike of amusement through you, an equal one coming surging down the bond to meet it, lighting your chest up from the inside out. 

“You’re reading a smutty novel?” You chuckled, feeling the rumble of his laughter meet it underneath your cheek, and the hand that wasn’t holding the book continued to rub at your scalp, fingertips pressing and kneading in a way that made you sigh. 

“Not quite. This is a spy book, something she said she’d once read in the human realms, before any of this, and when she saw it again, she said it reminded her of me. I figured the least I could do was actually read it.” He huffed a little, using the thumb holding the book open to try and turn the page single-handedly, and after watching him struggle for a moment, you took one side of it, holding it and turning the page, before letting him take it again. 

“Is it any good?”

“It’s… something.” His avoidance of the question made you grin, silently waiting for him to finish his chapter, a finger tracing over the hard and defined lines on his chest, making him twitch and shudder every so often when your nail would scrape. Goosebumps were sometimes left in your wake, and when he finally untangled his hand from your hair and marked the book to put it down, his hands returned only a moment later, skating up your sides lightly. “You make it extremely hard to concentrate, do you know that?”

“I wasn’t doing anything!” He raised a single brow, smirk forming on his lips as his hands hovered over your sides. 

“Oh, really? So, you weren't tickling me, on purpose?” His fingers game down, skittering along your flesh in ways that made you squirm and giggle against him, twisting in his grasp as he mercilessly teased you the way you had him, until you breathless, cheeks warm, curling back into him, now with your back to his chest instead. “Are you hungry?”

“For what?” You muse, twisting your head up to kiss at the underside of his jaw, his cheek, anywhere you could reach. Azriel merely hums, arms tightening a little around you in a warning to behave. “I’m craving something sweet. Maybe some cookies?”

“With dark chocolate chips?” There was a note of excitement to his voice as he spoke, and you realised that it wasn’t you who was craving something sweet, but in fact, merely a feeling being blasted down the bond to you since you’d woken up. “And those little caramel chunks mixed in?”

“Of course, would I ever make them any other way?”

You received a kiss to your temple in agreement, before the arms were unwrapping from around you, Azriel shifting below you, prompting you to stand as he followed. He was barely a step behind you on the way to the kitchen, falling into a quick and simple routine as he began pulling familiar ingredients from the cabinets as you sourced equipment, laying them all out in the order he knew you’d need them. 

As you began to cook, he leaned back against the counter behind you, watching you work while slowly humming a song, one you’d only recently heard, played by a band along the Sidra when you’d been walking home from dinner only a few nights ago. 

Cool fingers swept gently over your skin, brushing hair back from each side of your neck until it fell down your back, one finger twirling around it all to keep it out of your face, a loose ponytail held together only by his touch. Warmth pressed up along your back, soft lips skimming your neck, and you titled your head to grant him further access. 

Those featherlight brushes became delicate kisses, placed along your neck and shoulder, chaste affection in the quiet of the kitchen; only occasionally interrupted by the rustle of ingredient bags, the clinking of the mixing spoon on the bowl, or the slightly louder screams of in joy of the children playing in the streets below your apartment. Wrapping his other arm around your waist, you were held securely to his front, that humming reverberating through your entire body as you slowly scooped out the mixture, placing dollops of it onto a baking tray, trying to ensure all portions were equal.

“I love you.” The words came as a whisper, and you smiled, continuing your work, using the edge of your finger to wipe clumps of batter off of the spoon and onto the tray. 

“You’re just saying that because I’m making you your favourite cookies.”

“Maybe..” He teased, but he gave a light tug to the hair he was holding back out of your face, a bite left on your covered shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shudder, laughing against him at the act. “Do you remember why these are my favourites, though?”

“Of course, how could I possibly forget that moment?” You finished scraping the batter out, using as much as you could, before using your hips to nudge Azriel back and away from you, a groan falling from him at the press of your ass against him through those sinfully thin sweatpants, and you chuckled, leaving his embrace. “Don’t you start that, you’re the one who wanted cookies.”

“Hush.” He scowled, taking the tray that you pressed into his hands, and wandering away to the oven he’d already pre-heated, setting the tray inside carefully. You hopped up onto the counter, licking the excess batter from your finger, and watching the shift of his back muscles, the twitches of his wings, as he moved, dreamy sigh unstoppable as it left you. “Are you staring at my ass again?”

“Oh, because you're so innocent of that one.” 

When the oven gloves were stacked neatly back on the counter, bowls and dishes cleared away to the sink, he finally turned to face you, a wicked glint in his eye. “We have twenty minutes to kill.”

“We do indeed, what could we ever get done in that time?” He rolled his eyes at you, stepping forwards, hips sitting snugly between your parted legs as your arms looped around his neck, playing lightly with the grown-out curls at the base. “You need a haircut.”

“I thought you liked my hair when it was longer?” Warm, calloused hands were smoothing up along your thighs, before finding a resting home on your hips, his forehead coming down to rest on your own as your noses bumped together. 

“I do, but this is getting a little bit too long. I feel like I'm kissing Cassian.” He bit your lower lip, a soft growl coming out when you gasped, and you squeezed him in a little tighter to you. 

You leaned forward, trying to catch his lips, but he pulled back, making sure he was barely a centimetre from you, but not close enough. “Point taken, hair cut tomorrow, then.” His hands squeezed at your waist, smirk on his lips, before he was finally closing the space. “Kissing Cassian, don’t even think it.” He mumbled, before his lips were pressing against your own feverishly. Your body sparked alight, the intensity of his kiss sent you reeling. 

Love and passion and tension, all pouring through his lips, through his heart into your chest, enough of a feeling to make your head spin and you grasped onto him. Fingers pressing into his skin, his hands bunching into the material of his own hoodie as it lay over your body, beginning to make you feel overwhelmingly hot underneath. 

He sensed it, as he always did, cooling his kisses just a fraction, pulling back and using his nose to nudge your chin up, pressing sweet kisses along your jaw, until he was nuzzling into your neck, tickling you once again, until giggles were spewing from your lips in a way only he’d ever been able to make you do. 

“I wish all of our days could be like this.” It was a deeper confession than you’d expected, the fingers tangled in his hair loosening to free one hand, slipping it to his cheek, pulling him back from your neck to catch your eye. 

“Az..”

“I just miss you so much when I’m away, I want nothing more than to be here with you every day, like this, living in this little bubble with you.” His head twisted, fleeting kiss left on your palm, and your fingers twitched against his face in response. 

“Not every day can be a Sunday, Az.” His brows furrowed a little, and you pulled him closer, dipping pecks to his lips which he reciprocated happily, sinking into your affections once again. “Some days, are Mondays. The days when I know you’re going away, that feeling of a brand new week beginning, knowing how long until the weekend comes, when I have to pack you up and send you off with a kiss on the balcony.”

“I don’t get weekends like that.”

“It’s a metaphor, Azriel.” You tutted at him, your lips barely brushing as you spoke now, whispered words to only ever be shared between the two of you. “There’s Tuesdays and Thursdays, the middle days, where everything just feels numb, you get on with your jobs but nothing feels special. That’s what it's like when you’re away from me. The days where I get up and go to work, everything is quiet, and it kind of feels like the end is never in sight.”

His hands flexed, an apology echoing down the bond.

“There are Wednesdays, halfway through the week, when you know you’ve made it this far, you’re over the peak and on the descent. Those are the days when you send word to me, that everything is going well, when you tell me you’re okay, you’re coming home soon. The days when you’re away on missions for Rhys, when you finally get that breakthrough, and you know you’ll be home to me soon.”

“And Fridays?”

“Fridays are the days you come home. The days when I can feel you getting closer to me through the bond, when I know you’ve arrived, when I finally see you land on the balcony and step back into my arms.” He hummed, lips puckering in a request you indulged, meeting him in the middle as your mouths fused together once again. 

Sun-rays cascaded through the room, warming you from the outside as his love warmed you front he inside, tingling all the way down to your fingertips like it was the first time he’d kissed you, a sensation that had yet to fade, and you hoped it never would. “What does that make Saturdays, then?”

“Saturdays are the busy but fun days, the days when we go for dinner with your family, when we go out for dates and walks around the Sidra, when we babysit Nyx, when we paint with Feyre, when we visit other courts for fun, not work. Saturdays are the days when we go out to Rita’s with more, we dress up and get tipsy and come stumbling home together laughing.” Affection and nostalgia filled you, whether it was from you or him it didn’t matter, it was simply there, shared. “Sundays, are for us. Days for just me and you, just me and you, here, with nothing to do, nobody to see. No responsibilities. But we can’t have Sunday, without all the other days.”

“When did you become so wise, my lovely mate?” Azriel pushed back tendrils of hair to sit behind your ears, gazing at you fondly, and his shadows copied the touch, tracing toward you along his fingertips, swirling lazily between and around you both.

“I’m probably just stealing all my wisdom from you.” Your hands rubbed over his heart, bare skin warmed under your fingertips, he was always so warm. “So, do you want to tell me about your book?”

His eyes rolled at that, shoulders sagging a little in disappointment, and you felt him release the tension, the slight bud of guilt he’d been building, as he got distracted. “It’s.. irritating me.”

“Why, my love?” You gave his own petname back to him, and felt the ripple of a skipped heartbeat from him. 

“Because, they’re not good spies!” The words burst from him, bringing a grin to your lips as he frowned., brows dipping together in frustration only a true bookworm could understand. “They’re so obvious! It’s all public fights and big fires and making a scene. That’s not how you spy, these aren’t spies. I should know! It’s terrible, not at all a true representation of the job.” He followed his outburst with a rough exhale.

“Oh, no, my precious spymaster, your reputation will be ruined.” You giggled at the teasing, and he produced a noise somewhere between a scoff and a growl, only making you laugh more at his displeasure. He leaned in, tongue flicking in a lick over your lips before he was silencing you with another fiery kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tangling with your own, and laughter died down into a panted moan instead, swallowed by him as he insistently pressed on. 

“Much better, I like you moaning for me than laughing at me.” His words made you shudder, and he pulled you closer to him, ass hanging off the edge of the counter and legs tightening around him, chests pressing together, heaving with desperate breaths sucked in through needy kisses, heart beating frantically against one another’s chests. 

The thread in your chest was thrumming, glowing golden behind your closed eyes as his lashes fluttered against your cheeks, your fingers tightening in his hair. Your free hand ran down his arm, slowly, squeezing at the thick and solid muscles as he flexed them, until your fingers were wrapping around his wrist, ready to tug his hand up a little higher than your waist. His fingers loosened in the material of your stolen jumper, ready to follow your lead, before the timer on the over let out a sharp beep. 

You jumped apart, his back stiffening slightly at the sudden intrusion, before relaxing, threat gone, shadows darting out in jagged lines to flip the switch off and silence the beeping. He was panting, gasping breaths sucked into his lungs, pink splotched across his tanned cheeks, eyes wide and dark, hair messy. One of your favourite looks on him, truly. His hand did slide up, your fingers slipping from his wrist as it bypassed where you’d intended for it to go, rising to cup your jaw instead. 

Running his thumb over your lips, he wiped away the residual slickness there, likely swollen and red still, like his own, and he licked over his lower lip, letting it drag through his teeth for a second. “Always so distracting, my love,” He mumbled, and you pressed a kiss to the pad of his finger before it slipped away to rest on your chin, a gentle smile on his face. “How do you still do this to me, after all these years?”

“You still have quite the effect over me too, shadowsinger.” He smiled, and you pressed in, close enough to feel his heartbeat on your chest once again, pressing a kiss to the corner of his eyes, the wrinkles for his smile deepening when you moved to the other. His hands locked onto your waist, lifting you down so your toes could touch the tiles once again, and you hissed at the cool feeling, surging up your body and clearing your mind of the fog. 

