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zorosangell · 3 months ago

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I NEED pit pt2 ! GIVE ZORO HIS GIRL BACK!!! 😤😔

⛥ﾟ・。 boxers

synopsis: part two of pit -- zoro saves your life (ish) and finally finds the courage to win you back

cw: fluffy fluff with a dash of angst, comfort, ZORO IS DOWN BAD, kinda grovels ig, but like as he should, reader kinda stands on business (not really tho).

a/n: been a minute y'all <3 happy to see you guys again

"For fuck's sake," Zoro groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes as the loud, frenzied moans of Nami's booty call slithered through the walls.

Was she fucking killing him?

Audibly, the man was shoved against the headboard, letting out a surprised string of groans as the navigator continued her assault, doing whatever it was she did that had men begging her not to leave whatever island they were docked at.

Of course, she never obliged; but that never stopped her from robbing them blind, each and every one practically handing over their valuables at the sight of her shy smile.

It was almost laughable.

Zoro couldn't wrap his head around the poor bastards who found themselves so besotted so easily.

She was just a woman.

Hell, she was just a person.

No different from any other stranger you'd pass on the road.

...Right?

With an annoyed sigh, the swordsman dragged a calloused hand over his face, staring at the ceiling of his dark room with a knowing look.

Then again, it was just a woman that had made the last month of his life a living hell.

Or rather... her absence.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the inn bed, he glanced over at the nightstand, snatching up his day-old glass of water and taking a large swig.

By the severe lack of light flowing in through the window, he could tell it was still the wee hours of the morning, despite the fact he felt he'd been up for years.

But lately, that was how every night went.

'Cut it out.'

Without hesitation, Zoro dropped to the ground, completely ignoring the empty cup on the floor as he caught himself in a plank, starting up his push-ups.

He could do this.

He could work through this.

He just had to give himself a little more time.

With a grunt of discomfort, his lips tightened into a taut line, ignoring how the weight felt off without a certain someone sitting on his back, and how his count felt too correct without a familiar voice chatting his ear off.

Shaking his head, the swordsman trained his gaze on the floor below him, brows cinching slightly with frustration.

'Cut. It. Out.'

In retaliation, images of your smiling face flashed through his mind, so sudden that it early made him drop himself.

God, if this wasn't pathetic, he didn't know what was.

Your big breakup with the ship's first mate was a little over a month ago, and despite Zoro's fervent efforts to forget, your words had plagued him from the moment you stepped off the deck.

"IT'S WHAT YOU DON'T DO, ZORO!"

"Every time I look at you, I feel more alone."

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

His chest ached at the broken tone of your voice, just as painful as when he first heard it.

All that time he had spent fighting off danger, working to keep you as far away from it as possible, it turned out he was the one that had been hurting you he most.

That fucked with him more than he cared to admit.

How could he have not seen the signs?

How could he have not seen how much he was hurting you?

How could he have ever forgotten anything about you?

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

Suddenly, Zoro's nose scrunched, a harsh stench snatching him from his self-loathing thoughts.

It smelled like... smoke.

In an instant, the swordsman's eye snapped open, darting around the room to see greyish-black fumes billowing in from under the door.

Sifting through his you-induced haze, he forced his brain to sort through all the pieces.

Early morning.

Smoke.

And shouting that had finally managed to bleed through the walls.

'(y/n)!'

Frantically, Zoro scrambled to his feet, still in his boxers and nothing else as he snatched up his swords and practically ripped the door open.

And the moment he did, he was met with utter chaos.

Inn workers rushed past carrying large buckets of water while other patrons shouted over the dark clouds of smoke, rushing down the hallway in frantic attempts of escape.

"Zoro, the building's on fire!" Chopper exclaimed from Robin's shoulder, arms wrapped around her neck as she tried to follow the crowd toward the stairs.

"We need to leave! Quickly!" the woman added, expression slightly tainted by worry.

"I don't know why you waste your time with these assholes, Nami-swan," Sanji grumbled, one hand holding hers while the other dragged the bastard she was robbing by the scruff of his neck, his face severely bruised. "The hell you standing around for, mosshead?! We gotta move!"

"Luffy and the others went on ahead! So come on!" Nami barked through her cloth mouth-covering.

"Where's (y/n)?!" Zoro asked, frantically.

The four froze in their tracks, the color instantly draining from their faces.

"She's not with you?!"

You had been avoiding the swordsman like the plague after the incident.

If he was honest, he doubted you would ever even look in his direction again, much less come to his side in a crisis.

Those days were over...

'SHIT!'

"Head outside! I'm goin' back for her!" he barked, roughly pushing through the sea of people to get to your room.

"Zoro, wait!" Chopper exclaimed.

"That half of the building completely ablaze!" Robin called. "Be careful!"

"I don't care if you burn to death trying, you better bring her back safely, moss for brains!" Sanji spat, Nami quickly moving to drag him toward the staircase.

Their noise went in one ear and out the other as he charged down the hall, expression wild with worry as he attempted to reign in his thoughts from your burning corpse to just you.

From the flow of the smoke, he could tell it was coming from the direction of your room, though he wasn't sure where.

But the thought only quickened his pace.

The further he trekked, the thicker the smoke got, and the harder it became to breath, his nose in the crook of his elbow doing little to shield his lungs.

"(y/n)!" he shouted over the distant, roaring flames. "C'mon, (y/n), sound off! (y/n)!"

His heart felt like it was in his ass, bile tearing at his throat like a raging river.

If something happened to you...

If you died with the terms you two left on...

If you died without allowing him to say all the things on his mind...

He'd never forgive himself.

"Fuck! (y/n)!" Zoro shouted, a cold shiver running down his spine despite the rising heat. "(y/n)!"

After what felt like a millennia, he finally reached the door to your room, frantically jiggling the handle only to find it was locked.

Blood rushed through his ears at the thought of you inside, so much so that he didn't even register the singeing burn of the metal against the palm of his hand.

"(y/n)! (y/n), open the door!"

And then he hears it.

Your small, faint voice, thick with exhaustion and fatigue.

"Zo... ro!"

"I'm comin', baby! Move out the way!"

Without hesitation, he drew his sword, winding up with practiced ease.

"Zoro, no!"

"108 Caliber Phoenix!"

In an instant, the door was gone, but the swordsman was more concerned with the familiar face running toward him.

Your silhouette emerged from the smokey air, clad in nothing but the thinnest tank top known to man, and a small pair of Nami's shorts.

Utterly relieved, you collided with his solid frame, arms wrapping around him like a vice as if he'd disappear if you let him go.

"(y/n)," he huffed into your ear, his arms find home around your waist like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. "You came back in here? The hell were you thinkin'?"

His words were angry, but tone so soft as his hand traveled to the back of your head to pull you further into him.

Smoothly, his free hand hooked under your thighs, effortlessly scooping you up and carrying out the building as it burned to the ground.

Finally outside, the two of you stood with each other, silently, as Robin conversed with the inn keeper about the start of the blaze.

The both of you were quite a sight.

Zoro, covered in soot, hair mussed from tossing and turning, in nothing but his black boxers.

You, covered in soot, hair wild from tossing and turning, in nothing but a thin shirt and tiny shorts.

Though you, in particular, seemed to be what the male population outside were more fond of.

And, of course, your swordsman took notice almost instantly.

"You guys need somethin'?" the words spilled from his lips like venom, his grip on his scabbard tightening ever so slightly as he shifted his stance to shield you from the eyes of a nearby group of men.

They were standing not too far away, gawking at you as if you were some sort of attraction at a fair.

And under the infamous glare of the pirate hunter, they all scurried away like startled deer, earning an annoyed scoff from the mosshead before he returned his gaze straight—all while still taking his mandatory glance at you every minute or so.

Somehow, you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you, the ginormous bonfire sitting in front of you painting your face with beautiful red and orange light.

Maybe it was relief.

Maybe it was his guilt.

He wasn't sure.

But what he was sure of was that he needed to get off what was on his chest before it was too late.

"That was stupid," he started, curtly, as he turned to you. "Comin' back in for me like that. You could've gotten hurt... or worse."

You exhaled sharply out of your nose, slowly shifting to face him.

"I was already out here when the others told me you'd stayed behind to go look for me. I couldn't let you do that 'cause God knows you wouldn't have come out unless you dragged me from the flames with you."

"You're damn right, I wouldn't have," he replied, sharply, though without an ounce of malice in his voice. "But the difference between you and me is that I can take it."

"Oh, that's the difference? I can't take it?" your brow arched, harshly, as you poked his bare chest. "I'm not some delicate flower, Zoro. I can take care of myself. You forfeited all right to do that for me a few weeks ago."

"You know I don't give a damn about rights, (y/n)," Zoro scoffed, shifting his weight on his feet. "I give a damn about you not burning to death."

"Little late for that..." you mumbled under your breath, though Zoro had heard loud and clear.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"Hey," he started, pointedly, grabbing onto your arm with a soft yet firm touch. "Look, I know I'm an asshole, but no matter how much you refuse to believe it... I care about you. I care a whole damn lot."

He sighed, taking a deep breath.

"I know I didn't show it well when we were together, but that's not something that's gonna change 'cause of where we're at right now."

Your eyes widened slightly, surprised by the sudden, vulnerable confession.

It was completely out of character for him, and the way he raked an anxious hand through his green hair let you know that he knew it, too.

"(y/n), I... you..." he stumbled, tone rising with frustration toward himself. "I fucked up... I fucked up a lot. I took a good thing for granted and didn't know it until you were gone."

His eyes found yours, the sheer sincerity and regret in his iris nearly knocking you over.

The sudden urge to hug the swordsman overtook your hands, your fingers twitching to reach out to him.

But you knew better, and given the circumstances it was almost laughable that he'd be the one needing comfort.

"(y/n)... you mean the world to me... and more than anything, I want you to be happy... even if that happiness is because I'm gone," Zoro stated, not a single waver in his voice as his calloused hand carefully slid into yours, caressing your skin with such a reverence you'd think you were fine china.

It forced a swell of warmth to radiate through your stomach, spreading all the way down to your toes.

His touch felt like coming home, a feeling that scared you to no end, but granted you immense solace nonetheless.

Not a day went by without you missing him, missing what you both used to be, and not a night without you wishing he was still by your side.

"I don't expect forgiveness. And I refuse to ask it of you," he continued, glancing down at your conjoined hands with a wistful look. "But if there's anything I want you to know... it's that I'm sorry... and that I love you."

A small gasp left your lips, his words nearly striking you dumb.

You were almost certain the word "sorry" wasn't in his vocabulary...

"And no matter where you go... or who else you may turn to... know that I'll always be here for you whenever you need me."

At that, he released your hand, the sudden coldness burning more than any flame could.

This wasn't what you wanted.

Hell, none of this was.

You knew what you wanted.

You'd known this whole time.

And now it had finally said the words you'd been waiting for it to say for over a month.

Feeling dismissed by your stunned silence, Zoro's expression turned emotionless, and he turned to go take a walk, or find some sake bottle to drown his sorrows in—whichever came first.

But before he could step away, you quickly grabbed his arm, spinning him back around before futility slamming your fists on his chest, not fazing him in the slightest.

"Damn it! I don't want to turn to anyone else!" you huffed, looking up at him with glassy eyes. "I want you, you asshole! ...But you just can't seem to get it through that thick head of yours."

Without warning, you flicked him harshly on the forehead, earning a sharp wince.

"OW! The hell was that for?!"

"You're stupid... arrogant... and rude. You have no manners, the mouth of a sailor, and the blood-lust of a demon from hell," you listed, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek in your palm, the man leaning into your touch almost instantly.

You felt so soft...

And your words only brought back memories of playful nights bickering.

God, how could he have gone a month without this?

"But I love you... so much... and I can't imagine anyone else by my side... not even if I tried."

Zoro's eyes widened slightly at your confession, but in them laid a small flicker of hope.

One you faintly recognized.

"Zoro... if we do this again... it can't be the same..." you warned, resting your hands on his chest. "I can't go through all that another time, and I won't. 'Cause at the first sign, I'm walking away."

"You have my word," he promised, as if it was an irrefutable fact, resting his firm hand over your soft one, which sat above his heart. "If you ever do, you have full permission to kill me."

"Cute you think I need permission for that," you chuckled, playfully raising your brow. "You should be more worried about who gets to you first: me or Nami?"

The man shivered at the thought, cracking a small smile at your amused expression.

Leaning down, he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, deciding against the option of your lips in favor of taking things slow.

He didn't want to overwhelm you.

"Point taken."

Effortlessly, he scooped you up, relishing in your tiny squeak, as well as the feeling of your arms snaking around his neck.

For the first time in thirty-six days, the world felt right, and his chest felt whole.

The hold you had on the swordsman was almost terrifying; but, he'd be damned if he let anything loosen it ever again, himself included.

So, he started the trek back to the Sunny, fighting off the grin threatening to break onto his face as you rested your head against his chest.

"Now... let's get you into somethin' a little warmer. Gonna get sick like this."

"Zoro, you're in your underwear..."

"And?"

"I—y'know what? ...Nevermind."

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #op

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 1 year ago

Text

Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader

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purplereina11 · 2 months ago

Text

The Perfect Shot Series You go on a sightseeing day with Alexia

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Conversations surrounding drugs

You were sat in one of the many seats of Badalonas home ground had to offer working away the sun high in the sky this mornings early training session had come to an end and the girls were long gone for the day leaving you alone with your work, you usually went home but with only a small balcony that didn’t get the sun you opted to stay and sit in the crisp Barcelona air the sun gently warming you. Your phone buzzing interrupted your flow, you looked at it sat on the seat beside you, and you felt your lips tug at the sides.

Alexia Putellas has requested to follow you

Alexia Putellas has requested to send you a message

You saw on the screen the two notifications that peaked your interest and your heart rate, you didn’t hesitate to lift your phone, you hastily accepted her follow request before going to your messages.

You are quite possibly the hardest person to find online

You messaged with Alexia, your laptop cast a side your mounting work load forgotten as you exchanged messages with Alexia, she soon hinted she was free before outright asking if she could see you today after not seeing each other for four days, with a location and a promise you packed your belongings up and headed home in your car to get an uber into the city to meet its hero.

You were nervous moving through the streets to get where Alexia said she’d be relying on your google maps hoping it was taking you to the correct place. You soon caught sight of her in a baseball cap that did something to you that was far too early to be thinking those thoughts about her, or was it? Who puts a timeline on those things anyway. “Hola” she spoke standing up off the wall she leant on her lips tugging in a little smile that always made your heart not beat in its normal rhythm.

As the sun sat high above Barcelona, casting a golden glow over the city, you and Alexia found yourselves ready to embark on an adventure that promised to be filled with laughter, discovery, and cherished moments. The air was alive with the scent of fresh pastries from nearby bakeries, and the vibrant colours of the city called out to you like an artist's palette, eager to be explored. Alexia pointed to where she was taking you first.

Your first stop was the bustling Mercat de Sant Josep de la Boqueria, a historic market that stood as a feast for the senses. As you entered, the sights and sounds enveloped you—vibrant stalls overflowing with fresh fruits, aromatic spices, and the rich hues of cured meats. Alexia's eyes sparkled with delight as she led you through the vibrant aisles, encouraging you to sample everything from juicy strawberries to tangy olives.

“Try this!” she exclaimed, handing you a piece of jamón ibérico, “It’s one of my favourite things, I’d eat it everyday, I do eat it every day actually” she joked making you laugh as she tried the sample. The exquisite Spanish ham that melted in your mouth. The flavors danced on your palate, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Together, you wandered through the market, sharing bites of delicious treats and laughing at the amusing encounters with vendors who playfully teased you both.

As you savored the last bite of jamón, Alexia grabbed your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. "Come on," she said with a mischievous grin, "I want to show you something." She led you out of the market and into the winding streets of the Gothic Quarter.

The narrow alleys were a maze of history and charm, with centuries-old buildings leaning in close as if sharing secrets. Alexia seemed to know every hidden corner, pulling you down tiny passageways and through hidden squares. You found yourself completely lost, but utterly captivated by her infectious energy and the magic of the city.

"Close your eyes," Alexia instructed softly, her hand still firmly in yours. You obliged, trusting her completely despite the butterflies in your stomach. She guided you forward a few more steps before coming to a halt, "Open your eyes," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear making certain places come alive if only briefly. You obliged, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation.

As your eyes fluttered open, you gasped in wonder. Before you stood a hidden courtyard, a secret oasis tucked away from the bustling streets. Lush greenery climbed the weathered stone walls, and a small fountain trickled softly in the center, its gentle melody mingling with the distant sounds of the city.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, taking in the scene. Alexia beamed at your reaction, her eyes alight with pride and something else—something warm and inviting that made your heart skip a beat.

"I discovered this place by accident a few years ago," she explained, leading you to a wrought-iron bench nestled beneath a canopy of fragrant jasmine. "It's my little sanctuary in the city. I've never brought anyone here before."

As you sat down beside her, the weight of her words settled over you. This wasn't just another tourist spot—this was a piece of her she was sharing with you. The intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on you, and you felt a surge of affection for this woman who had so quickly become such an important part of your life.

"Thank you for showing me this," you said softly, your eyes meeting hers.

Alexia's smile softened, and she reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm glad you like it," she murmured. "I wanted to share it with you, I knew you’d appreciate it, I thought it would be something you’d like to photograph"

“Would you mind?” You asked tentatively- hand already on your phone, Alexia gave you the softest smile before nodding, you moved steps away from her and began doing what you honestly did best.

As you raised your phone to capture the beauty of the hidden courtyard, you couldn't help but focus on Alexia. She sat on the bench, bathed in dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. Her baseball cap cast a soft shadow across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheekbones and the warmth in her eyes.

You snapped a few shots, trying to capture the essence of the moment - the serenity of the space, the play of light and shadow, and most importantly, the captivating woman at the center of it all. Alexia watched you with amusement, her lips quirked in that smile that never failed to make your heart race.

"How about one together?" she suggested, patting the spot next to her on the bench. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you sat down beside her. Alexia leaned in close, her shoulder brushing against yours as you held up the phone to take a selfie. The warmth of her body next to yours made your pulse quicken. You could smell the faint scent of her perfume - something that seemed to linger, you smelt it for days after your last meeting.

"Smile!" you said, trying to keep your voice steady. As you both grinned at the camera, Alexia suddenly turned her head and reached up with her hand turning your head planted a kiss on your lips just as you snapped the photo. The unexpected gesture caught you off guard, and you felt a rush of heat flood your face.

"Let me see!" Alexia said eagerly, reaching for your phone. You handed it over, still a bit dazed from the kiss. She swiped through the photos, her eyes lighting up. "Do you always have your eyes open when we kiss?” she teased

You felt your cheeks flush even more at her teasing comment. "I, uh... I wasn't exactly prepared for that," you stammered, a mix of embarrassment and delight coursing through you.

Alexia's laughter rang out, light and melodious in the quiet courtyard. "Well, we'll just have to try again then, won't we?" she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Before you could respond, she leaned in once more, this time slower, giving you a moment to catch your breath and close your eyes.

Her lips met yours, soft and warm, and you felt yourself melting into the kiss. Time seemed to stand still in that hidden oasis, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this secret garden. Your hand found its way to her cheek, thumb brushing against her skin as you deepened the kiss. Your body came alive when her hand gently placed on your thigh, as she moved her upper body closer as your mouths moved perfectly together her hand tantalisingly ran up your thigh over your jeans, moving up to your waist. It took everything in you to not moan right then and there.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both a little breathless. The kissing was certainly heating up between you, the more comfortable you both got.

"Better?" Alexia asked, her voice slightly husky.

You nodded, unable to find words as you gazed into her eyes, still dazed from the intensity of the kiss. Alexia's hand remained on your waist, her thumb tracing small circles that sent tingles through your body.

"Much better," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Though I think we might need more practice, just to be sure."

Alexia's eyes lit up with amusement and desire. "Oh, I think that can be arranged," she purred, leaning in for another quick peck on your lips.

Alexia's smile widened, a mix of tenderness and desire in her eyes. She leaned in again, this time resting her forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture made your heart swell.

"I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you today," she confessed softly. "Actually, I've been wanting to do that since our last date."

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for her. "Me too," you admitted. "I couldn't stop thinking about you these past four days."

Alexia's eyes softened at your words, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "I couldn't stop thinking about you either," she murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on your waist. "That's why I couldn't wait to see you again."

The air between you felt charged with possibility, the hidden courtyard providing a cocoon of privacy that made you feel bold. You leaned in, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. Alexia responded eagerly, her hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of her body pressed against yours, in the quiet sounds of pleasure she made. When you finally broke apart, both breathless and flushed, you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"We should probably cool off a bit," you said, though your body was nothing but cool.

Alexia nodded, her eyes still dark with desire. "You're right," she agreed, though she made no move to put distance between you. "We should probably explore more of the city. I have so much I want to show you."

You reluctantly stood up, immediately missing the warmth of her body against yours. Alexia took your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, savouring the way your fingers intertwined so naturally, as she led you out of the hidden courtyard and back into the winding streets of the Gothic Quarter. As you left the hidden courtyard, you felt a pang of regret at leaving your private oasis, but excitement for what else the day might bring.

The streets of the Gothic Quarter were still bustling with life as you emerged. Alexia led you through the maze-like alleys, pointing out interesting architectural details and sharing snippets of history. Her knowledge of the city was impressive.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestones as you strolled hand in hand, Alexia pointing out hidden gems and sharing stories about the city she clearly loved. You found yourself falling not just for her, but for Barcelona itself, seeing it through her eyes.

As you turned a corner, the imposing facade of the Barcelona Cathedral came into view, its Gothic spires reaching towards the sky. Alexia tugged at your hand to keep you moving, “Come on”

“but I” you said only briefly looking to her looking back up at the Cathedral you were in awe of.

“Later” she promised gently squeezing your hand, “I’ve got us a closed visit inside first"

The promise of an exclusive visit inside the Barcelona Cathedral sent a jolt of excitement through you. Alexia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself eager to explore yet another facet of this enchanting city with her by your side. The towering Gothic structure loomed above, its intricate details beckoning you closer, but it was the thought of being with Alexia that made your heart race.

As you entered the cathedral, the air shifted, becoming cool and reverent. The high ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly, adorned with ornate carvings and stained glass that cast colourful patterns onto the stone floor. You felt a sense of tranquility wash over you, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the streets outside.

“Isn’t it incredible?” Alexia whispered, her voice barely above a hush. She glanced at you, your eyes wide with awe, and she couldn’t help but smile at the way your passion illuminated the space.

“It really is,” you replied, your gaze sweeping over the grandeur of the cathedral. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

As you moved deeper into the cathedral, Alexia followed you to a quiet corner where the light filtered through the stained glass, creating a magical play of colours. You took a moment to soak it all in, and she watched you, captivated not just by the beauty of the space but by your genuine appreciation for it. “Each window tells a story,” she explained, pointing to a particularly vibrant panel that depicted a scene from a biblical tale. “They’re like paintings, capturing moments in time.”

You leaned closer, admiring the craftsmanship. “It’s like art that breathes life into history,” you said, glancing at her.

“Exactly! That’s why I love it here,” she said, beaming. “Places like this remind me of the connection we all share, no matter where we come from.”

The moment felt intimate, the two of you surrounded by centuries of history as you shared your thoughts. The world outside faded away, and in that hushed sanctuary, it was just you and Alexia, your fingers re-intertwined her thumb gently moving back and forth over your hand as you maintained eye contact. “We can’t kiss in a Cathedral” you whispered with a smile, she laughed gently, she took a few steps back your arms extending her head flicked and you dutifully let her pull you along.

You moved towards the altar, where the golden accents glimmered in the soft candlelight. She could see the reverence in your eyes as you took it all in, and she felt a sense of gratitude for being able to share this experience with you.

“Can you imagine the ceremonies that have taken place here?” You mused, your voice barely above a whisper. “The joy, the sadness, the love... it all resonates within these walls.”

She nodded, the weight of your words sinking in. “if the walls could talk huh?,” she added, feeling the depth of the moment.

As you explored further, Alexia’s excitement bubbled over when she spotted a spiral staircase leading up to the rooftop. “Come on! I want to show you the view!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The climb was steep, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her exuberance. “You’re like a kid in a candy store!” you teased, but she just laughed, her joy infectious. “And also a professional athlete unlike my self so slow down”

When you finally reached the top, the view took your breath away. The sprawling city of Barcelona lay before you, a tapestry of terracotta rooftops and vibrant colours stretching out to the horizon. The Mediterranean shimmered in the distance, and the warm sunlight enveloped you in a golden embrace.

“Wow,” was all you could manage, your heart swelling at the beauty of it all.

Alexia stood beside you, her eyes scanning the landscape. “This is why I love this city,” she said softly. “Every corner has a story, every view is a memory waiting to happen.”

