#he is so patient with her and she trust him so completely and i am in shambles about it. this post brought to you by playing tactica and-

[honeysweetcorvidart]

thinking about that one january event…… they are like family. to me

[obsesssedblerd]

Part Four (2): “I promise, I’ll make this right.” 

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary. 

final [second] written part of this smau series. 

Pt. 2: Choso, Shiu, and Gojo

Contains: angst to comfort 

a/n: and here’s the last, last part with the remaining characters! again, thank you so much for being so patient! <3 once again, sorry for any mistakes! 

---

CHOSO 

Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were actually ready to confront Choso, but you know that it’s time. You stand in front of the door to his house, and knock. You wait for less than a minute, then the door opens to reveal Yuuji on the other side, rubbing his tired eyes. His pink hair was messy, so you know that he woke up from a nap not too long ago. 

When he registers that it’s you, he gasps loudly, then holds up a hand and smiles nervously. “H-Hi! Um, wait just a minute, I’ll grab him! Please don’t leave this spot.” 

“I won’t leave, Yuuji.” 

His smile falters a bit. “No, seriously, please don’t. Me, Cho, and Megumi couldn’t find you for days.”

You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I promise,” you say slowly, “I won’t leave.” 

“Good. Be right back.” He gives you a thumbs up, closes the door, and you hear him scream from behind it, “Choso!! CHOSO!!! She’s outside, so stop blasting your sad music and get down these damn stairs!! No, I’m not kidding, why would I do that?!” 

You blink in shock, then Yuuji opens the door once more to smile sweetly at you. “He’ll be out in just a moment.” 

“Uh- Alright, thanks.” 

Not too long after, Choso appears. You can immediately tell that he hasn’t been sleeping much the last few days. Other than that, he looks relieved to see you there. He reaches towards you to hug you, then stops himself, remembering the situation. “Hi,” he quietly greets. 

“Hi. Walk with me?” He nods, and you two walk side-by-side to a nearby park. You let the silence drag for only a few minutes before you ask him the question that’s been weighing on you for the last couple of days. 

“Be honest. Before we got together, did you want to date Yuki at one point?” 

Are you only with me because you weren’t able to get with her? 

Choso stops in his tracks, and looks over at you, eyes blown wide with shock. “No. Never. We’re just friends, like I’ve told you before. I know it seems like-” 

You hold up a hand. “Cho, please just understand where I’m coming from. The-” 

“I do understand,” he says desperately, taking a step closer to you. “Of course I do. That's all I’ve been thinking about. I chose to hang out with her instead of you, numerous times. It’s unfair to you, I know, but I swear-”

“I feel like you love her.” Your biggest fear of your relationship flies out your mouth, and tears rush to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “Every single time, it’s her. It feels like it won’t matter how special something is—like our anniversary—because you’ll run to her the second she asks you to hang out and completely forget about me.” You take a breath and exhale slowly, trying not to make yourself look even more pathetic. “I’m tired, Cho.” 

“Listen to me. I do not love Yuki,” Choso says slowly. “Not now, not in secret, not ever. I am in love with you. You’re the one I want to wake up next to every morning, you’re the only one I trust when it comes to helping my siblings, and you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He scoops your hand into his. “There’s no way in hell that I would choose her or any other woman over you, so I’m begging you, please get that out of your head.”

Before you can use a sleeve to wipe your tears, he wipes them for you, then uses his hand to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. You spent so long planning the dinner for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it like it was nothing. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better boyfriend. So, please, let me have another chance.”

You notice that his eyes are also watery. You’re about to point it out, but he hugs you tightly before you can, his body slightly trembling. “These last few days have been killing me, because I’ve messed up so bad to the point where you think I’m in love with another woman, when you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my  life. I don’t want anyone but you. I could never choose anyone over you. I don’t care who they are.” 

He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “Please,” he repeats once more. 

“Never again, Choso,” you mutter shakily. “I mean it.” 

He sighs in relief, then kisses you. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Walk back with me? I have your present back at the house. Then, we can plan another dinner, and something special after that.” 

---

SHIU

When you enter the hotel room, you see Shiu Kong there, leaning in the chair with a light, but nervous smile. “Hey, princess.” 

The door shuts, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone anymore, so I found a different way to track you.”

Your brain whirrs with multiple possible scenarios, then you roll your eyes when you figure it out. “You asked Toji, didn’t you?” Your work partner was the only one who knew your location.

“I had to blackmail him in order to find out where you were. It wasn’t easy.” 

You give him a fake smile. “Well, I don’t really care about that. You should leave.” 

“No.” 

“Shiu. Don’t piss me off,” you warn. “Go.”

“Not until we talk.” 

You cross your arms. “It’s either you leave, or I will handle you the same way I’d handle any person that comes into my room without my knowledge or permission.”

Shiu holds his hands up. “I’ll let you shoot me after I apologize.” 

“You’ve already apologized plenty over text. I already told you that I’m done. I’m better off focusing on work, and you’re better off just hanging out with your friends.” 

“Can you stop saying that shit? Baby, please, I swear that missing our anniversary dinner was a horrible mistake, and I’ll never make it again if you give me another chance.” When you don’t answer, he sighs desperately, taking a chance with his life and walking over to where you’re standing. “I’m sorry, princess. I completely understand why you’re pissed, and like I said, I’d let you shoot me if it’ll make you feel better. However, I will say that I can’t let you go. I love you.” 

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I don’t think you understand how awful it is knowing that your boyfriend chose a random night of drinking with his friends over a romantic dinner that you spent weeks planning. It makes it hard to believe that you even like me, let alone love me.” 

“I understand why you’re doubting my feelings for you. Anyone would after their lover forgets their anniversary. But I promise, I do love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll show you. I’ll make you feel it. Please give me a chance to fix this.” 

“...But what if you don’t?” 

“Then I’ll let you kill me, like you’ve killed your other boyfriend after he fucked up and broke your heart.” When you raise your brow in question, he answers you, “Toji told me about that when he warned me to leave you alone earlier. Not taking his side at all. Heard he was an asshole, anyway. But, I’m serious. If I don’t do better, and I hurt you again, I won’t run or fight back when you come to kill me.” 

“Shiu, I don’t want to kill you,” you say, slightly frustrated. “I just want you to care more.” 

His thumb brushes underneath your eyes. You didn’t even know that you started crying. “I know, princess, ‘m so sorry. I promise, I’ll never make you cry again, and I’ll be better.” He’s relieved when you allow him to hug you. “Come home, okay? We’ll talk more there, and then I’ll start making this up to you.”

You nod, then rest your head on his shoulder. “You do know that Toji’s more than likely going to kick your ass for blackmailing him, right?” 

“You’re in my arms again, so it was worth it.”

---

GOJO

You’re speeding through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. An hour ago, you got a text from Maki, your precious second-year student, telling you that something bad happened and that you need to come to the school quickly. 

“Maki, I’m here! Are you okay?!” You shout as you burst into the empty classroom. You find her, and you tilt your head in confusion. 

She looks fine. In fact, she’s standing next to a Yuuta Okkotsu, who looks like he’s about to vomit. “S-Sensei! I-” 

Maki cuts him off with her usual, sharp glare. “Not. A. Word.”

Inumaki and Panda are also there, and across the room, the three first years are standing stiffly. 

Something’s up. 

“Okay,” you say to the students as you cross your arms. “What on earth is going on?” 

Nobara looks over at Yuuji, who’s sweating nervously, and raises a brow. “Um… Haha,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Kugisaki. H-He should be here any second, I swear!” 

He? 

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo teleports in. “What’s going on?” He asks as he looks over at the students. “I didn’t see a threat outside of the school. Yuuji said something bad happened?” 

“Great!” Nobara claps her hands together. “You’re both here!” 

Satoru goes quiet, and you raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” 

Maki points to you and Satoru. “You two need to talk.” 

“...Sorry?” 

“You two need to talk!” Nobara repeats Maki’s words. “Listen, we can’t stand having our two favorite teachers separated like this. [Y/L/N]-sensei has been gone for days!” 

“Plus, Gojo-sensei, you’ve been super stressed!” Yuuji shouts in defense. “Fushiguro says that you eat a lot more sweets when you’re stressed. You ate two packs of those mini cupcakes, plus the brownie that Nanamin gave me!” 

When Satoru looks over at Yuuta, he throws his hands up. “No, no, please don’t look at me like that! I voted against this! I said that w-we should probably give you two some space to figure it-” Inumaki slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“We’re just… worried,” Megumi mumbles. 

“Yup!” Panda shouts. “Very worried, and that’s why we came up with a plan to get you two back on track. We’re going to lock you two in this room, and you’re not coming out until you’re happy and in love again!” 

“Because you two are supposed to be together forever and get married and invite us to the wedding!” Yuuji pouts, and the rest of the students voice their agreements. 

You can’t believe it. They set you up. Your mouth falls open in shock, and the students all walk outside of the classroom. Maki and Nobara are the last ones out, and they both glare at Satoru. “Geto-sensei said that you missed your anniversary dinner,” Nobara hisses. “You better give her the most amazing, romantic and extravagant dinner after this, or we will deal with you!” 

Behind Nobara, Yuuta chuckles nervously. “...Pretty sure that you won’t be able to get past his infinity-” 

“Shut up, Okkotsu!” The rest of the students shout, then the door shuts and locks with a loud click. You drag a hand down your face, then scoff. Great.

“Wow, they’re really something,” Satoru chuckles, but when you don’t say anything, he turns to face you, his expression serious, even with his usual blindfold on. “Say the word, and I’ll teleport you out of here. Then, I’ll talk to them.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you say quietly as you sit in one of the empty chairs. “We can talk.” 

As you look around the classroom, a few memories from the year before came back. “Wait, this is the classroom where we met, isn’t it?” 

“Looks like it,” Satoru says as he leans against the wall, smiling softly. “Zen’in, Panda, Inumaki, and Okkotsu were first years. You were standing right here. Your first day as a transfer, and you were already teaching these kids as professionals.” 

“Yeah.” You stifle a laugh. “You stayed for the entire lesson, even though you had a meeting with the higher-ups. Suguru and Yaga had to practically drag you out of here so you wouldn’t spend another hour flirting.” 

“They were pissed, but it was worth it. Our newest team member is just so pretty,” he says, then reaches for your hand, your thumb lovingly brushing against yours as his voice dips lower. “The most beautiful woman that my six eyes have ever seen.” 

It’s a nice memory, but when you remember everything else, your smile falters. Satoru sighs, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl. Not just forgetting the annivesary dinner that you planned, but also for leaving you hanging. I don’t blame you for disappearing for a few days. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve been upset, too. I really don’t have an excuse. That was just… wrong.” 