He left a final kiss brushed on your head, before retrieving a plate from the cupboards, and you slipped the oven mitts over your hands, securing them before opening the door. Warm air rushed out, coating your front as you pulled the cookies from the oven, resting the tray on top. 

Together, you plated them up, letting Azriel carry it, leading you back through to the couch the two of you had abandoned to bake, placing them cookies within reach on the small table, beside his evident failure of a book. Flopping back down happily, his wings rustled behind him for a second, adjusting to a comfortable position, before he was opening his arms for you, letting you settle once again against his chest. 

You let out a happy sigh as his arms sealed around you, one hand holding a cookie, taking a bite, and groaning happily at the taste. 

“You’re always so warm.” You pressed in as close as you could, revelling in the Illyrian heat running through his veins, designed to keep him warm up in those mountains, and to keep to you warm always. 

“You’re cold?” You only hummed, eyes fluttering shut, surrounded by his smell, his heat, his touch, never having felt more at home. He shifted beneath you, arms leaving you and reaching behind for the blanket sitting along the back cushions, flapping it out and securing it around your bodies. “Better?”

“Better.” He seemed happy with that, pride radiating from in him waves at having provided, and you settled in comfortably. “Will you read to me now?”

“Of course, but I warn you, this book is wholly underwhelming.”

“Then we can laugh about it, together.” He picked up the book, opening it to the marked page and cleared his throat a little. Only moments later, the timbre of his voice was echoing around the room, deep and lulling as he read the words, tone painting a perfect picture in your mind. So many times you had also wished you could spend more days like this than you got, but your lives didn’t allow it. However, when lazy Sundays like this came along, it made them feel all the more precious.

[madhatterbri]

Warning | Hangman A.P. Part 2

Summary: You keep getting better every times you post something. I was wondering if you could do a part two to warning, where matt uses y/n to get adam to join for blood and guts but it back fires or whatever you want.

Author's Note: Thank you for your kind words. ❤️ I hope I continue to do you proud. I stopped it short because I kinda wanna see where they go with this. I hope it's okay.

Requested by: @smallestsnarkestgirl

Warning Part 1

Hangman Masterlist

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps @hotgirlgraps

Matthew and Nicholas stared at the small screens before them. As EVPs, they wanted to make the locker room a safer environment. What better way to do that than by watching the video cameras backstage? It wasn't spying, Matthew told himself, more like ensuring employee safety.

"Isn't this stalking?" Nicholas asked as he pressed the buttons on the keyboard. The screen changed to another camera to find Hangman. They wanted to find more information on him.

"It's not stalking at all when it is for the safety of your company. The government does it to us. We are just making sure AEW is safe while putting on a great show," Matthew insisted.

"You are right. Thanks for correcting my ass, brother. I'm just still a little hot about what Hangman did to us last week," Nicholas admitted. The attack on them was unwarranted in their eyes.

Matt smiled at his younger brother. He clicked on the arrow and paused. He found their guy. Well, more like their Hangman.

In the shot, Hangman was pacing down a hallway. He seemed to do that a lot lately. Breathe heavily and just rant to himself about revenge. The moment his eyes locked on Y/N, he stopped. "I think we are going to get just what we need to get Adam on board for Blood and Guts,"

Their eyes glued to the screen when they saw Hangman and Y/N together. She appeared nervous around him, yet something about him softened. He visibly calmed down.

"Hey," Hangman greeted. He knew he burned his bridge with her. The cowboy was so wrapped up in his revenge with Swerve that he treated her horribly. Distraught, she was now aligned with Matthew and Nicholas Jackson.

"Hey yourself," Y/N smiled, but the same emotion couldn't be shown in her eyes. She was sad to see him like this. Despite her harsh worda about him to Matt, she still cared about him. Maybe he would always have a place in her heart.

"Long time no see. How have things been?" He asked, unsure of how to start the conversation. Hangman knew what he wanted to hear. Nothing could have prepared him for the next words that came from her lips.

"Are you going to hurt me too?" She asked. Y/N bit her lip and looked down. Once she looked at him again, tears were falling down her cheeks. Her mouth trembling. "Like what you did to them last week?"

"I would never hurt-"

Hangman couldn't possibly finish the sentence. He knew he hurt her before. Hell, this conversation was probably hurting her now. All the crying voice-mails and texts on his phone pleaded for him to stop his downward spiral against Swerve.

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek. Her thumb rubbed against his skin. He leaned his face to her hand and closed his eyes. "I am glad your suspension was lifted. Just please take care of yourself, Adam. That's all I ask,"

Adam simply nodded. His skin burned when her fingers left him. She took one last look at him and left him alone. Hangman ran his fingers through his hair. His pacing and ramblings would continue on.

"And that is how we get our old friend to join Blood and Guts," Matthew smiled and high five Nicholas. The older Jackson brother stood up and reached inside his pocket. He dialed Y/N's number. "Hey, we are going to need to see you for a meeting right now,"

Matthew heard the knock on the door. He decided to let the person outside wait a few. Their plan was coming along perfectly. During their meeting with Y/N, they told her she was going to be suspended or possibly fired for interacting with someone who publicly disparaged the EVPs last week.

Word traveled fast in the locker room. One person told another, and that person told another, and soon the news made it to Hangman. They watched on the cameras as he stormed to their office door. He looked as heated as ever.

"Go get the door, Nicholas," Matthew instructed. Nicholas followed his brother's orders. Actively avoiding another elbow shove, Nicholas took several steps away from the door.

Hangman walked in, fuming. His fists clenched as he stood in front of Matthew's desk. "Suspension or firing? Y/N didn't do anything wrong!"

"She didn't read the employee handbook. She had a situation last week and now one this week. We have to show the locker room that we don't play favorites," Matthew defended his previous actions.

"If this is one of your bullshit-"

"You want to help her? Fine. Join us at Blood and Guts, and she keeps her job," Matthew interrupted. Adam paused. So this was another one of his bullshit games.

Nicholas walked next to Hangman. "Just one match and she gets to remain an employee at AEW,"

"That's right. We will even remove the write-up from her file. It would be like it never happened," Matt offered and reached out his hand. Hangman glared at his hand yet shook it roughly. Matthew grimaced from the pain.

"One match, and then I'm no longer your puppet. That goes for the both of you," Adam growled and side eyed Nicholas.

Matthew could barely hide his enthusiasm. He walked around the desk and placed an arm on both of their shoulders. "See how easy that was. It's like the band is back together,"

Hangman shoved his arm off. He slammed the door closed behind him.

"Can someone find Y/N? Even the EVPs make a lapse of judgment sometimes!" Matt announced to one of the crew members.

[drmflm]

home sweet heartbreak | l.hs

summary: you were supposed to be in then out. but the prince has other plans—plans to give you an evening you would never forget, filled with flowers, food, and a bleary black swan mask.

pairing: heeseung x gn!reader (ft. jake and txt’s taehyun, soobin, + yeonjun)

word count: 4.0k

genre: angst angst angst with comedic breaks in between

au: cinderella, spy, royalty

rating: pg-15

warnings: grief, mentions of death, infiltration (which is treason ig?), unhappy-ish ending

event: this is for @kflixnet's fic exchange event!! hi @flwoie!! i hope u enjoyed this fic 🥰 it was so much fun getting to know u and to become an engene as part of this!! <3

note: blame sona for the ending. I WAS PLANNING to make it happy but she wanted sad so. you get sad 😊 oh also, the reader uses a fake name for the first bit of this!!

When the red carpet rolled, you strode.

“Don’t make eye contact with them. Remember, you’re above them,” the radio buzzed as you straightened up and handed the knight your invitation nonchalantly, trying not to look at him. “Good job.”

“For the announcer dude, just slip him the 20,000 bill we gave you earlier,” Soobin said over the radio as you neared the stairs where the steward would announce your arrival.

You couldn’t speak without sounding suspicious, and most especially could not in a setting such as this, so you hooked your thumb into Taehyun’s right pocket and offering a small bow to the small lens tucked into the clip of his tie.

“He’s not very good at his job,” Soobin replied, and you could nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “The guy’s a good friend of Jun’s, doesn’t mind repaying an old favour for a small price. He’ll let the knight know not to go snooping.”

“Are you sure he’s loyal?” you whispered to Taehyun, rubbing his arm softly. “You know that everybody always has their own agenda.”

He nodded, lips pursed as he stared at you for a moment too long through his mask and looking away. “People will always bow to money, and we have a lot of it.”

People loved gossip, but the only thing they loved more than that, was money itself. The more money you had, the more likely you were to succeed in this society. Did you agree with it? No. But could you escape it? Unlikely.

So you just took advantage of it instead.

“I do hope they’ll have those cookies again,” Taehyun sighed, looking at you with an overly wide smile and a scrunched eye smile. “What were they called again? They were absolutely divine last year at the Prince’s private ball.”

Establishing status, a commonality among the ultra-rich you noticed. Of course, Taehyun was less ostentatious about his wealth than others, but he couldn’t allow others to find him weak or subordinate in any way. He represented his family at any gathering, and at this one in particular, he had to establish himself as one of the highest and most important businessmen in the country.

And the easiest way to do that? Just tell people you know the royal family and you had it in the bag. You might not know it, but people always listen to power. It was evident in the way that the people in front of you, upon hearing Taehyun’s words, permitted you to skip ahead with 90-degree bows, until you reached the steward who would announce your arrival.

As the couple before you gave him their card and stood in the front, Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, where you sank your fingers into his pocket and curled it into your fist. As he let you go, you folded your hands in front of you.

He handed you your name slip nonchalantly as the steward announced Lady Jieun and her partner, before you slipped the man the bill, and quickly made your way to the front.

“Kang Taehyun of the Kang Family Corporation and his date, Kim Iseul,” he announced, before gesturing for you to make your way down the stairs.

“People are nosy gossips, but Taehyun’s always been known to go out sporadically—dating rumours have been confirmed and denied so many times that nobody really cares anymore,” Soobin said over the radio. “There might be some articles about it but nothing big.”

“I doubt anything will really make it to the media,” Yeonjun said over the radio as well. Taehyun tightened his grip in yours. “They’re more preoccupied with Lee Heesucks instead.”

You would’ve laughed at the name if it weren’t for the fact that you were there, in the limelight of a dozen of the ultra-rich. You didn’t stand out—not after Yeonjun and Soobin worked hard to make you look perfect—and you hoped you wouldn’t for the remainder of the night.

Everyone was clad in dresses made of silk, suits made of the finest fibres, and every mask you saw was more and more garish the more you looked. Some were animal themed, dipped in gold and silver, others were clad with diamonds and precious gems.

But it was all a feast for the eyes, more so than the heart. When you noticed how careless and shallow most of the people were as they picked glasses off trays, took one sip, then discarded them on the same tray, you felt yourself grow nauseated at the fact that you were sharing the same air as them.

“How long will we be here for?” you asked quietly once he guided you to the dance floor and began waltzing you around.

“Just long enough for Taehyun to look around. We need to get you out before midnight, otherwise it’ll look really suspicious,” Soobin said, and you tried to control your expression as Taehyun swung you around at the lively music. “Hopefully you can blend in, but if things go awry or Heeseung notices you, we need you to distract him as best you can, for as long as you can.”

You smiled, but it fell when he added, “but under no circumstances, Y/n, do you go approach Heeseung yourself. This is dangerous territory right now. You need to be careful.”

You nodded, smiling as the song ended and the trumpets blared. All eyes turned towards the staircase, where the steward would announce the next arrival.

Beside him, stepped out one a man clad in an all white suit, traces of gold wrapping up along the cuffs of his sleeves down the length of his arms, his torso, his legs. They caught the light and the gaze of all who looked at him—towards the diamond that rested on the centre of his chest.