You turned to her, the words resonating deeply within you. Her gaze met yours, and in that moment, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in time. She moved you to stand between her and the view her arms coming around you, with a gentle smile, she leaned it, and gently kissed your cheek, feeling the warmth radiating between you. The view was breathtaking, but it was the connection you shared that made the moment truly unforgettable neither saying a word just enjoying being in the moment plus Alexia didn’t want to disturb you taking your pictures. She was mesmerised how you worked your iPhone camera, the way you changed multiple settings between each picture, she usually just pointed and clicked.

Eventually, you both descended from the rooftop, laughter echoing in the stairwell as you reminisced about your adventures so far. “What’s next on the agenda?” you asked playfully, eager to see where the day would take you.

“There’s a little café nearby that serves the best churros,” she said, her eyes lighting up at the thought. “We can’t leave without trying them!”

With a shared sense of excitement, you made your way back through the cathedral and out into the sun-drenched streets of Barcelona after thanking the woman Alexia spoke to in Spanish thanking her for the private access. The bustling energy of the city welcomed you back, and you felt invigorated, ready for whatever adventures awaited. Alexia gave you your time outside to muse at the Cathedral take it in for all it was. You turned and spotted Alexia stood away from you watching you through the people, her soft expression drawing you back over. “Where’s these churros though?”

As you walked side by side, sharing stories and laughter, you knew that this day was just the beginning of something beautiful—an exploration of both the city and the connection you were building with Alexia. Each moment felt like a brushstroke on the canvas of your relationship, and you couldn’t wait to see how the masterpiece would unfold.

The café was charming, with outdoor seating that invited the sun to bathe you in warmth. As you settled at a small table, you could hardly contain your excitement for the churros to come. Alexia’s face lit up as she placed the order, and you felt a rush of affection for her enthusiasm.

When the churros arrived, they were golden and crispy, dusted with sugar and accompanied by a rich chocolate dipping sauce. Alexia’s eyes sparkled with delight as she took her first bite, letting out a satisfied moan that made your heart flutter.

“See? I told you they were amazing!” she exclaimed, offering you a piece. You took it, savouring the perfect combination of crunch and sweetness.

“Okay, you were right,” you admitted, grinning at her. “These are incredible.” As you enjoyed the treats, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and playful teasing. You felt completely at ease. “Didn’t you say we couldn’t spend as many hours together as we normally do because you have a family dinner”

Alexia nodded checking her watch, “I’ve got an hour two yet”

Alexia walked you to the beach as the sun hung low in the sky, casting a orangey glow over the gentle waves, the atmosphere felt almost ethereal. The beach, with its soft sands and the rhythmic lullaby of the ocean, became a sanctuary for you and Alexia, a place where time seemed to stand still. The world, with all its noise and chaos, faded away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of tranquility. The threat of Alexia having to rush off soon hanging over you both.

As you walked along the shoreline, the cool breeze tousled your hair, and the salty air filled your lungs with a refreshing essence. The faint sounds of laughter and music from nearby beach bars created a backdrop, but your focus was solely on her. Alexia, with her playful spirit and infectious smile, was a beacon of warmth and light.

With a spark of spontaneity, she bent down to scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through her fingers as she turned to you. “You know, this is my favourite place to reflect,” she shared, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I come here to think.” You could see the depth in her eyes, a glimpse of the soul behind the celebrated athlete.

You began to share your own stories, tales of dreams and aspirations, of challenges faced and victories cherished. In her presence, vulnerability felt like strength, and you found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Alexia listened intently, her gaze unwavering, as if every word you spoke was a treasure she wanted to hold close.

Alexia’s gaze was fixed on the side of your face as you spoke, “I don’t speak to my family, haven’t had any contact in about six months and it’s been difficult and a lot to comprehend but it’s not by choice”

“Si?”

“The last time I saw my family I was told to leave and never go back, I was an embarrassment and a disappointment to them” You could feel the anger from Alexia and with the information you’d provided her, it wasn’t justified but your family was justified. You took a breath, “I met a girl on a night out, she brought me into a world and into situations I one should have known better and two I wasn’t equipped to handle.” You lowered your head, “I know and want to be honest with you but I don’t want you to think differently of me”

“We all have a past Y/N”

You smiled to yourself, “There’s a past, then theres, mine.” You sighed, “I’m just going to say it and if you want to walk away and never speak to me again then I won’t blame you” You began moving again, “It started with a bit of weed to help me relax” You paused, Alexia didn’t react her expression giving nothing away when you glanced to her, “Then it turned into pills on a night out, which changed to cocaine and before I knew it I was cooking meth and was a shell of my former self. I completely lost everything, I was a complete bitch to the people who tried to help me and and loved me, I broke my families hearts and I don’t think I could ever fix that and its something” You paused feeling the tears your head lowered when Alexia used her thumb to wipe them away, she didn’t run. “It’s something I struggle with, why I don’t talk about it”

Alexia gently wiping away your tears without a word her fingers laced into yours, she led you to a secluded spot where the waves kissed the shore in a gentle caress she took a seat on the sand, patting the space beside her. You settled next to her, the warmth of her body radiating against the coolness of the night. In this moment, it felt as if the universe knew what you needed and an none judgemental blonde was it.

“Have you ever thought about what it means to chase after your passions?” she mused, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand. “For me, football is not just a sport; it’s an expression of who I am.” Her voice was laced with a profound sincerity that resonated deeply within you.

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of her words. “I believe our passions shape us, guiding us to places we never imagined we could go. Like now, I never expected to end up working in Barcelona.”

She smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “That’s the magic of life, isn’t it? The unexpected moments that shape our journey,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Our pasts shape us but they don’t define us” you turned your head to Alexia already looking at you, “We aren’t defined by what happens in the past but rather by how we respond to what happens to us, you chased after your passion despite a lot of people around you telling you to do other wise. I admired your strength from within yourself from the moment I met you, and all you’ve done by telling me your past is make me admire that in you even more. It changes nothing for me, I’m touched you felt you could share that with me”

You whole body softened at her words, your heart wanting to leap out your chest grab hold and never let go, “Thank you”

“No need to thank me” She turned her head out to the ocean as the waves continued their rhythmic dance, you both sat in comfortable silence, lost in thought. The planes above coming into land twinkled like diamonds scattered across a dark velvet cloth, each one a reminder of the endless possibilities that awaited.

Eventually, the conversation flowed back into light-hearted banter, filled with playful teasing and laughter. Alexia challenged you to a friendly competition, daring you to race to the water’s edge. With a gleam in her eye, she sprinted ahead, her laughter echoing in the night air. You chased after her, exhilaration coursing through your veins, the chase feeling more like a dance than a race.

When you reached the water, breathless and laughing, the cool waves splashed against your feet, sending chills of delight through your body. She turned to you, her hair glistening in the fading light, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt perfect. Walking back hand in hand, the warmth of her grip enveloped you.

When you reached her car, she paused for a moment, turning to you with a look of sincerity. “I’ll see you soon” she said softly, and in her eyes, you saw a flicker of hope and a hint of something deeper.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with determination. As you exchanged a final lingering glance, you felt a spark, a whisper of destiny echoing in your heart.

“Is your uber nearly here?” Alexia asked not wanting to leave you alone on the pavement, you nodded showing her your phone showing the driver only minutes away, with a press of your lips, a wave and a promise of future adventures, you watched as she drove away, the night air filled with the remnants of laughter and the sweet taste of her lips lingering. Barcelona had woven its magic around you, but it was Alexia who had truly captured your heart, leaving you yearning for the next chapter in this enchanting story that had just begun.

#alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #woso #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas one shot #fcb femeni

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awakittie · 3 months ago

Note

jinx x fem chubby reader smut like first time (but sweet like a lil vanilla yk)

You’re Perfect

(border creds to @/cafekitsune)

cw. cunnilingus, reader has issues with their body, slight angst (eventful fluff) reader is f but uses they / them prns

pairings. chubby!reader / jinx

wc. 2k

MDNI 18+

thank u so much for the req! i hope i did it justice =^.^=

you’d never imagined your first time with jinx to go this way. but you soon realise you wouldn’t have it any other way; jinx’s lips on yours, coaxing soft whines and moans from your own, hips moving, slotting between your legs.

you find yourself where you are now when the two of you were having a horror movie marathon; she’d insisted the two of you have one to celebrate halloween. usually you wouldn’t cave, being far too scared of her picks, but with all hallows eve right around the corner, you figured why not. wouldn’t hurt, right?

correct!

you feel yourself jolt at the hand on your thigh, and you see jinx in your peripheral, biting on her bottom lip supposedly to suppress the smirk blooming through. you stiffen.

the two of you had never done anything before— well, that’s a lie. you’d done some stuff, some simple grinding and making out, but whenever she gets too close, too handsy, you always have to tell her no.

she obliges of course, pouting with a curt nod of her head before she settles back beside you with a flop.

you’d always felt insecure in your weight, in the rolls of your stomach, the way your arms seem just about too big to be proportionate. you’d never tell jinx this, as you know she’d just go on a whole tangent. or at least, you think.

what if she just laughs?

what if she laughs in your face, telling you that your suspicions are in fact true?

would she ever want to touch you again?

surely not.

.. does she want to touch you? or does she just feel obligated? surely she does, right? some people feel that way in relationships and jinx’s past would suggest the latter — feeling like she has to do stuff in order for praise, for people to not leave her.

surely not.

you jolt to a halt, eyes frozen and wavering on the tv. you seem to get tunnel vision with the way you stare up at the tv. jinx notices, cocking her head your way and slipping her hand down to your knee, rubbing loose circles into the skin there.

“you good?” she has her usual quip, tilting her head into your line of sight. “you’re frozen like a gargoyle—“

she giggles to herself, before your eyes meet her own. you watch the pink in her eyes shrink at the attention, pupils taking up all the space in her iris. she snaps out of whatever stupor she was in, suddenly adorning an expression of fright.

“shit, did i do something?” she gasps, flinching away from your knee like it was scalding hot. “fuck, i did something! i did something, didn’t i?”

it’s your turn to be mortified, jaw dropping as you bring your hands up, waving them in surrender in front of you. “no, nonono— you haven’t done anything, I swear,”

she blinks, once. twice. three, four times before the weight finally seems to sag from her shoulders. she lets out a breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding, sniffling out a sharp ‘whew’.

“i just—..” you start, cringing at the way your voice cracks. should you even go there? what if she thinks you’re disgusting for thinking that way?

she seems attentive enough, and you swear if she had ears on the top of her head they’d be standing upright. she perks up, uncharacteristically straightening her usually curved back.

fuck, get over yourself, [name].

“i’m scared that maybe if we ever went further with..” you cringe, scrunching your nose as you ponder the next few words. “y’know. exploring each other,”

you mentally face palm, the comedic slap ringing through your head.

you’re dumbfounded.

“you’d maybe think i was disgusting for the way i look?” you draw out the last word, feeling yourself shudder at the second hand embarrassment.

jinx doesn’t even look phased — at most bewildered.

she sighs, letting her head drop, eyes tunneling down onto her fidgeting hands. she seemed to be nervous for what you wanted to say too, but you’re pulled back from your thoughts at the hand taking your own.

“i don’t… care.” she states simply, sounding almost defeated you’re having this conversation, like you should already know she doesn’t care how you look.

you sag. this is not the answer you wanted, and she notices this.

“no— i do care!” she starts up again, waving a hand in admission. “i just mean i don't mind how you look. i think you’re.. beautiful. i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

she sighs, scrunching her nose and recoiling at her words like they left a sour taste in her mouth. she hates being open, being honest with you. she’s afraid it makes her look weak, like her vulnerability takes away from the big scary jinx persona she’s built up for herself over the past however long you’d known each other.

( 2 years! )

“you don’t mean that.” you state simply, squeezing her hand in your own.

“what makes you think i don’t?” she queries, eyes flitting up at your huddled form. “you know how much i love you.”

you feel a jolt down between your legs, a familiar warmth blooming in your belly. she seems sincere enough, but that void that fills your lungs seems to only grow thicker and thicker. it almost hurts to breathe.

what if you just let go this one time? this one time? ‘if you hate it you never have to do it again’ you tell yourself. in your head you’re standing opposite yourself, leering over their cowering body before comedically slapping their face, forcing some sense into them.

get it together.

you can’t deny how much you want her, and you feel almost possessed when you lean forward, tilting your head to meet hers. she seems taken aback, moaning softly into the kiss as her hand finds your face.

her thumb meets your jaw, rubbing soothing circles into the bone. you suck in a breath when her teeth meet your bottom lip, and you reciprocate with fervour, clambering to situate yourself over top of her.

she kisses her way down your neck, shaking her head with a curt ‘nuh uh!’. once she has your shirt off she’s turning you so you’re on your back, left flushed beneath her — and most importantly naked.

you feel the most exposed you’ve ever felt, but you don’t feel insecure. under jinx’s warm gaze you can feel just how much she wants you, the way her smile reaches her eyes before she leans in to the junction of your neck. her hands trail upward, sliding further up up up till they reach your chest.

gasping out her name, you buck up instinctively into her touch. you find yourself heaving beneath her hand, swift and admiring grasp at your chest, gently circling over your sensitive nipple.

“jinx..” you sigh, shuddering up into her touch. you feel love drunk, words sloshing together as though you could barely keep your head up.

she seems to notice, humming a chuckle into your neck. that chuckle follows her down, down past your chest, past your stomach where she now sits, laid between your legs. trembling, you can only watch as she situates your legs over her shoulders, holding them there by curling her arms over top.

“you— you don’t have to—“ you’re cut off by a light slap against your thigh. your eyes fall, jaw dropped in a balk to where she’s laid, pointer finger pressed against her thumb where she drags it along her lips. zzzzzzip!

she throws away the makeshift key.

then contradicts the motion like she hadn’t just done it.

“i want to. you hear me?” she tilts her head, resting against the slope of your thigh. “i want to.”

nodding shakily, you allow yourself to situate back against the pillows. you feel at ease knowing she wants this, even if it’s only at least a bit. though she does seem eager; tongue darting out to comically lick at her lip, fingers curling over the laced rim of your panties.

she pulls and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. fully exposed now, jinx looks like she just won the lottery — if her pupils could shift and change at will she’d be seeing dollar signs right now. she looks between you and your pussy, bringing two fingers down to slide through your slit, gathering up all the slick that’d gathered there.

your underwear is soaked, and you see that now with her jeering beneath you, swinging your underwear jokingly around her finger.

“you’re soaked, baby.” she muses, cocking a brow and letting your panties drop to the floor. “this all for me?”

your body seems to react before your mind, and you’re nodding rapidly, hair shaking from the intensity. she can see you’re eager, and so wastes no more time in parting your thighs. she hums out a sigh, drawing a long inhale up the center, before letting her tongue part your lips, licking her way through to your sopping hole.

the reaction is instantaneous; bucking hips and lips parting to accommodate the sharp gasp that’s ripped from you. the gasp trembles off into a whine when she places a well-deserved flick over your clit, drawing her tongue there for a moment longer just to see you squirm. her hand finds your abdomen, pressing on your stomach to keep you from bucking up from her touch.

she wants control.

your earlier hesitation melts away, dripping off jinx’s tongue and down her chin. you heave, chest trembling at her ministrations. she’s good — far too good. the sloppy sounds fill the secluded room, filling the space with a stuffy heat that feels suffocating. you feel it squeezing at your lungs, encouraging the soft moans you manage to choke out.

she smirks, snarky and knowing. the look in her eyes is almost enough to send you over the edge, the coil tightening a mile in your abdomen. you’re on the brink of an orgasm, legs trembling and brows drawing up right as she makes the move of pressing tight circles into your clit.

“you can come, honey,” she coaxes, pressing soothing kisses over your soaking pussy, now just as soaked as her mouth. “come on, baby.”

peering up and over your chest is the final straw; the sight of her covered in your juices, dripping from her chin. the dark void that drowns the pinks in her eyes, full of lust. the way her purple lipstick is smudged down the corners of her mouth.

it’s too much—

white hot pleasure crushes through your being, zipping up your spine as you finally reach the peak. you hear jinx somewhere beneath you, like she’s cheering you on. you feel her fingers, slim and soaked driving through your slick. the obscene sounds fill the room, against your moans — now bordering pornographic.

it’s a while till you come down fully from your high. hands dragging down the sides of your sweaty face. you can feel just how heated you are, and you know you must be beet-red by now.

the thought makes you flush even more in embarrassment.

jinx on the other hand, seems to be having the time of her life; crawling up your body to curl in beside you, snuggling close to your warmth. she beams from where she lays, resting her head on your chest and peering up curiously at you.

“you did so well,” she comments, stroking a thumb over the corner of your mouth.

she looks disheveled herself, hair frizzy and drawn upright. thank god for the braids, otherwise you’d imagine her hair sticking up in any and every direction ever. this warms your insides, makes it all fizzy. you assume this is what people mean when they say they have butterflies in their stomach.

you smile.

“you’re perfect.”

A.N yay first request done! plz check my pinned for info if you want to submit anything <3

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx x you #chubby!reader #arcane x reader #arcane x you #fanfiction

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v6quewrlds · 1 month ago

Note

Have you done a blurb or fic where Dr. Wifey being called wifey for the first time? If not, how would she react? Would she be 🤭 about it or like 🤨

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

Her entire body felt overheated, a fine sheen of sweat covering her skin as she pushed through the final set of weighted squats. It had been Joe's idea to hit the gym together, a chance to make best of the fleeting weekends they had to spend in each other's company. Naively, when Joe presented the idea of a gym date, she picked out her favorite athletic set, thinking it would be a relaxed session. Some cardio on the treadmill, a bit of teasing, maybe even a kiss here and there.

But Joe had different plans. She was sweaty, breathless, and a little irritated by the intense workout he had designed for her. He was pushing her to go heavier, do more reps, and never letting her take a break longer than she absolutely needed. If her tired glares and sarcastic quips were any indication, she couldn't say she was thrilled about the turn the date had taken.

Joe appeared mostly unaffected by the workout, his thick, brownish-blonde hair only slightly damp from the effort. Realistically, the workout was lightwork for the NFL quarterback. So despite her glares, he remained focused, providing her with a steady stream of motivation to keep her going.

"Come on, baby," he'd say, "just three more." It was never just three more, but she obliged, mostly to catch that look in sky blue eyes that crinkled with pride. The gym was relatively empty, the occasional clank of metal echoing through the space, the hum of the treadmills quite distant.

After what felt like hours, she finally reached the last set of barbell back squats. Her legs quivered under the weight, and she could feel the burn spreading through her thighs, core, and into the sides of her glutes. Joe's hand remained firmly planted on her waist, his eyes locked onto hers in the mirror, offering verbal cues and gentle corrections to her form.

"Inhale, baby, keep breathing," Joe's voice was calm and steady as he counted down her last few squats. She could feel the weight of the barbell digging into her shoulders, but she didn't dare let it drop.

He followed her movements diligently, squatting when she squatted, standing when she stood. His hands ready to catch the barbell should she falter. After each rep, he gave her a pat on the backside, a silent affirmation that she was doing well. "Good job, there you go," his voice was a comforting rumble in her ear. "Gimme two more," he encouraged, his hand pressing into her waist.

With a gritted smile, she pushed through the final two reps. She let out a sigh of relief as she racked the barbell, her muscles protesting. Joe's hand moved from her waist to the small of her back, and he leaned in to give her neck a kiss. "Great job, wifey," he murmured.

The name was uttered absentmindedly, but it hung in the air, thick, dizzying, and perfectly placed. Her smile widened and she turned to Joe, watching as his eyes glanced down to her lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own before pulling it between his teeth. The gym's cold air-conditioning did little to cool the sudden heat that had bloomed in her face.

"Wifey?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. She approached him, silkily, her heart beginning to race. His hands reached for her arms, pulling them around his neck as she stepped into his orbit before finding the curve of her waist. "Is that what you call all the girls you train with?" she teased, her voice light.

Joe's cheeks flushed, his eyes searching hers for a reaction. "Well, only the ones I want to marry one day," he replied, his voice a mix of seriousness and playfulness. The tension in the room thickened as they both took a moment to realize what he'd just said. It wasn't the first time the idea of marriage had entered their conversations, but it was the first time Joe had used the term so casually.

"Ones, plural?" she retorted, trying to keep her tone light despite the sudden acceleration of her heart.

He leaned in closer, his expression softening. "Only one," he murmured, his blue eyes searching hers, a hint of nerves playing on his features.

"I bet she's amazing and super smart," she said with a brightening smile.

His arms tightened around her, intensity clouding over his strong features. He nodded, a damp curl bouncing on his forehead. "She is," Joe agreed, his voice earnest. "Puts up with a lot of my shit and still loves me."

"She sounds like an angel," she whispered against his lips, smiling into the kiss. It was moments like these, rare and unguarded, that made all the distance and time apart worth it. They broke apart, both of them bashful but grinning from ear to ear.

#&. joe x doctor!reader: blurbs.#&. joey b.#been so productive the last few days 🙂‍↕️#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x black!reader #joe burrow x black reader

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willreigns · 9 months ago

Text

Mama’s Garden

It’s your birthday and your daughter wants to celebrate. Her father can do nothing but oblige.

A/N: My submission for Levi Month Day 21; Post-War: Children. ~1.3k words of pure angst.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

“Papa, do you think mama would like this?”

A single pebble. A shiny one at that. Levi gave it an expressionless glance and gave a firm nod.

“Mama would like anything you give her, Eden.”

Hardened eyes met soft bright ones, ones that broke out in innocent glee, ones that made Levi Ackerman’s heart swell. There was only one other person who had this effect on him.

You.

The little girl chucked the pebble into a worn pouch, along with other things she wanted to give you. It was your birthday today and Levi had been up early—partly by his own choice, the other because of the giddy toddler who had been preparing for this day for weeks. It had been hard to put Eden down to bed yesterday and the bags under Levi’s eyes were a testament to that.

The day was sunny and so Levi moved forward with his child’s plans, a picnic for mama. Stowed inside a basket were fruit—the ones you and Eden liked—some sandwiches she helped him make, and leftover stew from yesterday’s meal.

“Mama doesn’t like stew,” Eden huffed, wrinkling her nose.

“Mama doesn’t like it, or you don’t like it?”

Eden gave it a seemingly deep thought.

“Neither of us.”

Dinner time had been a struggle yesterday, too. She turned out to be as picky of an eater as her father.

It was less of a struggle now though, compared to a couple of years ago.

Right. Eden was almost five. How quickly the time has passed.

Time, Levi reflected with a pang, time that he wished he had more of.

“Papa,” a little girl with his features, but your eyes, called to him, “let’s pick flowers for mama.” He nodded before his thoughts could ensnare him again.

“This red one, and this blue one, and this pink one…”

It amazed Levi how much she’s grown. She used to be so small, would fit right into his hands like a dainty little package. Now, she counted to ten and back, knew colors, helped him water your garden. She already knew so many things—Levi sometimes found it hard to keep up.

“Mama, you’re going to like my bucket, I promise,” Eden whispered into one of the bell-shaped flowers, a habit she had ever since Levi had told her that you’d hear her if she spoke into them.

“It’s bouquet, Eden,” he corrected her gently and turning to head back to the house when she stopped him.

“Won’t we water the flowers today?”

Levi paused, a twinge of guilt tightening in his chest. So Eden has noticed; Levi has tried not to let the approaching date affect him, but your garden hasn’t been tended to in a week now. The weeds were beginning to creep in, some flowers were wilted and some of the bush was growing wildly in some places.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, his voice softening, “go get the watering can.”

Eden giggled with delight, small shoes pattering around the corner as Levi watched her disappear momentarily. The minutes felt long; a familiar worry settled in his bones, a worry he couldn’t quite shake when his daughter was out of sight.

Levi let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when Eden finally reappeared. Watering can in tow, they watered the garden together. Levi’s brows were furrowed in concentration, trying not to overwater like you’ve taught him before.

I’ll tend to this later, Levi silently promised as they left the small garden and headed back into the house. He watched as Eden said her goodbyes to each and every flower, exerting patience where there once was none.

With the small basket in tow and a giggling Eden following closely behind, Levi began the familiar trek to the fields to see you.

“Papa, how come you married mama?”

Your toddler exhibited such curiosity that could drive Levi mad at times, but nonetheless he ensured to give her the information she wanted.

“I loved your mama, so I married her.”

Words like love still felt foreign in the former captain’s mouth. Yet, with time, it was getting just a little easier to speak of it—to speak of you.

“So people marry for love?”

Not always.

Very rarely.

“Of course,” he answered, voice steady.

Soon, the cobblestone paths diverted into dirt walkways. The small patch of flowers that had been growing from the cracks of the stone brick now flowed wildly in this section of the road.

Past the willow tree and into the flower fields, alone and by a motionless lake, you were there.

This is where Levi let love in—where he let you in. This is where Levi proposed.

This is where you rested.