“I appreciate that, Toru, but… are you sure that this even works? All of the chasing, the begging to spend just a few hours together, it’s draining. I know you’re the strongest sorcerer-” 

“You matter more than that,” he says firmly. “So much more than that. If it came down to choosing between you or being the strongest, I’m choosing you in an instant. I meant it when I said that I’d let Toji Fushiguro kill me again before letting you go.” You wince when you remember the gruesome details of that story, but don’t interrupt. “I made a horrible mistake by forgetting that date. I can’t imagine how awful it was sitting at the restaurant all alone. I’m so sorry. I don’t care how long it’ll take to make this up, I’ll prove that you mean the world to me.” 

You consider his words. While you’re still a bit hurt about being forgotten, you miss your boyfriend, and you do believe that he’ll make it up to you, despite you being a bit hesitant. “One more chance, Satoru,” you tell him. “Don’t ever do this to me again.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” he says, lifting his blindfold to reveal the gorgeous, cerulean eyes that you love so much. “You won’t regret this.” When you reach for him, he lowers his infinity fully to let you hug him, a long exhale leaving your body when you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and his scent. “I missed you,” he whispers to you. “I was so worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

He kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you. “Okay, time to go.” 

“Go where?” 

Satoru chuckles. “I owe you an amazing, romantic, and extravagant dinner, otherwise my students will find a way to kill me. Plus, we’re going to be disappearing for a while. I got a trip planned. Flight leaves early in the morning.”

You gasp. “What?! But what about work? Or the students? Or the-” 

He interrupts you with a feather-light kiss against your lips. “All taken care of, pretty girl,” he purrs. “Just let me make this up to you, okay?” 

“Alright, but first you need to apologize to the students for wreaking havoc while you were stressed, and buy Yuuji a new brownie.” 

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[colourstreakgryffin]

May I request Husk with young daughter reader? Like reader is his daughter from his overlord days and reader stayed by his side by her father when he was taken under Alastor? She a little sweet, genuine darling who loves her papa.

Hehe! Awww! I love Husk and I am so excited to write for him independently! Let’s give our grumpy cat bartender lots of love~!

Husker- Precious Kitten

May I remind you all that it’s canon that Husk is great with children and is extremely patient? So, you know that Husk is the best dad in Hazbin Hotel and his daughter is very cared for

Husk regrets losing his Overlord power to Alastor but apart of his deal with Alastor is that he doesn’t touch you nor does he keep you away from Husk. So, even though this deal is complete bullshit, he has the one thing keeping him happy

You never leave his side and Husk will fight anybody to make sure you’ll be right there. He isn’t a fan of you being around his bar but he doesn’t trust anybody with you, he wants you to be at arm’s length all the time

Husk is naturally overprotective over his young daughter because of Alastor. He went from protective, because of Hell and the dangers of being a child in Hell but now, it’s bumped up to a extreme level since he is afraid Alastor may try something to torment him

Husk may hate the domestic cat instincts and habits his current form has but that doesn’t stop him from licking your fur when he feels like you need to be clean. He’ll pick you up with his mouth, put you down on his counter and lick your fur. It’s quite cute since it’s much like a mama cat and her kitten

You’re his human child as well, hence why he is so close to you. The daughter whose birth was responsible for the love who killed his ability to love’s death. Whilst he lost his love, he gained a new one and since you did some shady things in your childhood, always linked to your father’s hand. You dropped into Hell with him when you were both shot to death

Husk won’t ever let you be around anything adult. So, that means he is much more harsh and strict with Angel Dust, demanding he acts child friendly whilst at his bar and gets into arguments with the spider sinner over you. You’re his sunshine, his limelight, his little angel. Husk won’t let anybody taint you… anymore than you already are

Husk is a bit more desperate to get back his Overlord powers since he can barely protect you in this realm, even if he is always around so he is trying to confront Alastor to break the contract. He needs to keep his babygirl safe at all causes

Husk likes to hold you in one of his arms whilst doing his bartending work with the other. Feeling his soft kitten sleeping on his chest and laying in his arm is such a comforting feeling, makes the tension blow away… it’s the only real comfort he gets in this shit sandwich of a demon life

Husk is amazing at playing with you, trust me. He is grumpy and calloused but he is actually very childish and has a vivid imagination that enables yours. He will keep you entertained and constantly learns new magic tricks to blow your cute little mind

Yes, Husk cannot stop himself from purring anytime he holds you. It’s a reflection of his joy when around you and whilst he dislikes the cat features, he can excuse the purring to focus on you

Husk has been working much later at his bar. Cleaning up bottles with his beloved little kitten, the little girl who was right there the entire time. Right next to him when Alastor first summoned Husk to the Hotel and right there when Husk became an Overlord then lost his identity to Alastor but he didn’t lose everything. He managed to keep you, Husk managed to convince the Radio Demon to let him take care of his own daughter

Husk silently stacks up the sparkling alcohol glasses, being quiet as possible. The only hearable noises are his paws shuffling on the ground, two sets of gentle breathing and light clinks of gorgeous clean glasses. Husk is staying quiet so his babygirl, Leitora, can sleep peacefully

As usual, you’ve been with him since the beginning of his shift and you’re here with him to the end of it

You’re much younger than most Sinners here. The youngest is eighteen… you’re eight. Having died so young and only at Hell because you mimicked your gambling and crime-filled father(you didn’t drink— fuck, you didn’t drink!). But Husk is so glad you’re here, he’d be suffering and entirely miserable if you were up in Heaven

He isn’t happy that you’re in the worst realm after your short life was taken away from you so abruptly and cruelly but he is also thankful that you’re okay and that you’re thriving in a area he can always overlook you

Eventually finishing up wiping down the front bar counter with a slightly damp soft cloth through those few more minutes of silent and steady working, the dark emptiness of the Hotel foyer looming over his head. Husk readjusts the way he holds you to his fluffy chest so you’re more comfortable. Ignoring how numb his forearm and hand feels, he just loves hugging you to him

It fills the void called his heart. He doesn’t have much luck with romance nor gambling but he has the best prize any man could ever want

You’re sweet, you’re precious, you’re very loving and attached to him, you’re such a nice little angel. You resemble Charlie Morningstar almost perfectly and you even have matching cat features to his. It ties the father-daughter dynamic you two share even more, making it stronger and making your bond stronger. Husk’s sharp golden yellow eyes switch inbetween hanging up the damp rag to air dry to your head laid on his shoulder, your small little face sleeping peacefully, your soft pretty eyes fluttered close

In a single blink, Husk is brought back into a livid memory. The moment resembles one he had when he was rocking a four year old you asleep on his chest, back when both of you were humans and he can’t help but feel his undead heart swell with pride and a overwhelming sense of joy at that memory

His life was quite shit, even on Earth but he had the single card of positivity in the deck of darkness, and that card is the little girl his longtime wife gave him whose ended up with him through all of eternity

As soon as he finished with this shift, the menacing darkness of the spacious room begins to linger even further but it doesn’t intimidate Husk in any fashion. He opens the employee-only entrance gate from the back-around column built into the back of the bar so he can get out. Taking his daughter with him, his glowing yellow eyes making a resemblance of a flashlight so he can lead himself through the Hotel’s extravagant hallways

Husk eventually, after a single elevator ride and a bit of rocking you in his arms so you don’t get jolted awake every time he steps in his relaxed pace, softly pushes open the door of the hotel room he shares with you and whilst he is quite tired, he prioritises your comfort and ability to sleep over his. Walking up to the cute child bed right besides his own casual big one, the colourful bed Charlie had made for you

Husk places you into the bed, drawing back the cute vibrant blankets then tucking the two layers of thick cool fabric so you’re cuddled up and comfy, the mere second he plops you onto the mattress and the pillow holding up your head. The soft purring coming out inbetween every breath sends waves of serotonin over the Hazbin Hotel bartender, enabling his own instinctive purring

Tucking his beloved child in is a familiar act Husk is quite accustom to; putting you to bed, getting you food, picking you up, playing with you, dressing you, making you smile and laugh at his magic tricks, making sure nobody will try feed you alcohol

Husk can’t help but admire his little kitten sleep for a bit longer, maybe a few seconds at most. Yeah, you’ve been with him all day, every day but he can never get tired of your presence. You’re his precious gemstone and his love for you far surpasses everything. Running a hand through your soft shorter fur, he eventually pulls away to let you rest on your own, you’ve been asleep for maybe two to three hours now and he wants you to get the needed amount undisturbed

Husk undoes his uniform, messy and too tired to even bother being tidy and sophisticated with his belongings, due to how shit this day has been, and flops onto his bed to immediately pass out. But he doesn’t do any of that before whispering out one more thing, certain that you won’t hear him and kissing your little forehead

He isn’t aware that you heard him, slightly waking up at the feel of his lips on your skin

“Goodnight, Kitten…”

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Fall in Love in A Night

James Potter x Black!Reader

Say You Won't Let Go James Arthur

Masterlist

Summary: College AU, Muggle AU, James falls in love with the some of the worst parts of you, his best friends sister }

Wc- 3529

Cw: FIRST DRAFT - Not proof read- Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, Sirius is kinda a butt and broken hearted, Amos Diggory slander, Pandalily, insecurities}

One party, one night. You promised your friends when you went to the Gryffindor dormitories past curfew, this was a one party, one night, thing. 

You never really drank, you never really partied, you never really “had any fun,” Marlene would mock you. In all fairness, your oldest brother partied enough for the both of you. He would usually blow his top at the idea of you drinking in the lion's den, surrounded by bold and cocky red scarves. But he was at home, spending time with Remus.

The only reason you came, however, was because Lily promised to be by you the whole night. That, and well, your most recent break up. You would do anything to get the absolute arse that was Amos Diggory out of your mind.

You didn't know why you trusted that, because the moment she saw Pandora she was in another universe. Following the blonde around and hanging on her every word. It would be cute if she didn't abandon you five shots in. 

Well, you had other people to entertain you at least. You had spent the better half of your night sobering up enough to listen to Arthur Weasley, a teacher's assistant, explain an admittedly simple muggle board game, going off the two girls that had since abandoned them at the table.

You didn't want to kill his vibe, but Molly Prewett was most definitely flirting with him all night, and he seemed too enraptured with the cardboard on his lap then what could have been there instead. Again, it was none of your business, and you were just happy the hardass was having fun. 

They were so painfully obvious about it. Molly had asked him to reexplain things several times, batting her eyelashes at the fool, and he was none the wiser as he explained it. He was too patient and dumb for your liking. Still, he extended the same courtesy to you, who was equal parts frustrated and amused. 

“So.. it's called Shoots and Ladders?" You mumbled, for the fourth time tonight, leaning your cheek against your palm and looking up at him with ever dwindling hope that he would say something even a little interesting. Anything to not look completely awkward and alone.

You knew he liked his muggle arts, but genuinely, it was not that fascinating. Shoots go down and Ladders go up as they tend to do. How enrapturing.

"Arthur, would you like to dance?" You asked and Arthur smiled at you, toothy and shy, “I uhm.. yeah, yeah, I'd like to dance.” 