His face was shrouded by the black swan of his mask, feathers trailing gracefully along his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were sweeping across the crowd, looking, searching for—

“Introducing His Majesty, Prince Heeseung of the Lee Family!”

“He looks like an overcooked chicken in that mask,” Soobin grumbled, but you could barely hear him over the enthusiastic applause.

“Okay Y/n, now that Heesucks is here and no longer in his room, Taehyun is going to start the operation now. We’re going to turn off your radio so we don’t distract you or worry you. If that sounds good turn off the camera.” Yeonjun said over the radio.

While Prince Heeseung descended, and all eyes were focused on him, you reached up to the centre of your mask and—under the guise of fixing your mask for anyone looking—pressed one of the stray diamonds by your nose.

“Okay we’re shutting it down in 3…2…1–“ Beep.

At this, Taehyun nodded at you with a smile before slowly, quietly slipping away.

The food was good, you noted as you had your fifteenth helping of the same treats you were eating all evening. They were these small, star-shaped cookies with an orange frosting and sprinkles—so many sprinkles.

Ever since you were a mere child, you always loved the taste of tangerines, of ripe oranges. They reminded you of your mother who had grown an orange tree in your backyard in respect of her good friend Seri—and always made the most delicious freshly-pressed orange juice.

So while you were caught up blending in on the dance floor, you indulged yourself in trying some cookies, reminded of your mother, the sweetness of her oranges, and the sweetness of your childhood.

Things changed a lot the last couple years. Things too big to say in only a few words. Oranges were banned, oranges were a fruit never allowed in your household. Not with their history of heartbreak. Not when oranges really only grew where the heartache wandered.

You wished Yeonjun would come back on over the radio. You wished someone would say over the intercom that this was stupid, that the two of them should just make up.

But you couldn’t. Not when you didn’t know the truth.

The whispers grew louder, more boisterous around you. You heard him before you saw him. The cookie in your hand felt like a deadweight the closer you felt him step towards you.

“May I ask who I owe for depleting the Solarian Cookie supply?” he asked, coming up beside you as he grabbed the one out of your hand. “I thought everyone knew that these are the cookies I fancy the most.”

Jerk. “Well, pardon me Your Highness, I was not aware these cookies were reserved,” you replied. “Please excuse my careless mistake.”

“Mistakes,” he corrected, before taking a bite. “You made more than one, as you ate more than 10.”

“And how can you be sure that, that was me?”

He shrugged, “intuition I guess.”

“But intuition isn’t facts,” you argued as you shoved another one into your mouth.

“I suppose it isn’t,” he mused, before turning to face you, and you instinctively turned in response. “But I think it is when it comes to my cookies.”

“What a lame excuse,” you laughed, before you remembered. You were not supposed to talk to him. Absolutely not. He was dangerous.

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You couldn’t betray your family.

“Just this once I’ll let it go,” he said, staring at you intently. “You remind me of a friend. But no more cookies, do you understand?”

“Yes Your Highness,” you replied, bowing your head.

You waited for him to walk away, but his white shoes never left their place in front of you. You tentatively looked up. He stared down.

“Sorry if I did not make myself clear, I would like to grab my cookies, so would you mind moving aside?”

At once, you immediately moved aside, feeling the hot course of humiliation travel through every fibre of your being until the man grabbed his cookies and left. As soon as he got far enough away, you let out a silent, soft breath. The whispers around you grew louder.

“He can be quite intimidating, can’t he?”

You looked to your right where a man greeted you. His attire was different—with zigzagging lines of bronze up and down his maroon suit, lighter coloured streaks in his hair, and round circular specs on his face. Clipped to his tie was a flag you had never seen before.

“Indeed,” you replied, looking at the flag once more before making eye contact. “For a Prince he is quite cold.”

“Don’t let others hear you say that,” he said, and you could hear an unusual variation in his accent. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Sim Jaeyun.”

“Kim Iseul,” you replied before raising an eyebrow. “And what might you do, Mr.Sim?”

“I am part of the Prince’s Foreign Affairs team,” he replied, smiling at you warmly. “Translating for him as well as offering advice on how to best interact with certain cultures.”

Like Hueningkai, you realized bitterly. This man was his replacement.

He noticed your gaze on his tie, “Ah, this is my Australian clip. It was given to me by my father before I left to come here.”

“How lovely. It must have been a long journey. Do you ever miss them?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes. But I don’t really have time to miss them since I’m here.”

The conversation took a deeper turn than you were expecting, one where you felt the time go by faster, less forced. Jaeyun was like you, he wasn’t from an ultra-rich family, and he was much more down to earth than the rest of the people there, including the Prince himself.

“Why is the Prince like that, if you don’t mind me asking?” you asked after a while. You two had relocated to a table off to the side. “Why’s he so cold?”

He thought for a moment, “There’s a lot of things. But, as you may know, the Prince has been waiting, a long time, for his beloved brother to return to him.”

Beloved?

“His brother?” you asked, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

He just shook his head, “it’s of no importance, Iseul. Just know that his anger was not directed towards you, but rather, towards himself.”

Prince Heeseung feeling anger at himself? That seemed very unlikely.

“Ah, Jaeyun. Just the man I was looking for,” the Prince’s voice rang out as he neared you. Upon seeing you he halted. “Why are you with them?”

“I think you may have mischaracterized them, Hee,” was his reply as he stood up. “Don’t worry, I’ll go check on him, you have a good time. This is your ball after all.”

With Jaeyun’s departure, it was just you and him, face to face. When you bristled at the silence, he took a deep breath before sitting next to you.

“I apologize for my unsavoury behaviour earlier. That was unbecoming of me and I hope you can forgive me,” he said, not making eye contact as he fiddled with the strings of his bow tie.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you replied, looking at him. “Sometimes things are just as simple as having a rotten day. I get it.”

“Where’d you hear that from?” he asked, head lifting up to meet your gaze. “That expression?”

You blinked at him, “‘Having a rotten day’? That was a phrase my mother told me. Why?”

“No reason,” he replied, holding your gaze. “What is your name?”

“Kim Iseul, Your Majesty.”

“What is your real name?” he pressed, leaning towards you.

“That is my real name,” you replied, leaning backwards slightly.

“Pleasure to meet you, Kim Iseul,” he said at last, before offering you a hand. “May I have this next dance as an apology for my behaviour?”

You looked at him, trying to find any ingenuity. “But you’ve already apologized.”

“I know, but I want to.” He didn’t want to. He was just trying to be nice. But you entertained the thought, of just this once, under a mask made of midnight, that it’d be okay to pretend like nothing had ever happened.

“Okay.”

That was the moment you knew, as he swept you away, that you would never be able to truly resist him.

“For a mysterious partner of Kang Taehyun, you dance quite well,” he complimented as you waltzed to the palace musicians and basked in the limelight.

“Well, I only learned from the best,” you replied, gesturing to him. “You are a fantastic lead yourself.”

He smiles, “Useless flattery, Iseul. I’ve been ballroom dancing since I could walk.”

So have I. “You can tell, your footsteps are so graceful.”

“Again, useless flattery…” he paused, “Iseul.”

You maintained eye contact and he held you a few moments longer, even after the song ended. You knew people were staring, probably talking about how Taehyun had abandoned his date and said date was all over the Prince and—

“Why?” you whispered tightening your hold on his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you as soon as I laid my eyes on you?” he asked, eyes piercing through the thin veil of his mask, right into yours. “Y/n,” he breathed, leaning in closer. “Nothing, not even Time itself, could ever make me forget you.”

“You’re not supposed to know I’m here,” you sighed, letting go and breaking apart. “Nobody is. I came because of the masquerade. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“That’s not true,” he replied, grabbing your hand and leading you away. You ripped it out of his grip but followed him out the hall anyways. “You came here for a reason. Why? If not for me, why?”

“It was me, all me, Your Majesty,” you replied, fingers trembling in his hold. “I forced Taehyun to come here with me.”

“Stop lying to me,” he growled, once you the ballroom doors had shut. “Tell me you missed me, even for a second. Tell me you regretted it just once.”

You hesitated. You couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders slumped. “I see.”

You blinked back tears as you cleared your throat, “Both of you made many mistakes. The only thing I regret is not hearing both sides of the story. But Hee—I don’t hate the fact that you were crowned and he wasn’t. I hate the fact that I had to choose between you.”

“It wasn’t even my fault,” he sighed, before he reached up and took the mask off his face. Exposed, you saw every facet of his face, crafted by God and shimmering with tears. “I didn’t want this either.”

“What did you want?”

“To be with you,” he breathed, coming closer and grabbing your hand. When you didn’t yank it away, he grabbed the other. “I would have been happy a commoner Y/n, so long as I had your hand in mind. Please, believe me Y/n. Can’t we pretend, just for a few hours, like nothing had changed, that you never left?”

“Won’t that just hurt us both in the end?” you asked, pursing your lips and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Can you promise me you’ll let me go when the evening ends?”

“If that’s what you want,” he sighed, tightening his hold before letting go and turning around to brush away his tears. “But please. A chance.”

And, just like when he offered you a dance, you took his hand, and let him lead you away once again.

Him, unmasked and exposing the imperfections of his face, the vulnerability of the beauty mark just along his jawline, the soft curls of his hair.

He was a black swan with a pretty smile but you—you were a gold shadow, there was nothing more to you than the shallowness of your own desires, of your own shadows, your own betrayals.

You couldn’t look him in the eye, not because he was above you, but because you stooped down to a level far too low for him.

He led you to a small, circular door at the end of a never-ending hallway, before fishing out a familiar key from around his neck. This was what you were searching for. All this time, all of Jun’s anger and heartache, was because of this key.

The key to his—and everyone else’s—dreams.

He took it off his neck and inserted it into the lock, before the lock clicked open. He led you in, where your eyes immediately latched onto the blooming flowers and the beautiful tree of tangerines before you.

The small, secret garden was a masterpiece; the way the flowers framed the tree was deliberate like the swing gently rocking in a cool breeze, thousands of stars the only witnesses to this small sliver of true, untouched beauty.

This. This was what Yeonjun always wanted.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked after a moment, carefully stepping towards the flowers. “I never showed this to you when we were younger, because I always wanted to surprise you when we grew up. I wanted to save this for the day when I’d get down on one knee and—propose, Y/n. I bloom only for you.”

You heard it, you couldn’t see it though, as the darkness shrouded his face. You only saw the shadow of his tears in the dim light of a dozen fairy lights. Sanctuary. That’s what this was. Sanctuary.

“You always said you’d find your sanctuary. Is this—“

“This became it when I lost you,” he whispered, before stepping into the light, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the swing. “Y/n, all I could think about since you left has been all my mistakes, everything I ever did in the past. Just please—for one moment, let me pretend like all of that never happened.”

“I can’t, Hee,” you whispered softly. It was a sin to ruin the sweet silence of the night. “I can’t because this is what Yeonjun always wanted. How can I take that away from him? He always wanted his mother’s garden, he wanted to be with her, cradling her grave.”

Heeseung’s head dropped as he let go of your hands. You sat down on the swing, while he gently pushed you back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I kept the key because I didn’t want anybody to ruin it. I didn’t want the landscapers to come and bulldoze it down, I didn’t want anybody finding Seri’s treasure and ruining it.”

You were quiet for a moment before he stopped pushing you, “was that why you came here? For Yeonjun?”

You nodded, “Yeah I guess so.”

“Nothing else?”

“I—“

“Y/n, we’re back. We need to get you out of there are soon as possible. Security has caught on that we’ve infiltrated the palace. Beomgyu, the idiot accidentally stole too many cookies and Jun’s friend slipped to the knight so now Head Guard Yang is currently trying to get rid of Taehyun. Meet him out back by the rosebushes ASAP!!” Soobin said over the intercom, startling you out of whatever Heeseung-induced self-doubt you’d put yourself in.