“Mama, happy birthday!” Eden exclaimed, her voice ringing out in the quiet air. She took a seat next to the familiar gravestone, pouch already open as she emptied out its contents on the patch of grass she sat on.

Levi watched her for a moment, the weight of the day finally pressing heavily on his heart. Finally, he set the basket down, hand brushing light over the cool stone.

“Here’s this pebble I found today. You can have it, I already have one like it in my room…”

Levi could feel his throat closing up as Eden continued speaking, explaining every single gift she’s brought and what it meant. The pebble, a pink bow she’d begged Levi to buy (a bow he thought was for her), a drawing of a big house and a family of three.

A family of three, Levi wished his family of two could be a family of three. So many nights he spent hoping you were alive somewhere, not just in his mind—those quiet hours when the house felt too empty, and the silence too heavy.

Emotion was getting harder to combat with age, but Levi tried with all his might to refrain from crying. No, today his daughter deserved a moment of happiness, even if you being gone was killing him inside. Even if being here was killing him inside.

But Levi couldn’t stop the tears even if he wanted to.

“Is papa crying?”

He quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.

“No, it’s water.”

“…There was water in papa’s eyes yesterday, too.”

Eden was just like you, always so annoyingly observant. Levi could feel his heart twist at her words.

The flowers swayed peacefully in this part of the field, their soft colors blending with the golden light of the afternoon. The wind blew against Levi’s hair, tickling his face as he watched Eden run and play. A small smile etched itself on his scarred face in this fleeting moment of calm.

When Eden finally tired, she helped her papa clean up and put everything back in the basket. The gifts would stay, except the drawing. Levi had to find a way to secretly take it back home.

“Can we come back soon,” Eden asked, a hint of sadness finally making its way through.

Levi gave a firm nod. “Of course.”

There was a silent pause, a moment of deliberation for the young girl.

“Papa, how come mama can’t be with us?”

She died at childbirth.

“She’s busy,” was Levi’s gruff response, before letting out a heavy sigh. “Mama’s taking care of us…from the sky.” Levi was weary of religion, but if it meant he could spare even a shred of innocence for his daughter for the time being, he’s taking it, no questions asked.

“Mama’s an angel?”

A silent pause.

“Yeah, sure kid.”

She grinned, curiosity quelled for a short minute, before another thought burst through her tiny mind.

“Will you also be an angel one day?”

Levi could feel his heart stop. He hoped so, if it meant he could see you one day. He missed you so much—he missed your smile, your laugh, your playful kisses despite his half-hearted protests. For a brief moment, he allowed himself the comfort of an afterlife with you.

“Yeah, one day,” he finally managed to say, his voice almost breaking.

Eden smiled, her small face lighting up with an innocence that tugged at Levi’s heart.

“Papa, I love you,” Eden says so suddenly, “Mama loves you, too.”

Levi’s breath hitches, a warmth spreading through his chest. His eyes soften, he breaks into a rare, tender smile, one that hadn’t come easily for years.

“I love the both of you, too.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi ackerman #captain levi #post war levi #dad levi #dad!levi #post-war!levi #levi #levimonth24 #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi angst

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Note

So I saw a post on Tumblr that read:

“Imagine getting fucked from behind in a broom closet of the house of wind by Rhysand, his fingers in your mouth and his breath against your ear whispering “quiet down pet, you don’t want Feyre to catch us huh?”

And I am so desperate for a fic inspired by this. 👀

I love Feysand so, so much, but the thought of this did something to me.

I love your work so I immediately came to you. If you write it, thank you!!! If not, thank you anyway bc I love all of your work!! Ok byeeeee

.......alright you got me....

Extramarital Escapes

Warnings - smut, affair, slightly dub/con, abuse of power on Rhysand's end

A/n - I don't normally enjoy the idea of an affair and cheating, but I turned this into something I can work with.

Part 2

This was wrong.

So very wrong.

You gasped as Rhys hit that spot inside of you again, growling as you clenched around him.

This was not what you had in mind when he hired you to be their live-in nanny. It had started innocent enough. Rhys would seek out your company when Feyre would head into Velaris. There were short glances, a soft touch to reach around you at times. Those touches slowly became longer, though. They lingered on your waist, the sides of your thighs, your arms. You had thought you were imagining it until Feyre's first trip out of the Court with Nyx.

"Have a drink with me?" He had stopped you from sorting the heir's clothing, tilting your head up to look at him. "They say you aren't supposed to drink alone, Darling."

You had agreed, following him to the cigar room you knew even Feyre never entered. It was his sanctuary. His place to be alone. She had her studio. He had this.

That one drink turned into him getting closer to you on the couch, cornering you between him and it. He tipped the wine back further as you took a sip, trying to get you to relax with this dangerous look in his eyes.

You were pinned below him an hour later, drunk and begging him to fuck you harder, to let you cum. All while he smiled above you, eyes blown out in lust, saying over and over again that you felt exactly like he imagined.

You had told him the next morning it was a one-time thing, that it would never happen again, regardless of if you wanted it to happen. The High Lord simply smirked, undressing you with his eyes all over again. "We will see."

He cornered and took you anytime he wanted after that.

On his desk after Feyre would fall asleep.

On the table when she was out of the house and Nyx was down for a nap.

In your room during the dead of night when he decided his wife wouldn't satisfy his need to feel complete control and power over someone.

You had told him this morning that you were done. If he continued to touch you after this, you would tell Azriel, Cassian, or Feyre, believing one of them would protect you from him.

You loved Nyx and he was why you had put up with being Rhysand's whore for so long, but you needed it to end. You needed the guilt to stop eating you alive at night. You knew you were worth more, are worth more.

Rhysand had again smiled. "You love your job, don't you, y/n?" You nodded, eyes watering. "And in your contract, it is stated your job is to ensure the happiness of my family, correct?" You nodding again. "Then I suppose if you are not willing to fulfill that obligation, I should find a new nanny."

He knew he had you as you took a shaky breath, tears rolling down your face at the idea of never seeing his son again. "I'd hate to take him away from you. He loves you so much, and it is so very clear you love him."

"Rhys, please," you felt him pull you to him, slotting you between his legs as he sat on his desk. "I just can't keep being a mated males whore."

His face softened, hand moving to hold your chin. "You are not my whore. You are my escape. If you do not want that, if you do not want to be loved by me, then we have so few options."

You looked up and away from him. "I just want to take care of Nyx. Like I was hired to do."

"Then you do so on my conditions."

That was how you found yourself, chest pressed against the wall in an unused broom closet. The High Lord pounding you from behind, his fingers down your waiting throat to silence your cries.

You felt your eyes roll back, moaning loudly as you sucked those digits. His other hand was on your clit, circling the bundle of nerves in time with each heavy drag of his cock. "Shush," he growled in your ear. "Gotta be quiet, darling. You wouldn't want Feyre to catch us, would you?" He nipped your pointed ear, causing your walls to twitch around him. "Acting like you don't love my cock inside of you this morning, but now here we are. Sure, it feels like you love it when I'm inside of you. Don't you?"

You could only nod, eyes squeezing shut and moaning more as his hips met the plush skin of your ass over and over, driving into you again and again.

You could feel your orgasm building waiting for him to give the command to let go, and suddenly, he stopped. Pulling out of you and slapping your aching cunt. "This is your punishment for trying to end things with me," he whispered into your ear. "If you're a good girl the rest of the day, maybe I will let you cum tonight when she goes to Rita's with the girls."

He left you there, wet and aching for him in that broomcloset. You sunk down the wall, head falling to your knees.

A few hours later, you had finally gotten Nyx down for the night. You sighed, heading to Rhysand's office to let him know the heir was sleeping, that you would tend to him during the night since Feyre was gone, but two hushed voices had you stopping.

"You have to tell her," a feminine voice stated. "I don't want her to quit over this. Nyx loves her, Rhys."

"I know," Rhysand's voice was barely audible. "She tried today. I had to manipulate her into staying before I fucked her in the broom closet. You were supposed to catch us and join us."

You covered your mouth, hiding the gasp you made before standing silently. Feyre sighed on the other side of the door, "I got busy. Azriel had reports, and he was looking for you. I had to lie to him, Rhys. I don't want to keep lying to our family about her and what she is to us."

"Then let's replan it for next week. Since you are supposed to be out of the house. I wanted to give her the weekend off. I'm scared if I do now, she won't come back."

You walked away, having heard enough information, yet not enough all at the same time.

You could not tell if you were angry, excited, curious. You went to your room, closing and locking the door.

As you bathed, the side of you that hated games began to emerge, and you began a plan of your own. In that moment, you decided one thing, if Rhysand and Feyre wanted to play, you'd play too.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

Rhys tag list:

@tothestarsandwhateverend

💜 If you would like to be added to my general taglist, or a character specific one, let me know 💜

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #rhys acotar #rhys x reader x feyre #rhys x reader #feysand x reader #feyre acotar #rhysand x reader #feysand #rhys x you #rhys x y/n

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rieamena · 2 months ago

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bitches ;

"bitches love me 'cause they know that i can rock"

wc: 4.2k

main post. ;; next ;; add-on. ;; taglist.

"one, three, five, seven, nine. one, three, five, seven, nine." you rhythmically counted as you led the stretches, the other members filling in the even numbers

the new semester at tokyo metropolitan technical college had kicked off with its usual blend of excitement and stress. classes were in full swing, and everyone was adjusting to new schedules, late-night study sessions, and the endless hum of campus life. for you, balancing cheerleading practice with a heavy academic load was challenging, but what could you say? you thrived under pressure

sukuna, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered by everything. he glided through life with his signature mix of arrogance and ease, the kind that drew people in like moths to a flame. the kind of guy who attracted attention without even trying. as the star wide receiver for the university's football team, he was known as one of the campus' "golden boys". girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and yet somehow, he'd chosen you and you chose him. you were used to the looks people gave you when they saw the two of you together—the envy, the curiosity, but never the surprise. everyone thought it made sense for you two to be together and over the past year, you'd grown accustomed to being sukuna's girl. the ups and downs of dating someone as intense as him was just part of the package. and lately, there hadn't even been any downs. no fights, no cold silences, no unspoken, lingering tension

the week before the game felt like a blur, everything going at a pace you could barely keep up with. as one of three captains of the cheerleading team, you carried not just the pressure of personal performance, but also the weight of your team's success. every move, every stunt had to be flawless. nobara was relentless, barking out corrections like she was born for this job, while mai, as always, held an icy standard of near-impossible perfection. there was no room for error—not with the pressure of performing in front of a crowd this big

every afternoon, after hours of classes and obligations, you and the team would head to the gym for practice. your body was exhausted, aching from the previous day's grueling routine, but there was no time to rest. there was too much riding on this game. not just the crowd was relying on you, the school was relying on you too, and you couldn't afford to disappoint anyone

the gym echoed with the sharp beat of the music, synchronized stomps and jumps, the grunts of teammates pushing themselves harder with each repetition. your focus was unshakable, your every movement precise and calculated. during a brief water break, you stood at the edge of the gym, wiping sweat from your brow, breathing heavily as you took a sip. nobara slid over next to you, a bright grin on her face despite the exhaustion lining her features

"the game's in the bag," she said, elbowing you lightly. "we've got this."

you let out a tired chuckle, grateful for her constant optimism. "you sound more confident than the team," you said, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead

"i don't just sound confident," nobara replied, rolling her shoulders back with exaggerated flair. "i am confident. sukuna's been playing like a beast recently. if they lose, it's on everyone else."

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you caught your breath. "if he's playing like a beast, i think it's going to be everyone's problem." nobara's laughter joined yours, and for a brief moment, the pressure that had built up over the past few weeks seemed to fade. no matter what happened, you knew you had your team's back

mai, however, didn't share that same sentiment. she stood off to the side, watching the two of you exchange words. her sharp eyes glinted with a quiet intensity that always made you feel like she was scrutinizing every detail, waiting for something to go wrong. she was perfection personified, and no one knew that better than you. she didn't just want the routines to be perfect; she demanded it. the sound of a whistle broke through the air. mai didn't speak; she didn't need to. her gaze alone was enough to silence the room and pull everyone back into focus. it was time to get back to work

"now, let's make it perfect." nobara said with a wink, slapping you on the shoulder as you both walked towards mai

the next hour passed in a blur. the music blared, your teammates hit every motion, every stunt, every jump. the precision in the air was exhilarating. you knew the entire team was running on fumes, but no one dared to slow down. the routine was flawless by the time you ran it again, the final lift coming together with ease. there was no room for hesitation, no space for mistakes

you, nobara, and mai stood at the edge of the mat, watching as the rest of the team rehearsed one last time. nobara nudged you with her shoulder, a smile on her lips. "see? i told you we'd kill it."

you grinned back, the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. "yeah, i think we got it."

mai, who had been silent for most of the practice, finally spoke, her voice sharp and loud, addressing everyone. "don't let your guard down just yet. tomorrow's the real thing. go home, stretch, and get some good sleep."

you gathered your things, trying to shake off the nervous energy building in the pit of your stomach. it's tomorrow. the big game. the final performance. it would be an understatement to say that everyone would be watching. your mind briefly flickered to sukuna. you hadn't seen much of him outside of practice, but that wasn't unusual before a big game. he was focused, determined—the sukuna people expected on game day. you pushed the thought aside. it was time to focus on the game—on your team. nothing else mattered.

when he texted that night, it was brief:

"see you tomorrow. stay cute."

the stadium was packed to the brim, a sea of blue and gold stretching across the bleachers. students waved banners and painted their faces, their energy palpable. even those who didn't know a lick of football knew this game would be a turning point for the season. the entire team was under pressure to deliver

the cheer team assembled on the sidelines, running through last-minute adjustments. nobara was in high spirits, as usual. mai was focused, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd. you were a bundle of nerves—but it was the good kind, the kind that made your heart race in anticipation. when sukuna jogged onto the field, the crowd erupted. he looked as composed as ever, all sharp angles and unshakable confidence. there was no hesitation in him and only a few minutes passed before the whistle blew, signaling the start

the game was a blur of motion—passes, tackles, and precise plays and sukuna dominated the field. every time he caught the ball, the crowd held its breath. he moved like he owned the place, his every step calculated and powerful. by halftime, the tokyo tigers had a comfortable lead

you were grabbing a water bottle near the sidelines when sukuna approached. his face as impassive as ever. the halftime show roared behind you—the band blaring and the crowd buzzing with post-touchdown energy—but sukuna's presence cut through it all like a blade

"i'm breaking up with you."

at first, the words barely registered over the noise combined with how much your ears were ringing after going full out performing the cheer routine just two minutes ago. "i'm sorry, what?" you blinked at him, certain you must've misheard

he sighed, looking visibly irritated. "i'm breaking up with you."

your stomach twisted into knots, the edges of your vision narrowing. the crowd's noise swelled, and you could feel eyes on you—spectators, teammates, other cheerleaders all scattered across the field. a few people in the section you two stood in front of were close enough to hear his words, but everyone in the bleachers could see the tense body language, the way sukuna towered over you with a look that bordered on boredom. you tried to lead him away, but he didn't budge. "can we talk about this somewhere else?" you asked, your voice low and strained

"no." his tone was cold. he might as well have been discussing the weather. "this is as good a place as any." the embarrassment hit like a punch to the gut. there was no warmth in his gaze, no flicker of regret or hesitation. "why?" you asked, clinging to what little composure you had left. "what's going on?"

"i don't need a reason." he shrugged, as if you were something he'd simply grown tired of. "i'm done. i don't want to be tied down anymore."

the words didn't feel real. they couldn't be. you had been together for over a year. you'd supported him through late-night practices and cramming sessions hours before grade deciding exams and countless dates and—just like that? its over? you had laughed, fought, shared memories—things that were supposed to mean something. and now, standing there under the blinding lights, he was throwing it away like it was nothing, like it meant nothing.

"sukuna—"

but he was already turning on his heel. no apology, no explanation. just a final, dismissive glance over his shoulder before he walked away

for a few moments, all you could do was stand there, frozen in place as the crowd continued to cheer and shout around you. nobara's voice filtered through the haze—your name, spoken with confusion and concern—but you couldn't move. you couldn't breathe.

finally, you forced your legs to carry you to the sidelines. the rest of the game passed in a blur. nobara kept shooting you worried looks, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. it felt like you were underwater, every sound distant and muffled. when the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, you packed your bag and fled before anyone could stop you

you didn't make it far. by the time you reached the campus pathways, exhaustion overtook you—an unbearable weight that pressed down on your chest. your knees buckled, and the world tilted. you hit the ground hard, the pavement cool against your overheated skin

the night sky blurred, stars spinning above you. you must've blacked out for a couple minutes because when you opened your eyes again, there was a figure crouched in front of you

"hey. you okay?"

the voice was low and unfamiliar. as your vision cleared, you recognized ino—the leader of the skateboarding club. his dark clothes blended into the shadows, but the concern in his expression was unmistakable. "you passed out," he said, matter-of-factly but not unkind. "i was skating by when i saw you hit the ground." he motioned to his skateboard that leaned on the bench you sat on

embarrassment burned through you. "i'm fine," you muttered, though the shaking in your limbs betrayed you. "uh-huh. sure." ino raised an eyebrow. "you collapsed in the middle of the street. that's not exactly the picture of health."

you tried to stand up, but dizziness washed over you again. ino reached out instinctively, one hand bracing your shoulder to keep you steady. his touch was warm—firm without being overwhelming, it reminded you of how he would touch you in private. "here." ino handed you a bottle of water from his bag, before grabbing his board. you took it gratefully, drinking in slow sips until the worst of the nausea subsided. "better?"

"yeah, thank you," you whispered, though the ache in your chest hadn't lessened

"want me to walk you back to your dorm?" he asked after a debating with himself. his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. "you shouldn't be alone right now."

you hesitated. ino wasn't someone you knew well—just a face you'd seen around campus. but the thought of returning to your dorm alone, with nothing but the memory of sukuna's cold dismissal echoing in your mind, felt unbearable

"okay," you said quietly. "thanks."

you took ino's hand without thinking, your fingers curling around his as he gently helped you to your feet and you let go once your legs found stability. the night was colder than you'd expected, the cool evening air brushing against your cheeks. the sensation felt sharp, almost grounding, and for a moment, you focused on that—on the feel of the night air, the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze—anything but the emptiness inside you

ino stayed close, his presence surprisingly steady as he guided you through the campus. you tried to walk at your usual pace, but each step felt like an effort. your body—still exhausted from the emotional toll—was heavy. it wasn't just the physical exhaustion from the game or the pain of sukuna's words. it was the weight of everything—the frustration, the confusion, the sudden loneliness that felt almost unbearable. every time your mind tried to escape the mess of your thoughts, it would circle back to sukuna, his face unreadable, his words echoing in your head. i don't want to be tied down anymore.

you swallowed hard, trying to push the thoughts away.

ino seemed to sense that something deeper was going on. he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you walked together in silence, his steps steady and unhurried. there was no rush, no pressure to speak. just the sound of your feet against the pavement and the occasional rustle of leaves above you

"not to be rude, but you don't look fine," he said after a while, his voice quiet but direct. "something's on your mind."

you gave a weak laugh, a dry, humorless thing. "what gave it away?" you said, though you didn't feel like joking. you wanted to be alone, to hide from everything, but that wasn't something you could say to him. not now. not when you were so far from being okay. "i guess it's kind of obvious, huh?"

ino didn't answer right away. instead, he kept walking, his pace unwavering, and you appreciated that. he didn't push. he didn't prod. but when you glanced at him again, you saw the concern in his gaze—an unspoken question. he didn't need to ask for you to know that he noticed the change in you. the emptiness. the exhaustion. the subtle shift in your expression when sukuna's name was mentioned. "i saw you two at the game," he said casually, though there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. "didn't look like things were going too well."

you sighed deeply, the weight of the conversation settling into your bones. "yeah, well, they weren't. he..." you didn't even know where to begin. there wasn't a way to describe how it had all unraveled so quickly. how in the span of minutes, everything had changed. "he broke up with me."

ino was quiet for a second. his grip tightened slightly on your hand, but he didn't say anything at first. he didn't need to. you could tell he wanted you to get everything that happened in the last hour out

"i didn't even see it coming," you continued, your voice shaking slightly. "one minute, everything's fine, and the next... he says he doesn't want to be tied down. just like that. no explanation. no reason. he just..." you trailed off, frustration rising in your chest again. "ended it."

the words tasted bitter on your tongue. you'd never imagined hearing those words from sukuna, not after everything. you weren't sure if you were angrier at the way he'd done it or at the fact that it hadn't even seemed to matter to him. he hadn't tried to make it work. he hadn't fought for it. "i don't get it," you whispered more to yourself than to him. ino didn't respond right away, his gaze distant as you both walked in silence. for a while, it felt like you were just walking side by side through the night, no words needed. he didn't offer any empty words of comfort or reassurance; instead, he simply allowed you to have space, to breathe. you felt the tension in your shoulders loosen just a little

"sounds like a real asshole," ino finally said, his voice low but firm. "you don't deserve that."

you glanced at him in surprise. his expression was unreadable, his features still as sharp as always, but there was a softness in his tone that caught you off guard. he wasn't mocking you. he wasn't being condescending. it was as though, in that moment, he genuinely understood. "i know right," you muttered, your gaze drifting downward. "i thought it was something real. but i guess... i was wrong." ino didn't say anything to that. he just kept walking, and for the next few minutes, you walked together in a comfortable silence. that was… until you broke it

"have you dyed your hair before?" you asked, the question filling the air. it was a genuine question, why have brown hair with an all black aesthetic?

"uh… i've tried to?" ino looked at you, somewhat confused at your words. you noticed this and quickly told him why you asked. "oh, well my hair doesn't dye that well. i tried to dye it black back in freshman year of high school but the color never stayed for more than two days." he looked straight ahead, remembering how everything in the bathroom was covered in a veil of black for a while. "yeah but, i've grown to like my natural hair color. i think it suits me!"

when you reached the dorms, the air had become noticeably cooler, and you realized how far you'd walked. you didn't expect your legs to take you this far, to the point where you could see the lights of the building ahead, the familiar structure of home

"i can take you upstairs, if you want," ino offered, his voice a little softer than before. "if you're still feeling weak?"

you shook your head slowly. "thanks, but i think my legs will be okay. plus, there's an elevator so i won't be doing four flights of stairs tonight."

he paused, like he was worried, but instead, he gave a small nod. "alright," he said quietly. "have a good—well—better night. get some rest." he left with a casual wave, his figure slowly fading into the night, and you stood there for a moment longer, watching him go

by the next day, the news was everywhere. you couldn't take two steps without hearing your name or sukuna's in a passing conversation. tokyo metro wasn't huge, and you were both popular enough to draw attention. nobara had spent most of the morning grumbling about it

that evening, you made your way toward the performing arts building, the low hum of the campus night surrounding you. the day had been long, its weight pressing on your shoulders, but the promise of helping akari rehearse her lines provided a small sense of relief. akari, a theater major and someone you'd known since high school, had asked for your assistance in running through her duet. she's always had an incredible passion for the stage, and the way she brought scripts to life made her a joy to work with. it was easy to get lost in the art of it all, to forget about the world outside, and that's what you needed right now

as you entered the small rehearsal room, you were immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aging paper and the slight echo of wooden floors beneath your shoes. music sheets and scripts were scattered haphazardly across the table, a sign of how much time akari had already spent preparing for today's session. she was at the center of it all, her expression focused as she went through her lines, her voice quiet but filled with emotion

you leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before clearing your throat. "finally," she said, tossing a look over her shoulder. "i thought you'd bailed on me."

"never," you replied softly, setting your bag down. "you sure you're good to do this?" she asked, watching you with quiet concern. "yeah," you said, though the truth was more complicated. "let's just get started."

she handed you a sheet of music, her fingers brushing yours."ready for the duet section?" she asked, her eyes bright with eagerness. you smiled, crossing the room toward her. singing had always been a private thing for you—something you reserved for yourself, in the privacy of your room or hidden behind the shadows of your thoughts. but with akari, it was different. she had a way of pulling people out of their shells, drawing them into the art and making them feel like their voices mattered. it was that same energy that had encouraged you to say yes when she asked for help

you nodded as you picked up the sheet music, your fingers brushing the edges of the paper as you prepared to sing. the first few notes were tentative, uncertain, but soon your voices began to blend. it was effortless, almost as if the two of you had sung together for years. as the song built, the harmonies meshed seamlessly, the notes flowing in a way that felt almost natural. it was the first time all day that you felt grounded, your thoughts fading away as you lost yourself in the music. the song lingered, its final chords hanging in the air, and for a brief moment, the outside world seemed to disappear. it was just you, akari, and the music. but then, just as you were about to speak, a voice cut through the air, breaking the spell

"not bad."

you froze, your eyes darting toward the doorway, where you saw ino leaning casually against the frame. his presence was unmistakable—his laid-back posture, the sticker-laden skateboard tucked under his arm, the usual black attire that always made him stand out from the rest of the crowd. he was a familiar face, not just because of his heroic acts yesterday. around campus, ino's known for his easygoing demeanor, his effortless charm, and his reputation as a skateboarder. you've heard from fleeting gossip that he's been to national competitions before, and always got top three. to be honest, you were kind of shocked that he hasn't been named as one of the university's golden boys yet

ino's eyes were on you, and his lips curved into a small, playful grin. "didn't know you could sing like that," he said, his tone light but filled with the subtle admiration that only made you feel a little self-conscious. you chuckled nervously, your cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze. "it's just a hobby," you replied, trying to shrug it off

ino's grin didn't fade. instead, he stepped fully into the room, the door clicking shut behind him. he looked between you and akari, sizing up the situation in that effortless way he always seemed to have. "could be more," he said, his voice carrying a certain weight now, as though he were making a proposition you couldn't easily dismiss

your brow furrowed, and you looked at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "more?"