“Good. Because Prewett has been staring for over an hour waiting for you to ask her.” You gestured across the room and the older boy looked over. Instantly making eye contact with Molly who looked away quickly. It finally seemed to click for him and he wet his lip, standing up.

“Has she been-”

“All night.”

“Truly?”

“Do you really think that game is that interesting?” You mused and then slowly smirked. “Don't answer that.”

“I am a moron.” He muttered with puffed up cheeks and you threw your head back with a low groan. He hurried after Molly who was now playing coy. Alone, again. At least your friends were having fun.

Your eyes scanned the room and they locked on a familiar figure. Damn it. 

You quickly began to stand and gather your purse, before he walked up to stand beside you. It could be seen as friendly, but he was right between you and any viable exit from your seat. You closed your eyes and gave a small sigh before looking up at him. “Diggory? Excuse me, I was just heading home.” You huffed.

“Woah woah, what's the rush?” He smiled in his usual sickeningly sweet drawl. You rolled your eyes as he leaned his arm on the back of your chair. Even as drunk as you were, the smell of alcohol on his breath turned your stomach in an unpleasant way. “Come on, you've hardly even touched the dance floor. Why not one more dance? I'll leave you be, swear it.”

You stared at his offered hand and for a moment truly thought about it. Were you drunk enough for this? 

"Diggory, I don't think that's-" Before you could finish with her puffed up cheeks, someone cleared their throat. 

"Hey! {Y/N}, right?" A voice cut in. You and Diggory looked over to see no one other than James Potter. Now, you knew him, you knew him from the several heart breaking attempts at trying to win over your dearest friend Lily Evans. Now, you hadn't seen him in quite a while, after Lily finally broke and told him she liked girls. You felt horrible at the look of absolute mortification when he realized she was not, indeed, playing hard to get. She just truly wasn't interested in him. You still saw him on occasion, seeing as his best friend was your brother. Not that you were allowed near your brother’s friends, he had threatened them with violence unknown if they tried anything, even being near you was a crime in his eyes.

Which begs the question, why was he suddenly here? “{Y/N} Black? I hope you remember me.” He cheeked and you couldn't help but smile a bit. Why was he so nervous? You've talked before. Must be the impending Black Wrath. And who could possibly forget the James Potter?

You glanced up and looked between Diggory and him for a moment before you popped your tongue and leaned back. "Yeah, of course I do." You tried to joke, coming out a bit slurred. Wow. You don't realize how strong fire whiskey was. You attempted to stand up again and this time Diggory relented and let you pass. You stood in front of James, and he rubbed the back of his neck. His face was flushed and his words were stammered, he must have been just as drunk. 

"It's nice to meet-" He seemed to pause and he looked startled at his own slip up. “N-not that I don't know you, well, you know me. I hope- I hope you know me. Well, you said you know me, just-”

You held your hand up and he stared at you with wide eyes and flustered cheeks so dark you were sure he would pass out. He seemed both thankful and distressed that you stopped him. You were doing your best to hide a cheeky smile. “Rewind.”

“How far?” He whispered.

“Hm.. as funny as most of that was, let's start back at, ‘of course I do’.” You smirked this time and he seemed to sigh in relief.

“Thank Merlin.” He mumbled and clenched his chest. You laughed.

“That's not my name.” You mused and leaned a bit closer. You had to admit, he was cute. Very cute.

He gave a laugh at this and shook his head. Turning to look behind you before his tense shoulders relaxed. “There we go. He's gone.” James muttered and you turned to look back and saw Amos trailing off to go talk to some other girl. You shrugged it off, you were busy now.

“Are you alright? He seemed a bit..”

“Pushy? Yeah. He's.. he's interesting.” You sighed and straightened your back a bit. You were surprised when your brother nearly hexed him on the spot when he found out you two were seeing each other. Now? You understood completely. 

He was a rake. Flirted with anything with legs and called you delusional when you spoke up about it. Well, you can't exactly hide walking in on him and Rita Skeeter in his dorm room. You don't know what you were more mad about, catching them in bed together or seeing Rita Skeeter naked.

“Yeah, he's.. a piece of work.” He mumbled and you shrugged it off, his eyes drifting back to you and locking.

You stared at him for a moment and slowly tilted your head. He looked like he was building confidence for something. You could see a million different thoughts in his head as his eyes searched yours.

“James-”

“At risk of humiliating myself further,” He muttered quickly, and offered you his hand. You stared at it bewildered before you looked back up at him. “Would you like to dance?”

Your eyes searched his for some ulterior motive. What was the sudden change for? James never paid particular attention to you but the way he was looking at you right now.. 

Now, these parties ended in one of two things, a hookup or a make out session. At least, that's what your brother always told you. Amos didn't show you any different, and coming here, if you said yes to James you had a small nagging feeling that was where this was headed.

“.. Why not, Potter?” You smiled and took his hand. He gave a look, smiling so wide his dimples caved into a fold. Merlin he was really really cute.

~~~

You couldn't lie, you were having the time of your life. Dancing and twirling on the floor with James, you two had a bit of a rhythm, dancing off beat at times as you got so wrapped up in your own ridiculous little worlds. Taking shots and practically joint at the hips all night.

As it went on you got more comfortable. The space between you was shrinking, and his hands slipped from your waist to your hips. You both were practically grinding on each other at points, neither of you daring to step back. It felt warm. Everything was warm. His hands, his breath, his body. You felt like fire, and you wanted so much more.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the break up, maybe it was the fact that you knew it would piss off your brother, but you tugged James out of the party and into the halls, instantly your body was cooled by the night wind slipping in from the windows.

Out in the hall you pulled James down into a kiss. It felt like sparks were set off on your skin. He grabbed your hips and walked you back into a wall, both of you were both far too absorbed in one another to even think. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You had snogged before, of course you had, but his large hands all over you, his lips on yours, bruising the skin, as he commanded the kiss, the way he held you so secure, you about died. 

You broke away slowly, tugging him closer towards a broom closet not too far away from where you stood. He gave a chuckle and shook his head, your drunken mind could only pout. He quickly took your cheeks and kissed you again, stifling any whines before he broke the kiss and smiled sweetly at you. "I'm not taking a girl like you in a broom closet." He smirked, you opened your mouth to protest before he quickly interrupted. "Especially," He dragged out every syllable, "While you're drunk, darling. Let's get you home, yeah?" He asked and you melted into his hands, still pouting but giving in.

James stared at you for a moment before he began to lead you down the steps in front of the campus dorms. 

The wind was sharp and cold on your burning skin, worse than inside. You swayed as you stepped, James didn't hesitate to grab your waist and help you down the stairs. Out of the rare coherent thoughts you had; you were just glad you didn't wear heels. 

A part of you felt bad, for being such a mess and having James Potter, your brother's best friend, a guy you personally hardly knew, taking care of you. But with his hand around your waist so secure you couldn't bring yourself to think twice about it. Your head lulled back and you smiled at him. You knew you must look a sight, sweaty, bug eyed, your eyelids kept sagging and your baby hairs clung to your skin through the sweat. 

You knew you didn't look pleasant at least. Your eyes slowly shut and let out a hum, whining as James pulled away, losing his warmth when he did, only to melt as his jacket covered your shoulders. Eyes slowly opening to look up at his blurry figure.

He gave you a smile when he knew you couldn't see, it was gentle and it was affectionate. You both began to walk. You didn't know where, too wasted to even remember James didn't know where your dorms were. He had his arm around your waist and kept you still, not planning on moving anytime soon as you let him take on your weight, the liquor making it harder to think straight. You staggered and stumbled but he was always there to keep his grip on you. Always catching you. You could almost forget he was wasted too.

You felt humiliated and embarrassed when your mind grew sober. You spent the night trying your absolute hardest to forget your ex and now you were making James pick up the pieces. You dance the night away with your brother's best friend, and he wouldn't even have you. Now, you were forcing him to take you home because they were both far too drunk to drive and she was too stupid to call her brother for a ride. 

The thoughts spun in your head and you felt bile raising in your throat. You gagged and covered your mouth, quickly stumbling out of his arms to the grass of the park you were stumbling past. Kneeling over some bushes and vomiting with some very unpleasant sounds. You slowly fell to your knees and resisted the urge to sob.

It was official, you hated tonight. All of it. You began to throw up more, and you felt his hands comb your hair back to gather it up, one of his other hands rubbing your back. Your stomach churned painfully and you let out the sobs you held back. You always forget how much this part hurts.

Merlin what the fuck was wrong with you? Your brother was right, you shouldn't be dating until you're at least 100. Hopefully James is too drunk to be crossed with you. You slowly looked back at him with your pout and tried to wipe off your face, he produced a packet of napkins from his pocket and began to try and clean your lip. Fucking hell- now he was babying you.

Your wobbling eyes looked up at him and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes held something you hadn't seen before.

He was smiling, clearly still tipsy himself, hiccuping into his palm. You were stunned to see how fond his smile was. "You're bloody breathtaking. Do you know that?." He whispered to you and slowly pulled you into his chest despite your protests of how nasty you must have looked. 

He curled his leg forward and let you lean your full weight on it. He rubbed your back as you laid rag dolled against him. He let you collect yourself. 

It was getting colder, and later, but neither of you seemed to even think about the weather, the people passing by, the street lights turning off. You both just stared at each other before beginning to devolve into a fit of giggles. He grabbed your cheeks and began to pepper your face with kisses. You scrunched up your nose and laughed, quickly returning a few of your own. "How'd I get so lucky?" He mumbled and you were once again floored by his response.

"I-" You began to let your tears fall down your face, trying to dry them quickly, not wanting him to fuss over you anymore then he already was. Once again, this enigma of a man slowly cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss. You didn't even think to protest considering the acid in your throat that still lingered. He didn't seem to care.

James Potter was a mystery. People talked about his kindness, his big heart, his utter stupidity. You were sure all of those things were true. Who kisses a drunk girl in the middle of a busy city sidewalk? On the grass as if she was the only person alive?

You were sure he had no shame.

The truth was, he didn't. James was fucked. He fell, and he fell hard. He knew he liked you for a while. You were probably one of the only people who looked at him like that. Like you wanted more of him. Like you wanted to know him. Sirius never noticed his little crush, thank Merlin. James thought it was gone, he focused on obtainable girls, but bloody hell here he was. With this studious and quiet girl, always looked her best, always sassy and calm, smart but never flashed it about. You were the opposite of him, he never thought it would work.

When he first saw you interact with Amos, he knew he wanted you. when he was told he cheated, he never felt so much bubbling anger. Even Sirius noticed, but James managed to play it off as just another quorum of his big heart. Dating his best friend's sister was nothing maintainable. Even as he had to watch you date absolute losers, watch them get what he wanted more than anything. Even then, it was always just a crush. Something he couldn't be too consumed over.

But now? You were the most bare, raw human to him, exposing every part of yourself intentionally or not, and he didn't know his heart could clench so hard. He didn't know a crush could turn to love only took two hours. 

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home." He whispered and stood up, helping you up as well and you got back to walking. 

It was a long and peaceful walk, it was charming, tumbling over each other and laughing most of the way there. You could feel it, something changing in your chest. Looking up at him and noticing his chiseled jaw and handsome features, his dark clear face sent you into a daze, and when you saw his charming hazel eyes you were done for. You could easily forget this was James Potter.

Yeah. For you, it took four years of being love blind, three months to get over it, and, of course two hours to fall in love. You kept staring at each other as he walked you up to the door. Biting your lip as he knocked on the door. You fiddled with your skirt. "Do you think they are up?"

"Mhm.. doubt they've done much sleeping.." You mumbled and slowly looked back up at him. When did you get so shy? You bit his lip at the discovery he never looked away. 

"... please tell me we'll talk again." His voice was low and sweet. But he sounded so desperate. "Even if it's just a hello in the halls."

"I promise." You whispered so quickly you almost interrupted his next declaration. Not even noticing as the door opened.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

You stared up at him with parted lips and wide eyes. James looked like a nervous, flustered mess. Absolutely wrecked. It took one walk. One walk and you ruined him. 

“I-”

“Absolutely fucking not!” Sirius shouted and grabbed you by your arm, yanking you into the apartment. 

James paled and stared at Sirius like a deer in headlights. Sirius looked ready to kill.

“Sirius-”

“You,” He pointed at James’ chest sharply as your brother practically shoved you at Remus who gave you a sympathetic look. “I'm not going to warn you again. Stay the fuck away from my sister, mate.”

With that, he slammed the door in James' face. 

James stared at the door, still trying to gather himself. He hadn't even realized he said that out loud. He was frozen. What were you going to say? Would you call him crazy? Reject him? Make a fool of him? You just.. you never seemed so shy before.

His heart was a mess but the final nail in the coffin. He could hear your voice on the other side of the door. Growing closer. Like you were fighting to get there.

The door suddenly jerked open and your eyes widened as you saw him still standing there.

He was startled, still far too much heat to his head, frying his brains.

“I-I fancy you, Potter!” You declared and you watched in slow motion as his clueless look slowly lit up into. Bright dazzling smile. 

“James, please, for the love of Merlin call me James.” He pleaded and you gave him the same dazzling drunk smile.

“Jamie.” You cooed, James was a goner, and Sirius finally managed to slam the door closed, much to both of your disappointment.

This time, James had the sense to leave. He did not want to be here when Sirius snapped.

He, still tipsy, reached for his pockets as he walked back towards the campus, and he threw his head back with a laugh. 

His bloody keys were in his jacket pocket.

[adventuringblind]

Celebratory Kissing?

Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Fluffy smut

Summary: Oscar gets his first win and celebratory activities ensue.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, switch Logan if you squint, subspace for reader and Logan (eventually), SOFT dom Oscar (a simp is what he is), oral (both receiving), fingers, unprotected sex (don't try this at home kids), Praise, oral fixation, marking/biting

Notes: Another request! haven't done a smut in a while. I might be a wee bit rusty...

Side note: I finished this mere hours after I had to put my dog down 😬

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

A sprint win is still a win. An argument she is determined to put to an end should Oscar tell her otherwise. This is an achievement and should be recognized as such.

Logan appears in front of her. His body absolutely gleaming with sweat and hair tussled from his helmet. "You look wrecked."

"The good kind I hope." She hands him the water she's holding, and he holds eye contact while trying to drink it. Only to fail miserably and dump it everywhere.

"It's about fifty-fifty. Half like Oscar just ruined you and the other half like you might be sick."

"Jokes on you, I probably am!"

She stares at the McLaren garage where Oscar has been swept off to. "Do you think he'll accept it as a win?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure yet." Logan crosses his arms and follows her gaze. "We could always convince him it's a win." He wiggles his eyebrows. The last part coming out quieter.

"But you two have to race tomorrow!"

"And I'm not suggesting anything crazy, I would like to be able to walk still. That doesn't mean we can't make it good."

She hums thoughtfully at the proposal. "He won't go for it."

"Trust me, he will." Logan takes his hand in hers and swings their arms back and forth. "We've been doing this for almost two years now. I think we can bring it out of him."

"Lo, I swear to god, if you get us in trouble, I will never let you hear the end of it."