This wasn’t about you. This was about Yeonjun.

He looked at you with something heavy in his eyes. He heard Soobin, both of you did.

“Go,” he whispered, leading you out and ripping the key from his neck. He placed it in your hands. “Get out of here Y/n, I don’t want to see you ever again. I’ll hold the guards off for a few moments. Just go.”

“Hee, I’m sorry,” you started, but he held up a hand.

He slid the mask back over his eyes, “leave. You don’t belong here. Nobody belongs here. I thought that after Seri died, I lost a mother, but I didn’t think in my wildest dreams, that I would also lose the only people who had ever meant something to me.”

His lips curled up, “You changed Y/n. I hope you forget about me quickly. Taehyun looks like a nice man. He looks like he cares about you. Tell him I say ‘Thank You’.”

He pushed passed you and started running down the halls, running from you. You heard the radio buzz, you couldn’t do anything but stand there, paralyzed at the gravity of what you had done. At the person you lost and continued to lose.

Every step felt heavy, and you eventually ran, but you couldn’t walk, you couldn’t be left to the mercy of your thoughts—not when the key sat heavy in your palm, and the tears even heavier in your eyes.

You couldn’t because when Taehyun carried you down the steps, when you got into the car and sped out somewhere under the veil of midnight—nothing could fill that uncomfortable emptiness on your fourth finger, that empty void that nestled in your soul.

Even seeing Yeonjun’s face light up at the key in your hand, or hearing the rest of the guys celebrate, nothing could bring you back.

Not when you knew the life you had left behind. Not when you knew, you made the greatest mistake of your life.

Because you wouldn’t be able to forget him—a black swan who brightened your life with glittering jewels and twinkling eyes, the man who hoarded cookies and smelled like oranges: sweet, homey, and heartbroken.

copyright ©️ 2023 skyjoong. all rights reserved.

[sholiofic]

Whumptober day 2: You got away with the crime ...

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife’s in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

700 words, Biggles in the Blue tag, EvS character introspection and all-emotional-hurt-no-comfort. Also posted on DW.

"You are an utter fool, Stalhein. The great spy from the war, reduced to a patsy of the British. I cannot believe you let this Bigglesworth fellow play you so thoroughly. A fool!"

Erich knotted his jaw and turned a look of disdain on Zorotov. "If I am a fool, then so are you," he bit out tightly. "I don't recall you coming off better against Bigglesworth, after all."

He was somehow unexpected for the man's clumsy swing. Perhaps it was the drink, toasting their failures, that had slowed his reaction. Perhaps it was only that, even after all these years, he was braced for blows from the other side but not his own.

In any case, though his reflexes should have been an easy match for Zorotov's clumsy thuggishness, he was only able to partly sidestep the man's fist. He took the edge on his jaw, snapping his head around.

Erich clenched his fist as he wiped the blood away. Almost reflexively, he thought of a dozen ways he could kill Zorotov with simple items in the room, ways to conceal it, hide the body, slip off into the night ... He did nothing, of course.

"You are stupid and weak," Zorotov ranted at him. "You were supposed to be one of the best, or that's what I heard. I suppose your skills have degraded badly since the war."

Taking out his own failures on the nearest easy target, Erich knew. The words of a man like Zorotov were less than nothing, yet somehow, they landed -- without the bleeding barbs of Bigglesworth's quiet condemnation, but but edged nonetheless.

"--Or was it always nothing but the lies of the capitalists and the nobility protecting their own? Soft, weak men, unqualified, raised to positions they were never meant for and lavished with praise for the smallest success. Yes, that's it. I see it in your eyes."

Erich swallowed an angry retort that would have done nothing except make the flight back more uncomfortable. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out onto the balcony of their Kingston hotel.

Although the night was humid, the sense of peace at leaving behind his unwanted roommate brought a small measure of relief. The harbor lights were lovely from above. He leaned on the railing, felt his jaw, and let his other hand drop forward over the rail.

Behind him, he heard Zorotov stomping about, the splash and gurgle of pouring alcohol. It would not be a pleasant evening. Erich thought about going out for a while. He didn't have to go anywhere in particular, just walk about the town at night. He had enjoyed doing that kind of thing, once. Maybe Zorotov would be asleep when he came back.

He raised his eyes to the stars. Beautiful, even now, and tantalizingly almost-familiar in their stranger equatorial configurations. A sparkle of brighter light glimmered against them, flashing rhythmically -- an aeroplane, taking off from the airport below.

Flying away into the night sky.

It must feel fine to be able to do that.

He could not even feel angry about it, merely tired. Bigglesworth was right, he had created his own circumstances and he had no one but himself to blame. It was indeed shameful, and it was no wonder that Bigglesworth had nothing but contempt for him.

Erich rubbed his split lip, winced as it left a smear of blood on his thumb. He could just walk away into the night, he knew.

But a man had to eat. And he had honor, whatever degraded shadow of it remained to him. He had a structure to put his back against. He had people to report to. He had someone to notice if he lived or died, if only to mark it down on a report.

Dreams of running away were a child's fancies. Whatever his failings, whatever his flaws, he could do this, at least. He would do his job, go back and make his report, take whatever punishment landed on him for his failures, and receive his new orders.

When he went back inside at last, Zorotov was in the bathroom. Erich poured himself a drink, sat on the edge of his bed, and drank the bitter taste of the only kind of victory that was still left for him: the knowledge that he would not, at least, let down the people who depended on him by abandoning his duties.

[kissorkill16]

No Backing Down: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Trinity's not backing down without a fight.

Quentin quickly got out of his car and ran to Trinity when he saw her pass by, putting a hand on her shoulder and earning a slap across the face. When Trinity saw it was Quentin, she gasped and stepped back.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!", she said. Quentin put a hand up, "It's alright, I'm fine.", he said, rubbing his cheek. He stopped rubbing it and looked down at the girl, stern and serious.

"But you know what's not okay? You kids deliberately went against my words and sought out to investigate the Forest Protectors."

Trinity's eyes widened, then she angrily looked down at the ground, balling her hands into fists. "Who told you that?", she asked.

"Finch.", replied Quentin, "I had to pry the answer away from her, but she eventually gave in, and I'm so glad she did."

"Look, why do you even care?"

"Because I'm an adult, and I actually know how to handle these sorts of things. You're just children, you've never had to experience things like this."

Just hearing that made Trinity mad.

She stomped at the man, "Handle what? Bad luck? Our loved ones dying for no reason? Pain?Threats? Nightmares? Oh I think my friends would disagree with you strongly.", she said. "Nicky's been spying on a creepy old man for months, Delroy knows secret ways around town, Maritza is a tough fighter, Enzo is an excellent detective, Finch has been swiftly collecting evidence, and I can lead the whole team with barely any leadership skills whatsoever.", she stood on her toes to lean in even closer, scaring Quentin a little bit.

"And we all make it out unscathed."

Then she stood back down to the ground.

Quentin was scared. This little girl was tough, she was unlike any other girl he's seen before, but he was still a grown man, and she was still a little girl. He straightened his shirt and looked down at her, "Yeah, that is until you don't."

He bent down to look at Trinity, "Look, I understand that you want to stop them, and I want to too. But I'm scared that you guys might wind up dead like all the other people who tried to even get close to them. I'm still alive because I'm actually careful."

"So am I, Gershowitz. What's your point?"

Wow, the disrespect.

"My point is that I'm trying to protect you and your friends. If those freaks killed a little girl, what makes you think they won't kill more children like you guys too?"

Trinity's eyes widened.

Killed a little girl?

"What do you mean by killed a little girl?"

Quentin shook his head, "That's not important right now.", he said. "Look, I know you're probably not going to listen to me, so I'd like to make you a deal."

Trinity crossed her arms, "I'm listening.", she said.

"I could be another one of your spies. I could give you information from the sidelines, and whenever you guys are in trouble, I can come drive to pick you guys up. How does that sound?"

Trinity thought about it for a moment, and it did seem like a good deal. Quentin wasn't trying to convince her to give up anymore. Instead, he was just ensuring her safety now.

She extended her hand and shook his, "It's a deal."

Quentin smiled and gave her a thumbs up, walking away. Then Trinity remembered something.

"Wait! What about the little girl?", she wondered.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 1: These Devilish Intentions

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: A brewing situation gives Lucy the chance to prove herself, but only at the risk of her own life.

Word Count: 2,661

Notes: No warnings this time.

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Chapter 6: Black Heart

“Do you think I should dye my hair?”

Tommy looked up from where he’d been rolling a cigarette between his fingers, digesting the report Lucy had just given him on her findings surrounding the man she’d been following for the past few weeks.

“What?”

Lucy twisted a lock of auburn hair around her finger absentmindedly. “If I’m going to be killing and spying for you, it might be best if I don’t have such recognizable features. This,” she raised the curl she’d been fiddling with, “is pretty damn distinguishable.”

Tommy frowned, lowering his cigarette to the ashtray, considering her suggestion. Never before had he known someone with hair quite like hers, the color a deep, rich red. A beacon of bright color amongst the gray smoke and soot of Small Heath. It hadn’t taken long for the red color to become associated with her in his mind. Deadly and beautiful. While she spoke of her hair’s distinguishable features as if it were a curse, he found himself to have grown quite fond of it.

During the past few weeks she had spent on her little spy mission for him, she’d been wearing a black wig to more easily blend in and avoid arousing suspicions. The wig was currently tossed haphazardly onto the table in front of them. Tommy couldn’t say that he would mourn its demise. Seeing her with it on had felt odd; wrong. Like a core part of her was being suppressed. Eyes narrowing, he tried to picture her as a brunette or blonde and promptly pursed his lips at the idea. No; neither of those would do at all. He reached a hand across to lightly take the lock of hair between his fingers. Not tugging, but lightly twisting it.

“Don’t ever dye your hair,” he said softly. “I’ll buy you some more wigs.”

Lucy looked at him with wide, dark green eyes. “Okay.”

He allowed himself one quick moment to rub the soft curl of red between his thumb and index finger before letting it fall and leaning back. It would be pointless to deny that he had grown fond of her. A feeling that only grew with the time that they spent together. 

They were more alike than he could have possibly imagined. The same sorrowful gaze that he couldn’t fully banish from his eyes reflected back at him in hers. The quiet rage at the injustice of the world. The need for the work that they did, lest they be left alone too long with their own thoughts and fall to pieces.

But she was funny, when she wanted to be. In a way that often forced him to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. And she wasn’t afraid of him, not even a fraction. Recently, when it was just the two of them, he felt…lighter. Like he could let the mask he held so carefully in place slip away and just be himself for a moment. No need to guard his emotions so tightly to his chest.

It was no secret that the people of Birmingham all thought him to be a monster. Even his own family was beginning to believe it; convinced that his heart was but a shriveled, black husk inside his chest. That was if it even existed at all.

But Lucy never treated him that way. She saw right through all the barriers and carefully constructed walls around his mind and heart. Somehow, he had managed to convince her of the existence of his compassion. And when she had rested her head on his chest that one time, he just about melted. Wanting to scream, “do you hear it? Do you hear my heart beating, Lucy? Do you hear that all the horrible things you’ve heard about me are not entirely true?”

Coughing, as if doing so could dispel the thoughts muddling his mind, Tommy shifted in his seat.

“So. You’re telling me that they’re all meeting at a pub, every Wednesday, in the afternoon?”

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Those boys that jumped John, the ones I blinded? They were part of the group too,” she tapped a speck of ash from her cigarette into the ashtray. “And there’s something else. They have an informant in the Blinders. I think his name is Jeremy? Tall guy, with black hair and a tattoo here,” she tapped her inner left wrist. Tommy nodded. He knew the man; a quiet soul, often meandering silently in the backs of bars, watching the goings on with shrewd black eyes.