"yeah." he shrugged, his eyes never leaving you. "i'm starting a band. we need a lead singer." there was a pause, as if to let the words hang in the air, and then he added with a glint in his eye, "i think you'd be perfect for it."

you blinked, your mind racing to catch up with what he was saying. you? the thought seemed foreign, almost laughable. you weren't a singer, not like this. it was just something you did for fun, in the privacy of the rehearsal room or in the quiet corners of your own thoughts

"a band?" you asked again, this time more out of disbelief than anything else

ino nodded, as though he expected the question. "yeah. we meet fridays. think about it."

his words lingered, and the offer—so casual, so easy for him—left you stunned. before you could fully process it, akari was poking your side, a teasing smile on her lips. "you'd sound amazing in a band. i can already picture you in the spotlight with your glittery mic."

you shot her a look, half-annoyed, half-amused. "you really think i'm band material?"

"well, you are pretty good," she replied with a wink, "and you've got the stage presence. truthfully, you should be in theater with me but alas…" ino nodded along, his gaze unwavering, as though he were silently daring you to take the leap. "it's not as crazy as it sounds," he said, his voice steady. "i know the group. we've been jamming together for a while. you'd fit right in."

you suddenly remembered something about sticking to the status quo… but surely it couldn't hurt to stray a little?

"i'll think about it."

main post. ;; next ;; add-on. ;; taglist.

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @babysoo-meu

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@mayyhaps @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly @ozdramaqueen @nymphsdomain @beeksyurr @colorcode

@baekhyunsbestie @vorfreudevortex @leuriss @xaithings @corvid007

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sukirichi · 10 months ago

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 011 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. getting drunk. physical violence.

notes. @sunasbabie bullied me into updating so here it is. alsoo the start of suna’s downfall arc???

wc. 11.8k

series masterlist

[ ELEVEN ] I care, I care, I care like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time, watchin’, hidden in plain sight. ooh I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life. I see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear

Rintaro had known from a very young age he was different.

He had brothers, quite a number of them, and yet even when everyone had their own maids and butlers, Rintaro stuck out like a sore thumb. For one, they were strictly not allowed to call him by his name. He was never Rintaro – always His Highness or Crown Prince. He was never allowed to play with his brothers, either, despite being close in age to most of them. Instead, he stood watching from the windows of his study as they frolicked and lived like normal boys. They attended school, played sports, made friends – the normal way of living, even for Princes. But Rintaro wasn’t like that. Her Majesty had different expectations for him. That because he was the only son of the King and Queen, he simply had to be better than the rest.

No, he had to be the best, and he believed it at some point.

Until Her Majesty announced it was about time he learned some ‘proper socializing’ into society. She’d enrolled him in the same private academy as his brothers, got chauffeured to and fro, and was expected to give nothing but the best of grades when he returned. It sounded simple enough – study, excel, and prepare himself for the throne.

No one had warned him that high school came with other unexpected surprises, one that came in the form of a brown eyed beauty he’d been eyeing since his first day.

Her name was Iris – top of the class, all long, lean legs, and a mop of long, wavy hair. It was hard not to notice her. She was popular, in the way that everyone asked her for her notes, and you could trust her to whisper the correct answer when you’d been called to recite in the middle of the class. An academic overachiever, a teacher’s pet – they all had some sort of name for her. A stickler for the rules, too, always appropriately dressed and speaking in polite, clipped tones. She spoke in a manner elders would love, and Rintaro found that fact rather endearing. He wasn’t a great reader of people, but he could tell one thing: Iris was not her true self.

Her smile might be respectful, but something about the way her lips twitched when being told what to do gave him an idea that perhaps she wasn’t as obedient as she made herself to be. And she was always helping others, putting others before herself, but she never did it looking satisfied.

Rather, it seemed that her actions always stemmed from one thing: obligation.

Iris was not who she is because it was her, down to her nature, but because she felt she had to be. It was such a quality Rintaro resonated with. To deny oneself, and to put duty and order first. They both walked with stiffness in their shoulders, with the weight of the world on their heads. They were simply too young to be caring about such. And Rintaro found it unfair – how they’d been deprived of their right to normalcy and had a future they never even wanted shoved down their throats. He couldn’t speak entirely for her, of course.

They had entirely different backgrounds – with Iris as a foreign scholar, who had to work twice as hard to prove she was worthy as any local, and then there was Rintaro, who couldn’t really tell which parts of him were himself, or fabricated by the throne.

They were both young people who lied to themselves. And strangely enough, he found comfort in that. He found comfort in her. He felt less alone when she was around, and she’d definitely made her presence known. Whether it be slipping notes into his desk and walking away without a word, or sharing her milkbread with him during lunch – which he found hilarious, yet cute – or when she simply made the effort to get to know him.

Not the Crown Prince, but Rintaro.

She began to ask things about himself that he’d never thought of before. Like what his favorite food was – he blanked out, because he wasn’t supposed to be picky with food, so he just ate anything. Or what his favorite game was, and sometimes, she’d even asked him to teach her, even if bringing cell phones in class were prohibited.

She made him feel like a real person. She didn’t treat him specially; she didn’t swoon or fall to her feet when he entered a room. She spoke to him normally, treated him like a friend when no one would dare call him as such.

To her, he was just Rintaro. He could just be. And before he’d realized it, he began to look for her – in the hallways, watching her talk to her friends, or being curious on what snacks she brought so he could buy some for her next time, or intentionally trying to get partnered with her on any project.

But he hadn’t fallen for her.

Not until that day they’d rain poured over them unexpectedly, and they retreated under the nearest tree. Class had long been dismissed, and pretty much everyone had left – save for the two of them due to a late tutoring session. Rintaro struggled with English, but Iris was great at everything. And it was also a good excuse to spend more time together.

“You know, you’re different from what I expected,” Iris spoke, tilting her head up to catch some raindrops falling from the leaves with the tip of her finger. “When they said the Crown Prince was going to attend class, I figured you would be more… uptight. Strict. Or, you know, perhaps more arrogant than your brother.”

Rintaro fought the urge what she thought of him now. He’d become curious about it lately, unhealthily so. He wanted her to like him, to think positively of him – to be more than just ‘handsome’ or ‘charming’ or ‘regal.’ Because he most definitely wasn’t regal around her. He could be more himself, which is why he slouched, learned to smoke, longed for a tattoo, and even learned how to curse. Because he wasn’t Crown Prince Rintaro. He was just a normal high school student, Rin. Rin who stood under a tree while rain poured heavily against the pavement, next to a pretty girl who wore strawberry flavored chapstick and introduced him to a world he never imagined he could be part of.

If she had said he was regal, and well-mannered, he would’ve taken offense. But he didn’t ask, turning his gaze away from the way Iris leaned back against the damp tree and pulled out a cigarette. Even the way she smoked had him fascinated because it meant as a sign of trust to him.

The good, perfect student Iris was no longer perfect around him. She trusted him enough to let her guard down, and reveal her flaws. She had no need to impress him. In return, it made him want to impress her by mimicking her habits – even if he would’ve never dared doing them before.

“I have a lot of arrogant brothers. Which one are you talking about?”

“The ridiculously tall and talkative brunette in our year.”

“Tooru,” he said, gladly accepting when she offered him a stick. He didn’t light it though, because he was on his way home and didn’t want to reek of smoke. Well, if he was to be completely honest, he hated smoking. He didn’t like the way it burned his throat and made it itchy. But Iris smoked often, and she revealed more about herself each time she did, so he joined her. Everything he did was for her.

“Iris, why do you speak so casually to me?”

She shrugged and puffed out a smoky breath. “You just looked lonely. And everyone treats you like you’re fragile – always stumbling over their words or being excessively polite. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable, so… But if you truly mind, I can stick to the formalities. I just thought you might want someone to treat you like a normal person.”

“No, I-I don’t mind,” he reassured, “I like that you speak to me normally.”

“So, friends?”

He chuckled at that, and he didn’t stop her when she took out her lighter and lit her cigarette for him. He supposed one couldn’t hurt. “We have been friends for months now.”

“I know,” she beamed, “I’m just waiting to be invited over to your fancy Palace for tea parties.”

“I don’t even like tea.”

“Shame. I would’ve killed for some expensive drinks.”

And so their unexpected friendship began until they were practically attached to the hip. Wherever Iris went, Rintaro followed. She’d started calling him ‘Rin’ too, and Rin had to hide how much he liked it. He blushed madly each time he did, and it didn’t help that Iris had become more physically comfortable with him – locking arms together when they walked in the hallway, absentmindedly brushing his bangs back during their tutoring sessions, or laying on his lap when she had a book to read as they hid in the corner of the library. Each touch of her skin against his sent heat to his groin. It embarrassed him, because he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his ‘friend’ like that, but could you blame him? He was a growing teenager. He wasn’t immune to a pretty girl’s subtle touches.

“You know, you can make it less obvious that you’re staring at the scholar.”

Glancing away from Iris playing volleyball with her friends, Rintaro glared at his brother. He shared classes with Tooru, but otherwise barely spoke to him. Tooru was too loud and confident; a little flashy for his liking. He also basked in the attention he received from the girls, shamelessly flirting with them and getting their hopes up.

Rintaro thought he was an ass.

“Shut up.”

“Well, well, can you believe that? I believe the Crown Prince just uttered a vulgar phrase that would surely displease Her Majesty. I wonder if she’ll ground you tonight for being such a naughty Prince.”

Rintaro glared at him, gesturing to Tooru’s childhood friend lurking in the corner. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Like reject that poor girl showering you with gifts again?”

Tooru sighed, and upon seeing Maiko’s face light up when he looked her way, he bid his farewell. “Don’t remind me.”

His brother suddenly disappeared. He almost felt bad for Maiko, the heiress from the Rai Clan. She grew up having multiple play dates with Tooru, and they’d been close all the way to middle school when she grew a crush on him – a crush nearly bordering on obsession. When she invited him over to play with her new puppy around the ninth grade, Tooru was met with a ten feet portrait of him in her bedroom. Tooru hadn’t spoken to her ever since. But the poor girl was too innocent to understand his rejections, and she kept following him like a lost puppy.

Not that Rintaro was concerned. Neither was his brother concerned with him, anyway, so they stayed out of each other’s way until they graduated.

Sometimes, Rintaro still wished he never graduated at all. Maybe Iris wouldn’t have disappeared, then. She didn’t have a phone, so they couldn’t keep in contact, but even if she did have a phone, Rintaro wouldn’t be allowed to be casually conversing with ‘commoners.’ Her Majesty would hate it. And he wasn’t certain where she went. Perhaps university, but last he’d heard, Iris was occupied with dealing with some family matters, and Rintaro stopped prying. Her family was one of the things Iris never spoke of. But from what little he knew, she only had a loving mother who did her very best to raise her alone.

Rintaro would’ve never expected that when they saw each other again, they would run into one another at the Palace, of all places. “Iris?” he couldn’t believe his eyes. Had he missed her so much he was beginning to hallucinate? “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

Iris looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He almost couldn’t recognize her. It’d been years since he last saw her and spoke with her, but she seemed entirely different now. She’d gone back to speaking in those forced, clipped tones, her posture perfect, and her smile a little stiff for it to be genuine. She’d been lying again to herself and to the world, but he couldn’t understand why. Rintaro still found it hard to believe that she stood in front of him, draped in lace dresses with the Royal emblem pinned to her right breast in the way royals did.

In the way he did.

“Your Highness,” she said, her tone sweet and airy, as she curtsied. Rintaro felt his stomach twist. This wasn’t the Iris he’d liked for so long. Iris didn’t speak sweetly, or said her words like she treaded on air and had that breathy, ridiculously feminine laugh. Iris’ voice was raspy from constant smoking, and when she spoke, it was always carefree. She never called him by his official title before, so why was she doing it now?

Rintaro couldn’t shake the feeling he was being betrayed.

“You mustn’t have been informed. I’m…”

“Do you serve the crown now?”

“No, no! Not quite in that way,” she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was then he noticed the ring sitting on her finger. “I was married to your brother last night, my Prince.”

“Which brother?”

“Prince Kiyoomi.”

He felt like his world had been crushed.

He was never a hopeless romantic, but he was learning. She’d taught him what girls liked. And he… he thought she liked him, too. She must have, right? If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be staring at his lips when he talked. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t hold his hand and rub circles along his knuckles when they were alone together in the library. Or had he just fooled himself all this time? Was he really nothing but a friend to her?

Rintaro felt foolish all over again.

He felt like he was seven years old once more, holding back his tears while Her Majesty lashed at the backs of his thighs because he wasn’t able to memorize a clause from the Royal Acts and Commands. He heard the word ‘stupid, idiotic, slow,’ and ‘foolish’ resonating at the study room again, while his tutor shook his head in disappointment. Taking a step back, Rintaro released a shuddering breath. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely, she wouldn’t befriend him just to make a fool out of him, but if she did… she would pay. He was the Crown Prince. He would become King. He would punish her, humiliate her and put her in her place if she treated him cruelly – but nothing could have prepared him for Iris stepping forwards, eyes drooping with sultriness as her palms flattened against his chest.

Stepping on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

“But I wish it had been you.”

When she kissed him for the first time, Rintaro knew one thing for certain – she had ruined him for anyone else.

Rintaro isn’t a man quick to anger, but he was getting there.

To leave him for a trip with another man was one thing, but to completely leave him on radio silence was another. A whole week you’ve been gone and not once had you texted. No calls, no voicemails, not even an e-mail. He felt like he had no wife, and quite frankly, your determination to pretend he didn’t exist was getting on his nerves. What had he done wrong, anyway? Hadn’t he been sweet to you before you left? He wasn’t going to deny he made mistakes, but he was putting effort into making it all better. He hadn’t spoken to Iris when you were around. He ignored her, and avoided her even when you weren’t in the same room. And he fucking hated it – because why did you make him feel like he was a cheater when he loved her first?

And now, you were messing with his head. He was certain you were.

Apart from some photographs the paparazzi took of you shopping with Kanami, or sharing lunch with her or having coffee dates, he hadn’t seen you with Kiyoomi. He hadn’t the smallest clue what you were doing. Were you sleeping well? Better without him, maybe? Did you miss him, too, or were you just glad to finally be away from him?

He was going insane with every passing second you didn’t speak to him.

“You’ve been unusually quiet.”

Iris’ voice flittering through the loud noise of the music snapped him back to the present. Right. He was at a party attended by celebrities and models, with liquor in red cups and suspicious leaves and powder being passed to one another – the type of parties a Crown Prince shouldn’t be seen at. But the twins had insisted, claiming he should enjoy himself and ‘do whatever the fuck he wants’ since he didn’t have a wife around to criticize him. He thought it was stupid. He didn’t want to do anything to upset you, but Iris wanted to come along out of boredom – Kiyoomi was away fulfilling their duties for them as mediator between two countries, so she had nothing better to do. Besides, Rintaro figured Iris had been itching for these environments. She’d played the docile and agreeable Princess role for several years now. She must be tired of it, and as soon as she saw the opportunity to let loose and be her true self, she wouldn’t dare let it pass.

And maybe his brothers were right. There was nothing wrong with just taking some time for himself. If you could do it, why couldn’t he?

However, he couldn’t convince himself he enjoyed this party he was in. People were making out at dark corners of the hall, and he was pretty sure there were illegal activities happening tonight. Iris didn’t bat an eye on it. The twins, too, seemed to be enjoying themselves as they flirted with a model he’d seen before, but couldn’t care enough to remember the name of.

“Sorry,” Rintaro said, “I just have a lot on my mind these days.”

“Is it her? You can’t stop looking at your phone.”

Grimacing, he offered her an apologetic smile. Iris didn’t look jealous, but then again, it was hard to tell under the dim lights, and not when she was hugging her fifth cup of whatever foul-smelling liquor she seemed to indulge in. But neither did he want to offend her by lying, so he slid his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and feigned disinterest. “She hasn’t texted or called since she left. I have no idea how she’s doing at all,” he glanced at her, “Has Kiyoomi texted you?”

“As if that would happen,” she chugged her drink and gestured to the doors. “Let’s go. I need some fresh air.”

They exited and walked all the way to the balcony. On their way there, Iris hugged his bicep and leant against him, causing the passing by hotel staff to eye them warily. But Iris couldn’t care less, and Rintaro leveled the staff with a warning glare. They should know better than to say anything. Tonight, the world was theirs. Iris was in his arms, as free as they could be, as free as he always hoped, and he swore he wasn’t going to think about you.

With the fresh air kissing his exposed skin, Rintaro immediately felt better. He wasn’t surrounded by the stench of alcohol anymore. He could breathe better here. Leaning against the railings, he and Iris overlooked the Kingdom of Inarizaki laying beneath their feet.

At one point in time, he promised to give all of this to the woman beside him. They’d talked about having children and raising them in the Palace. How they would make great monarchs, and they could finally be powerful while still being free. With them on top of the world, no one could tell them what to do. They could simply be themselves. But just a hundred times better, because Iris would be beside him and sharing the burden of the Crown.

At least, until Rintaro realized none of that felt right.

You were his wife. He didn’t want to share this Kingdom with anyone else but you, although there was a more worrisome voice whispering at the back of his head – Rintaro didn’t want to share you with this world. He wanted to hide you and keep you for himself. He didn’t want you anywhere Kiyoomi, or Tooru. You were his. He was yours. He’s your husband, and you his wife.

You should be the one here with him, and he should be there with you.

Did you feel the same way, too?

Iris lit up a cigarette. Before he could think better of it, he snatched one from her and she lit it up for him, just like she did when they were younger. Her brows rose at his sudden eagerness, “You haven’t smoked since you met her.”

“I didn’t want her to think I smelled.”

“What’s the change?” she teased, “No longer worried she’ll think you reek because you’re married?”

“I just need the distraction.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I’m just worried.” He gritted his teeth, not liking how all of this just felt… wrong. Iris smelled too much of the old perfume she wore when they were teenagers, and it made him nostalgic in the worst kind of possible. Like recalling a childhood memory you thought was great at the time, but growing up completely changes your perspective on it. Rintaro hated it – how he tasted bitterness at something he once craved so much. Worse, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He didn’t know where his heart was at yet, but something was different.

He desperately wanted to see you.

“I feel like… I feel like she’s going to leave me, Iris. Something’s changed.”

“You’ve changed, Rin,” she snapped, throwing her cigarette on the ground and stomping at it. Rintaro frowned; he’d seen her do it before when they were kids, but seeing her still do it now confirmed his theory: Iris still had her mean temper. She could never hide it even under silk dresses and velvet gloves. “You haven’t been the same since the honeymoon. I feel like we left behind the old you, and the one that came back is someone I barely know.”

Rintaro couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. She was right. He’d changed. He didn’t know why, or how, but maybe he was falling in love. Could he be? No… maybe he just missed you. Maybe he just hated the way you seemed so resigned and distant when you left.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could tell her, because Rintaro was too lost.

“Are you changing your mind about me?”

“No, no. Gods, I would never. I just – I’m confused, okay? She’s mad at me, and she just left. What if she never speaks to me again?”

“She will. She’s your wife.”

“You don’t even speak to your husband,” Rintaro argued, and Iris rolled her eyes. Once, he would’ve found her irritation appealing. But directed at him? He just felt like he was being looked down on.

“That’s different. You know, Rin, if you’ve changed your mind about me, it’s okay. I already knew before this most likely wouldn’t work out, and even if you did become King and legalized divorces, what would happen, then? I’ll be your concubine,” she sneered, as if the mere thought sickened her. “People would reduce me into nothing but a whore. I don’t want to be hated just because I wanted you.”

Rintaro pursed his lips. Sure, the title ‘concubine’ didn’t come with many good meanings. But it was all he could give her. He couldn’t imagine making her his wife. Iris had too much of a temper for that, and with all the pretending and acts she puts on, he didn’t trust her enough to treat his people right when she wielded enough power.

She wasn’t kind like you.

She wasn’t like you.

He knew all of this, had realized it just now, yet he couldn’t bring himself to just go back. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed in defeat. “I’ve already gone this far. It’s a little too late to tell me to change my mind, you know?”

“I’m just reminding you this was your choice, not mine. And don’t forget if you do legalize divorces, and Kiyoomi and I did separate, does that mean you’ll divorce her, too?”

He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I’m not a whore, Rin. I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want to be just your sidepiece, your secret lover. I have been here with you before people even acknowledged your existence. I was here first. Don’t you think it’s unfair she gets to have you in all your glory and I can only have you in secret? Like what we feel for each other is something to be ashamed of,” tears pricked at her eyes, and Iris angrily wiped them away. Rintaro was frozen to his spot. He didn’t even feel like reaching to wipe them for her – his mind was just in a different place entirely. His exhaustion ran bone deep.

“If you want me to divorce Kiyoomi when you become King, you should divorce her too.”

“That wasn’t the plan. You said you were fine being a concubine–”

“It’s either me or her, Rin. Choose. Who will be your wife? Me or her?”

“You. It’s always going to be you.”

“Do you promise?”

“It’s just you!” he barked, surprising both himself and Iris. He’d never raised his tone with her before, yet there was no denying it – he was changing. Iris knew this, too, and Rintaro could tell by the wicked glint in her eye that she would use this against him.

Rintaro didn’t think twice before he slammed his lips to hers.

If she couldn’t be convinced with words, he would convince her with their bodies. It was how they communicated anyway – all arguments would always be resolved in the bedroom. They stumbled together back to his hotel room, lips only leaving one another’s for a brief moment to breathe, before they were clawing at each other’s clothes. She let out her rage on him by pushing him back to the bed, with her on top and ripping his shirt, uncaring of the remnants. When she kissed him, it was everything but sweet. He tasted nothing but hatred and pure anger as she shoved her tongue down his throat, and he choked, tightening his grip on her hips while she bounced.

They did not make love.

They simply shared their bodies for a lack of better things to say. He bruised her and fucked her hard enough the headboard slammed against the wall because he couldn’t say he missed you. She marked his skin with hickeys and claw marks down his back because she didn’t want to hear him say he missed you.

At talking, Rintaro and Iris lacked at.

But they spoke well enough with the violence of their bodies that by the end of the night, they both knew – Rintaro’s heart was no longer in the same room as them.

You took it with you from a thousand miles away.

Rintaro couldn’t sleep the entire night. Iris had passed out as soon as she’d satisfied herself, and after hogging the sheets all to herself, he’d given up on trying to sleep. It felt wrong to share the same bed with her, anyway. So he got up, showered, and scrolled on the latest news to look for you again. Still nothing – but apparently Itachiyama’s citizens were looking forward to you and Kiyoomi attending a movie’s premiere night.

He clutched his phone hard enough it shut off. Sighing, he leaned back against his seat on the couch, an arm draped around his arm. He’d gone past the borders of being pathetic. Now, he was just eager to see his wife again, but he had no way of communicating with you. So like the pathetic fool he was, he couldn’t stop himself from scrolling for hours when a rapid knocking banged down on his door. Frowning, he opened it, and was met with a shirtless Atsumu wrapped in nothing but a towel – his eyes bloodshot red, though he suspected, not from crying.

“‘Tsumu, what the fuck?” His brother reeked of alcohol and sex. Pinching his nose, he scanned the hallway for witnesses before opening his door wider. Atsumu scurried in without a word and plopped down on the seat, his knees bouncing repeatedly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I… I fucked up.”

“Yeah? What’s new about that?”

“No, I mean, I really fucked up,” he groaned, his head falling to his hands. Rintaro immediately felt bad about him, Walking forwards, he crossed his arm against his chest, encouraging his brother to continue. “Listen, the party was going great, and Yuki just looked even better in person. And she was fucking funny and so perfect, man. I couldn’t help myself. But she was flirting with ‘Samu more and I got jealous so–”

“What did you do?”

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. He couldn’t look Rintaro in the eye, and the latter was growing more nervous by the second. “I may have made her drink more than she can handle… and pretended to be Osamu. So she’d sleep with me.”