~~~~~

She really shouldn't have been so shocked when Logan dragged her back to the hotel promising Oscar a 'surprise' for his victory. The Aussie had given them a questioning look, but just shrugged them off. A quick word about staying hydrated was thrown in there.

Now she's sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and patiently waiting for Logan to tell her what his plan it. He's been digging through Oscar's luggage for the last five minutes mumbling about disorganization.

Finally, he pulls out the tightly wound coil of rope and makes a triumphant 'ah-ha' sound.

"You were looking for rope?"

"Yup!"

"And what are you going to do with said rope? Oscar is the only one with enough patience to manage any kind of Shabari-" Logan shuts her up by starting to tie the rope around her wrist.

"This okay?"

"It would be more okay if you told me what we were doing." She huffs in annoyance.

Logan rolls his eyes dramatically. "Figured I'd put you down first. Get you to that headspace that drives him feral."

She has to suppress the whine that threatens to leave her throat. "What about you?"

"One of us has to be coherent until he gets here. He can do what he wants after that. We just need him to see you first." Logan finishes the rope on her wrists, successfully securing them behind her back. "Not saying I'm not enticing, mind you. I just know how to put you down faster than the other way around."

Which - okay, Logan isn't wrong there. Oscar seems to hit the sweet spot with him where she can't. Not for a lack of trying, she just does not have the tone of voice that send her American partner over the edge. "Well played, Sargeant."

"I thought it was clever." She can't see him, still settled behind her. It doesn't matter. She knows he's smirking; can feel it in the open-mouthed kisses he's placing on her spine. It's ridiculous how much simple touch affects her.

"You slip so easily."

"Shut up."

It doesn't help that she's completely bare. Logan still has his sweats on, which only makes her feel vulnerable.

His hands trace the outline of her curves. They drag against the more sensitive areas with a nimble sort of ease. She lets out a happy sigh in response.

His teeth latch onto her shoulder. He bites and sucks a mark that will definitely be visible tomorrow. Logan's always had an oral fixation. Constantly chewing on the ends of his hoodie strings, chewing on pens and pencils, the sheer number of lollys in the house is ungodly. Oscar has used this to his advantage too many times to count. Zoom meeting at the number one offender.

Logan manages to bite all the way down her arm. He slips himself lower to get a better angle on her hips. Fingers bruise her thighs with an impossibly iron grip that he really doesn't need to have.

He attaches to her neck, spinning her around so face him. Logan slides his wet tongue from her throat to her lips. He shoves his tongue down her throat without warning. Successfully making it so she can't breathe; suffocated but only him. Only Logan and his stupidly nimble tongue exist in this moment.

He lets her breath again, only to push her backward onto the bed. Saliva drips all across her body as his tongue slides downwards.

Logan's is panting against her by the time he's finally in between her legs. "You're terribly wet, baby." He licks everywhere except where she needs him most. "Do you want my tongue? Are you going to be good for me while we wait for Osc?"

"I promise - please Lo, need you."

All sense of coherency leaves the second Logan's tongue starts lapping up her arousal. His hands grip her thigs to keep them spread apart.

Her hands would be in his hair if they could. instead, they grip the sheets underneath her. Anything to keep somewhat present. It doesn't work. Her mind is already swimming while the blonde moans into her core, teeth grazing her clit and driving her to the brink of insanity.

Her legs shake as his tongue slips in and out of her. She chokes out his name, on getting close to the point of no return.

He pulls away. Not fully, just enough to stop contact. Went tongue retreating through glistening lips.

IN the background, the sound of the door unlocking startles them both. Logan frantically strips the rest of his clothes in record time, helps her to the floor and manages to get them both into some kind of waiting position.

"I hope whatever you to are planning involves sleep at some point-" Oscar flicks the lights on and she can feel his eyes burning holes into them. "Please tell me you haven't been like this for the last hour?"

They shake their heads no as Oscar looks them over. He grabs Logan's chin and swipes his tongue across the American's bottom lip. "You taste like her. Tell me what you did."

"Got her ready for you."

"I can see that. She's staring at us with that look in her eyes." Oscar moves to her next, dropping Logan's chin and softly patting her cheek. She keens into his touch, aching for some kind of contact again. "Is this my surprise? A good night with two beautifully obedient partners?" His voice is soft with a hint of a condescending tone.

"Wanted to make sure you know that it's a win." There it is. He has Logan in the palm of his hand, whining and slurring his words.

Oscar looks like he might melt. "I think I've already won everything I need to. I have you two kneeling in front of me. That being said, you've got me worked up and it would be a shame not to take advantage of your wonderful surprise."

Oscar undoes the rope around her wrists and helps them up off their knees and onto the bed. "Nothing hard tonight. I'd hate for you to be sore tomorrow, Lo." He kisses them both. Hands gripping their chins and alternating who's mouth he's exploring.

It's heaven. The place with these two. The fuzzy, floaty feeling in her mind only registers them and their touches.

"You did good with her, Lo. Bet you're ready to go, yeah?"

It's the first time she's actually seen how hard the American is. Oscar strokes him a few times, slowly, thumb swiping away the pre-cum that had leaked out.

Oscar jams two fingers into her without warning. "Wow, you really did get her ready. Was this all your tongue baby?"

A third finger slips in. She's dripping liquid all the way down to his wrist. The pathetic whining sounds she's making are outrageous and should be embarrassing. She's to blissed out to care.

Oscar manhandles them to where he wants. Her body shudders as she accepts Logan's length, straddling over the top of him. "Come on, love. You want to make him feel good, yes?" She'd want to do anything Oscar tells her to, really, but she can't say as much.

Regardless, she rolls her hips and moans at the feeling. Logan's mouth goes slack, and Oscar takes the opportunity to slam his dick into Logan's mouth.

It doesn't take her horribly long to get close again. The skin on skin and roll of hips. The impatience of Logan as he tries to buck his hips upward in time with her.

"Osc, please." He crashes his lips onto hers and moans into her mouth.

He pulls away just a tiny bit and clasps a hand around her throat. "Go ahead, cum for be."

Logan slams up into her a few more times before he finishes. She lets herself fall into the abyss of white-hot pleasure. Brain only focused on one thing.

She can hear Logan coughing as Oscar slams into his throat.

It all ends too fast for her liking, and she looks at Oscar expectantly. Waiting and wanting for more.

Oscar pulls her off Logan and lays her body down on top of him. The Aussie take his time exploring their shivering bodies. The amount of concealer they are going to need tomorrow will be ungodly.

"This doesn't feel like the celebratory kissing I'd hoped for," whines Logan.