“Anything else?” he stubbed out his cigarette and immediately pulled out another, swiping it along his lips once before lighting it.

“Actually, yeah,” she took a small sip of the amber liquid in her glass. “There’s someone outside of Birmingham supplying them with additional funds. They’ve promised to send them more guns.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. They mentioned letters, but I couldn’t get my hands on any.”

He nodded, eyes darting away from her as he considered. “We’ll need to move fast, before they get their hands on any weapons. Otherwise they’ll be harder to put down,” he spoke more to himself than to her. “I’m calling a family meeting,” he decided, standing and reaching for his coat. “Come on. I want you there.” 

A spark of surprise ignited behind her eyes. “You do?”

“Mhm,” he simply hummed.

“Are you sure that’ll be alright?”

“I’m the boss, Lucy. It’s alright if I say it is,” he held out a hand to her, those small, pale fingers sliding into his. Her touch was cold against his skin as he helped pull her to her feet. Shrugging her coat on, Lucy followed him out of the Garrison and into the smoky Birmingham air. It was beginning to get cold; he suspected that they would be getting their first snowfall within the next week or so.

“Family meeting,” he said to Polly, having barely even stepped inside the house. “Now.”

Slowly, the rest of the Shelbys began to make their way into the kitchen. Tommy leaned against the wall, lighting another cigarette while he waited. Lucy hovered near him, hands braced behind her against the counter.

“What’s she doing here?” Polly asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, give it a rest, Pol,” Arthur groaned, slouching over in a chair. 

“Lucy has provided us with invaluable information about the men who have been resisting us, Pol. She deserves to be here,” Tommy said sternly. Polly’s lips pressed together in a thin line, but she conceded with a slight lowering of her head.

“So what’s all this about, Tom?” John asked. Tommy sighed heavily, rolling his head back.

“We have a problem.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

She watched quietly from her spot braced against the kitchen counter, the Shelbys all looking to be about five seconds away from strangling each other. Polly and John were shouting, Arthur glowering with his arms crossed over his chest. Ada was very passive aggressively spreading jam across a piece of toast. Tommy was pinching at the bridge of his nose, clearly nursing a headache. 

Watching them now, it really was a miracle that they had gone as long as they had without one of them murdering the others.

The argument had broken out shortly after Tommy relayed to them her report; that the faction working against them was soon to come into possession of the equivalent of a small armory from an anonymous benefactor in London, and that if they wanted to stamp out this growing rebellion against them before it became uncontainable, they would have to make their move. Fast. 

“How many men are we even talking about here?” Polly asked, rounding suddenly to Lucy.

“No more than ten,” she said softly. “There are others who have become interested in their ideas lately, but it’s those core ten, including Jeremy, that are the main source of the problem. You get rid of them, you’ll effectively kill their message.”

“Just pay them off,” Polly said with a frustrated wave of her hand. “There’s no need for such an excessive show of force over ten troublemakers.”

“If you do that, suddenly everyone else will start to wonder if maybe they can get a few extra pounds by roughing up a few Blinders,” Lucy said. “And if you leave them be, their ideas about rebelling will continue to spread. You need to remind the people that this type of resistance isn’t acceptable.”

“So you’re going to just waltz in there and shoot up ten men in a pub on a Wednesday afternoon?” Polly looked at Tommy. “What if one of you gets shot?”

Tommy sighed. “We’ll bring reinforcements. They won’t be expecting it.”

“No,” Lucy’s voice was quiet. “They’ve been looking for an opportunity to take one or all of you out. You walk into that pub, they’ll recognize you immediately, and you’ll be shot on sight.”

“So we send some of our boys instead,” Arthur sat up from where he had been leaning forward against the kitchen table.

“Jeremy will recognize anyone who’s a Blinder the second they step through the door and alert the others.”

“Shit,” Polly groaned, burying her face in her hands, and the shouting began again.

“We need to deal with this now-”

“I really would rather not get shot-”

“Maybe if we try going in from the back-”

“Polly, do you have any good recipes for poison-”

Lucy rubbed at her temple, the voices beginning to overlap and merge with each other into a distant hum.

“Just send me,” her voice was barely even a whisper, and yet they all froze mid-sentence to stare at her.

“What?” Tommy said quietly.

“Jeremy has barely interacted with me. He doesn’t know my face. If he did he would have sounded the alarm as soon as I stepped into that pub. I can get in close enough and they won’t suspect me.”

“You’re talking about taking on ten men on your own,” Polly said, shaking her head. “You’ll be killed.”

“Not if I hit them fast enough and take them by surprise. And if I make sure that they’re good and drunk first.”

“How’d you reckon you’ll accomplish that?”

“Pose as a barmaid. I’ve gotten friendly with the girl who works Wednesday afternoons. I can convince her to take the day off and let me work in her place.”

“I have something,” Polly said, “And no, it isn’t a poison, John, but it’ll make them more drowsy. Slow reaction times. You could put it in their drinks.”

Lucy nodded, the plan slowly beginning to take shape. She glanced to the side, where Tommy was leaning against the wall, his lips had set into a firm line, jaw clenched. But she could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes as he thought it over.

“Unless anyone else has any better ideas,” she said.

“What about the other people in the bar?” John asked.

“It’s usually quiet around that time on Wednesdays, that’s why they meet then.”

“Tommy?” Polly asked, clearly also noting his silence. He cleared his throat, expression taking on that stony, guarded look that Lucy had come to learn meant that he was trying very hard to hide what he was actually feeling.

“Yep. Sounds like a plan,” the dismissal in his voice was clear as day. “You hit them next Wednesday. Start preparing,” he stubbed his cigarette out into the ashtray and began to head for the door. “Meeting over.”

Lucy watched as the door swung shut behind him, taken aback by his sudden coldness. She thought that he would at the very least be pleased. They would soon be doing away with what had become a rather annoying thorn in all of their sides. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was upset; or that she had done something wrong. 

“Right,” she mumbled, foot moving to tap anxiously against the floor.    

∗ ∗ ∗ 

She checked, and then double checked to make sure that the revolver was loaded properly. That there would be limited likelihood of it jamming or otherwise malfunctioning. Satisfied, she set it down onto the bed in a row with the other three, fingers sliding carefully along the cool, black metal.

“You know it isn’t Wednesday yet, right?”

She turned to find Tommy leaning against the doorframe, removing his hat to stuff it into his coat pocket.

“How’d you get in?” she asked, but was unable to suppress a small smile at his presence.

“Magic.”

She giggled, pulling a knife from its sheath and wiping it down with a cloth. “I’m just…making sure everything’s ready.” 

“Nervous?”

Her shoulders shrugged noncommittally. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“You don’t have to do this,” the omission took her by surprise, straightening to look at him with unhidden perplexion. Tommy looked away, down at his shoes. Almost shyly.

“It’s part of what you brought me on for,” she murmured, confused. Tommy shook his head.

“That doesn’t mean–” he sighed, leaning his head back, clearly frustrated. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him at a loss for words before. “I don’t want you to feel as though you have to do something just because I want it done. You do have a choice,” his gaze was intense, more so than usual. “I need you to know that.”

“We made a deal.”

His head was shaking before she even finished saying it. “You’ve already more than paid your debt. I’m not—I’ll still protect you from them. But I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

She sheathed the blade and placed it down beside the revolvers. Sitting down on the bed, her head tilted, mattress dipping beneath her weight.

“Are you feeling alright?” that got a laugh from him, moving to sit beside her on the bed. “Never thought of you to be much of a worrier.”

“I’m not,” he sighed. She wasn’t entirely sure that she believed him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. 

“You…you’re important to me,” he said. “To the company,” he added swiftly. She hoped that her eyes didn’t show the disappointment she felt at that add-on. “It would be a pain in the ass to find someone who’s as good of an assistant as you are.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that I don’t plan on dying then,” eyes narrowing to playful slits, she bit back another smile, remembering their conversation long ago in that field, sitting beneath a great tree while their horses grazed in the meadow. “This is because I’m short, isn’t it? You think that I can’t handle ten men because they outweigh me?”

Chuckling, Tommy, shook his head. “No. It isn’t that.”

“Because you’re not particularly tall yourself, you know.”

His brows shot up, looking like he was trying very hard to appear incensed, but she could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Compared to you I am.”

“Get out.”

He laughed, hand falling down, fingers dancing over hers, curling around the hand she had planted on the bed. “Just be careful.”

There was something in his eyes. A crack that led beyond the layers of strength and coldness that he had wrapped himself in. A vulnerability, a desperate, quiet psychic call. It curled around her, much like his presence had so long ago in Charlie’s yard. Back then the chant had been a deep, tempting offer: 

Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.

But now it was something else. Not a chant so much as a plea. Interlaced with desperate longing:

Come back to me.

A flutter of amusement echoed in her chest. Some terrifying monster he turned out to be. Teetering on boyish shyness in his worry for her. Protective and gentle. 

Fingers squeezing around his, she scooted just a breath closer to him. Until their shoulders brushed and she could smell the smoke in his coat.

“I promise.” 

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[frolics-dannilions]

Genshin High School Shenanigans :

Death Creeps In

When Xiao was about to bring Zhongli's wallet to his new workplace, he stumbles upon the creepy girl of his school, Hu Tao, who happens to be the director of the place Zhongli's working. With this weird meeting, the two started to make a weird friendship with each other.

Content Warning: none.

Tags: modern au, high school, fluff

Pairing: Hu Tao x Xiao (HuXiao)

Part: 4

—

Keeping someone like Zhongli not spending as much Mora as he could is such a hassle. Hu Tao had to run around the parlor just to keep an eye on him while her father look over as the director for now. She is just a teenager and by the time she come of age, the funeral parlor will be pass down to her. That meant, dealing with Zhongli's even weirder shenanigans every single time of the day.

Examples but not limited to: sneaking up on him during the right times before lunch. Choosing to eat food from a street vendor rather than a kiosk. Preventing Zhongli from venturing off to more expensive places. Stopping him from buying things he likes by the large quantities. And so much more.

Is this what Xiao has to ensure everyday? She asks herself.

"Thank you, Hu Tao." Zhongli thanks her with the most gentlest of manners. "Without you keeping me in check, my wallet will be empty by the end of the week."

Hu Tao only pants her breath and sends him one of her thumbs ups. "No problemo."

Giggling, the old man lends her a hand. "As a sign of gratitude, I must treat you to the finest cuisine we have here." Hu Tao immediately runs up to him and snatches his wallet from his hands. It is so rude of her to do that but she has no other choice. "No more spending, old man!" She yells. "I've had enough. I only have the same amount money as you do so I can't afford to use it all up since they're my allowance."

"I see." Zhongli rubs his chin. "Then the word will be used to thank you for keeping me in check."

"More...like it..." Hu Tao huffs some breath out before returning his wallet back.

After only a week of spying on Zhongli to just doing this, she might have renewed her respect for Xiao. How could he, someone who keeps himself closed, take care of someone who has a spending habit of a billionaire but with the money of a barely getting out of debts college student?

"Are you and Xiao close by any chance?" He asks.

She isn't really ready to answer that after doing all that all day. But Hu Tao dust herself off and clears her throat, "Why do you ask that?" Zhongli just smiles calmly and looks at the exit longingly. Seems like he's reminiscing something but she couldn't really guess. "Never mind. I just want to know if he has new friends."

That is the first time she has seen Zhongli so happy before.

"Thank you for being there for him though."

What does he meant by 'new friends'? Hu Tao thought long and hard. That didn't make any sense. Does Zhongli not know at how famous is so-called 'son' is at school? The guy has girls talking about how pretty he is and not to mention being in the famous clique the 5wirls. But by how he acts, she isn't really blaming he old man for worrying about the poor bird boy.