“You are screwed.”

“I know, I know, but she’s going to wake up soon, and I don’t know what to do. I left the room, and–”

“Okay, calm down. Where’s ‘Samu?”

“Downstairs, eating breakfast.”

“You stay right here.”

Iris chose the wrong time to wake up. She must’ve heard Atsumu’s frantic ramblings and sat up from the bed, clutching the blanket to her naked chest. Upon seeing an equally nude Atsumu, she screeched, throwing the nearest pillow at him. “‘Tsumu, get out!” Atsumu fought back by throwing a smaller pillow her way. They began bickering like small children, and it was too early for any of this. He could feel a pounding at the back of his head already.

Tired. He was just tired.

“Iris, please, just – just stay here, the both of you, okay? I’ll be back.”

At least Rintaro had Atsumu’s mess to thank. He finally had a good enough excuse to not spend another moment in that suffocating room with her – or any of them. He’d wanted to leave hours before, but Iris wouldn’t have taken it well if she woke up without him. For now, though, Rintaro had to take on the role of a responsible older brother; something he’d never done before. Taking quick strides, he swung the door open when Atsumu called out for him.

“Wait. Rin!” Rintaro paused, raising a brow at his brother, whose face had been drained of color. “I’m sorry… I just… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.”

Rintaro himself wasn’t convinced by his words. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of before that the Princes got their sexual needs satisfied without having been married. Save for a few like Wakatoshi, Keiji, Kita, and Tobio who all wanted to wait for marriage, he was a hundred percent certain his brothers had been with women before. This normally wasn’t a cause for concern. But Hiroda Yuki wasn’t just anyone. She was a model currently rising to fame, and not only was she inebriated during the act, but she’d been led to believe the man she took to bed with someone else. If she were to found out the truth, and decided to turn to the media to ruin his brothers, it’d be another issue for the throne. It didn’t affect Rintaro directly, but times were changing – people were growing restless the longer the crown sat without its King.

It was high time they chose a King, but a very few number of Princes hardly seemed eligible.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Ushijima was the best choice to be King. He was fair, disciplined, and followed the rules to a tee. He also had a happy, stable marriage with a respectable noble woman, and they already have a healthy son. There weren’t any arguments that Rintaro paled in comparison to him.

But that didn’t mean he would give up so easily.

He wanted the throne. He wanted everything.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he headed for the lobby in search of the darker haired twin. He’d think about the Crown another time. Ducking his head to hide his face, he nodded at any passing staff and hid behind corners. It was only a matter of time before Yuki woke up. That presented another problem – should they hide the truth from her and keep Atsumu safe, or tell her what had really happened and risk having Atsumu be kicked out of the Palace?

Fuck. Rintaro didn’t know what to do, but maybe Osamu would.

His brother sat at the hotel’s dining area, happily digging into his meal without a care in the world. Oh, how lucky he was to be so ignorant. Out of the twins, Osamu was the more mild-mannered one and got into less trouble, but it didn’t change the fact Osamu was often the instigator, and Atsumu the willing victim who played into his hands. The situation felt more complicated now because Rintaro was unsure. Had Osamu planned this all along? Had he known that Atsumu wanted to sleep with Yuki and left them to themselves just when the both were drunk out of their asses?

Too many questions, and he struggled to form a coherent thought. But if he were Kita, he’d have this resolved within a second.

If he were Kita, but he wasn’t. He was just plain Rintaro, who wasn’t particularly great at anything, yet had unfortunately been branded with an extravagant title he never deserved.

Pulling out a seat before him, he narrowed his eyes at his brother. It was still early in the morning, so they had enough privacy with only very few people having breakfast. No one paid them any attention as Rintaro leaned forward, his voice low and hushed.

“Where were you last night?”

“Good morning to you, too, dear brother,” quipped Osamu through a mouthful of waffles, “Lovely set of breakfast they serve here. You should try some.”

“‘Samu, I’m serious. Did you stay at the party last night?”

Osamu, the little ass, took his sweet time chewing and swallowing before he spoke. “No, I went home after ‘Tsumu went out with the model. I just came back to pick him up. I figured he’d be too drunk to drive home.”

Rintaro wanted to ask for more details. There had to be more to the story. The twins were both cunning when they wanted to be, although he doubted Osamu would do anything to intentionally harm his twin. It seemed possible, but he couldn’t be too careful. None of them could afford any defamation lest the people decided for themselves how uncontrollable and unruly the Princes are. Their father had already broken the people’s trust by having multiple sons with different women. They treaded on eggshells, even more so when Rintaro opened his mouth to speak, and was cut off by the crowd whispering around them.

He and Osamu froze. They could barely make out the words from their mumbling at this distance, but they were no fools. They could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them. With their phones pulled out, they whispered amongst themselves and sent looks of disbelief towards the Princes. Rintaro’s heart raced as he made eye contact with his brother.

They both pulled out their phones and checked the latest news.

An article published just a few hours ago trended worldwide at number one. A photograph of Rin and Iris making love could be seen through a window, with the headline implying that they were secretly lovers all along. His heart dropped. He scrolled down to the comments, his fist turning white at the knuckles as he read them.

That’s disgusting! Wasn’t Prince Rintaro recently married? It seems like being a cheater runs in the blood, after all. He’s just like his daddy To think they did this while their spouses were away for official duty… unbelievable. Disappointed, but not surprised. Princess Iris always seemed like a skank. Never liked her. She came to give aid when there was a storm in our village once, and she kept complaining she was tired. Now she’s going around sleeping with other people’s husbands *laughing sticker* lol she sounds like a bitch Is this real?????????? This has to be fake. The Crown Prince loves his wife! Delete this post now! You’re in trouble once the Palace sees this!

Rintaro pocketed his phone. “We need to leave.”

He dragged Osamu by the arm, ignoring his brother’s complaints that he hadn’t eaten his berries yet. One glare shut him up. They had bigger things to worry about than some stupid fucking berries.

“Call Shinsuke. We need help.”

All four of them hid in Rintaro’s room until Kita arrived. It hadn’t been long, maybe less than an hour, but the wait was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, he’d brought a security team with them. The Princes were escorted out through the back doors and into their cars, although it was too late. Reporters and journalists were already swarming outside the hotel. Kita had stayed back to tell the hotel staff they were not allowed to speak of what they saw or heard during last night’s party under no circumstances. The Princes’ safety were their utmost priority. Everything would be dealt with accordingly. Just as they pulled out of the hotel’s parking, Atsumu informed Kita about Yuki, and the situation he left her in.

Shinsuke’s lips thinned. Already, he looked bone tired. Waving a hand, he dismissed his brothers and promised he’d take care of her once she woke up. For now, they had to stay low and keep out of the public’s eye until the situation died down.

“You all best behave when you get back,” Shinsuke warned, “Her Majesty is furious.”

Of that, he had no doubt. Her Majesty had been eerily quiet since everyone’s return from the honeymoon. But Suna knew his mother better than anyone; she wasn’t letting things pass by, she was only watching from the sidelines, waiting to see who would drop the ball first. And to no one’s surprise, it would be Rintaro.

Her Majesty was right. He couldn’t keep this secret affair with Iris forever.

One way or another, the truth would be revealed, and the truth itself would be his damnation.

None of them uttered a word as they sat next to each other in the car. Atsumu’s still bouncing his leg, causing the seat to shake, but Osamu could care less. He simply gazed out the window. Iris, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped crying, her shoulders shaking silently. Mascara ran down her face in streaks, her lipstick smudged and her torn dress doing very little to hide the love marks on her skin. Gods. Rintaro’s headache worsened. If they got out of the car and the paparazzi took even one photo of Iris in her post-sex state, they were done for.

Rintaro could kiss his precious Crown goodbye.

Walking back to the Palace was akin to walking to your own death.

The lobby was torn upside down. Calling it a mess would be an understatement. The Queen stood in the middle of the furniture she’d flipped and thrown, shards of broken glass all around them as she heaved. The pure image of rage – and he had been the cause. “Fools! Idiotic fools, all of you!” she screamed, stomping through the glass as she reached up to fist Iris’ hair.

“Ow, Your Majesty–”

Her Majesty scrunched her nose at the scent of smoke and alcohol coming off from her, further fuelling her anger. “And you! By the Gods, I knew marrying you into this family was a grave mistake, but you just keep making me regret I ever laid eyes on you, don’t you? You lowly, good-for-nothing whore.”

“Mother!”

“You do not get to speak!” she turned to him and harshly let go of Iris, causing her to stumble and fall onto the broken glass. Panicked, Rintaro reached out for her, but the Queen had caught his arm, reared hers back and landed a slap on his cheek. Rintaro was stunned – she’d been harsh and cruel, but she never laid a hand on him. “Do you have any idea what you did? The throne is all in shambles because of you! The Cabinet hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article came out, and I have all our lines busy with people demanding for answers! And you dare raise your voice at me? I told you, multiple times, that you need to stop with your trysts. How will you be King now that you’ve lost the people’s trust?”

“He will not become King,” announced a deep voice they knew all too-well. Like a demon that only showed up in your worst nightmares, Ushijima strutted inside the room, an air of authority and finality surrounding him. “I should be the King. Help me have the throne, and I will resolve all of this,” he studied them all – Atsumu with his guilt, Osamu who was too scared of the Queen to move a single muscle, Iris clutching her bloodied arm, and Suna with disappointment written all over his features. “Clearly, he is not fit to lead this country. He is still but a foolish, young man.”

Foolish.

Stupid.

Reckless.

He’s just like his father.

He’d be a failure as King – just. Like. His. Father.

So that was who he was then. A failure. He’d become the one thing he swore not to be. How would you look at him now? You always gazed upon him with stars in your eyes, like he was the best thing to ever happen in your life. No one had ever looked at him that way before – not his mother, not even Iris. In Iris’ eyes, he was simply… a boy. A boy with no knowledge and experience in this world, a boy who she felt she had to teach because he knew so little. Only you looked at him with adoration, and even that had been taken away. Or, no, he ruined it. Just as he was the reason you used to smile, he’d also become your greatest pain. And maybe, once you’d returned him and seen how the entire country and his whole family had hated him, you would see him for who he is too – nothing but a failure.

The good for nothing Prince.

He should have known. The Palace was no place for the likes of him. He should have just stopped trying so hard to be King. He should have never used Iris as an excuse to quell his insecurity. But was it truly a crime to want to feel like he was needed?

He didn’t know anymore. The only thing he knows now was that he needed to leave, and without another word, stepped out of the room.

“Rintaro! Where are you going?!”

He ignored his mother calling for him. Perhaps he should stop calling her that, too. She’d barely been a mother. She was more of a Queen, bending and breaking her back to His Majesty’s will. She loved the crown and the power it gave her more than anything, that she willingly sacrificed her dignity to keep her position. For many nights, Rintaro watched his mother leave their quarters crying, battered and bruised. It was confusing for a young boy like him. Weren’t mommies and daddies supposed to love one another? But the Queen would scold him for being awake past midnight, and rush him back to bed while she limped on her way. She never loved the King, and because he was his son, she never loved him, too.

Rintaro was nothing but another tool for Her Majesty to stay in power.

She could never become King and hold the Kingdom for herself, but he could. Wasn’t that why she kept him locked away for years and groomed him to take in his Father’s steps?

I kind of did, he thought sarcastically, I’m a horrible husband just like him.

When you arrived in Inarizaki, the country was in chaos. People flocked you from left and right when you and Kiyoomi left the plane, causing the older Prince to break his silence and scold the nosy reporters. Flabbergasted at his sudden outburst that seemed out of character; they lowered their cameras and gave you enough breathing space. The peace, however, did not last long. Her Majesty was furious beyond what one can imagine – akin to a dragon breathing fire down to anyone who dared come near her tower. The twins, who apparently started this fire and caused Rintaro to be the fuel, had been shut away in their rooms in fear of angering her. Iris, from what little you heard about her, was being ruthlessly flamed by the media. They’d called her all sorts of unkind things you would’ve never dared say out loud.

But for some reason, seeing their downfall did not give you any satisfaction.

Because at the end of the day, they were the people you and Kiyoomi returned to. You may walk down the same hallways in the Palace, but he would always be in Belleview Manor to look for her. And you were well on your way to search for the Crown Prince who walked out on his mother.

The guards took some time to find his location, but once they did, they did not hesitate in informing you. Everyone believed you were the only person he’d want to speak to right now. So you drove up to the mountains, where it was barren and cold, and you had to use a truck to survive the rocky terrain. Seriously, out of all the places he could be, he chose to wallow in misery at the top of the world – in the pouring rain, no less.

Boots muddied from the storm, you hopped out of your truck and opened an umbrella, clutching your coat tighter as you watched your husband from afar.

This mountain served as a border between Inarizaki and Itachiyama. From where you stood, you could see the two countries – Itachiyama with its rich nature, and Inarizaki with its towering Castles and bustling cities. Once a united nation, now split into two – all because of love. A tragic story, yet a realistic one. It only goes to show how powerful, and dangerous, love could be. You knew better than anyone that whatever made you happiest could also be your greatest demise.

And there was the said demise – crouching as he picked up pebbles and threw it off the mountain wall. He wore the same shirt as from the photograph; wrinkled and stained with lipstick. Even from this distance, you could smell her on him, and you wanted to laugh. Perhaps Kiyoomi was right – maybe they never loved each other. Maybe they were just lonely.

Extending the umbrella until your husband was shielded from the rain, you softened. Rintaro visibly froze when the rain stopped pelting against him. His wet hair stuck to his face, his shirt plastered on his skin.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his devastatingly handsome face: relief, worry, surprise.

You broke the silence first and crouched down next to him. When Rintaro stiffened, you smiled, showing him you were not here to be his enemy. “My Prince. You are a difficult man to find.”

“Princess,” he breathed out, and you realized the poor Prince was shivering. His face broke into that of despair upon seeing you. “I didn’t know you would be home so early.”

“I had some matters to attend to.”

“You saw the article,” he guessed, and you nodded. Rintaro then stood to his full height, and you followed, causing his head to bump into the umbrella since he was taller. For a moment, he crouched to fit in under the small space. But it was uncomfortable, and soon, he was gently taking the umbrella and holding it for the both of you – more for you, though, since rain still trailed down his back. “I’m sorry.”

“It was bound to happen,” shrugging, you gestured for him to take a walk with you. It was far from being the most scenic place to have a peaceful walk in, but it would do.

You two were silent for a moment. Rintaro seemed to have a thousand thoughts running through his head when you finally spoke.

“How are you?”

“Tired. And you?”

“I’ve had better days.”

Rintaro stole a cautious glance. “Are you mad at me?”

You chuckled, and the sound of it stupefied him. His eyes widened as if afraid, but truly, there was no need to be. You weren’t in the mood to argue with him. “Not really. I feel like I was mad at you a long time ago, and now I’m just… Numb to it all, I suppose,” you said, absentmindedly spinning the wedding ring you both wore. Such a simple jewelry, yet it symbolized so much more. When you spoke again, the rain had calmed down a little bit, but the cold had already seeped into both of your bones. “Marriage is difficult. You have to stay true to your vows, even when the times are challenging. In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse. ‘Till death do us part,” you glanced up at him, taking in those handsome features you fell in love with – his hazel eyes, his soft lips you loved to kiss, and his face you often cradled in your palms. Even right now, you wanted to kiss him, if only to give comfort, but you had to know first –

“Do you intend on keeping your marriage vows, Your Highness?”

He averted his gaze. “I doubt our marriage is valid anymore. The country thinks I am a horrible husband to you.”

“It’s not like I’ve been the best wife myself,” you admitted, your chest aching as you remembered the Second Prince – his gentle smiles directed only at you, the castle ruins, his large palms holding you tenderly, and the crestfallen look on his face when you told him you had to look for your husband. Such a great man, but the timing couldn’t be worse. And Gods, you couldn’t help it. You cried. You mourned the love you could have had.

You grieved for the life you could have had, the person you could’ve become.

If it had been Kiyoomi, it would be so much easier. He would love you in the way you wanted. He would you close to his arms all night long because he wouldn’t want to let go. He would chase away those stupid chickens for you. He would hide you away from the rest of the world and given you a life of solitude and peace – it would’ve been simple, and it would’ve been perfect.

But Kiyoomi was already married, and so were you.

And you felt horrible because he was great, but then you’d become a horrible wife. You would be exactly like Rintaro if you had given into your desire and kissed him. Kiyoomi wasn’t yours. But was Rintaro? Your heart was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Why couldn’t it all just work out?

Why couldn’t it be him?

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you forced the thoughts of the curly-haired prince out of your head. “I wish I hated you, Rintaro. I wish… I wish I never met you. I wish you never danced with me at your brother’s ball. I wish you never courted me. I wish you never came into my life and changed everything. It would have been better to never have been loved, than to have loved and been betrayed.”

Rintaro stepped forward, his arm extending to wipe your tears for you but even he could tell you were refused. So he kept his distance, clutching the umbrella tighter as his voice broke. “I’m sorry. I really am. It just… I didn’t want for it happen. You were all I thought about. When you were gone and you didn’t call or texted once, I thought I was losing you. I wanted you back.”

You shook your head. “You cannot have everything you want. You know that.”

His face dropped.

“Are you going to make me choose, too?”

“No. I already know who you would choose,” and you did, yet your heart still ached for him, for your husband, the one thing you couldn’t have. Only you didn’t feel like laughing, not when Rintaro looked at you with just as much confliction. “Is it foolish of me that I still love you even after everything you’ve done?”

His lips curled the slightest bit. “A little, but I am the last man to judge you if you were foolish, which you aren’t.”

You laughed sardonically. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I know,” he mumbled.

Who knew two words alone could puncture one’s heart so much?

Looking away, you both remained silent until Rintaro dropped the question. “What will happen to us now? Divorce is unlikely, but I might be stripped off my titles. I don’t know. But I have a feeling I certainly won’t become King anymore.”

“Do you want to be?”

Rintaro thought about it. “I do. It’s all I’ve ever known to pursue.”

“Then stand tall, my Prince. A future King doesn’t bow down to anyone, not even his Queen, and most especially not when the world is against him. We can fix this. I can fix this. I can restore your glory, but I need you to place your full trust on me.”

The plan you formed in your head would be considered insane. Her Majesty would certainly be furious, but if this was the only way to leave Rintaro, you would do it. You would protect him. You would give him back his power, and once he’s had it all, you’ll remove yourself from his life. He cannot have everything that he wants – but if you could not have love, then you want power. Even for just a brief moment, you were determined.

You were going to ruin her.

The drive back to the Palace was silent. He’d agreed to whatever plan you had, regardless of what the outcome might be. He didn’t even know what you truly had in mind. He just trusted you wholeheartedly like you asked, and told you to do as you pleased. Right now, the Crown Prince was weak. His mind was far too disturbed to process anything correctly. You would take advantage of it, simply because his compliance would be the only thing to ensure your success.

He just needed to remain silent.

Claiming he was exhausted, Rintaro went ahead first. It’d be another night where you’d sleep separately, and you would both definitely be awake the whole time. Just as you rounded the corner, you saw a hunched figure resting against the wall. He looked like he’d been waiting for you for a while. Upon hearing your footsteps, Kiyoomi raised his head – his dark eyes vulnerable, almost if hoping you would be the same as you were yesterday.

You wanted to. Truly, you did.

But the person he’d been with in Itachiyama was someone else entirely. She was someone happier, someone who didn’t have a broken marriage to worry about. She was someone who could have loved him.

Now, you were the same Princess he’d always known – the one who could never choose him.

Kiyoomi nodded to himself. He must have realized everything by now. What happened in Itachiyama stayed in Itachiyama. Pushing his weight off the wall, he strode to you with a blank expression. His eyes had gone cold again.

“We will never speak again, will we?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, “He needs me right now.”

“I know,” Kiyoomi had never sounded so defeated broke, and it broke your heart. It made you want to run into his arms, to tell him it could’ve been him if you met him first. But that would sound wrong, wouldn’t it? He had been first. He’d been the last dance; the destined lover. The fated one. But man’s willpower could be so strong it battled even destiny itself, and you were both nothing but a fragment of the could’ve been’s.

“Good luck, Princess, in all your endeavors,” and then, just when you thought he would kiss you as he leaned forward, you closed your eyes. Waited with bated breath.

But he never did.

Kiyoomi only kissed your cheek, and then his scent and his warmth disappeared sooner than you would like. When he walked away, you saw all the what if’s you had to let go of.

The dream life with Kiyoomi vanished into thin air.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you forced yourself to turn and never look back. Kiyoomi was surely doing the same. He’d come to peace with it eventually, the love he could’ve had, the marriage he should’ve had. Itachiyama was nothing but a fantasy anyway. He wasn’t a real farmer just as you weren’t someone he could call his. It was a story doomed from the beginning.

Numbness spread all throughout your body. You’d been too drained to cry further, too exhausted to regret what you’d just done. The voice in your mind, the one who craved Kiyoomi like man needed air, had been eerily silent, too. It was if she, too, knew there was no point chasing after something that didn’t want to be chased in the first place.

All you could do was close your eyes and push the image of Kiyoomi’s smile out of your head.

He wasn’t yours. He could never be yours.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at your shared quarters. The same room you left your husband in, and quite possibly the same room he slept with his mistress while you were gone.

You sighed. Opening the door, you were met by the sight of Rintaro pouring himself a drink. He’d already changed clothes – ones free of Iris’ lipstick and perfume. He looked fresh, much more composed than when he was a mess hours ago, yet he seemed… distant. Usually, he’d already perk up at you entering the room. But his face was devoid of any emotion as he poured wine into a second glass, deftly picking it up before downing it in one go. Your gaze fixated on the bobbing of his throat. How Iris’ lips kissed the column of his neck, how she’d whispered praises into his skin, how Rintaro allowed it all.

He slammed his empty glass down on the table. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the sides of it, his voice unnaturally low as he spoke. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?”

“Why you weren’t mad after reading the article,” his knuckles turned white from when he tightened his grip. He took slow exhales as if to calm himself, his grip loosening before he snatched another glass.

Back straightened, Rintaro towered over you as he took slow, careful, deliberate steps – akin to a predator sneaking up on its prey. Your heart drummed in your chest, loud enough it could’ve echoed in the spacious chamber, but you stood your ground. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing his effect on you. Then, he stood in front of you – close enough you saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, the tipping of his head to the side as he narrowed his gaze at you. Inquisitively, suspiciously, like peeling away the layers of your skin to reveal your dirtiest secrets.

“Strange, don’t you think? Any sane wife who found out their husband was cheating on them would’ve screamed and kicked already. You didn’t do any of that.”

“I told you already. I’m too tired for any of that.”

“It could be that,” he raised his glass to your face, a portentous smirk dancing on his lips. “Or you could also be directing your affections to someone else.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He rolled his eyes, but otherwise kept his gaze on you as he sipped his drink and taking his sweet sweet time. “I wouldn’t have slept with her if you didn’t leave. You know I despise Kiyoomi, yet you still went. You completely disregarded my feelings when I said I didn’t want you to go,” he grounded his teeth, jaw clenching from the effort of holding himself back. “Is it him, then? Are you choosing him over me?”

He sounded so serious in his accusations you almost believed it yourself. “Don’t be absurd, Rintaro.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I strike a chord?” he said in a sing-song manner, the smile dropping from his face when you kept your lips shut. “So the rumors were right. You went with him to get back at me.”

Your jaw dropped. Yes, you enjoyed the time with Kiyoomi. Yes, you wished you never left, and you were already regretting each minute you spent longer in this damned space with him. Yes, you thought about Kiyoomi in ways you shouldn’t have – and god forbid you nearly asked him to kiss you, but not once did you think about using his brother as a ploy.

You weren’t like him.

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

Rintaro fumed. He flung his empty glass across the room, the shattering sound muted by his yells. “Prove it to me, then!”

“Are you even hearing yourself? I’m not the one who cheated! Don’t you dare turn this around and make it seem like it was my fault.”

“But it was! If you didn’t go around fucking my brother behind my back, I would’ve stayed loyal to you! I would’ve waited until you returned! What, you thought I wouldn’t know what you were doing there with him? Doing fertility dances, sharing dinners with his mother like you’re his wife, lighting stupid fucking lanterns–” swinging your arm back, your palm connected with his cheek, a resounding slap rendering the Prince speechless. He stepped back, clutching his reddened cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

“That is enough. Utter one more word, and I will never speak to you again.”

“You aren’t even denying it,” he spat out, “Have you fallen for him?”

You were done. So done. You wouldn’t have any of this anymore. Sidestepping him, you walked past and away from your husband, heading for your bedroom where you planned on slamming the door in his face. You’d cry for hours there if you needed to – anything to have him leave you alone. But your husband was just as stubborn as he was determined, catching up to you with ease before catching your wrist. He spun you to face him, and you froze – he reeked of alcohol, his lips and cheeks painfully red, but his eyes.

You couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or keep you.