"Tell you two what: If I can get second tomorrow then I'll make sure neither of you can walk for a week." Oscar huffs. "Also, I'd appreciate it if we could refrain from calling it celebratory kissing."

"But it's tradition!"

"I feel like we've came a bit farther then just celebratory kisses..."

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

requested by @bonesartblog kiss that devil!!!! (you probably wanted something wholesome but it came out super horny lol sorry)

Read on AO3

-

The razor held so close to his face, to the tender skin of his throat. Her hands did not tremble; his trust did not waver.

Tav shaved Raphael slow and careful, focused but taking some secret enjoyment out of moving his head the way she wanted to catch the shadow on the curve of his jaw. He shifted where he sat in a plush chair in his boudoir. He was a very patient man, but he also liked irritating her.

“Stop it,” she grumbled, working to remove an obstinate patch of brisk hairs in the cleft of his chin. Even seated, he was still so big she didn’t have to stoop to reach it.

“This is so dreadfully dull, mouse,” he retorted, sounding as put-upon as possible. Tav knew it was a farce. No one loved being fussed over more than Raphael did. Especially if she was the one doing the fussing.

“It wouldn’t take so long if you’d just sit still.”

“I am sitting still.” He punctuated his point by crossing his legs. Tav gave him a flat look. He blinked slowly at her, amusement sparkling in his pretty eyes. “Might I remind you that you were the one who insisted I needed to shave?”

“Yes, because your stubble kept scratching me. Particularly in…more tender places, you know.” Tav busied herself with her work, ignoring the lascivious and satisfied smile that curled her devil’s mouth. “Besides, I’m almost finished. You can handle waiting a little longer, can’t you?”

“Hmm.”

His skin was so warm beneath her fingers. It thrilled Tav to touch Raphael like this, intimate without the frenzy of sex, but she struggled to maintain eye contact for more than brief moments as she scraped away stubble and soap from his sculpted features. He always watched her so intensely, in a way no one ever had or could ever match, and sometimes it was overwhelming. She saw the inescapable rings of fire that were his irises often in her deepest dreams.

“There.” Using the towel in his lap, Tav wiped him clean and stepped back. “Done.”

Raphael rubbed a hand over his jaw. If he was looking for imperfections, he found none.

“Adequate,” he said. “Though I suppose it requires further testing to be completely sure.”

“What do you mean?”

The devil uncrossed his legs, spread them, slouching back into a far more relaxed posture. “Come here.”

He still made her heart flutter and her stomach swoop like she was a schoolgirl with a crush, and the way he looked right then had her a little weak in the knees. Thin white shirt unbuttoned, trousers loose, barefoot. His hair was still damp from his recent bath. A few locks escaped from the lazy combing he’d given it with his fingers. They hung tantalizingly between his horns. Tug me, they whispered. Dark curls peppered his broad chest and soft middle, tempting her further. His tail swayed ever so slightly, those big gorgeous leathery wings splayed out. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his expression the ghost of a smirk. A devastating and dangerous creature.

Tav went to him gladly.

His hot breath tickled her face and she shut her eyes in anticipation, humming quietly as he kissed her. Deliberately slow, gentle, indulgent presses of his plush thin lips to hers, the corners of her mouth, just shy of the deeper connection she wanted. No self-respecting devil does all the hard work, after all, so Tav pressed herself closer. Entombed by his thick thighs either side. She let one hand settle on his chest, fingers splayed. His heart beat strong and steady beneath them. Her other hand went around his neck to tangle in his silky hair and she kissed him hard. He tasted like cherry soap and smoke. She couldn’t get enough, consuming his cocky huff of amusement at her open display of desire. Yet he returned her passion. One big cambion paw grasped her chin and her neck both, gently tilting her face the way he wanted now so he could sup upon her lips, drink each gasp and sigh he pulled from her, coax her mouth open to push his forked tongue behind her teeth. His other hand squeezed her backside, claws digging in. He groaned throatily when she sucked on his roaming tongue.

“Mm…I did a good job,” Tav said breathlessly when they broke apart, a thin ribbon of saliva still connecting them. She peppered kisses and bites along his chin and jaw. Grinned into his smooth skin when she felt his growing interest. “But there’s still a few other places to test…”

“On the bed, my little mouse,” the devil growled. “Now.”

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Being married to Kate Sharma