She makes up her mind to not think about it that hard again and gets herself something to eat at the cafeteria, maybe she'll encounter her friends there and might be engage a rap battle with Xingqiu.

But before she could enter the cafeteria, she is being pull by someone from the back and their pull is very hard for someone who she vaguely sees as scrawny. When her sense finally comes back, it's Xiao!

"Huh?" She scratches her head confusedly. "What do you want, demon boy?"

Xiao blushes at the nickname. He hasn't heard that nickname since his childhood and now some girl in pigtails starts calling him that. What a strange girl...

"I'm just asking you if the plan was successful." He answers, leaning his back against the wall. Trying to act like he's a cool guy. "Was it?"

"Oh," She grimaces. "It did."

"Great."

"But..." That piques him. Hu Tao nibbled the tip of her nail and averts her gaze away from him. "...I didn't think that Mr. Zhongli would be such a kid about spending his Mora."

Xiao clicks his tongue. "Told ya."

He shakes his head before letting her go, "Go. I don't want to stir up some rumors." Says Xiao then walks away from the cafeteria, going back to his class to finish his notes for Ningguang's geography class.

Hu Tao stands there like a statue, watching him getting further and further away. Something inside her wanted him to stay but it's being cover by feelings of confusion. What does he mean by rumors?

"Hu Tao?"

She flinches at the voice, it's only Yanfei. Thankfully.

"Aren't you coming in? Xingqiu is searching for you too." The pink haired girl says as she pulls the brunette inside the cafeteria. It's unusual for her to stay outside alone. Yanfei has a suspicion that something must be going on with Hu Tao and that other boy from her class—Xiao. She doesn't know what but she's sure that they're hiding something.

"Finally!" Chongyun sighed heavily. Seems like the others have gone to not eat their lunches until she comes. Hu Tao crosses her arms and bends forward, "What? Why aren't you guys eating, the food's not good?" She jokingly asks.

Xingqiu drops his book and immediately goes for the rice bowl he paid for. "Haha, good one, Hu Tao." He gives her a dry laugh.

She smirks and sits down next to Xiangling—who's digging her face into her lunch—"Then...when's the rematch?" Asks Hu Tao.

"Rematch?" Xingqiu quirks his eyebrow. "Ah...our rap battle."

He opens his planner from his pockets and checks his schedule. They gotten used to Xingqiu and his limitless pocket space; one time, he even pulled out a two-hundred-page book from there. "This Saturday, does 4 pm sound good?" He asks and shakes her hand. A smile appears on her face, "Deal!"

Closing the book shut, Hu Tao quickly cleans her desk from those heavy text books and runs out of the classroom. This particular day is the day she gets a day off from the parlor and Lumine promised her that she'll be treating her and Yanfei to crepes after school.

As she stops her tracks at her locker, Hu Tao glances excitedly around to spot the blonde. That new crepes place is known to have the tastiest crepes in town so she doesn't want to miss out. And right on sight, she sees those blonde locks with flowers sticking out.

"Lumine!" She calls out.

The twin sister turned around and sees the brunette running to her excitedly. "You ready yet?"

The blonde nods. "Yanfei told me that she'll be joining us later. She needs to run some errands for her granny."

Hu Tao purses her lips together and makes a funny sound, "Darn, that's no fun."

The two girls walks out the gates, continuing their conversation during lunch earlier even about other topics they didn't talk about. Like about Aether amd his group of boys who are so carefree like the wind. About that new transfer student they heard from the rumor about a new first year in Xiangling's class from Sumeru. How difficult Mr. Tighnari's biology class was and how lucky Collei is to be his adopted daughter.

Hu Tao immediately bursts out laughing when Lumine cracks a joke about their Student Council president, Keqing, keeps her position even though she doesn't respect the teachers. But she soon stops when the both of them spot the 5wirls boys, consisting of: Aether, Kazuha, Venti, Heizou, and the one and only conquerer of demons, Xiao.

"Oh, hey, sis." Aether stops them by greeting his twin. Lumine only flashes a smile then ignores her brother. The others got used to it by this point.

"Yo, Xiao." Hu Tao grins.

Xiao gives her nod then glances away. It's very noticeable that he has a pink flush all over his cheeks—or for Heizou it's noticeable.

"Hey, Xiao." Heizou nudges his arm. "Greet her back, don't be such a wussy."

The others laugh at him and join Heizou at teasing the poor bird boy.

"Hey, you two, wait for me!"

Heizou halts his laughing when he hears that familiar deep voice. He peeks his eyes to the girls' direction and finds the two greeting their other friend Yanfei into the group. A small smile forms before continuing to tease Xiao.

"Oh, Xiao likes Hu Tao?" Aether says bluntly—only joining to tease him for fun.

The others turn to the blond with a hint of dumbfounded.

"Dude..." Venti's gotten deeper. "You're way behind the times."

Xiao only stays silent as ever because he doesn't want to be teased even harder than he already was. Why am I even friends with them... He even thinks to himself about that. True, it is weird for someone like Xiao to be friends with someone like Heizou and Venti even Aether. But they are one of the few people who he can respect because they have never judge him for anything strange.

"Where's...Kazuha?" Asks Xiao.

"Kaedehara left earlier." Heizou answers.

An idea pops inside the bright and young up-and-coming detective's mind. "Why don't you go on a date with her?" Heizou prompts his idea to the others. "Wh-what?!" Xiao shrieks.

"That's a good idea, Heizou!" Venti agrees. "How about ask her this Saturday?"

Xiao isn't ready for that sudden burst of enthusiasm from the three of them. Who do they think they are, his adopted siblings?

"S-sh-shut up...!" Xiao shuts it down immediately, he is so flustered that he even can't think straight. "I will not ask that weirdo on a date!"

"I don't have a crush on her!!"

[starbind]

“i wouldn’t, actually. no male possesses the ability i do for spying, cassian is a great example of that.” there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. by far cassian was the worst person to bring on a mission that required staying still and quiet for a long period. “you’re wrong, this isn’t a female versus male thing, you should know me better than that.” these days his partner for most missions was nesta, the two found each other to be an extraordinary pair and always in sync with each other. azriel understands callie though, he knows how the autumn court operates and finds them to be almost as bad as the illyrians. “i know you’re strong and i know you can handle yourself, but that’s not what this is about at all.”

he tried to not let it bother him, but didn’t she know he wasn’t anything like those males in the autumn court? his eyes slid to her and he kept his voice cold. “don’t for one second think i’m anything like those males, if i were i wouldn’t have told you about what i’m doing. you would be holed up in the house of wind, you wouldn’t be training with the valkyries.” the hand around one of the daggers he was inspecting tightened enough where his knuckles turned white. hearing or talking about the autumn court only made him remember what they had done to mor and now how they treated callie. if it were up to him the entire court would have crumbled by now and built anew with someone more sane to rule it. “trust me callie, i know you’re anything but delicate.” again he went quiet as he did a once over for everything. this was most definitely a horrible idea, but no one else in the court seemed to be doing anything about koschei and he was getting tired of sitting around waiting for him to make a move.

for so long azriel was hesitant about anyone touching his scarred hands, he didn’t even like when people’s eyes lingered on them a second too long. his hands were soiled, not only with the brutal scars but with all the blood on his hands from centuries of torturing and killing. it was hard to think anyone would want to willingly touch them. but callie had always done so easily and without ever recoiling. in the beginning he had been reluctant at first for her to touch him in that way, yet she had always held them without a second thought. even now as she holds both his hands in her own it makes something in his chest tighten. his eyes linger on their clasped hands, how unmarred they are against his own and he rubs his thumbs against her skin. his hazel eyes so full with adoration meets her’s.

“death would be a blessing compared to what koschei could do. but the potential threat of him getting his hands on, cursing you– that would be my personal hell, cal. he delights in kidnapping beautiful women and imprisoning them, cursing them so they never leave his lake. i would be a shitty mate, a shitty male to let you get that close to him.” he releases one hand to cup her cheek and gazes at her face intently, savoring it. he didn’t want her to worry and he swore to himself he would do everything in his power to be as cautious as possible. “you won’t be left wondering, i promise. we’re mates, we’ll know if the other dies. you don’t need to worry though, it’s only a formality i always do when doing something like this.” his fingers, feather-light, move down to her chin to tilt it up. his lips met with hers, soft and warm. it wasn’t a goodbye kiss, he refused for it to be so. he pulls back only slightly, “i promise i will make it up to you, any way you want. but you aren’t going with me this time.”

time and time again within the autumn court, callie was made to feel like nothing more than just a mere woman who had to bend to the will of then men around her. as if any moment, her sharp claws would be dulled in preparation for holding a delicate child of an ignorant man she would eventually wed. in the autumn court, her fate would have been sealed to become nothing more than a broodmare. since arriving in the night court and finding solace among nesta and her friends, she felt she could finally be free. even as she grew closer to azriel and felt the pull of the mating bond between them, she never felt that same fear of turning into nothing more than just a mate. azriel let her challenge him and allowed her to feel safe in speaking her mind so openly with him. he never made her feel like a female who just needed to obey her mate. until now, that is.

if it were a silly argument that didn't have such dire consequences for the both of them, callie would have given him her signature pout that she knew would soften his heart. instead, her brows are furrowed and the slit pupils of her feline gaze are sharp and unwavering as she analyzes every movement the shadowsinger made. she watches in silence for a moment as he lists off all his reasonings for not wanting her to go with him. all of which, seemed to be centered around keeping her safe. any other docile woman would have found it romantic that he cared so deeply for her, but callie found it suffocating to being treated as if she's weaker and more prone harm just for being a woman.

"i'm not staying behind just because you're scared of what will happen to me. did you even consider how i feel? if i were a man, would you let me go with you?" the anger only rises in her chest and she could feel her eyes threatening to well up with tears. callie keeps her composure, gaze now locked on his as she continues, "i left the autumn court for being treated like a delicate woman. i'm not about to let you do the same to me. i expect to be treated as your equal."

as he began strapping on his weapons, callie stepped closer to him. her hands reaching for his own to stop his movements and force his attention back onto her. holding both his hands in her own, she looks up to meet his eyes. "i'm not letting you die without me being there to see your final breath. i'm not saying goodbye to you now only to be left pacing around and wondering if you'll even make it out alive."

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

No One Better Than You

Authors note: This is an Omegaverse(a/b/o) fic, meaning Nat has a penis. so if you don’t like that sorta stuff please don’t read

Summary:  What happens when Alpha Avenger Natasha Romanoff and Omega SHIELD Agent Y/n want each other but take forever to admit their feelings because they don't realize the other wants them? This, this is what happens.

Word count:  3068       

Warnings: jealousy, smut(vaginal penetration), a/b/o stuff(claiming, knotting, mating)

Nat Masterlist       Marvel Masterlist     NOBTY Masterlist 

Were you flirting with this Alpha at the bar? Yes. Would you actually let it go anywhere? No, absolutely not. Because the only Alpha you will ever want is Natasha Romanoff. So even though she doesn't want you, you can’t lie to yourself and say that this guy or any other Alpha was just as good because no one could ever compare to her.

   The Russian approaches the bar, her deep green eyes searching for something or someone. They land on you and she smiles, that is until she notices the Alpha you're sitting next to. He's leaning into you, one arm draped around your shoulders as his other hand rests on your thigh, his thumb rubbing against the skin just below your shorts. 

   Natashas jaw clenches as her eyebrows furrow. She’d only been away from you for a few minutes, why were you even giving this guy the time of day. He was definitely the kind of Alpha that was only interested in a quick fuck with an Omega, and you were worth so much more than that to her.