“Answer me!”

You fought against his grasp. He was stronger than you by all means; you struggled and kicked and pounded your fists on his chest, but Rintaro didn’t budge. He let you hit him however you pleased, demanding repeatedly to tell him he was wrong – how you wouldn’t choose his brother over him, how it’d be him – forever and always.

“I hate you!” you bellowed at his face, falling limp in his arms from all your fighting. “I wish I never married you – it should’ve been him! I should’ve married your brother!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Oh, don’t look so hurt now, Prince. You don’t even feel a sliver of what I do. Need I remind you that you constantly choose her over me, your wife? Why should I be loyal to you when you’re not even mine?”

“I am yours.”

“You’re hers, too,” you reminded him, your eyes glinting with mischief as you recalled Kiyoomi’s words. Just then, cruel laughter bubbled from your lips. Two could play this game, and you would be the winner. He wanted to hurt you? Fine. You could hurt him even more. “You know what’s laughable, Rin? The woman you’re fighting tooth and nail for doesn’t even want you.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed harder, practically shaking in his arms as you did. Taunting him, you nudged your nose with his, forcing him to look at you and feed on your wrath. “I’m right, aren’t I? She doesn’t like you. She’s merely using you for fame and pleasure because her husband isn’t attracted to her–” the breath was slammed out your throat. In mere seconds, Rintaro had shoved you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with such ferocity it burned you. Your eyes stung from your tears, the back of your skull beginning to throb. But Rintaro wasn’t done with you yet.

Pinning your wrists above your head, you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like scotch and smelled faintly of her perfume. It made your stomach churn, and soon, you were groaning into his mouth, desperately trying to win in this battle of dominance. He was angry as you were frustrated, your lips molding against each other’s like swords clashing in a battle. He struck first, his kisses passionately bitter, but his taste addictingly sweet. You fought back against his hold, your breasts sliding down across his chest and you moaned – he groaned – tugging your bottom lip between his teeth until you couldn’t tell who the enemy was anymore. You shouldn’t kiss him, you shouldn’t enjoy it, but his lips were as familiar as a sunny day and you were a woman in need of light in your life.

He’s repulsive, your mind argued.

But he’s mine, your heart decided. He was, and always will be, yours. He could have Iris for as long as he wanted, but it was you who’d taken his name. It was your ring on his finger, your face next to him in the royal portraits. You weren’t the shameful mistress – you were the rightful wife. You could have him as you pleased, ruin him to your delight. Break him into thousands of pieces only to pick him up again because he was yours, yours, yours.

Threading your fingers to his hair, you dragged him closer to you. Breathed him in, pawed at his shirt in a demand for him to take it off. He was more than willing to oblige, the two of you making quick work of his buttons in between messy, breathy kisses. Shirt discarded, he grabbed your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct – the next sequence of events like a movie you’d seen before.

Your clothes on the carpeted floor.

Rintaro on top of you, your fingers intertwined beside your head. His lips on your neck, bruises on your skin and the imprint of his hands on your hips. Your mewls right on his ear. The quivering of your thighs, the stain on the sheets – the day turning into night, from dusk until dawn. He thrusts deep, enough to have you inhaling sharply through your nose. And there it was – the unmistakable scent of a vanilla perfume you’ve never owned. It’s everywhere in the room now that your eyes opened, the hazy cloud of lust ebbing away. Iris’ perfume on your vanity area, a discarded pair of white lacy thongs that wasn’t yours peeking from under the closet, and her scent – her stupidly sweet, innocent scent – blanketing the silk of your sheets.

Slowly, your fingers detached from Suna as you turned to the sides, inhaling the sheets once more because it couldn’t be, right? Maybe you had it wrong. Rintaro wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t be so cruel. You never even shared this bed with him ever since you got married. You’ve never had him hold you close as you fall asleep, never had your head resting on his chest while you both waited for the next day. He was a cruel man, yes, but he wouldn’t dare do this to you. Not while you were gone, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

Yet there it was, the scent of a floral shampoo you couldn’t recognize on your pillows, and the faint smatters of vanilla and cinnamon lingered behind.

And when the damage is done, and your heart is more confused now than ever – Rintaro momentarily slumps before you, held up only by his arms, he realizes too late the tears stained on your cheeks.

“You brought her here.”

It wasn’t a question, not even an accusation. You spoke nothing but the truth, and Rintaro’s crestfallen face said it all. He’d brought her here, made love with her on your bed. Somehow, finding out that he’d fucked her in the one place you found solace in the Palace hurt more than knowing he fucked her everywhere else.

It was as if he’d stained you. Spat right at your face. Desecrated the one place you wished to hold him in, and rubbed it in your face that he couldn’t make love to you in your bed. But he could with her, because it was always going to be her, wasn’t it?

No matter how hard you tried, it was never going to be you.

Silence dawned on the room. There’s nothing but the rapid beating of your hearts, and the soft sniffles you muffle behind your first. He sees two things on your face that night: one of beauty, and one of regret. He dared himself to be brave, to wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. The motion was oddly comforting, and for a moment – just a quick moment – you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. Leaning into the warmth of his palm, more tears dampened his skin. You were torn between asking him to stay, to hold you until it hurt less, and asking him to leave and give you a moment for yourself.

But Rintaro had already decided.

With a final kiss to your forehead, your husband crawled out of the bed. He glanced at you one last time before slipping his ring off, setting it on your bedside table, before quietly – and resolutely – leaving you behind.

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nats-w1fe · 4 months ago

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Hockey sucks

Dark!SamCarpenter x Reader — Highschool Au

Warnings: Sub-con, manipulation, anger issues, G!P Sam Carpenter, Oral Sex, choking, bad writing

Summary: it’s safe to say you were never the brightest when it came to love, or anything really. You were painfully naive and ignorant to any signs that someone you trusted could bring even the slightest bit of harm to you. Hence why when Sam Carpenter entered your life, you were fucked from the start.

A/n: Hii! This is my first time posting on tumblr so I hope this is received well. I’ve never written smut before or dark stuff so please don’t hate! I tried my best Ik it’s bad!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Your Highschool felt like the classic American Highschool as loud cheers filled the school’s ice hockey arena.

You were in the locker room and urgently tied your hair. You were already late and missing the routine. Grabbing your pom-poms you sprinted out to where the other cheerleaders were.

The cheer team of course had their own designated spot on the bleachers where they could do their routine without knocking anyone out with a high kick (That had happened before and poor Mindy was sent to the nurses office)

Unlike most high schools, this schools main sport wasn’t Football, Track or even lacrosse. It was ice hockey. Woodsboro undeniably had the best hockey team. It was an all girls team and they were way better than the boys teams in other schools.

You didn’t care much for the sport itself, you were just excited to cheer on your girlfriend.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Sam and you had been dating for a couple weeks now and news spread fast.

Your relationship immediately gained attention from the other students, most likely because Sam was one of the most popular girls at Woodsboro high, and most attractive.

The minute this information got to the ears of Quinn Bailey, Sam’s ex, she came straight to you. She warned you about Sam, saying that if Sam wasn’t with you for your body then she was just leading you on. You refused to believe that.

You and Sam hadn’t had sex yet, Sam had made multiple comments about your body before but she never made any moves, but surely she wasn’t leading you on.

But no matter, you fell for Sam almost instantly. You met during a hockey game. Sam was sent to the penalty box (as always) and asked you to grab her water bottle. You of course obliged and she was quick to start flirting with you, complimenting your outfit, your hair, your body, anything.

You, being the naive little thing you were, completely misinterpreted her predatory gaze as a show of kindness.

You’d never experienced love before so when Sam told you she loved you on the second day of knowing you. You swooned.

You hadn’t heard those words before. Not even from your own mother. So you had to love her back, you couldn’t not.

I mean that’s how it works…right?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You watched the match and as the players entered the rink you cheered loudly, waving your hands frantically to Sam who shot you a wink. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips.

The game started okay. Sam managed to score a couple goals, but the other team was good, really good.

You grimaced slightly as a member on the other team collided into Sam—Knocking her over onto the floor. You knew Sam’s anger issues were really bad so you guessed she wouldn’t take this fall well and you were immediately proven correct.

Sam shot up, throwing her hockey stick onto the ground and yelling at the other player. She shoved her and tried to swing a punch but the referee came over.

He blew his whistle and pointed towards the penalty box. Sam grabbed her hockey stick and reluctantly walked over. She slammed the door and sat on the bench.

You instantly made your way over, holding Sam’s bottle. She was practically seething,

“You okay Sammy?” You asked.

Sam never got mad at you so whenever she was annoyed you never shied away.

She gave a small grunt and a nod as she grabbed the bottle from your hand and drank some. You stayed quiet for a moment.

“You’ve got like two minutes left and then you can play again…so that’s good” You smiled at her, always trying to look in the bright side. Sam glanced at you and just shrugged.

“The other team is really good…” you stated, not much thought behind your words. Sam scoffed,

“You don’t think I can see that? They’re beating the crap out of us…”

You quietened down slightly, unsure what to say from there.

Before you knew it Sam was allowed back in the rink. You took her bottle back and she looked at you,

“a kiss for good luck?” She asked, causing a smile to grow on your lips, you eagerly leaned in and connected your lips with hers.

She pulled away after a moment and put her mouth guard in and then her helmet.

The game definitely didn’t go smoothly and the second the final whistle blew you knew Sam wouldn’t be happy.

You watched Sam storm off to the changing rooms. You fidgeted with your hands slightly as you debated going after her.

After a moment you came around to the idea, you grabbed her bottle off the bleachers and swiftly went into the changing rooms.

You went in, smacking your hand over your eyes as to not see any of the girls changing.

You felt a calloused hand grip your arm and pull you along somewhere You recognised the hand as Sam’s so didn’t fight back.

The changing rooms were big, technically it counted as two rooms. Sam had taken you into the other room. You felt your back hit the wall harshly as you were shoved onto a bench.

You winced but Sam took no notice. She was pacing, cracking her knuckles.

“Sammy?” You tried.

“I can’t believe we fucking lost…” she finally spoke, “we never lose, I bet that team was fucking cheating too” you couldn’t think of what to say.

“You tried your best Sam” was all you could think of.

"well that obviously wasn’t fucking enough” She spat. She stopped in her tracks and stared at a spot on the wall.

“Sam?” you asked, pulling her out of her trance. She looked at you, “You okay?” You noticed a glint in her eyes, like she had an idea.

She walked over to you and crouched down in front of you.

“you love me right?” She asked. Your eyes widened slightly at the sudden question. But hesitantly, you nodded.

A smile crept up on her lips, “Well because you love me you’d do anything to make me feel better right?” You smiled and quickly nodded,

“Of course!”

“So…” she started, trailing her hand up your thigh as she spoke, “You’ll let me take my anger out on you?”

Sam’s finger tips crept under your short skirt. You gave her a confused look and a small tilt of your head, which she found adorable.

“just…just get on your knees…and let me use that pretty little mouth if yours” she stood up and stepped closer.

Her hand went to your shoulders and she looked down at you. Her crotch was inches away from your face, the bulge in her pants evident.

“You mean like…sex?” You whispered like it’s some sort of slur. Sam chuckled a bit and shrugged,

“Uh…not really? All you’ve gotta do is take my cock in your mouth and let me use you”

Sam met your gaze, reaching down to your throat. She didn’t squeeze, she just sort of held you there.

You gulped slightly, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“I don’t know Sam…I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet”

All of a sudden Sam’s soft eyes hardened and you could feel yourself shrinking under her harsh stare.

Her hand around your throat squeezed and you let out a small gasp. She leaned down so her eyes were level with yours.

“What so you don’t want to make me happy? Am I not good enough for you any more or something”

You quickly shook your head,

“No no you are…I’ve just never done anything like that before” you frantically tried to fix.

“well there’s a first time for everything doll”

Like a predator she practically pounced forward, capturing your lips in hers. You tried to squirm away but she kept such a tight hold on your throat and with your back pinned to the wall, you had nowhere to go.

Sam squeezed harder, causing another gasp to escape from your throat. She used that to her advantage and pushed her tongue through your lips, into your mouth.

All of a sudden she pulled away and pushed you onto the floor. You winced and looked at her. Sam sat on the bench and spread her legs,

“Come here…”

You got on your knees and shifted closer so that you were in between her legs. You looked up at her nervously. Sam started undoing her belt, the sound of the metal buckle clacking brought your attention down to it. She pulled her trousers down slightly, reached in and pulled her cock out.

It was large, to say the least. Pre-cum leaked from the tip. Sam slapped her tip against the corner of your lips condescendingly and moved her other hand into your hair.

She pulled your face closer,

“Open your mouth, doll” Sam muttered and you hesitantly obliged.

the second Sam could see even a slither of your tongue, she pushed her cock into your mouth, bottoming out straight away and ignoring the tears that came to your eyes and the whines you produced.

You gripped her thighs and she let out a groan of relief. Sam pulled your head back before guiding you back in,

“Suck it you slut” she spat. You hollowed out your cheeks and she continued forcing your mouth to suck on her cock.

The sounds of your gags and her quiet moans filled the small space. You gagged with each push as her cock hit the back or your head with every thrust.

“Fuck…” she grunted as her hips bucked into your face, “that’s a good girl” she grinned.

After a few harsh thrusts she forced your head down, your chin pressed against her balls as she released her load down your throat.

“Fuck yes…” Sam sighed and threw her head back. Tears trickled down your cheeks.

You squinted your eyes shut, gripping tighter onto her thighs. Sam kept your head there even after she finished,

“Swallow it” she muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

You managed to swallow most of her cum, the rest dripped down your chin.

Sam pulled your face away and pushed you back onto the floor.

Your eyes looked into hers, searching for any signs of approval or praise. She smirked at the sight and tucked her cock back into her pants. She stood and walked over to you.

You looked up at Sam as she stood above you. Her hand gripped your chin roughly.

“Got something to say, doll?” She asked you.

You paused for a moment and opened your mouth to say something but as she cocked her brow you quickly shut your mouth.

“That’s what I thought” she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, contrasting to her rough demeanour. “I’m gonna go get changed, wait for me outside?”

You gave a small, quick nod and watched her leave the room.

Your heart was practically pounding in your chest. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, Sam’s cum still there. You wiped it off onto your skirt.

Your mind battled with itself, part of you told yourself that what just happened was wrong; but the other part (the louder part) told you that this was simply her way of showing her love, this is how love was and you would be selfish to think otherwise…right?

#Scream #sam carpenter #melissa barrera #Sam carpenter x reader #dark!sam carepenter #dark Sam carpenter #hockey player #hockey #Highschool au

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golden-ebony · 6 months ago

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Man Eater (3) 𓆩♡𓆪

♡ series masterlist ♡ previous part ♡

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/Fem!Vigilante!Reader

♡ Word Count: 3.0k

♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)

♡ Warning/Tags: fighting but by no means violent

♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable

♡ Note: i FINALLY have a proper vision for the series and i'm so so so excited!

It didn’t take you long to move into the X-mansion. You typically kept most of your things in storage, preferring to live out of a suitcase as you traveled from place to place. It always made it easier to leave on short notice if needed.

But you promised yourself you’d try to make it work at the school, hence moving all your belongings in. Leaving in the cover of night would be significantly harder now—unless you were willing to part with more than a few possessions.

In just a month, you’d settled into a permanent room and reacquainted yourself with your newfound teammates. Like Charles, they treated you with kindness and respect whenever your paths crossed. Occasionally, you even assisted them if it aligned with your own self-interest.

You had more interactions with Logan than anyone else. Despite knowing him for only a few weeks, you two were definitely getting closer. Friends? Maybe. True friendships were rare for you. Most of your relationships were transactional, impersonal. But with Logan, words weren’t always necessary to convey what the other was thinking or feeling. There was a mutual understanding between you.

Still, he loved finding new ways to get under your skin. And you were more than happy to return the favor. It was a brazen, tenacious dance that raised the tension in any room you were in, even when others were around.

Bantering with him was the only exciting part of your days. You itched to do something—anything besides train. The thrill of a mission was what you craved. Waiting for that “something good” Charles and Logan had mentioned felt like torture.

You saw the others come and go on missions a few times over the month. They’d be gone for only a few hours or a day, but that was exactly what you wanted. Your requests, however, were falling on deaf ears.

“I think I’m ready,” you reaffirmed to Storm as you finished a set in the gym. “I did great in the Danger Room, I train on my own, I’ve read some rather boring files. I’m ready!”

“You survived the Danger Room,” Storm corrected. “You’d do better if you actually worked with us instead of next to us.”

You huffed, hands on your hips. “I’m trying, alright? And I have been doing better!”

“You have,” Storm nodded. She glanced over, noticing Logan entering the gym with a group of students, and a sly smile crossed her face. “If bickering and flirting with Logan were a measure of improvement, I’d say you’re more than ready for a mission.”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Logan talking with some students. You’d bet his training shirt was a size too small, hugging every ridge of his toned physique. You quickly turned away, not wanting to give him any ammunition for later teasing.

You shook your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Well, he’s annoying, and it’s something to do until I can actually go on a mission.”

Storm noticed Logan catching sight of the two of you and saw the tension between you thicken. Around the students, you both were more restrained, but that didn’t stop Logan from eyeing you across the room.

“Patience is a virtue,” Storm remarked as she passed you, knowing it was best to leave you and Logan to your own devices.

Turning, you watched as Storm said something to Logan before leaving the gym. An idea sparked in your mind as Logan’s gaze settled on you. You gave him a nod toward the wall, signaling for him to follow. He obliged, moving out of the students’ earshot.

Noticing the sweat-soaked collar of your shirt, Logan couldn’t help himself. “Already hot and bothered just by me being here, sweetheart?”

Your face remained serious, ignoring his comment. “Can you do me a favor?” You crossed your arms, your tone sincere.

Logan huffed, realizing he wasn’t going to get a rise out of you. He nodded, mirroring your stance. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You felt silly about your request. “Can you talk to Charles for me? I want to start going on missions, but no one thinks I’m ready.”

Logan shook his head, surprised. “Probably because you’re not ready.” You’d heard it from Charles, Scott, and Storm, but hearing it from Logan felt like a betrayal, even personal.

“You know better than anyone I can handle myself!” Your voice was louder than intended. “I’ve been doing this longer than any of you—well, except you.”

Logan raised a hand, signaling you to ease up. “Easy, sweetheart, you’ve only been here a month.”

“And it’s agonizing!” you snapped. “I know I’m still learning this whole team thing, but you said I could do something good here.”

“Then do something!” Logan shot back, as if it was obvious. Before you could retort, he continued, “Look, Charles has me teaching self-defense to these boys without their abilities. Offer to do the same for the girls.”

For the first time, Logan had managed to shut you up. You looked over his shoulder, watching the boys practice without his supervision.

“Yeah, we have missions, but this is a school. Helping these kids—that’s the original mission.”

You glanced back at him, huffing. “You sound like Charles.”

“Because he has to remind me of that sometimes.” He placed a hand on your shoulder. “And now I get to remind you.”

His firm grasp was oddly calming. Weeks ago, you would’ve swatted his hand away with a scold, but now his touch felt sincere.

You nodded. “Alright, I’ll talk to Charles about training some students. But will you talk to him for me?”

Logan playfully hummed as if he was weighing his options, “I’ll vouch for you when the time comes,” Logan decided, shooting you a smile. He turned back to the boys, seeing them get a bit more rowdy under no current supervision. “I’d invite you to watch, but I think you’d distract the boys” he teased as he squeezed your shoulder. The look in his eyes was more mischievous than anything.

You picked his arm off your shoulder, sensing the bait, “Distract them or distract you?”

Logan eyed your leggings and cropped shirt. Your partially exposed abdomen and arms were dried with sweat, but Logan couldn’t get your smell out of his head. It was almost dizzying. It had been getting worse over the last few weeks. Your smell was all over the mansion on every goddamn surface in every goddamn room. He only found refuge in his own room. However, Logan was nothing but honest.

“Mainly the boys, but…” Logan stepped a little closer, taking a proper deep breath to inhale your scent, “I ain’t above your charms either.”

You deeply inhaled, your exhale resulting in a chuckle, “For a man that’s seen my case files, you have to know where that charm can lead you.”

Logan shrugged at your point, “For a woman who claimed she couldn’t possibly be a part of a team, you’re sure itchin’ to go on a mission.”

“So?”

He shrugged again, taking a few steps back with a playful gleam in his eyes. “First impressions aren’t everything.”

You watched as Logan went back to the students, immediately getting their attention when he spoke up. As you walked past the group to leave the gym, you noticed how attentive the male students were actually being, focusing on every word Logan was saying. And whether Logan wanted to say Charles made him do this or not, you could tell that he enjoyed it. If he said no, it wasn’t sincere. You knew a liar when you saw one.

After your conversation with Logan, you spoke with Charles. He was excited to see you take initiative in assisting the children. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it was Logan’s idea, but if Charles really wanted to know, he had his ways of figuring that out. You didn’t push the idea of going on missions to him again. That was your idea.

It only took Charles a day to find groupings of female students that were interested in your lessons. At this point, you didn’t interact with the students much. You were more of a lingering figure in the hallways. This was the students’ opportunity to size you up as well.

As you stood there in the gym with 12 girls staring at you with their judgemental eyes, you felt a bit exposed, a little vulnerable. You had grabbed their attention, and now you were slightly regretting it.

“Uhm, so, self-defense is important…your abilities won’t always save you. It may not be safe to use your abilities.” You nodded as if you were convincing yourself. Some of the girls nodded as well, giving you some semblance of confidence.

“I’m not…” a curly haired girl began as she looked at you. Her brown eyes were wide with hesitation, “I’m not a fighter.” A few of the other girls muttered in agreement.

“And you don’t have to be.” You tried to reassure them with a soft smile. “I’m not asking you guys to pick fights or…even like to fight. It’s just important to the Professor…important to me that you guys know how to protect yourselves. No matter where you go in life.”

Pride was a feeling you were familiar with. Usually that pride stemmed from your own work. And these girls were right; they definitely weren’t fighters. However, watching these girls take your advice, follow your movements, even laugh when they made a mistake, you felt pride outside of yourself. Even over the course of an hour, you saw the improvement. Their movements were more fluid as they learned to strike and block.

You could see that the hour was winding down. It flew by as you watched the paired up teens practice these simple moves on each other. Your mind was already racing with ideas on what to teach next. Sighing with contentment, you clapped to grab their attention.

“Alright, that’s gonna be all for today!” you told them, only holding some of the girls’ attention. The others were still playfully fighting at this point. “Same time next week? Yeah?”

A number of the girls nodded as they began to grab their things. When your eyes turned toward the door, you spotted Logan leaned against the doorframe with his large forearms crossed. You looked smitten with himself as he watched you interact with the students. You playfully narrowed your eyes with a soft smile.

You turned your attention back to the girls who were grabbing their bags, “And if you don’t remember anything from today, just remember to never pull your punches. What you lack in experience, you can make up for in ferocity, alright?”

The giddy girls all were quick to say their thank yous and goodbyes as they passed you. Some said bye to Logan, too, as he moved out of their way.

With hands shoved in his jean pockets, he approached, “They don’t look half-bad,” he remarked, referring to the students. “And you look pleased with yourself, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile, knowing Logan was going to use this as ammunition on why he’s always right. But a part of you didn’t care. “You were right; these are good kids. And I may have had fun,” you admitted as you grabbed the spray bottle and pushed the mop to clean down the mats. Logan walked beside you with raised brows as you began to clean up.

“Oh, I was right? That sounds good coming off your lips,” Logan teased, lightly shoving your shoulder.

“Don’t get used to it, Wolvie.” You eyed him as you turned around with the mop around to toward the other end. Noticing his sweats and t-shirt–that damn tight t-shirt again–you motioned to the equipment toward the end of the gym. “Are you here to work out or bother me? Because the weights are down there, brute.”

Logan's mouth quirked into a wry smile at your question. Walking next to you, he could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and your own natural scent. It made him feel oddly relaxed yet infuriated. He let his eyes drift down to your body as you pushed the mop.

“I was, but,” His eyes lingered on your form before taking the mop from you, tossing it against the wall, “now I wanna see if what you’re teaching these girls are any good.”

Logan backed up, giving ample space between the two of you. You cocked your head, interested in the dare but still hesitant. The tension was already stiff in the gym with anticipation at the mere mention of a fight.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you shot back, already beginning to stretch your arms, “but if you wanted a personal lesson, all you had to do was ask, Wolvie.” Your tone teased him, bringing a gleam of challenge in his features.

In the empty gym, you both took your stances across from each other, sizing the other up. The thrill of anticipation and adrenaline began to flood your bloodstream as you mentally refamiliarized with how Logan fought during the Danger Room. Brutish is how you’d described it.

“You gonna keep your claws to yourself?”

“Gonna keep your knives to yourself?”

You dramatically rolled your eyes. You unsheathed your knives, darting them to a nearby board in a show of faith.