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His

~~~

Kate Sharma had arrived in Mayfield with one singular goal in mind: ensuring her beloved Edwina married a good, wealthy man who'd provide her with everything she could ever desire. Of course, that meant she stepped off the boat with the acceptance that she'd never wed nor have children of her own, no matter how many gentlemen Edwina pointed out to her during the first few weeks. She hadn't, however, taken you into account.

The beloved, nephew of the Late Lord Edmund Bridgerton, cousin to the Bridgerton children, and child to exceptionally wealthy parents with steady standing in Mayfair's society. By all means, Edwina should have caught your eye. She was young, beautiful, and the Queen's Diamond of the Season. Most gentlemen tripped over themselves to call upon her, filling Lady Danbury's hall with many gifts for her, and while yes, you had been among those men, you had called upon Kate instead.

It'd thrown her off completely, and she'd been in shock as Edwina ushered her onto the couch and took a seat nearby, trying to pretend as if she and her mother weren't eavesdropping as much as possible. Kate, surprised and undeniably suspicious, had assumed Anthony sent you to distract her from his pursuit of Edwina but you assured her you took no part in it and she allowed herself to trust you.

And that trust proved to be one of the best decisions she'd made, second only to taking on a parental role for Edwina. 

There were a lot of things Kate had envisioned for her own future, truth be told. She'd seen herself become a spinster, a sister-in-law, a happy aunt. Never did she expect to lounge upon a seat with her thumb rubbing her wedding ring and her hand rubbing soothing circles around her protruding belly. But... she was happy. She'd been given the opportunity of being more than just someone's sister. She was a wife, a mother, a good friend, an aunt, and eventually, she'd be Lady (L/N). 

"Hello, darling," Kate murmured upon feeling a soft kick, pressing her palm against her belly and giggling upon feeling another. "You sure are full of energy today." She said softly, pushing herself up in the chair and carefully reaching for her teacup. Kate delicately sipped from it, sighing in bliss as the warm liquid traveled down her throat and warmed her chest. 

"You should be resting, Kate." Her head turned toward the door, a smile stretching across her face at the mere sight of you. 

"I am resting, my love. I refuse to stay in bed until this little one comes."

"Doctor's orders, sweetheart. He said the babe could come at any given moment now." You raised your brows at her and she waved you off with a flick of her wrist, finishing her cup and gingerly setting it aside. You chuckled quietly at her defiance and stepped aside, nodding for the three little ones waiting on the other side of the door to enter. Akshara raced forward ahead of her brothers, her brown ringlets and baby blue ribbons bouncing with her movements. 

"My darling girl," Kate cooed immediately, unable to pull the girl up onto her lap so she settled for helping her sit on her knee. Akshara leaned down once she settled, pressing her cheek against Kate's covered belly and brightening when she felt another swift kick. "Your sibling is so eager to meet you."

"Is it a boy?" The eldest of the trio, Nalin, questioned with wide eyes, resting his arms over the armrest and watching his little sister rub Kate's belly with a gleeful smile. 

"We don't know yet, Nal." You told him as you scooped up Akshara's twin, Edwin, into your arms, feeling the boy drop his sleepy head onto your shoulder. Nalin hummed thoughtfully, moving onto his toes to lean over the armrest and feel Kate's belly. His mother watched with a smile, her eyes softening as she gazed over her children. 

"Well, whether boy or girl, I'm sure they'll be more than happy to play with you and their cousins. You'll have to be patient, love, as we've been these past months. You-" Kate gently booped Nalin's nose. "-took an awful long time to arrive. Your sibling may do the same." 

"Let us hope we aren't blessed with another surprise." You laughed, watching Kate's features contort and a heavy sigh escape her. She slumped back in the chair, carefully petting Akshara's hair, no doubt thinking back on the shocking day in which they discovered in the midst of labor there were two babes instead of one. 

"Yes, please." She laughed breathlessly. 

"Come now, kids. Why don't we pay your cousins a visit and we can give your mother some rest, hm? She'll need as much as she can get when the babe comes." Kate smiled up at you.

"Thank you, darling."

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[vivwritesfics]

Keep On Rolling

Chapter Twelve

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

2K words

Series Masterlist

“I have done God’s work.”

It was a bold sentence, but some people would have agreed with her.

She sat in front of her camera, black headphones covering her ears. Y/N had never done a video quite like this one before; to her viewers it didn’t seem to be anything Formula One related. But it was, they just needed to be patient.

“So, as a good lot of you have noticed, I have spent the last week streaming on Twitch,” she said, moving her hands a lot. “And I know a lot of you thought this was weird, considering I’ve been absent for the last few weeks, but I’m hoping this video makes up for it,” she finished, looking somewhat guilty as she stared at the camera. “Because, as you also probably realised, I wasn’t streaming alone.”

She grinned at the camera as four pictures popped up, one in each corner of the screen. “That’s right, guy!” Animated confetti covered the screen. “I got the Twitch Quartet back together!”

The pictures were moving, Charles, Alex, Lando and George all cheering. “Anything you guys want to say before we roll the footage?” Y/N asked the boys as she leaned back in her chair.

“Uh yes,” Lando said instantly as he got himself more comfortable. “I let her win because I’m a good friend. I am not [bleep] at these games. I’m actually really really good at these games,” he said and stared into his monitor camera.

“You little liar!” George shouted with a laugh.

“It’s fine, Lando. Those who watched the stream know what they say,” Y/N replied with a smirk. She gave one final word before the footage of their streams over the last few weeks started.

Y/N had never watched her own videos before. She trusted James with her whole heart and uploaded what he sent back to her. But this was her first video back since her hiatus and she wanted to make sure it was perfect. It was, edited in a way that made it funny and enjoyable even to those who didn’t game.

As Y/N watched the video, her phone buzzed.

It was a text from Max – three simple words. Come to Monaco.

What were they? Y/N didn’t know. They weren’t friends, definitely more than that now. But they weren’t quite dating. It was basically friends with benefits, with both of them needing to take that leap into relationship.

Friends with benefits was hard when you’re in two different countries. And Y/N’s youtube salary didn’t give her enough money to be flying to and from Monaco every time Max wanted her.

And she told him that. I can’t, she typed out, the video still playing on her laptop. I haven’t got that kind of money.

I’ll pay for it.

She hated it when he did that, hated it when Max offered to pay for her. It was… Icky, made her feel like their relationship was completely transactional.

But she did want to see him, and she didn’t have it in her to turn him down. Okay, she replied and began shoving clothes into her bag.

There was no telling how long she was going to be in Monaco for, when Max would let her go home, when she’d want to go home. So, she bought a plane ticket, not caring about how expensive it was, and Max sent her the money.

Just five hours later Y/N was touching down in France. She got in the taxi and made her way into Monaco, heading towards Max’s apartment. Because of her friendship with Lando, it was easy to recognise her. Especially in Monaco. As soon as Lando had moved there and Y/N had visited him, oh so many pictures of the two of them circulated. Her face circulated the Formula One social media pages and so many people thought they were dating.

 But nobody seemed to notice or recognise her as Y/N stepped out of the cab and made he way into Max’s apartment building. She made her way up to his floor, her black McLaren backpack on her shoulders.

As soon as Y/N knocked, Max opened the door and pulled her inside.

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her as she kicked the door shut behind them. “I miss you,” he whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. From their cat tree, Jimmy and Sassy looked up at her, but they quickly went back to sleeping.

“I missed you too,” she said, her face squashed against her chest.

Max released her and Y/N looked around. She’d been to the apartment every times since that moment in the rain, had slept in his bed just three times. When she didn’t sleep over at his, she made her way to Lando’s, surprising him.

Y/N walked through the apartment, petting the cats as she walked past. She placed her bag down in the bedroom and walked back out towards Max. “Dinner?” She asked him and Max grinned.

He grabbed a jacket from the back of the sofa. “We’re eating out,” he said and Y/N stared at him.

“We’re… what?” She couldn’t quite believe it, couldn’t quite believe that Max wanted to go out for dinner. “But...” It was incredibly hard to express just how she was feeling. “If we’re seen out for dinner, people will talk, you know that?”

Max nodded his head. “Let them.”

***

So, they were out, having dinner. Y/N L/N was having dinner with Max Verstappen. She was having dinner with a two time world champion. It was crazy, unbelievable actually. They sat there, drinks in front of them, enjoying a way too expensive dinner that Max was more than happy to pay for.

She didn’t notice the people taking pictures of them, the papparazi that had honed in on their location. If Max noticed, he didn’t say anything. They were out enjoying dinner together, he wasn’t going to let anybody ruin their night.

After dinner they headed back to the apartment. Any minute now there was going to be news stories about them, she knew as Max shut the door behind them. He leaned against it, watching as Y/N shrugged off her jacket. She hadn’t dressed up fancy, in the same comfy clothes she had travelled in. But Max thought she looked perfect.

He smiled as he pushed away from the door and strode over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in close, kissing her suddenly.

Kissing Max was always unexpected to Y/N. She never expected it, never expected to be kissing the Dutchman. Shock always delayed her reaction and she always took a second to kiss him back.

But she always did, always wrapped her arms around him, leaned into him and always kissed him back. Her eyes closed and Max stepped forward, with Y/N stepping back. When she hit the sofa he lifted her up, sitting her on the back of it.

She pulled away and looked up at him. But there wasn’t much she wanted to day, not much that could convey her wants and her needs. As she looked to the bedroom, Max seem to understand. He lifted her up, holding onto her ass and carried her as Y/N wrapped her legs around him.

***

It was always surreal waking up in Max’s Verstappens bed. Y/N woke up, facing a still sleeping Max. He snored softly as she climbed out of the bed and pulled on his shirt. She grabbed her phone and made her way to the bathroom.

Once she was finished up, Y/N made herself a coffee and sat herself on Max’s couch. She’d been there enough that she no longer felt too awkward about getting herself something to eat and drink in the morning.

As she sat there, she scrolled through her notifications. Texts, emails, a plethora of Instagram notifications. At the bottom of her notifications was a couple of news paper articles. All of them were about the same thing, her and Max having dinner together.

All of the articles named her, named her youtube channel. It was out there now, the world knew. A lot of the messages she had received in the last few hours were about that and nothing but that, sending her screenshots of the articles.

Y/N ignored all of the messages. She hadn’t even discussed it with Max yet, she certainly wasn’t going to discuss it with anybody else. There were messages from Lando, George, Alex and Charles, her best friends on the grid. Y/N ignored them, too. As much as she didn’t want to, she wasn’t going to tell them anything without knowing whether Max agreed with her first.

She clicked her tongue and used her nails to scratch at the material of the couch. Jimmy came running, but Sassy kept sunning herself. “Hey, sweetness,” she said as she scratched the top of his head. He purred and pushed his head further into her hand, asking for more attention. When Y/N moved to stroke along his back, he sniffed at her coffee, but Y/N pulled the mug away.

“Hey.”

She looked up towards Max’s bedroom door. “Hey,” she replied as Jimmy jumped down from the couch and went trotting over to Max, rubbing his body against his legs. “Sleep well?”

They both knew they had progressed further than this small talk. Max didn’t answer as he walked over and sat beside Y/N, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his side. He went to take a sip of her coffee, but Y/N pulled it away. “Surely you’re contractually allowed to only drink red bull,” she said and let a grin cross her face.

Max shook his head at her. But he stood walked into the kitchen and returned with a cold, fresh Red Bull. “Happy now?” He asked and sat beside her.

Y/N nodded her head. But the laughter and the smile dropped away. “I want to show you something,” she said and pulled up her phone. She went into the articles and passed her phone to Max.

Two time Formula One world champion Max Verstappen seen out in Monaco with mystery woman.

Below the text was a picture of him and Y/N at dinner, with photographer only capturing Max’s face and the back of Y/N. He read on.

On the night of Tuesday 19th of September Max Verstappen was spotted by fans with a new woman in an Italian restaurant in Monaco. The driver has not been romantically linked with anybody for quite some time.

It took fans only moments to discover that this mystery woman was youtuber FormulaY/N, a Formula One media personality and best friend to Lando Norris. While it is not uncommon to see her enjoying a meal or a stop at a café with her driver friends, many fans have been quoted saying that this interaction feels difference.

This begs the question, was this just a friendly dinner? Or was something more going on?

So far neither Max nor Y/N have been seen giving any indication of the intentions of this interaction.

“Intentions of this interaction?” Max asked as he passed the phone back to Y/N. “I thought the intention of that interaction was clearly that I want to be with you.” He answered.

But Y/N didn’t have an answer to that. Well, she did, but it wasn’t verbal.

Once again she passed the phone to Max, showing him her email inbox. At the very top of the inbox was one name that stuck out like a sore thumb. Jos Verstappen. Subject line My Son.

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01 @gayfrog29 @fictionalcomforts @avg-golden-retriever @pxppeypianotme @ruleroftheuniverse @ferrarisbitch @ashy-kit @dark-night-sky-99 @sadg3 @asmoothoperator @formula1mount @perfektpasta @redwolfxx @illicitverstappen @ttzamara @nush4 @larastark3107 @rewmuslupin @spilled-coffee-cup @chiliwhore

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Alright, we've had Nuzi headcanons. We've now had Vuzi headcanons... Let's heart it, you're Violent Biting Biscuits headcanons, N x Uzi x V... Or if you'd rather complete the set, eNVy headcanons. I am curious of both. (Your headcannons are just super cute)