    She walks over to you and shoves his arm off your shoulders, “You’re in my seat.” she growls at the man

    The Alpha with you lets out a low laugh, “Well the Omega here doesn't seem to be complaining.” he says with a smirk 

   She looks down at you and your eyes meet hers, you're suddenly very aware of the discomfort in her eyes. She doesn't like this Alpha or how he's touching you, she wants you to say something.

   You look to the Alpha next to you, “She’s right, that's her seat.” you say as you slide his hand from your leg.

   His upper lip curls, “Fine, plenty of other Omegas.” he says as he stands, trying to get a rise from.

   “Then go find one.” Natasha says coldly.

   He looks at her, “I did find one, a few more minutes and I would’ve had her begging for my cock.” he sneers as he walks off

   Her fists clench in anger, she wants to punch his teeth in for saying that about you but before she can follow him your hand is grabbing hers. “It’s ok Tasha, he's not worth it.”

   “He’s no Alpha, he's just a pig. No one should ever talk about you like that.” she tells you as you run your thumb over her knuckles in a soothing manner

   You were over the bar scene, “Can we go back to your place and watch a movie?”

   She smiles at you, “Of course we can krasivaya(beautiful).” She tells you. You stand, her hand still in yours and let her lead you out to her car

   She could never resist spending time alone with you, when the two of you were together everything just felt right for Natasha. She could actually be herself with you. She told you everything about her past in the Red Room and all the horrible things she had done, she was so relieved when you didn't run from her or become afraid of her. Instead you had told her how her past didn’t define her, and how being an Avenger proved how good of a heart she had. That's when she knew you were it for her. But she worried she wasn’t good enough for you, you deserved better than a spy and assassin.

   Little did she know that you felt the same. When you were with Natasha you felt complete. You knew you were safe with her, you knew that no matter what she thought of herself that she was the most kind and caring Alpha you had ever known. You longed to be with her any chance she gave you. You wanted her as your Alpha, but you just couldn't tell her. You never saw the lingering looks she gave you, or the jealousy that flowed through her when you were with another Alpha, to you she seemed uninterested and you couldn’t blame her. Why would an Avenger want a SHIELD Agent?

   When you got back to the compound she leads you down the familiar hallways until you were passing the kitchen area, where Clint happened to be. He smiled and sent a wave your way, “Hey guys! Nat, mind if I borrow Y/n for a minute?”

   She looks at him confused, but you answer before she can say anything, “Sure, I’ll meet you in your room.” you tell the Alpha, she nods and heads down the hall.

   She doesn't get far before Yelena is pulling her into her room, “What the hell Yelena!” she says, startled by the apparent ambush

   “Shh! Do you want the whole compound to hear you yell?.” the blond says in a hushed tone.

   “Well if you don’t want me yelling, don’t grab me like that. A simple ‘Natasha please come here’ works wonders you know.” she says

   “Oh shut up. Just tell me how it went with Y/n.” Yelena says, impatiently.

    Natasha hangs her head, “It didn’t. I didn’t know how to tell her, or how she’d react and I was starting to panic so I excused myself for a bit only to come back to find another Alpha all over her. She was even flirting with him.”

   Yelena runs a hand across her forehead, “So you just gave up and came home?”

   “Of course not, I told the asshole to get lost. Y/n dismissed him and asked to come back here and watch a movie with me.” she says, smiling slightly as she thinks about how you didn’t choose him, and now the two of you would be snuggling on her bed watching a Bond movie in a few minutes.

    “Sestra(sister), if she's flirting with Alphas then you need to make your move before you lose your chance.”

   The Alpha frowns, “She wouldn't settle for one of those svin'i(pigs) at the bar.”

   “No, but there are plenty of Alphas within SHIELD not to mention how many of our team members are Alphas and she's friends with all of them.” Yelena points out.

   Her frown deepens, she wouldn't know what to do if you chose an Alpha without knowing about her feelings for you. It would break her heart to see you marked by anyone other than her. She wants to be the only one that ever gets to scent you, the only one that gets to bond with you.

    She nods, “Ok, I’ll tell her tonight. I can’t lose her sestra(sister), I love her.”

    Yelena smiles, “Tell her just like that. Now go, before she wonders where you are.”

   Back with Clint you were having a similar conversation. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a playful squeeze, His nose crinkles when your scent hits him though.

   “Why do you smell like a jock at a keg party?” he questions

   You laugh at his phrasing, “Oh, that's just the scent of the Alpha that was all over me tonight.”

    He glares at you, “My best friend does not smell like that.”

    You roll your eyes, “Well, I wasn’t talking about Natasha. Some guy started chatting with me, he seemed nice enough at first. I can’t wait for Tasha forever, Clint, especially when she doesn't want me.” 

   “Who said she doesn't want you?” he asks, ready to kick someones ass, he knew how she felt about you.

   “Nobody had to say it, she's never made a move, and tonight she didn’t even say anything about me flirting with another Alpha. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.” you admit sadly

   “Ah kid, Nats just hard to read sometimes, ok a lot of the time. But I promise you she feels something for you. Nobody has ever gotten as close to her as you, not even me. You're special to her kid. Just give her some time.” he says

   “I’ve known her since you brought her into SHIELD, how much more time could she possibly need?” you ask him

    He frowns, “Ok, so flirt with her. If that doesn't get through her thick head, be more forward and touch her, tell her your feelings or for goodness sake kiss her. Make some kind of move to help her open her damn eyes.”

   You sigh, “Okay, but if this doesn't work I’m giving up Clint. I want to be able to move on.” He wants to reply to you, but honestly doesn't know what to say. He's in agreement that Nats taken way too long to say anything, but he doesn't want you to give up on her, he knows Nat wouldn’t handle that well. “I better get going, don’t want to miss out on a Bond movie.”

   “Oh, yeah because it’s not like you've never seen any of them before.” he teases

   You elbow him playfully, “Shut up, they’re her favorites.”

   He chuckles, “I know. Go on then, don’t keep her waiting.” he says.

    You head down the familiar hallway to the Alphas room, you don’t bother knocking as you enter. You find her sitting on her bed getting the blankets and pillows ready for you to make a small nest on the bed for you both like you did every movie night. 

   She smiles at you as you walk in, “So what did birdbrain want?”

   “Oh he was just asking about my night and what we were up to. I told him about the Alpha at the bar and our movie plans.” you say as you sit on the bed, starting to make your nest. Her face falls slightly as she remembers the Alpha, how his hands were all over you and how you were flirting with him. 

   “Why were you talking to that guy anyway?” she asks. You can sense the irritation in her voice and notice a change in her scent. You figured she just didn’t want you to end up with a creep from a bar.   

   You quirk an eyebrow at her question, “Tasha, I’m an Omega and he was an Alpha. I thought it was pretty self explanatory.” Her heart drops at your answer. You're looking for an Alpha, but you haven’t looked at her.   

   “No, it is.” she nods, “It’s just that I don’t understand, why him? He was a stranger and he wouldn’t have treated you right, he wouldn’t have taken care of you.”

    “Would any Alpha?” you ask. You didn’t mean it in a harsh way, it was just a fact of life that a lot of Alphas treated Omegas like shit, like they were little more than property. 

   “I would.” she states. You still at her words, trying to comprehend if you'd heard her correctly you turn to face her. She reaches out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear then moves to caress your cheek in an attempt to hide her nervousness. “I can treat you right, I can take care of you. I want to do those things because I want you Y/n, please say you want me too.” 

   At her admission a few tears escape your eyes and for a few seconds Natasha is worried something’s wrong, until you speak, “I want you Tasha, I always have.”

   She smiles before surging forward, capturing your lips with her own. You wrap your arms around her neck as she wraps hers around your waist, pulling the two of you closer together. You open your mouth to her and she deepens the kiss, you moan into her mouth as she sucks on your bottom lip. She reluctantly pulls back for air, but she keeps her hold on your waist.

   “I’ve waited so long for you to do that.” you admit

   She rests her forehead on yours, “I’m sorry, I realize I hurt you by waiting so long.”

   “Why did you wait?” you ask, a bit sadly

   “I thought you deserved better than me.” she sadly admits

   You pull away from her so you can look into her eyes, “There is no better than you.”

   It’s her turn to shed tears this time, you pull her into a hug. You each rest your heads on the other's shoulder, noses brushing against scent glands as you breathe each other in. 

   You tilt your head up, getting your mouth as close to her ear as possible, “Please Tasha, make me yours.”

   She hums at your admission, her hands grab the bottom of your shirt and she gently pulls it over your head. She slowly runs her hands up your back until they stop at your bra, she unclasps it and you let it slide off you. The Alpha licks her lips as she takes in your bare chest. Her hands briefly caress your breasts and you arch further into her touch moaning softly. She takes off her own shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. The scent of your arousal almost overwhelms her.

   You move forward slightly, your hands skim across her sides as you move to unclasp her bra. You pepper kisses along her collarbone as your fingers tease the clasp. Her bra falls away from her chest revealing her breasts, you slowly move your kisses down her chest until your mouth closes around one of her nipples. She lets out a moan as your tongue teases her. Your teeth graze against her skin as you pull away. 

     “Lay back for me, kotenok(kitten).” she says, her tone husky with her want for you. Her scent gets even muskier when she's aroused, it makes your eyes dilate. 

    You do as you're told resting your back on the pillows near the headboard. She grabs the waistband of your shorts, tugging on them you lift your hips allowing her to remove them. You can see the bulge in her pants as she takes in your body and the amount of slick soaking through your underwear.

   She locks eyes with you as she begins to remove your underwear, “So pretty for me, my Omega.”

   You whine at her words, you want more praise. You want, no you need more. She smirks, knowing exactly what she's doing to you. Once your underwear are gone she gently spreads your legs apart. Her cock twitches once she sees just how wet you are, she hums as she lays herself between your legs. She's so close that you can feel her warm breath against you. 

   Your hips jerk slightly in anticipation. She chuckles as her hands grab your waist to keep you in place. Her tongue slowly makes its way through your folds, she moans at your taste. She continues to tease you, lapping up your slick until you're a mewling mess. Despite how good you taste she can’t hold back anymore, she needs to bury her cock in you to fully claim you with her knot. 

   She pulls her face away from you, licking her lips as she stands again. The sight of your slick dripping from her chin is beautiful. She quickly removes her pants allowing you to see just how large her length is as it strains against her underwear.  The sight of your half lidded and dilated eyes taking her in is definitely a sight she won’t tire of. 

   She finishes removing her underwear, she crawls back onto the bed, slotting herself between your legs. Your breath hitches in anticipation for her. Her hands grab your hips and she gently pulls you closer until you can feel her against you. She strokes herself a few times, teasing your entrance with her tip. Your body can’t take anymore, you need your Alpha.

   “Tasha…please…” you whine

   She smirks again, “Please what baby?”

   You grind your hips against her, “Please fuck me. Need you to mark me, to mate with me.”

   She wastes no time in pushing her hips forward, her cock sliding past your slick soaked lips until she bottoms out in you. You both moan in pleasure, finally joined with each other just as you both dreamed of. She begins thrusting in and out of you, her pace slow at first allowing you to adjust to her. 

   “You feel so good Alpha….please, I need more.” you beg

   She grunts as she complies, her thrusts become faster and harder. Your moans become louder and she can feel your walls beginning to squeeze around her. She leans over you, a hand cupping your chin as she leans in kissing you passionately. Your walls squeeze her again and she can feel her knot grow. She moves her head to your scent gland in anticipation.

   “Going to let everyone know whose Omega you are.” she tells you 

   You moan as you feel her knot pushing into you, your back arches as it slips into you. She moans with you as she locks into place. You wrap your legs around her waist, keeping her impossibly close as your orgasm washes over you. Her seed pours into you as your pussy milks her. 