Logan cracked his knuckles, a smirk playing on his lips. “You sure you want to do this? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting into a defensive stance. “The only thing delicate around here is your ego.”

With a sudden burst, Logan lunged forward, aiming for your midsection. You ducked, the rush of air from his punch sending a thrill down your spine. You pivoted swiftly, landing a sharp kick to his side. Logan staggered but quickly regained his stance, admiration creeping on his lips.

“Not bad,” he admitted, his tone teasing, “but you’ll need to do better than that to impress me.”

You couldn’t help but grin, “I already know I impress you.”

You darted in again, your movements a blur. A quick jab here, a feint there—Logan parried some strikes but let one slip through, catching him right on the cheek. The surprise on his face was priceless, and you took a moment to bask in it. If Logan could bruise, he was sure he would have.

You winced, a playful lilt in your voice, “I don’t pull my punches, Wolvie.”

Logan dryly chuckled, rubbing his cheek, “Alright, sweetheart.”

With a mock glare, he lunged again, relying on his size and strength. You ducked low, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and then executed a spinning kick that nearly knocked him off balance. He stumbled, caught between frustration and admiration.

“Gotta say, I like the way you move for me,” he remarked, genuine awe shining through.

“You wanted an up close show,” you shot back, grinning as you moved in again, launching a series of rapid jabs. Logan blocked a few but let one slip, landing solidly on his jaw again. He staggered, a laugh escaping his lips. “And I aim to please.”

As they exchanged blows, the gym echoed with their banter and laughter. You weren’t even exclusively on the mats anymore. You were moving around the equipment, against the wall. Logan tried to pin you against the wall, but you slipped out of his grasp, executing a swift spin that brought you behind him once more.

With a burst of speed, you locked him in a tight hold, your bodies inches apart. Logan struggled, muscles flexing beneath their grip, but you had the upper hand. “You’re not getting away that easily,” you teased, leaning closer, their breath brushing against his ear. You felt Logan ease up.

“Don’t know if I want to,” Logan shot back, breathless yet exhilarated.

Feeling your cheeks reddened, you pushed Logan down, pinning him to the padded floor in a swift maneuver with knee and forearm. You positioned yourself over him, yours faces inches apart. Logan didn’t appear defeated; he looked pleased with himself despite the pressure on his abdomen and chest.

You were pleased with yourself, too…for more reasons than one.

“I won,” you breathlessly stated, a small smile on your lips.

Logan’s eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. He unconsciously licked his lips before another smile grew on his face, “Then why do I feel so damn lucky?”

You would’ve expected your heart to slow at this point, yet it stayed elevated as you looked down at Logan. His hazel eyes were now a dark green. It was over. You could release him, but you didn’t. Against your better judgment, you nuzzled yourself close to his ear, hearing his breath hitch.

“Because most men barely make it out with their lives when I get ‘em like this.”

It took everything in Logan not to groan as lips grazed against his ear. Yet, he couldn’t help the hand that partially gripped your waist, feeling the warmth radiating from your body.

“Not the worst view to take in before the slaughter.”

Your mind was fuzzy being this close to Logan. It only worsened when Logan gripped you. Your entire body was buzzing, screaming to pull away. Still, you stayed, only slightly shifting your weight off his chest. The competitive gleam in Logan’s eyes was replaced with something softer, sensual even. Your breathing slowed, but your heart was racing a mile a minute.

Even Logan couldn’t seem to piece together another quip, a retort. All his thoughts had been stripped away, replaced with only you. You were consuming every ounce of his senses except the very one he craved the most. As close as you were, it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain. Yet, Logan was reluctant because even in the tenderness of your eyes, he saw a flash of something–he almost missed it—that he hadn’t seen in you before.

Fear.

“I gotta talk to Charles,” you quickly stammered as you lifted yourself off of Logan, not even thinking about facing him again. As quick as you said it, you were heading for the door. Logan could only muster the faint call of your name from the floor. He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t stop you.

After slowly standing, Logan noticed your knives still jammed into the wall. Your favorites, no less. Pulling them from the wall, Logan took the knives with him.

You’d be looking for them eventually.

He couldn’t wait until you did.

note: love hearing y'all's thoughts or if you wanna be tagged ♡

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#logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman #x men #x men fic #logan howlett fic #britt fics #logan smut #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine x female reader #logan howlett x mutant reader #man eater #man eater series

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missswritesalot · 9 months ago

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Winter’s thorn

Summary: Lady Y/N Tyrell, the rose of Highgarden, had no intentions of marriage when she visited Winterfell. But with her honor on the line, she might have to reconsider.

Part two

“What about Lady Y/N Tyrell, the younger sister of Lady Margery Tyrell,” the maester suggested. “She is young and Lady Olenna is seeking an alliance. Her raven comes with certain peculiar ideas that need careful execution.”

Catelyn was delighted. After hours of pouring over letters from all the heads of the houses, she found Robb his ideal match. She ordered a feast to be held, and invited Lady Y/N Tyrell under the pretense of trade.

“Almost here, Y/N,” said your cousin Taena. You shivered and wrapped your cloak around you tighter. “You are aware this visit is not purely of trade?”

“Now, Taena, that’s enough.” The septa chided.

“Even Queen Daenerys wishes to see you married, cousin. Perhaps to-“

“No more, cousin. I tire of this, although you mean it in jest.” You said, exhausted by these rumors.

“It would mean strengthening our loyalty to the Targaryens. He is Jon Snow’s brother,” Taena said.

“Cousin,” you corrected. She took it as though you were chiding her, and unexpectedly fell silent.

You took two steps out of the carriage, unassisted. You tried holding your head high, like the wind wasn’t cutting into your skin.

You were astonished to find the people of House Stark assembled in the courtyard, waiting for your arrival.

Catelyn was the first to greet you.

“My son, the Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark.” She said, motioning to him. You’d heard of him, they called him the young wolf. Honorable. Gentle and strong.

Robb had the most gorgeous blue eyes you’d ever seen, framed by thick auburn lashes. His hair was a signature Tully red, just like Sansa’s. You’d once thought she was the most comely maiden at court, and her brother had all of her good looks in his ruggedly handsome way.

You courtesied in greeting. He took your gloved hand in his bare one and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Your heart raced. He was so beautiful. You didn’t look up, and affixed your eyes on your boots instead.

“Lady Tyrell, we thank you for making the long journey up north. I hope it was not too difficult.” His voice could’ve melted the snow around you.

You nodded curtly: he should not see the blush on your face.

In your haste, you tripped on a stone hidden in the snow. A strong, leather clad arm wrapped around your waist to pull you up. You felt him stand you upright and the fingers of his other hand dug into your arm to steady you.

You gasped at the close contact, and turned to face him. He might be the lord of Winter but his arm felt like it might burn you. His fingers, where they touched the smallest silver of skin at your shoulder, were equally scalding. You didn’t want to step away from him into the cold.

“Forgive me, Lady Tyrell,” Robb said, his blue eyes still peering into yours. There was an instinct to lean into him, to step into his arms. But you resisted.

You turned your face away, and looked as angry as you could.

“Unhand me at once,” you said slowly. The Septa behind you gasped at your lack of courtesy.

“Lady Tyrell-“ Catelyn began, but you cut her off.

“Pardon me, Lady Stark, but the carriage journey was long and tiring. My companions and I would be obliged for a warm room.” You asked.

The walls of Winterfell were bare, the tapestries grey with little or no embroidery. The heat you had longed for suffocated you. Your mind still harbored thoughts of Robb and only Robb. No, you corrected, Lord Stark. You touched your shoulder where his fingers had rested, and giggles burst out of you. Thankfully, your cousins weren’t around to witness your shame.

You thought of how this was where Robb grew up, his childhood home that was now his.

You tugged on a new dress, one that stood out against the drab castle walls, with its golden roses and green leaves on a background of ivory and pale green.

You heard a loud sound outside. You opened the chamber door at once, and Robb Stark tumbled in.

“My lord, what does this mean?” You asked, horrified he was in your chambers.

“I only meant to escort you to the great hall, my Lady. But there has been an invasion into Winterfell and as my guest I must see to your safety myself.”

You only just noticed his armor. He bolted the doors and you backed away from him.

“My cousins?” You asked.

“They are safe, in the library. Do not fret, my Lady. You will be reunited as soon as the threat is stopped.”

You trusted Robb, you realized. It was a fool’s idea to put your trust in a strange man who you didn’t know, just because you found him attractive. But you trusted him.

“My Lord, it is most improper for a Lady to be in the presence of a man without companions.” You protested, just to save face.

“Proprietary will not restore your life when it has been taken by a criminal’s blade.” Robb said. You closed your eyes.

“I apologize you have not yet supped, my Lady.” Rob said softly. His concern endeared him to you even more.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. You went to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Do not mind me, Lady Tyrell. I cannot express the depth of my displeasure that Winterfell is inadequate on your first night here. Please rest until my men finish the task.” Robb said courteously.

You laid on the bed, the dress too uncomfortable to sleep in but fitful sleep did come.

It was in the early hours of the morn when the Septa found you curled on the furs in the chamber room. Robb was resting against your bed, his head lying on furs with his legs sprawled out across the floor.

“Taena,” you said, going into her embrace.

“Oh cousin,” she said, crying. More of your companions rushed in and fussed over you. You broke your fast with them, your voices and laughter could be heard across the hallways.

Your septa walked in just as soon as the servants cleared the room.

“Y/N, do not tell untruths when I ask you this,” she said. “And I place no blame on you. Was Lord Stark in your chambers during the attack?”

“Why, yes,” you confirmed, head nodding. “He was the most noble.”

“And you did not think of your honor?” The septa asked gently.

“Even the most noble ladies laid next to their knights with nay but a sword between them.” You protested.

“Robb Stark is neither your sworn protector nor a knight.” She said. “Lady Catelyn has written an apology to your grandmother, and suggested a proposal.”

“A proposal for what, septa?”

“A marriage between two great houses. You’ll be betrothed to Lord Stark.”

#a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x tyrell!reader #robb stark x oc #robb stark x y/n #robb stark imagine #robb stark x you #margery tyrell #olenna tyrell #house tyrell #highgarden

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jimblejamblewritings · 5 days ago

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Pet Soldier | 4

Summary: Bucky's past catches up to him, unlocking painful memories of his time as the winter soldier. The only thing that could make it worse was having to be on a team with a captured HYDRA soldier he wants to see dead. But her healing power is simply too invaluable to let go.

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: Non-Con. Seriously. All the Italics are where it could be held.

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 8.9k (yeah, sorry, there was no good place to cut this part off so it'll be our oddly long chapter)

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

You didn’t want a UN meeting where you were paraded out to the public for corrections about you and your new place in SHIELD. The Accords Committee felt obligated to honor that. But they did need to make corrections about you and verify the truth. Which meant a small group of the Accords Committee and SHIELD’s board showed up early to Avengers Tower and would hopefully have a public statement by evening.

No one was surprised when you were the last one into the meeting flanked by one super soldier who hadn’t left your side since the terrace incident and a redheaded spy who watched your back even when you thought she wasn’t around. You were introduced to everyone, some familiar and some not.

Everett Ross shook your hand. “I’m, uh, very sorry about how your past few months have been. Please, take a seat.”

He wasn’t sure how to proceed, grateful for Nick going straight to the heart of the meeting. Natasha reassured you multiple times that you didn’t have to be in the room if you didn’t want to. For whatever reason, you couldn't bring yourself to leave even though you didn't exactly want to witness the harsh realities you had already experienced. Instead, you brought your chair closer to the super soldier at your side and held his wrist, squeezing it tightly.

Bucky swallowed thickly at the gesture. It wasn't for your own comfort but his. And the worst part was he couldn't even remember what he needed comforting about. He did the only thing that felt right, putting his hand over yours and echoing the team’s sentiment that they wouldn’t force you to stay in the room and that everyone aside Nick, Steve, and Ross could leave as well if you didn’t want them to see it. While they all preferred to be on reports, technically it was only necessary for Ross as the liaison of the SHIELD division and Accords Committee, Steve as team captain, and Nick as SHIELD’s director to be here.

“I don’t mind,” you said. “HYDRA guards have already seen and shared everything whether I liked it or not. I’m more concerned that you all won’t be comfortable with what you see.”

That was something they all discussed. But whether they were comfortable or not, they had to assess the evidence given to them. And unfortunately, all the evidence was video based. For once, Steve has wished he was given an abundance of paperwork.

He was sure he could stomach reading about what happened to you and Bucky. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to witness it without breaking down. Everyone nodded, not wanting to delay the inevitable for any longer. Despite not being the leader, Tony naturally took over.

“Alright, FRIDAY, what do you got for us?” he asked.

“All videos sorted and accounted for. Repetition has been saved but cut from this viewing. Focus is solely on moments including Sergeant Barnes and Y/N L/N aside from moments deemed important enough to include even if they aren’t involved.”

“Sounds great. What’s the earliest date we’ve got? Year is fine.”

“1945.”

Everyone but you paused.

“FRIDAY, are you sure?” Tony asked. “Not Buckaroo’s time at HYDRA. When L/N arrives, we don’t really need to crack open Barnes’ old baggage.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. The dates have been checked and verified multiple times. This is the earliest date with both Ms. L/N and Sergeant Barnes. 1945.”

Even Bucky had to blink back confusion, he could have sworn you weren’t around for more than two or three decades at the most. Nervousness began to build in his stomach and he felt a tightness in his chest. What if the soldier had been hurting you from the very beginning? If so, did that mean you two were never truly in love?

The subject of you having been his wife hadn’t been brought up since the day it was revealed. Bucky wasn’t eager to unpack those memories or feelings, especially when he had a very loving boyfriend that he was head over heels for. But he knew it would have to be talked about eventually. He had been hoping for later rather than sooner.

Now, Bucky had to think about it whether he liked it or not. Because the only thing he was now focused on was if you had ever loved him or did you have the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome imaginable? He didn’t know which answer would have been preferable, less painful.

Ross grabbed the remote and paused it before FRIDAY could even begin playing the first video. He tried to soften his voice as best as possible.

“I have to ask, when were you born exactly?”

“1920.”

Most eyes in the room nearly bugged out of their skulls. At least they confirmed that FRIDAY was right in her information. Unsure of what else to say, Ross simply pressed play on the remote:

Bucky moaned on the hospital bed he was strapped to. The bleeding had stopped but he was very aware that his arm was missing. You were thrown into the room, landing roughly on your hands and knees. Bucky didn’t know Russian but he could tell whatever was being shouted at you before the door slammed shut was Russian or, at least, definitely not German.

You slowly got to your feet, attempting to speak broken Russian to the man on the bed. Bucky cut you off quickly.

“I don’t understand that shit.” He tilted his head when you breathed out in relief.

“You’re a prisoner too?”

“Where the hell am I?”

“A HYDRA base. Somewhere in the Soviet area. I haven’t been able to figure out if we’re in Russia yet.”

Bucky threw his head back in frustration. Captured by HYDRA again. He wished he had just died from the fall instead. You picked up the crude and barely filled manila folder clipped to the end of his bed. All of Bucky’s information that HYDRA had gathered and the biggest reason you had been sent in to heal him despite the fact that he was missing one arm and therefore should have been expendable. He had a version of super soldier serum in him. The only other person you heard of having that was Captain America. You sighed as you set the folder back down and produced the key the soldiers had given you.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky was more than confused how you were a bad thing considering you were currently unlocking his handcuffs.

“Because they only drag me out of my cell to heal someone worth saving.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, not needing you to explain anymore. He wasn’t sure if you were a complete good guy yet but you were at least an ally for now. He waited patiently for you to lay out your equipment. You went through basic check-ups before assessing the real issue. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he saw the faint blue glow coming from your hands. His soreness started to slowly melt away as you pressed your hands to his wounds.

“You’ll have to keep coming back before the next phase of your new training,” you told him. “I’m still learning my powers. My base camp was helping me learn how to get better to help soldiers for the war but I got taken before that. I’m working on it though.”

“Were you given serum too?”

You shook your head. “Born.”

Bucky nodded, going silent for a while before noticing the silver dog tags hitting against your chest every time you moved.

“Are those yours?” Bucky asked.

You nodded.

“From this war or the last?”

“Do I look old enough for them to be from the last war?” you asked with a snort.

“I never like to assume a lady’s age.”

“You’re trouble, Sergeant Barnes.”

Guards came to take him away before either one of you could have more conversation.

✭✭✭✭

Lock clockwork, you were taken to Bucky’s temporary chambers in the hospital after his breakfast. Both of you had concluded that the other was an ally, potentially even a friend in this grim place.

Bucky turned away from looking at his shoulder that was no longer an open sore to staring at the ceiling.

“Wish I would have met you back at camp. Did you ever hear about getting an assignment with the 107th?”

“No, I don’t think so. Although, I hate to admit it but I never really paid attention to assignments. I just showed up where they directed me too.”

“Shame. I’m sure you would have brightened up the days at camp.”

He smirked when you rolled your eyes. It was so easy to pretend that you guys were back on one of the military bases. Without guards breathing down your back, you could almost imagine that you were in one of the medical tents and simply tending to a wounded soldier.

“Sergeant, are you flirting with me?”

“Is there another pretty doctor fixing me up?”

“I’m just a nurse.”

Bucky pretended to ponder that thought for a few seconds. “Well, HYDRA’s training you up, aren’t they? And you have that weird magic that I’m really grateful for right now. I think that makes you qualified enough to be a doctor.”

“You’re too handsome for your own good. I hope you know that.”

He finally sat back with a smile. “So what I’m hearing, doc, is that my flirting does have an effect on you. I was worried that I was losing my touch.”

✭✭✭✭

“Not to be offensive to the lady patching me up but where are you from? You sound kind of like a lady I know, Peggy Carter but you also sound like you belong from Brooklyn with Steve and I. And your tags don’t look like the British ones.”

Your nose scrunched up as you tried to stop from laughing too loud before it attracted the guards. “I don’t know anything about Brooklyn but my family are from the States. They moved here when I was little. Better life and all that. I guess I still sound like my parents somewhat.”

“Did you get that better life? Before HYDRA, I mean.”

You shrugged. “In some ways. In others, the racism is all the same. As for the tags, I lost my original. They gave me new ones while I was sent out to some American camp with a nurse shortage. Don’t tell anyone but I like this version more.”

“My lips are sealed.”

It was quite obvious to everyone watching that you and Bucky had established quite a rapport. The super soldier felt a bit better at the fact that there was a time he knew you before the winter soldier. You weren’t just another one of his victims that happened to live to tell the tale.

✭✭✭✭

Bucky already knew that he was in his final days before they did something else to him. Carefully, he took off his dog tags and slipped into the pocket of the lab coat that HYDRA let you wear.

“Keep mine for me. I know they’re going to take them soon. And I know I’m not getting out of this shit, not this time.”

“But what about your friend you were talking about? Steve?”

“Trust me, darlin’. The way I was taken, no one’s coming. Just keep these safe for me, please.”

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t the same when he was brought to you. That was already the first change you noticed. You were upgraded from dingy barracks to a solitary cell. You worked next to the other scientists as the resident healer. And the Asset, as they were now calling Bucky, was brought to you rather than the other way around.

He looked more feral than before. More like a machine every time you met him. And every time he left and you were allowed back into your cell, you cried for the man they destroyed. You cried, knowing that you two were stuck at HYDRA for the foreseeable future.

✭✭✭✭

You looked up when the sirens started. Another winter soldier rampage. Part of you thought it was good. Bucky was still sticking it to them somehow. They couldn’t perfectly control him. On the other hand, you hated it because anyone that wasn’t flat out murdered was brought to you for healing. Aside from draining your powers, it gave you horrible nightmares. What you didn’t expect was for the guards to not subdue the rampage in a timely fashion. But it was too late to process that as the soldier busted down the door to the lab.

Both Bucky and Steve noticed the hitch in your breath as you watched the scene unfold. Steve felt awful ever forcing you to leave the quinjet on missions because you jumped and flinched at each gunshot the winter soldier unloaded on the scientists in the video.

The soldier turned his attention to you as the only other living being in the lab. You shook hard as you held your hands up in a surrender fashion. Pleas to spare your life seemed to fall on deaf ears as he stalked towards you. His arm shot out quickly, grabbing you before you even had a chance to run. The wind was knocked out of you as you were pulled back and flush against his chest. Metal fingers crept closer to your throat, wrapping around but not yet crushing.

With an aggressive growl, the soldier ripped his hand away and shoved you against your workbench. You squirmed and panicked as you felt the fabric of your scrubs cleanly tear in two. Even your underwear seemed to offend the soldier as he ripped through them as well, the elastic snapping harshly against your skin. You clamped both hands over your mouth when you felt him prodding and poking at your entrance. You weren’t even sure when he had managed to get his pants down while you were still pinned with one hand.

No one in the conference room was sure of what to say. It was almost like Bucky was trying to be gentle somehow. They expected the same brutal pace from his nightmare-induced rampages in the tower. But what they were watching while still rough was slow. Only the soldier’s flesh hand touched you while the metal one kept opening and closing in a fist. Almost like he was holding back.

✭✭✭✭

The next scene was one FRIDAY deemed important even though you and Bucky weren’t in it.

HYDRA officials gathered in a nice room that didn’t seem to belong to the base. They stared at footage on the screen while some scientist at the front of the room pointed out things. The footage became clearer — the winter soldier’s latest rampage.

“I believe the Asset recognized her ability to heal during his rampage. It is impossible to know what was going through his head but I truly believe he made a connection in his mind and remembered her healing ability, somewhat warping the nature of his rampage.”

“Saving her despite leaving everyone else for dead,” an official answered bluntly.

“Yes. His rampage wasn’t going to stop but the Asset did not want to kill her. We have witnessed the first instance of control during his instability. But that isn’t the only remarkable thing.”

“It isn’t?”

The scientist pulled up the cctv footage. “After his interaction with her. The rampage only continued for a mere two minutes before the soldier returned himself to his chamber without any guidance or threats.”

All of the officials in the meeting room paused. At this point, they had multiple times to learn the Asset’s rampage schedule. So hostile and lasting for long stretches of time that he would have been executed if he wasn’t the only experiment that took well to the serum.

He should have had another ten minutes before they could even start attempting to wrangle him back to his chamber after the first failed corralling. The scientist merely nodded as an answer to whatever question must have been racing through their minds.

“The instability in the Asset seems to stem from a remembrance of his previous life, a longing for that human side. Extensive wiping of his mind doesn’t seem to be a tool that works to eliminate that. We will have to come up with better technology. In the meantime, I would like to propose a temporary solution. Her.”

“The healer?”

“Watch the video again.” The scientist paused at the graphic scene. “Look at her hands.”

They could all see the small glow emitting from them.

“She either calmed his rampage through her abilities or the Asset’s human nature was seeking help and solace and recognized that she had provided a form of that for him in the past.”

Karpov set down his drink with a laugh. “So instead of killing her, he found his solace and took it.”

“Simple biology.”

“And you truly believe it will control his instability?”

“For now. The solution might not last forever but I do believe he can be subdued for now.”

“The problem is if he kills her. We have yet to find another mutant with her power. Her blood and dna give little in progress to create a serum from her. Without her, the Asset is down for weeks instead of days if he is severely injured,” an official said.

Karpov stood, garnering all their attention. “Then offer him other whores first. But if they cannot aid him then she goes in. The Asset is our most valuable weapon. The healer dies then she dies.”

✭✭✭✭

“I’m sorry.” The deep voice startled you.

You looked up to see yourself face to face with the winter soldier. Although, his eyes looked different today. More animated. A touch of clarity. The soldier flexed his metal arm before relaxing it again. He wasn’t with any guards but no sirens were blaring either. Did they let him walk on his own to the lab?

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked, breaking your thoughts.

You wanted to ignore him but the look on his face made you nod. The soldier sucked in a harsh breath. It was silent for what felt like hours, both of you lost in your own thoughts until he came forward and sat down in the patient’s chair. He took a chance and held your knee with his metal hand.

“I didn’t want to.”

The honestly startled and confused you. The soldier turned to look at the door and then the cameras in the corner, wondering how long he’d have before the guards came in and wiped him for this sudden confession. He swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t want to but I think I was going to kill everyone here. I couldn’t stop myself but it was the only thing I could do to not kill you. You’ve always been kind. I remember that now. I think that’s why I didn’t want you dead.”

“Thank you for telling me. I think that makes me feel a bit better, Bucky.”

The soldier sat back with something that almost looked like a smile on his face. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

You gasped when you realized the mistake you made, constantly looking at the door and making the soldier feel on edge. After five minutes, no guards came. Even after you finished healing, no one showed up. The soldier bridged the gap once more, feeling confident.

“Is that my name? I was named Bucky?”

“A nickname.” You didn’t want to tell him more in case HYDRA thought you were pushing it.

“Hmmm. Will you call me that then? Instead of Soldat or Asset.”