Holy hecc, I'm so sorry for answering these asks so late but i'm gonna be honest- I just never think anyone likes my writings or ever reads them XD

okay then lets see- my ViolentBitingBiscuits headcanons- i will put eNVy for the next ask because someone else asked for it too and they wont all fit here lol.

My NUziV headcanons ovo<3 :

[once again these are only the drone versions, the human versions aren't involved / also i may add some 🔞🔞🔞 ones this time lol >:3 also uhhh apologies in advance but this one is long as all hell so....um]

K we know the drill, they are all together- hopefully in the future- even if any of them dies i'm gonna pretend i do not see 🙄 deadass gonna treat this like the jjba fandom- my faves are ALIVE AND WELL SHUT UP ARAKI-

Okay so there's some things that we have already mentioned in the previous headcanons- ill try to not repeat them unless they are necessary but ill also try to treat this as its own post and lightly repeat them real quick too-

N and V started out fighting over Uzi, and Uzi obviously was mostly into N at first- but after a while i guess Vs advances got to her- especially since she was- in a way- so desperate for attention/affection, so it felt a little overwhelming to her but in a good way. they very obviously flirted with her which got them silently treating it as a challenge- and Uzi being Uzi obviously loved the attention she got out of it- opting to let this just... kinda continue lmao. she didn't expect to let it go far enough for her to end up with both of them but here we are XD

We slightly touched this topic before about V but to reiterate- all of them have different levels of trauma that they all deal with and currently V has gone through the worst of it, both having to endure Cyn's torture in her mindspace and also having to watch N get slaughtered in front of her and possibly even having a hand in it. She fears losing people that mean to her so she became avoidant with a difficult personality to guard whatever's left of her. It took a really long time for her to decide to be with the two and to protect them and not run away from her feelings for anyone or anything. but some days its still difficult for her so sometimes N and Uzi have to literally trap her into a wrestling cuddle pile or something to get her to just... exist, without feeling like the whole universe is weighing her down. N and Uzi want her to know they are there to protect HER from those inner demons too.

sometimes the cuddle piles end up with N and V once again trying to get Uzi's attention lmao which ends up with them being a little too horny on main- whoops :) - everything starts with a little nibble here, a small bite there - maybe some pillow fights and climbing over eachother or holding one another down in different positions- aaaand then they wake up a few hours later with Uzi having regrets cuz these two are horny as f-

ANYWAY- N is probably the most patient of the 3, and although he usually never breaks up fights because he trusts the other two to handle their own problems without him needing to mom them, sometimes Uzi and V go a lil too far and he gets very tired of dealing with this kind of behavior. he never blows up at them- but he usually goes away to take a breather- sometimes hanging out with Thad or the other drones- and during this time Uzi and V kinda feel bad- but then they would think of stuff like maybe planning dates or getting food for him, draw stuff on cards and etc- or go around trying to find gifts to make him happy<3 sometimes they might add some extra kisses and unwinding sessions in the end as an extra treat :p N always forgives them obviously, he just needs some guys night out every once in a while or something lmao-

Getting close to Uzi became an excuse for N and V to get closer to eachother too. ironically, it first started with them bantering about who is better at what- but then it turned into unironically flirting and teasing eachother- but after a while they realized their relationship isn't going to ever be the same as what it was back in their old days but its also something completely new, so they become more willing to accept one another and explore their newer dynamic.

they all love being coddled and pampered every now and then. Uzi and V may not outright admit it- but they really do too. so they take turns with who they put in the middle of receiving affection :p

N and V are VERYYYYYY over protective of Uzi. to the point that they wouldn't even let the doctor [for tech repair obviously] check Uzi or touch her in any way when she had a small virus case lol. Khan had to pay the poor doctor extra for that.... deciding to leave his daughter in her room in a cuddle pile of two murderous demons that have glowing cat eyes every time he comes in the room smh.

V and N really like cuddling Uzi and sticking their hands under her clothes. or sometimes just flat out sleeping or cuddling naked. its less of a sexual thing and more so to do with the fact that the two MD's have higher body temperature and a less efficiant body for cooling- since they have a more compact torso and a lot less oil and coolant fluids going through them [since they need to consume it continuously] and having a bunch of working nanobots and nanites shoved into them to turn into weapons/wings/etc- and Uzi- although having the AS- is still very much less in need of cooling due to still having a more efficient body design for a "exoplanetary worker unit", with a still functioning cooling system inside that doesn't necessarily need extra oil to make it work unless under stressful conditions.... even if she probably does have worms and fleshy tentacles inside her now lmao. But either way Uzi's body is still a lot colder than the others so she's usually shared in the middle and at this point Uzi cant even be embarrassed when they slide their hands under her clothes and grab her wherever smh..... although V also does it as a semi possessive thing so there's that pfft. she was especially handsy after that doctor left XDDD.

Yes Uzi has very much in fact ended up at the medical/tech repair unit multiple times because N and V have sometimes ended up being a bit too much for her to handle- and the doctor [a character yall shall meet later] has absolutely had it. She had to literally sit the 3 down, explain to them their body differences via scans and the damages they may cause Uzi and it was basically the robot version of having "the talk" with your child- and Uzi wanted to die there and then.

Uzi sometimes just tells the two to drink blood from her- the first time they wanted to share oil they were scared about accidentally causing Uzi to overheat- but after a few times of trying it, they continued doing it more frequently either by kissing and regurgitating or taking turns to bite Uzi or vice versa. N and V typically don't use one another's oil because they already have high usage as it is, it wouldn't be efficient. admittedly N and V always have concerns when it came to biting Uzi- but somehow they found out Uzi actually enjoys it a little when they do it and well...they get ideas lmao- they just make sure to lick her indents clean with their regenerative saliva to make the AS work as little as possible on Uzi's body.

N really enjoys seeing his partners smooch..... for study purposes ofc lmao- actually he uses his visor to take pictures sometimes- let the man be a little horny in peace smh. and don't worry Uzi and V know all this- they just wanna tease him a little bit :p

Uzi and N usually chit chat while they are in the bed until they fall asleep- but V prefers to just hug Uzi on the side listening to them while they talk until she falls asleep too

they love going around in human based areas with shops and stuff to find books to read together or any other fun human stuff they can find- maybe table top games? lol- V goes for the sports stuff. she kinda wanna try hitting something with a bat...

[okayyyy so tumblr doesn't let me write any more XD i def have more ideas but oh well. also ill save the eNVy for another ask that i have in my inbox so you'll get that soon too :p]

[munariplans]

is there someone else? | n. romanoff

synopsis: you and natasha have been going through a rough patch lately. wanda comes in and shows you everything natasha is unable to offer.

natasha romanoff x reader | slight wanda maximoff x reader

word count: 4.9k words

read part 2 here and part 3 here

warnings: angst, almost(?) cheating, discussions on pregnancy and treatments

masterlist

“nat, you have to be patient!”

“i am patient!” the woman before you screamed, red hair almost matching the redness on her features, as she gripped the edge of the table in your shared bedroom. “i have been patient; for days, weeks, months, i have been patient! but this is not working; whatever tony and bruce have been cooking in that lab, is not working!”

“these things take time; natasha, you cannot—”

“—no, not for me,” again, your wife cut you off; hot tears brimming in her eyes now, “not for me. It’s not a timing issue, it’s my body’s issue. the reverse hysterectomy doesn’t work, and the IVF won’t work either.”

this time, you knew better. reaching out towards her, you ignored her flailing arms half in protest, half in desperation, to push you away. you embraced natasha with all that you had; holding on to her as if it would piece her broken pieces back together. and it was precisely then that she broke down; her body physically melting against your own and her sobs filling the atmosphere of the quiet, bleak room. the room that had once been the sanctuary for the both of you; late night rendezvouses against the knowledge of the other avengers, patch-up sessions where natasha would trust you over any medic to see her scars and wounds and not judge, it was even the safest place for natasha to run into after particularly hard missions. 

the place still looked all the same, with the addition of natasha’s belongings now taking up eighty-percent of your space (in what was essentially a room for one, but the both of you had been reluctant on upgrading to a bigger room in the compound with the memories made in your room). but the feeling was not the same. 

you held her tighter. “it’s only our fourth round, so what if it doesn’t work? we can always try again.”

“what if i’m tired?” she asked, voice too small, too fragile. “what if it doesn’t work again? what if it’s just a me problem? i can’t have children, i can’t give you a baby, and i never will.”

“don’t say that, don’t say things like that.” were the only comforting words you could offer, a little tired, a little irritated, at her repetition of insecurities being voiced after each IVF round the both of you went through. 

you led her to your shared bed, and when natasha tried to reach out for you in the night, she felt you shift closer to the edge of the bed, and away from her. 

–

common side effects of natasha’s fertility treatments included frequent mood swings, this you knew from bruce’s multiple warnings before. he had taken special care to explain it to you, and had even advised you to seek help from clint if necessary. you remembered brushing him off with, “i think i can handle my wife’s emotions just fine.”

if only you knew what you were getting yourself into, you chided yourself now, staring at the back of natasha’s head, sighing. a little pissy and agitated would be a fine understatement. 

you were the assigned leader for the mission; you had thought it was natural that everyone followed your instructions and heed your warnings. not for natasha. 

she had taken a path that was more direct to the enemy’s line of fire, and considering her complete disregard for her own safety, and the fact that it was right around the time that she could be pregnant from a previous round of treatments, it was very clear from your point of view that she was putting herself in imminent danger, and that you had to step in. 

you remembered steve asking why natasha was so far off from her tracker, and it was the moment everything clicked. you knew your wife. you knew precisely why she had taken off her tracker. 

“nat, fall back.” you spoke into your comms, knowing full well she had heard you. there was no response. 

“natasha. ”

two enemies had thrown themselves at you, and in the time taken to take them down, natasha still had not responded. 

you were about to call her for the third time when her comms crackled to you. “kinda—busy—here.”

behind her was the sound of gunfire. screams, cries, the occasional thunk of metal hitting against bones. you thought it was natural that you freaked. 

“natasha, i am this mission’s leader. i am ordering you to fall back, i repeat, fall back!”

“no! i can get the chip faster this way, i’m right in their comms room!”

“agent romanoff, this is not a request. if you don’t fall back now, i am reporting you to fury for insubordination of a direct order.”

she had turned her comms off. the whole team practically heard you scream through their comms, “fuck!”

steve was kind enough to cover for your spot, while you ran headfirst into the comms room to extract natasha. and although her being swarmed and outnumbered by a large margin of enemies was something you expected, it could not compare to the horror that spread through your system at the sight of her pinned down, gasping for air as an enemy tried to wrestle her for the gun she was holding.

he was gone in the next second, as natasha rolled over to catch her breath. she cursed under her breath, preparing for the onslaught of another one tumbling towards her, but when it was you that filled her vision, helping her stand and leaning her onto your body, she wasn’t so sure if it was any better.

“i—told you—” natasha tried to say, but you cut her off. 

“—you disobeyed a direct order, nat. you could’ve gotten killed.”

–

though, back in the quinjet, it felt as if the roles were completely reversed. natasha was berating you in plain view of everyone else, while you could only sit back, and accept the harshest words that were coming out of your wife’s mouth. 

“do you not trust me? how many missions have we been on together, and how many have i parted to take care of things on my own? how many missions have i gotten injured, or killed? i am not some fragile, brittle object, you know! i am—”

“—romanoff, i think she gets your point,” tony tried to cut in, but the glare shot his way was enough to make him shut his mouth faster than he had opened it. 

“—i am capable, and you know i was, of extracting the chip myself! we could’ve avoided so many casualties! and now, look where we are, no chip, building destroyed, and civilians dead. all because you wouldn’t trust me to be able to take care of myself.” natasha jabbed her finger to your shoulder roughly, as if to only rub in your humiliation deeper.

but you only sighed, and stood up. a resigned look on your face, you called peter forward, and as he approached the table nervously, eyes darting between you and natasha, she spotted it. spider-man pulled the chip out of his suit, and handed it to you. 

you showed it off to her, and the rest of the team, and shook your head. “we would’ve gotten the chip regardless. you didn’t have to put yourself in unnecessary danger, and you didn’t have to undermine my leadership.”

you retreated back to the darkness of the quinjet, hearing natasha sigh irritatedly and march right up to the front again. 

–

halfway on the trip back home, natasha finally made the decision of risking seeing you to get herself some water, seeing as the supply was all the way at the back of the jet. she had unbuckled her seatbelt, ordered peter to step in for her, and made the short, but agitating journey to where you were. 

but you were not near your designated seat near the supplies, or anywhere where she thought you would be, as she unscrewed the water bottle and discretely scanned the jet for you. i’m not worried for her, i'm glad she’s not in my line of sight, is all, she tried to convince herself.

but what she saw next, as she was walking past another part of the jet, made her stop in her tracks. you were next to wanda in the makeshift medical bay, your suit unzipped and tied around your waist, fireproofs lifted up to reveal a huge wound that Wanda was tending to. 