   Her teeth sink into your scent gland as you tremble beneath her, her tongue cleans her mark before she nuzzles into your neck, “My Omega. Mine.” she growls possessively. 

   “Yours.” You hum in response, your arms wrapping around her. You lean your face into her neck, she sighs contently as your teeth bite into her scent gland. Only when you're sure your mark is clean do you pull away. She turns her head to meet your gaze, your hand caresses her cheek, “My Alpha, my mate.” you purr happily

   She smiles, leaning into your touch, “Only yours kotenok(kitten).” 

   She felt complete now, and filled with a happiness she didn’t know was possible. She finally had you, her sweet Omega. She couldn’t wait to build a life and a pack with you, that was all she ever wanted.

   You were so happy to have your Alpha finally. You couldn’t wait until your next heat, then she could fuck you and fill you so much it would guarentee pups. You wanted to have a pack with her. To be hers, to be happy with her pups is all you ever wanted.

   She places a gentle kiss on your lips, “I love you Y/n.” You can feel a warmth in your chest at her admission.

   “I love you too Tasha, so much.” you reply. Her eyes brighten upon hearing your words. She can’t wait to tell Yelena and Clint, she finally made her move and you were hers.

[starlightsearches]

In that case, could you do Fluff prompt 5, 25 and nr 4 from 'Other' with Steve? Reader thinking he's still caring a torch for Nancy but ever since Steve met reader he has never wanted anyone else

"You're everything to me." / "It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today." / "No, don't cry. I hate it when you cry."

Just Thinking of the Right Words to Say

WOWOWOW, thanks for the prompt friend! I know this one took pretty long, so I'm sorry for that wait.

Requests are open 💖

Steve x GN! reader

Warnings: language, ANGST OH MY GOD ANGST, reader is vecna'd instead of Max, reader has a dead dad and feels responsible, a kiss :')

Despite what Steve thinks, it's not Dustin's clumsiness that wakes you.

You fell out of sleep a little while ago—no way to know exactly how long—head resting against the coarse denim covering Steve's thighs. There's been a few times you've thought about faking a yawn, sitting up off the couch and pretending like you had no idea how you ended up in that position, but Steve's been keeping you in place—unintentionally—resting his hand low at your waist, thumb dipping to stroke absently over your hip.

And five more minutes of that couldn't hurt.

It's all coming to an end, you know, when you hear the thump of familiar footsteps coming down the Wheeler's basement stairs. Dustin pretty much sucks at being quiet, and it only gets worse the harder he's trying.

You can't even begin to guess what he's knocked in to based on the crash, but you know the sound it makes should be loud enough to wake you.

"Dude, seriously?" Steve half-whispers, muscles tightening beneath you—like he wants to stand until he remembers you’re in the way. Dustin responds with a few repeated I'm sorrys before snatching the walkie from the table and scrambling back up the steps.

It was nice while it lasted.

You let out a little sigh, rolling your head from Steve's lap. He's got shadows under his big, dark eyes, his hair a total mess from all the times he's stroked his fingers through it.

But he smiles at you, and he's never looked prettier.

"Hey." You duck your head to quiet those thoughts, rubbing a hand over the denim print pressed into your cheek.

"Hey," he chuckles softly, palms stroking over his thighs as he juts his head in the direction of the stairs, "I'm really sorry about that."

"Don't be. It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today and not—"

Your eyes catch on the table, spying Max's beat-up Walkman, the headphones dangling a few inches from the floor. You think about the way Steve's hands must have brushed against your cheeks, sliding the headphones over your ears in the middle of Hawkins cemetery. Anger boils in your stomach—you can't remember it, obviously.

"Yeah," Steve says, concerned when he notices the way your brow furrows, "you're not sick of the song, though, are you? 'Cause we can stop by your house and pick up some tapes, or go to a record store maybe—"

You shake your head, quieting him. "No, it's not that, it's just . . ."

The pause in your words lingers. Steve leans forward on his elbows, close enough your eyes catch on the little dotted moles across his cheeks.

"Tell me," he whispers.

You can't. Not like this. Your fingers tangle together, and as much as you want to tell him that it's not the Walkman's fault that you're still here, you can't. You can't tell Steve you came back for him because maybe you spent the night with your head pillowed in his lap, but you did it in Nancy Wheeler's basement.

Perfect Nancy—with her baby doll features and clever mind and a shared history with Steve you'd popped up in the middle of and could never begin to compete with.

"Did you—" he swallows like he's not sure how to get the question out, "Was it your dad?"

Fuck. That shouldn't be easier to talk about, but the words are ready at your lips.

"At first. It was him, and I knew it was a dream because he was—you know—alive, but it didn't feel like a dream. Not at all."

Steve listens. Watching you this closely, his eyes have you feeling the edge of a blade on your skin, ready to be dissected, and you can’t have that. You don’t know what he’d find.

"It was, I mean, at first I was just- I couldn't believe I was hearing his voice again. And I wanted to say I was sorry, and I wanted to tell him that I loved him."

Steve's hand brushes over your shoulder, tentative, but you can't appreciate it fully. Your eyes are stinging, throat growing tight like it always does when you're trying not to cry.

"He was saying, god, just the most awful things. Things he never would have said to me, but the words were in his voice and I really thought I would die just from hearing it. I had to get away."

Your nails dig little holes into your palms. It's all still here—the scent of dank grass in your pounding lungs, your stumbling footsteps over the pocked face of the cemetery in your mind. Fighting your way into that red-hell world, hoping for an escape, and all you had found was more agony.

Thick, fat tears roll down your cheeks, cutting the words off in your throat. Steve's hand is warm, up against your cheek, thumb brushing at a few tears.

"Hey, stop, please. Don't cry. You know I can't handle it when you cry."

He looks so fucking heartbroken. You push his hand away, keeping your fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"He told me nobody would miss me, Steve. And I— I believed him."

It's the center of it all, the cancerous root to your pain. You'd heard those words, locked in Vecna's grasp, and a part of you knew he was right. Nobody would miss you, not the way you had missed your father. There would be no sleepless nights and tear-soaked pillows for you.

You would have let go then, but there was Steve. Outside, in the real world, he had his arms wrapped so tight around you, hand cupped at the back of your head as your body started to lift from the ground, so tight you could almost feel it. There were tears in his eyes, and his voice reached through the gap, past the headphones and the music and the fear and all the rest.

He was the one you ran towards. It was him you followed back into the light.

"Hey," Steve takes you by both the shoulders, shaking you a little, "don't talk like that, okay? Ever."

His intensity surprises you. "What?"

It all goes quiet. Steve’s soft breaths meet your skin, and you’re not afraid like have been, not waiting waiting for the chime of a clock or the slick shadowy voice you’d been hearing in your dreams.

His fingers twitch against your shoulders, but he doesn't pull away, big eyes on yours as he fights to get the words out. "God, I just— I thought you were going to die, okay? I thought you were dying, and I thought I was going to have to watch, and I just couldn't. I couldn't take that."

He drops your gaze, and your body buzzes, trapped in his grip and by his words.

"Steve . . ." You're not even sure what you want to say to him. You're afraid to ask the question that's waiting on your lips.

He must feel it there, because his hands come up to cup your face, thumb just brushing the corner of your mouth.

"It would have killed me, too. Okay? Vecna was wrong. You're- you're everything to me."

You're fingertips brush across his knuckles, his skin warm beneath your hands, and this feels more like a dream than any dream you can remember, but you're not waking up, and no matter how long you wait, Steve's hand is still there.

"Really?"

Steve smiles. "Yes, really."

When his lips meet yours, you feel it.

[ghostofechoes]

Spy x Family Au Ficlet, Steve is Loid Dustin is Anya and Yor is Eddie

After that scene all I just saw Steve losing his shit seeing Dustin crying and had to write it.

Dustin looked over to Steve the twinkle of his activating powers ringing in his ear. “He’s a sp-ecialist in mental health for kids”. He didn’t look at his dad, just continued talking like vomit. The official Fredrick just looked tickled thinking he was trying to use big words.

“You don’t say, and what do you think of your other dad” the man beside him hid the sneer quite well from the other two but it didn’t get past Steve. He was homophobic, he knew that coming in but something about that look in his eye as he glanced at Eddie.

He was refined and was even willing to dress up all prim and proper, to sell Dustin better. But his tattoos would peek through, both the homophobe and Hopper had noticed it. Hopper had the decency to recognize the attempt.

The bastard not so much.

Steve was thinking about why that slipped, he shouldn’t care it wasn’t his concern.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he missed the question but Dustin’s response was on point “He’s so much fun! And he makes me happy-” Dustin face scrunched up thinking honesty was what dad told him to say.

“But he can be scary” Eddie choked on the tea he was drinking, rather elegantly until that moment. Steve felt a twitch on the corner of his cheek but thought nothing of it. The way Dustin grinned like he did good.

“Scary? Does he hurt you” bastard saw the opening, abuse he could use that.

“Nope, he only hurts those who hurt me, even teaches me how to defend myself” Dustin gave a nod like a smug little shit.

Hopper was interested, this Dustin was much more than what he initially thought, he had energy, he had spunk, he would make a great addition.

Frederick chuckled as Dustin posed a rather wobbly martial arts stance.

“I see, so if you had to give your fathers a score what would it be?” Dustin vibrated at the opportunity to say his real feelings. “A perfect score! I love them so much I want to be with them forever, I laugh a lot and they make me feel special.” Eddie was grinning, failing at hiding his glee, even his face was tinged a bit, never hearing such kind words from the little shits mouth before.

Steve started feeling that tug on his lips again, the one that reached all the way down to his chest, which felt so light and warm.

Only to feel it drenched in ice when he heard that click of the bastard’s tongue.

“But what about your mother, don’t you feel like something is missing without her? Isn't it weird having only dads?” Frederick hissed that was highly inappropriate they are progessive that's such archaic thinking, but Dustin spoke before he could say a word.

“But my dad is my mom” Dustin looked to Steve, his bubbly personality popped, folding into himself with each word.

“Mr. Swan I think that’s inappropriate” Eddie was already at Dustin’s side who looked hollow. The man raised his hands in mock surrender looking rather gleeful.

“Now, now it’s an honest question, there is no maternal presence in his life, doesn’t he miss his mom?”

“Yeah” Dustin’s voice broke, his lip wobbled, but he was no longer there flashes of a screaming woman, of him crying so tiny, he wasn’t able to remember her face. No, how was he going to find her now.

A tear plopped down on his lap, sucking the air out of the room.

Steve's thoughts were racing: how was he going to salvage this? How was he going to clean up that fucking bastard’s mess. The mission came first, they weren’t his real family so it was okay just find a way to brush this under the rug.

He was concentrating so hard his fist was clenched, his thumb tucked beneath his knuckle, rubbing the flesh there raw. ‘Restrain yourself King, restrain’

“If he can’t even handle such a silly thing as the absence of his mother, how will you be able to make it through without the two of you coddling him, pathetic.” he ‘whispered’ under his breath, Eddie fingers dug into the chair, his knuckles growing white a soft pop of torn leather.

“Pathetic” he growled back glaring straight at the man it took all in his power to dislodge his fingers and swipe that pen in his pocket across his neck, or maybe use that handkerchief to strangle him instead.

“Now now, don’t be upset, of course he would prefer his own blood, of course he would prefer his mother”

Swan was just a bundle of delight, now these homo’s have no chance at a better life than-.

There was a gust of air that swiped right before his nose before slamming against the table so hard it shattered.

“Excuse me there was a spider” he huffed standing straight and fixing his outfit. The spider in question twitched one last time.

“Thank you for your time but let’s go” he looked at Eddie and Dustin who were ogling him wide eyed. He just had to blink before they were at his side, Dustin tucked into Eddie’s neck as the man followed in toe.