You nodded. “Of course, Bucky.”

“I really am sorry for hurting you. I don’t really remember it but I feel that it happened.”

“If you don’t remember it then let’s not worry about it, Buck—” You were interrupted by the crinkling of an intercom.

“Nurse L/N, please escort the Asset back to cryo before the evening ends. You have until an hour after dinner.”

✭✭✭✭

It became a routine for you and Bucky whenever he was let out of cryo. Both of you were suspicious about why HYDRA let you have this time but you didn’t want to question it too much before it was taken away. No guards came in even when you were trash talking their organization. Granted, they mind wiped him and punished you afterwards but even that was less harsh than their normal punishments of the past. You spent most of your time together.

Bucky had a permanent seat next to your work bench. The other scientists learned to bow their heads because the winter soldier wasn’t afraid of growling at them or tensing his metal arm so the plates would crunch against each other with a menacing echo. But you had no reservations. Bucky was entirely soft with you.

He sorted your papers, recovered other people on the base to bring to you when you needed them, and he always brought your meals. And every evening, you were allowed to escort Bucky back to his cryo chamber with no guards around.

In a sort of awe and confusion, the entire conference room watched FRIDAY fast forward at super speed through these clips. The date stamp in the corner of each cctv showed this strange allowance HYDRA gave you and Bucky lasted for a good six months. The footage went back to normal speed.

Bucky looked down when you grabbed his metal hand, slipping your fingers through his, as you led him back to his cryo chamber. He still hated the thing but getting precious moments with you was better than kicking and screaming and being dragged back anyway.

“Walk slower,” he softly commanded. “I just want to savor this, please. They send me out on a mission in four days and then back to cryo for who knows how long.”

“Of course, Bucky.”

You didn’t know if it would get you in trouble later but you didn’t care. You led him the long way through every floor of the facility that you were allowed on before finally returning to the cryo rooms. Bucky protectively wrapped an arm around your shoulder when you two noticed that all of the important officials, including Karpov, were in the rooms.

But none of them summoned any guards. Karpov merely smiled and asked you to continue your standard routine. True to his words, the officials focused solely on the scientists, asking them questions about cryo rooms and what improvements have been made and such.

You were suddenly self-conscious but you tried to continue as usual. There were some things that you had never planned on doing for a man, ever. Bucky knew that. Yet, he was grateful that you bent some of those rules for him even if it was solely out of pity for his circumstances. He sat down while you removed his tactical boots and replaced them with slippers for cryo.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching for your hand again.

“Gear.”

Bucky removed his tactical vest. You raised your eyebrows as he put it to the side instead of handing it to you like usual. He was thinking about something. You just weren’t sure about what. Instead of rushing him, you gave Bucky the time to figure it out. His blue eyes stared down your own.

“I really want to kiss you,” he muttered.

You two were more than aware when all the scientists and guards started leaving at his words. There was no pretense or excuses made. Their Asset made a request that they were willing to grant. This is what they had been waiting for. You and Bucky realized it at the same time. Bucky wrung out his hands.

“I don’t care if they expect something. They kept bringing me women so they must expect something but I don’t want them. I won’t kiss you unless you want it… Please say something.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about in this place.”

You nodded. “I want it, Bucky.”

He surged forward, taking your face in both hands, and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Bucky tensed up when the guards returned. Karpov stepped forward.

“Relax, Soldat. Miss L/N, please prepare yourself for cryo.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widened and your breathing got faster.

Bucky rubbed your arms up and down, applying a slight pressure. “It’s alright. Just like sleeping.”

On instinct, he pressed kisses along your shoulder. You tentatively took the cup of pills one of the scientists handed you. It was like you had a choice. Another held up a large tub of what looked like a gel mixed with lotion. You were informed that because you weren’t serum-jacked like Bucky, they had to prep you differently until your body became used to the chamber. No one said anything when Bucky snatched the jar from the woman. He’d be damned if he let one of them touch you.

It was almost sensual how he made sure the lotion covered every inch of your skin. He kissed you one more time before watching you get into the chamber first before he stepped into his own.

✭✭✭✭

Karpov’s log was simple and to the point.

“Sergeant Barnes wakes up from cryo a lot calmer now. We will be keeping Miss L/N in cryo alongside him.”

✭✭✭✭

“They gave you guys a window?” Ross asked in complete shock at the scene of Bucky closing the curtains over what was clearly a real window.

You two had been moved to a shared cell. There was a real bed in the corner, a small couch, and a small bathroom with just a toilet and a sink inside. It wasn’t much but you and Bucky made it look like a real home as far as everyone was concerned. But, like Ross, they looked on in disbelief. It was obvious that HYDRA was going to keep the two of you together once Bucky had made that first move but they were being oddly accommodating.

“Their deadliest soldier they had to keep brainwashing was given a window? That shows the outside!”

Bucky squinted at the large screen, the faintest hint of a memory flashing before him. “I think I wanted it for Y/N?”

His question was answered as FRIDAY flitted through the data to find what he was talking about. Sure enough, there was documentation. Only, you weren’t in the room at the time that FRIDAY didn’t think it necessary to include at first.

The Winter Soldier was more like Bucky in that moment than the team had ever seen. He demanded a windowed cell, not even realizing that no such thing existed in a HYDRA facility. But no matter who talked to him or tried to hurt him, he wouldn’t listen. The soldier shook his head again before grabbing the throat of the nearest guard.

“My girl wants to see the outside. Misses it. She will get her window or she will accompany me on missions. But I am giving her outside. Doll, deserves it.”

The guards in the video and the team watching on the screen all glanced over at their versions of Bucky. Karpov stepped closer to the soldier. His smile was sickly sweet.

“She will get her window… If you return to the machine, Asset.” He held up a hand before the soldier could growl. “We will let you remember her. But she isn’t your doll.”

The soldier did growl at the way Karpov spat the nickname.

“She is barely your girl. A whore, a pet, a toy, perhaps. All appropriate names. Get back to the machine without causing a fuss and you will get her a window and we will allow her to be your girl.”

The guard slowly dying in the soldier’s clutch gasped as he was finally dropped.

“My name is Bucky. She calls me Bucky.”

Karpov and the other handlers nodded, watching the soldier comply with no further issues.

✭✭✭✭

You were escorted in Karpov’s office, having been awoken from cryo only mere minutes ago. Bucky was scheduled to come home that day. They rarely let you out of cryo when he was on missions. It kept him under control. If there was one thing Bucky would never do, it was endanger your life.

Karpov barely looked up from the paperwork he was filling out. “You are not to refer to Soldat as Bucky anymore. N—”

“I’m not calling him the Asset or Soldat.”

The man in front of you looked up with a bit of a smile. “I see the soldier’s bite has begun to rub off. You didn’t not let me finish. He will be referred to as Sergeant James Barnes. You may call him Bucky in the privacy of your own home but he must get used to his name once again. Assist him with that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed. Guards will be escorting you to your new chambers.”

You stood as straight as possible, preparing for the potential punishment you were about to face. “I’d like to request permission to give Sergeant Barnes his tags back if he is being allowed to become a sergeant again.”

You breathed in deeply when the man came from around the corner of his desk.

Karpov backhanded you. “If you ever hide something like that from us again, the consequences will be more severe.”

“Yes, sir,” you said through gritted teeth. “May I return his tags, sir?”

Karpov snatched them from your hands. You thought that was it. Accepting defeat, you let the guards escort you. You were taken to the first level of the garages. The first thing you noticed was that you were taken to an apartment building. It wasn’t far from the base and nothing else was around. You figured all the other residents were grunt workers for HYDRA. It might not have been the outside and in the city that you were hoping for but you could almost cry at the sight.

The apartment had a living room, two bedrooms, a large bathroom and a smaller half-bath. There was a dining room right off of the kitchen. And several catalogs of furniture laid on the floor.

Nat paused the video. “They didn’t want you brainwashed. They wanted you as an answer to Steve.”

The thought didn’t make the team feel much better. It was another form of manipulation but not through torture. Pity pulled at all of them as they watched you sit on the floor and excitedly thumb through magazines, bookmarking what you thought Bucky would also like. The team watched as back in the facility, Bucky was stopped by Karpov. The dialogue must not have mattered much because FRIDAY skipped right to Bucky coming into the apartment.

He laughed, gravelly from years of having not done so, when you jumped into his arms. Bucky pecked your lips before setting you down.

“We have our own place, Sergeant. There’s a patio.”

“A patio? Well, surely we need furniture for that as well.”

You held up a catalog. “This one is for clothes. Not many options but… We can feel normal.”

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t in tactical gear when he entered the apartment. That was the first thing they noticed.

The soldier wasn’t in his standard uniform or a simple black tank top and pants with his military boots. They gave him scrubs. Scrubs like the ones you used to wear. All in colors that matched your new dresses. The illusion of a normal life. Most importantly, his dog tags dangled on a chain, slipping out of his shirt as he bent down to take off his shoes. He made a beeline straight for the living room where you were reading some book in Russian.

Bucky leaned over the couch, pecking your lips. “We’re a bit low on groceries. I’ll put in a delivery order tomorrow. Is beef stroganoff okay?”

“You could make just a grilled cheese and I’d love it, Buck. Are you sure you don’t want me to cook? You just got back from wherever you’ve been.”

He adamantly shook his head. “Switzerland and you hate anything to do with the kitchen.”

“But you always cook.”

“And you always do the laundry. I rather like our arrangement. I don’t have to do any chores I hate, so why would I let my girl do the ones she doesn’t like? Hey, I got you something.”

He pulled a bar of chocolate from one pocket and a small teddy bear from the other. “Happy Birthday, doll. Sorry I was away for the real day.”

“Thank you!”

Bucky let you pull him down for a few more kisses before stating he had to get dinner ready. You had let him have his domain in the kitchen for a few minutes but you just had to enter. For a moment, you simply watched from the doorway. Bucky was cleaning up bowls that you could tell were holding cake batter just moments ago.

He lifted his head from staring at the pot of stroganoff when music started to play. You tugged at his arm to try and get him away from the food.

“The cake’ll burn. So will this.”

“We’ll set a timer,” you stated so simply.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky smiled as he lowered the stove’s temperature before letting you pull him away.

From the music playing through the radio, everyone could tell it was the 60s now. You and Bucky had been placed in cryo for nearly six years and neither one of you were even aware that it hadn’t been a single night. The two of you didn’t even register that the music was completely new. Instead, you danced in the kitchen without a care in the world.

They watched as you finally went to bed, content with life. Part of the reason you and Bucky didn’t seem to have a proper track of time was because of the new cryo chambers. HYDRA had configured your whole apartment to be one big chamber. The disorientation helped manage Bucky even better. Six years to the two of you just felt like a good eight hours of rest.

Knowing that there was such a big jump in time, the team thought now was an appropriate time to take a break.

Sharon and Maria agreed to monitor the video now on mute with just subtitles while the others moved around the conference room piling plates with food and filling cups with various drinks.

“Do you want anything?” Bucky asked you, pushing his plate a bit closer to your hand.

You shook your head. “The bad years are coming. I don’t think I have the stomach to eat and watch.”

A gasp from Sharon drew everyone’s attention before Bucky could ask you to define what the bad years meant.

“What?” Ross asked.

Silently, Sharon rewinded the video all the way to the beginning, turning up the volume. It was another one of Karpov’s logs. Only for once, he seemed more interested in the camera than usual when he normally does his paperwork while reporting. Karpov set down his pen and pushed a ledger aside.

“Sergeant Barnes and the Asset are starting to work together. His rampages have significantly improved. It seems as long as Barnes gets his girl and as long as she is safe, the Asset will comply. Fortunately, he has also confirmed with this revelation that the instability is purely from Barnes trying to gain control of himself again. We are working on how to eliminate that problem with future winter soldiers. For now, we are aiming for that goal rather than fixing the Asset. He has a solution that continues to work. It will do for now.

“If the newest rounds of soldiers prove to be effective and our improvements to the serums work then we will grant the Asset the one thing he has been asking for. He will be allowed to retire from all missions that are not deemed the highest level. He will resume his life as Sergeant Barnes, training other winter soldiers. And we are considering granting him and his girl a proper house away from the facility. He has not tried to run away since she has been with him and she is too weak mentally and physically to flee if given the freedom.

“The illusion of normal life has done well for him. If he wants a white picket fence and a silly ranch house, we feel confident in giving him that. Zola is coming from America to assess Barnes himself. He hasn’t given an official report yet however he believes that we will be able to transfer the Asset to America. Instead of a HYDRA base, he can live a little away from the city with L/N. Still monitored, of course. However, we might be able to remove surveillance from their house in a couple of years or so. Also, Sergeant Barnes has requested permission to marry Doctor L/N. We will be granting that request.”

It hurt Bucky more than he thought it would to see the wedding ceremony. It looked real. You were in a very pretty wedding dress. His tux looked just like one he was considering for him and Steve’s wedding in a couple years or so. The two of you looked so happy. He didn’t understand the turning point until it stared him in the face. HYDRA didn’t allow mistakes and the Asset had made a mistake. Several.

With you becoming his wife, he had started to care too much. He wasn’t failing his missions but he was getting sloppy. Bucky’s main objective was getting home to you. And that meant taking less risks, taking longer to hit targets, doing more spy work than sniper work if needed. All things that HYDRA didn’t like. But they couldn’t seem to agree on a route for correction.

“If we take her away then it will take us another decade to make the Asset perfect again. He almost believed he chose to be a part of HYDRA. He was nearing perfection. He needs her but he needs to care about her less,” Zola argued. “He needs to be taught what constitutes coming home to her versus what means spending nights in the cryo chamber alone.”

Karpov thought. “So we don’t take her away. We change his nature towards her. She can’t continue being his girl, not until we have studied this final stage more.”

Another official nodded. “She must be his punishment and reward.”

“She will reward him when he does what we want. She will punish him whenever he refuses to comply. And she will always look perfect. His mistakes no longer are a consequence to her. She is the consequence for him. When Sergeant Barnes is able to deliver us perfection, we will allow them to live the rest of their days as proper HYDRA operatives. He will get his doll back forever.”

The word doll left Karpov’s lips with so much venom.

✭✭✭✭

The first time Bucky failed in their eyes, you were brought into a prison cell. A riding crop was handed to you.

“No,” you whispered. How could they ask you to harm your own husband?

It only took one guard slapping you clear across the face for Bucky to call out to you. He tried to calm your tears, telling you to just do what HYDRA wanted. The reassurance he gave wasn’t much of a comfort. You were hurting him. No matter the circumstances, you couldn’t get over it so easily.

✭✭✭✭

A vicious cycle at the hands of HYDRA began. Whenever he failed, you and him were trapped in a prison cell with a riding crop or a taser until you did what they wanted. Whenever he succeeded, Bucky got to go back to the apartment with you with a box in his hand. It usually contained a sweet treat or a new vhs tape or some lingerie for you. And Bucky was given many days, sometimes even a whole week, to just be with his wife and make love to you.

You two cuddled a lot more than before. Bucky tended to hold you in his arms while your murmured apologies and let your healing powers dance against his temple. Neither one of you was sure if it mentally helped him or not but it became a comfort of sorts for both of you.

✭✭✭✭

The change didn’t come gradually. It was a sudden snap. Bucky had failed again and once again you both were locked in the prison cell. You felt like something was wrong when Bucky didn’t give you his customary “It’s alright sweetheart.” But the guards didn’t care, telling you that they’d double Bucky’s punishment if you didn’t get to it.

You were about halfway before he lunged at you. It might have been years but everyone still remembered what a rampage looked like.

The team watched many fast forwardings of Bucky’s rampages, all directed at you now. Bucky understood what you meant by the bad years now. It was like he didn’t exist anymore. All traces of James Barnes were practically gone until only the winter soldier remained.

Another one of Karpov’s logs appeared.

“The Asset’s feelings remain complicated towards L/N. He no longer takes to her rewards but is satisfied using her as a reward for himself. The wiping seems to be having that effect. He remembers a faint desire for her but seems to be under the impression that HYDRA is granting him this release. There is concern that L/N might not survive if he gets rougher.

"Whether from physical or mental stress we aren’t sure. The Asset seems to naturally default to patterns that mimic the apartment incident. The only reason we have yet to step in is we are noticing signs of Sergeant Barnes returning. He seems almost apologetic at harming L/N. We will continue watching this new development and if it is the final stage in his patterning. Ideally, we would have liked to give him the perfect HYDRA life but creating a controlled cycle will work as well.”

“I don’t think we need to see anymore,” Bucky muttered, pausing the video. “She’s cleared, right?”

The committee nodded. Without a shadow of a doubt, you were a victim of HYDRA like Bucky was. Both of you were doing what you were forced to do. They were delicate in their questioning, mainly wanting to know if there was anything they missed. Nick cleared his throat.

“That pattern Karpov mentioned, did it ever emerge?”

You nodded, pulling the dog tags out from underneath your shirt. “It was a routine. Every few years started with us being strangers, getting a few good years of marriage, me becoming the Asset’s handler and then his pet.”

“You never tried to leave or at least get away from Barnes. Why?” Nick tried to keep his voice soft.

“Because when they let me have my Bucky, he was the sweetest man I’ve ever known. You’ve met Sergeant Barnes. He’s always been a charmer. And I wasn’t going to let him go through that hell alone.”

Bucky’s fingers drummed against the table. “You were the tool they were supposed to be bringing me in D.C. a couple years ago, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “Probably. They said something about nearing your major rampage before I was put under.”

“So we were just going to do this again? This fucked up cycle?”

“Until the day one of us died.”

“And you stuck with it… With me.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us? We treated you like one of those fucking criminals.”

“Because you have built a life here, James. You have a partner and family and a really nice career. Why should I be allowed to come in and ruin that? I had a plan. Gain your trust, be pardoned or put on a watchlist or whatever, leave the tower and live some quiet life as a barista in Harlem or maybe Brooklyn. Maybe even Tribeca. I was content with that plan.”

“And that was good enough for you?” Tony asked. “Your husband leaving you and hating your guts?”

“We’ve essentially divorced many times. It doesn’t hurt any less even when I knew you were coming back to me eventually. This was just another one of those times, just permanently. I just wanted both of us safe and as normal as we can be after what’s happened to us.”

It wasn’t the answer everyone was expecting but it gave them an insight into your mind. No one really had a response. Even thinking about being in your position, they realized they were unsure of what they would have done.

“What did Karpov mean by the apartment incident?” Bucky asked, thinking about the last log.

“We were having really good years, no punishments necessary. I think everyone thought you had been perfected. But they had wiped you a little more than they meant to and it sent you into a rampage and you briefly forgot who I was. It’s nothing, Bucky.”

“It was just like my nightmares, wasn’t it? Just like when I hurt you in that prison cell.”

“Yes.” You debated lying but knew he hated that.

“How badly did I hurt you?”

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted. “The memory is still there but I don’t really remember the physical. It’s probably somewhere in the tapes you reco—”

“FRIDAY, please pul—”

“I don’t think you’ll want to see them, Bucky. I had become so used to Sergeant Barnes and they let you keep most of your memories about us any time you were wiped. It took a while for me to remember that you and the winter soldier weren’t the same person. We weren’t doing well for a while afterwards.”

“I need to see what I did to you.”

You didn’t try to argue with him, just nodded ever so slightly. For the first time in person, Steve knew how deeply involved you and Bucky had been. Anyone else would have kept arguing with him. But you could read the micro-expressions on his face and hear the slight bend in his voice that everyone else seemed to miss. You and Steve both knew he needed the closure of remembering everything.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he watched you sit up straight when the front door slammed.

You barely had time to ask what had made him mad before his hand was around the back of your neck and practically dragging you to the kitchen table. Between the hardwood and his metal hand, you felt nothing but pain.

“Mine,” Bucky muttered, voice with the gravelly tone that came with the winter soldier mode.

Your hands flailed pathetically as you tried to get him to slow down a bit.

You excused yourself to the other room, knowing what came next. Your slight trembling as you tried to calm down wasn’t lost on them. They snapped back to attention when you began to beg Bucky — using his title, his first name, and his nickname at different intervals — to continue bruising your cervix rather than begin to prod at your other entrance.

“We’ve never done this before. James, please, no!”

The soldier pushed on, not even trying to accommodate as he set his own brutal pace. You watched the clock on the wall just hoping that he’d be finished soon. A sharp cry came from your throat as he practically ripped himself out of you. With a gentler touch than before, your nightgown was pulled back down.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Shit, are you oka—”

You yanked one of the serrated knives from his tactical gear belt and ran to your bedroom before he could finish his sentence. Bucky didn’t try to get in even though he never heard the door lock. Instead, he kneeled in front of a closed door, forehead resting on it. Tears ran down his face, leaving wet spots on his tactical gear.

“Please, just open the door.” His voice cracked. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. If I had known the Asset was going to rampage then I wouldn’t have come home.”

The cctv footage switched to inside the room. You were holding the serrated knife out in a fashion that showed you had never learned how to fight with it, shaking like a leaf as you stood as far away from the door as possible until you were up against the wall.

Bucky thought he was going to throw up at the sight, so familiar in ways to his first nightmare with you here in the tower but different at the same time. Your nightgown — instead of pajama shorts — was bloody mainly on the lower half. The lower half that wasn’t ripped up. Bruises littered your skin, most in the shape of his fingers. Your tears had dried up a while ago but the stains they left behind still trailed along your cheeks.

The door opened slowly. Bucky nearly jumped to his feet before kneeling back down at your sharp intake of breath. You both looked down at the blood trickle that now landed on your foot. Your trembling resumed.

“Let me help you with that.”

You flinched. “I-I can do it… I think I just need some time, James.”

He began to cry again, watching you twist your body so you could avoid touching him. Announcing everything he did so that you wouldn’t be startled, Bucky moved into the second bedroom that was just used as an office and glorified closet. He didn’t bother to look at the catalogs that HYDRA left, he didn’t need another bed. The floor was good enough for now. Bucky didn’t care about comfort but about your wellbeing.

Every night for a month, Bucky slept on the couch. Whenever your apartment wasn’t turned into a cryo chamber, he’d clutch a pillow so tight that seams were on the verge of ripping and listen to your nightmares. Early one morning, he knocked on the bedroom door and waited for a hitch in your breath. You never answered him but he knew when you were awake.

“I have a mission. I’ll be gone for two months.”

✭✭✭✭

You paced back and forth, wringing out your hands.

“It wasn’t him,” you muttered to yourself, taking deep breaths as you stared at the clock.

He was supposed to be coming home in a couple of hours.

“It wasn’t him. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He’s coming home, not the Asset. Bucky wouldn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me.”

It pained the team to watch your panic. You didn’t look like you believed your own words, not that they could blame you. Bucky stopped paying attention to the screen, although he was still listening. Instead his focus was on you in the other room. He could easily see you through the glass, the way your leg kept bouncing up and down as you sat there.

You turned abruptly when the door started to open. Bucky barely had time to inform you that he was back before you hugged him tightly. You repeated the mantra that you had been saying since the day he left. He stood there frozen for a moment before slowly wrapping both of his arms around you. Both of you sighed for two different reasons as he came to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“Thank you for forgiving me, sweetheart,” he whispered, almost afraid to speak out loud and break the fragile reconciliation you two have built up. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know it wasn’t you, Bucky.”

“But I scared you all the same. It doesn’t matter what they did to me. I scared you.”

“I just forgot it wasn’t you.”

“Don’t do that, doll. Don’t spare my feelings.”

You nodded and took a breath. “It did terrify me. I-I couldn’t tell the difference between you and the soldier. I can handle it when I know it’s not you but…”

“I’ll make sure they never let me be home again unless it’s confirmed that it’s just me. Okay?”

You sniffled but nodded.

Both you and Bucky jumped at the clap of thunder. He held you closer as if that would drown out the sound of rain hitting the windows, pressing another kiss to your hairline.

“I’m sorry about that as well.”

“I know it’s the soldier.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to know. Write down exactly how you know it’s me and not the soldier.”

“You want a checklist?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, Y/N. Give me a checklist. How about I go run you a bath and make dinner and we can watch a movie.”

“They dropped off a new box of vhs tapes. My Neighbor Totoro looks nice. Calm.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Bucky got up the moment the footage ended. The same way he could see you, the team could see him through the glass wall. He hugged you tightly, not saying anything but just hugging you. Bucky took your face in both hands.

“Are you okay? Really, don’t lie to me.”

“It was more triggering than I thought. Fuck, I should be fine by now.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be anything after what’s happened to you. Okay?”

You nodded, going in for another hug to try and ground yourself. Bucky only pulled away when he felt you finally loosen your hold.

“Whatever you need from me, I’ll help you. Seriously, Y/N. Even if you want to move out of the tower and to another country, just call me. Even if I’m busy, I’ll make sure Steve or Sam or Nat is there.”

✭

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#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky hurt/comfort #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #stucky x reader

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