you seethed as the scarlet witch tried to draw back the bleeding with her magic, grabbing her hand and chanting, “gentle, gentle, please.”

fuck. natasha couldn’t believe she missed out on the fact that you were injured. she had thought your gait looked a little strange when you were escorting her to safety earlier; and there was blood in her hands as she let go of you, but she had chalked it up to being an enemy’s. you had sat through her beration, her humiliation, and had said nothing to her of your injury.

your eyes were shut, as wanda navigated the stab wound, but her own eyes then drifted up, catching natasha’s. the scarlet witch didn’t budge, looking up at natasha almost in defiance, mostly in resentment. 

a weird feeling settled within the woman, but she shut the curtain to the medical bay, and returned to her seat. 

–

natasha watched yours and wanda’s friendship begin to bloom. It seemed as if the avenger had found a solace within your company, as she naturally gravitated towards you in most social settings; team dinners, tony’s outlandish parties, even during team meetings and discussions. in those moments, natasha held your arm against hers closer, putting extra effort to drape her body as close to yours as possible as a warning. if you noticed (you did), you didn’t say anything to her, merely welcoming her into your open arms and letting her find comfort at the same time. 

however, no matter how much natasha wanted to keep you close and all to herself, her own hormones got the best of her on her worst days. more IVF sessions had passed with little to no success, brimming and breaking hope simultaneously, and natasha was finding it harder and harder to sit through you merely reassuring her that it takes time. on her worst nights, she would find even your mere presence in the room an abhorrent sight, instead shunning you out into the common areas or mentioning that she wanted to sleep alone tonight. 

natasha never missed the heartbreak, or desperation, in your face. perhaps you had been too nonchalant towards her mood swings, perhaps you had paid too little attention to her needs, or perhaps, and you hated yourself for thinking about it, natasha was slowly growing out of love for you. you never missed the mixed emotions on hers, as you so often grabbed your pillows and headed out to sleep on the couch. 

–

one particular night, where a stupid argument about paperwork that you had syphoned off to natasha, preventing her from going out into the field had ensued, and finished, it ended once again with her yelling at you to get out of the room and sleep somewhere else for the night. the both of you were certain, by that point, that the whole compound could hear all of the words exchanged and screams torn. but natasha was headstrong, you never were, and you gave in, as always. 

left with nothing but the bitter taste of natasha accusing you of underestimating her, and the fact that your relationship was on such a thin thread that was affecting the morale of the whole team as well, you exited the room. 

but when natasha tossed, and turned, and tossed again that night, the absence of your body beside hers and only the coolness of the sheets on her skin, the guilt began to settle in. as it always did. she could have been more thoughtful, should have considered your own workload, should have cared more about your feelings too. 

with tears hot in her eyes and a resolution to apologise, she left the room, still in her nightgown, to search for you in the common area. when she did find you, however, you were hunched over said paperwork that you had thought to pass off to her, the stack that she screamed would prevent her from going on her mission the next day.

you had wanted to ensure that she could still go, eventually. 

she called out your name, but when you turned, all the apologies that she had wanted to spill, the invite to return back to your room, were silenced; for wanda’s own head had popped up beside yours, evident that she had been laying on your lap and accompanying you at work. 

she realises that wanda is there for you in all the ways she never was these days. she realises the outlet for you to share about your day, your frustrations and worries, was not her now. no, of course it wasn’t her, why would it be her? not when she picks a fight for every little concern you voice out, not when she dismisses your every attempt to talk to her now. a scarier feeling began to form; natasha realises that wanda may be your home now, not her. 

“yes, nat?” you said, your face devoid of any emotion. 

she could have screamed, could have cried, could have threatened wanda with death and tore her away from you right away. she could even have accused you of doing something you promised you would never do to her when you got together; but she didn’t. natasha wanted to trust you, and she didn’t want her own insecurities to get the best of her, and the worst of you, again. 

instead, all she did was nod towards wanda, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. “n-nothing. come back to our room when you’re done with that. the bed’s too cold.”

–

it was in the way wanda voluntarily paired herself up with you for missions. the way you could conveniently shove her out of the way of raining bullets, putting yourself in the line of fire for her without a second thought. 

the way you were the first person wanda looks for at the end of said missions. the way you allow wanda to ease her worries by laying her head against your shoulder afterwards. 

the way wanda hugs you just a little too tight, too long, right after the team worries of your cut-off comms from a particularly hard mission. 

natasha hates herself for noticing all of it. 

–

tony called out your name to the common area one night, despite you and natasha agreeing to have an early night-in for a round of doctor’s visits the next day. she was a little annoyed at you for being so ready to heed his request, but followed you anyway, hoping it would be quick. 

“as you can see,” tony spread his arms, gesturing around the room to the other avengers, “your best friend isn’t around. she’s been gone from us for exactly two nights in a row now, and we want to know why.”

his game show host-style of speaking ticked you off, but you swallowed it down in favour of everyone else around, and smiled politely at him. he continued, “rogers says it’s her time of the month, which, might be true, is totally boring and not helpful to this discussion at all. danvers says she’s probably just sick of our shit, which, might also be true, but is being a debby downer and i do not stand for it. with the amount of vomiting vision hears from his room, he says it’s because i gave her food poisoning when I tried to cook dinner on monday, which is the least likely option there is, so i’m disregarding it. what do you say, huh?”

“she told me she has a stomach flu.”

this time, thor chuckled from the corner of the room. grinning, he sneaked in with, “classic pregnancy symptoms, i say. natasha’s been the one trying for a child, but have you accidentally knocked the wrong woman up, kid?”

he didn’t need your furious glare and natasha’s choked sob behind you to know he had voiced out every insecurity of hers so perfectly, as the black widow practically stormed straight back to your room, with you hot on her heels, trying desperately to call out her name. 

–

“it was just a joke, nat, and he knew it! you and i know it!”

“was it really?” natasha’s eyes were red and raw, throat hoarse from screaming, “was it really a joke to you? or have you really gone and fucked her and gotten her pregnant?!”

“that’s impossible and you know it!” you retorted, taking one step closer. natasha took one step back. your hands had raised, trying to reach out for her to see reason, but seeing her retreat only sent a knife straight to your heart, and you threw them up in the air, giving up. “nat, i—i—wanda’s a friend. that is all she is, all she will ever be. i don’t understand why—”

“—do your friends touch you like I do? do your friends get to lie their head on your shoulder, hug you goodbye and welcome home after every mission, be the outlet for your frustrations and worries, your celebrations and joy? do your friends matter more than I do?” she cut you off, shoving you against the wall this time. 

you took the opportunity to grab her wrists, tilting your head so you were directly at her eye level. “natasha.”

she refused to meet your eyes. “natasha. look at me.”

she shook her head, refusing to give in, refusing to let you see the insecurity, heartbreak, and jealousy in her green eyes, now dull and wearier than the emerald they once were. “fuck you.”

“natasha, what is going on with us?” you asked sincerely then, begging her to see reason, to see you. “we fight everyday, we barely spend any time together, and you don’t even bother trying to listen to me. to help me help you see reason. you hate me on most days, you despise what i am, what i do, and i don’t know how to fix this. have i become so broken, so unlovable, that you cannot even stand to be in the same room as me anymore?”

natasha slowly lifted her gaze, blinking away the tears. “you don’t seem to mind.”

“because I don’t want to ruin whatever we have left!” you shouted, exasperated. “i don’t want to lose whatever shred of love my wife has left for me, i don’t want to make things worse, and i don’t want to make you feel worse. tell me, is it the baby? is us trying for a baby too much for you, nat? is this not something you want anymore? because ever since we’ve started trying—”

“—it’s not the baby, it’s me,” natasha freed her wrists from you, turning away. “it’s me, and my inability to be a wife, a proper wife, to you. fuck, i can’t even give you one thing every married couple wishes for, a fucking child, and now you have to run off to an actual woman who can. i’m a fucking failure, that’s what i am.”

“nat, not every couple wants—not every couple needs—a child. i’m perfectly happy with—”

“—are you really? are you really perfectly happy with the way things are? do you not wish for more, something I can’t give? someone who can understand you, love you, better than I can?”

you knew where this was going, and you rubbed your forehead in frustration. “what are you getting at, natasha?”

“don’t tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you.” 

you sighed. “i honestly don’t.”

“of course you don’t!” natasha’s voice broke, uttering the next words, “but I do. because she looks at you the way i look at you. the way i wished you looked at me.” 

“nat, don’t do this. don’t do this to yourself, and don’t do this to us. i can assure you wanda is…is…” you trailed off, not believing the incredulity of it all. 

“is what?” natasha hoped with all of her heart you could finish the sentence. “is what…? tell me. younger? better? easier to love, than i am?” 

but you could only shake your head once more, furrowing your eyebrows. “you know what, nat? i give up. i truly give up. if you can’t get over yourself and your own insecurities, even though we are married, even if you knew i only love you, i cannot help you. i need a break…we need a break.” 

you didn’t tell her for how long, you didn’t tell her what you were going to do, or what she could do to fix things. you merely brushed past her body folding in on itself in anguish and absolute heartbreak, and packed your things. that night, you had left her all to herself, and she had only felt loneliness like this once. 

suddenly, natasha was twelve again, all alone in the red room to fend for herself. she had lost her parents, she had lost yelena, and now, she had lost you too.

–

wanda was browsing through the menu, seated in front of you at the hotel balcony, celebrating the end of another successful mission together. it was a few weeks after the incident with natasha, and with no end goal or date in sight of when you were returning to her arms, you had resigned yourself to stick to wanda, much to the scarlet witch’s pleasure, too. 

“an aperol spritz or a negroni?” she had asked, but you were busy staring right at her. 

wanda’s eyes were blue, wide and ethereal. Her hair was a lighter colour than natasha’s, hands softer as they wrapped around yours, hugs tighter. 

natasha was all that you had ever known, and loved. you have been together for so long, you find it hard to believe that what you feel for wanda could ever be real. 

she was kind, patient and understanding; wanda never complained, never screamed or raised her voice at you. you remembered when the feeling began; the very night where natasha had practically banished you from your room, and her footsteps came pattering down to the common area where you were. wanda had just returned from a mission with thor and sam, but still insisted on staying up with you. as her head laid on your lap that night, her big, blue eyes staring up at yours, you felt something stir in your stomach; a feeling that you hadn’t felt in a long while with natasha. butterflies anew. 

you became concerned, protective, of wanda during missions. always worrying if she had eaten before a gruelling day, taking extra patience in training her for combat practice, you began wondering if you had really looked at her as just a friend all this while. when wanda and natasha both came home with a bullet graze on their arms on one mission, you found yourself worrying for wanda almost as much as you did for your wife. 

perhaps that was the moment you knew, and so did natasha. 

–

wanda called out your name lovingly, half-laughing as you stared into blank space yet again, dissociating as she stepped out of the shower. 

“you still upset that I chose the negroni?” she teased, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

getting up to change, you tried hard not to hyper-focus on the beads of water dripping down wanda’s body, as she bent down to find a spare change of fresh clothing. “of course. criminal, that you order everything but an aperol spritz in Italy, of all places.”

you found the t-shirt that she had been looking for, and whistled for her attention. but right as the woman stepped forward to take it off of you, you tugged it under her grip, side-stepping further into the room.

“apologise, for the spritz, for me, and everyone else in italy.”

wanda shot you an incredulous look, before your own serious resolve broke too, and the both of you ended up laughing, nearly tumbling forwards towards each other.  somewhere along the line, wanda decided to take the opportunity to try to take the shirt, but your reflexes kicked in, and right as she reached forwards, you went for her legs; throwing her onto the bed to dodge her attack. 

giggling, still, wanda tried to sit up as you pinned her down. but the woman managed to take one of your own, as she grabbed your hand, and with one swipe, had your wedding band in her left hand, taunting it over you. 

“got something of yours, too,” she grinned, handing out her other hand for an exchange, “now give me my shirt.”

your eyes widened at the sight before you then. wanda, dressed only in a towel that was barely hiding anything from view, the compromising position you were in, the wedding band she had taken off of you at that moment. 

heart to heart, yours beating as fast as hers, wanda finally noticed too. slowly, but surely, her red magic came up to envelop the both of you, the warmth in them flowing through your senses, making your head fuzzy and lightheaded. 

she leaned up, mouth just inches from yours, hoping, begging, for you to close the distance. her towel had almost fallen off her body then, arms around your neck. if you dared look down, nothing would be hidden from view. 

“come on,” she murmured against your lips. 

you hesitated, the grip on her waist suddenly disappearing. “i…no.”

wanda pouted, you remembered shaking your head. “i’m married, wanda.”

“please.”

you snatched back your ring this time, throwing the t-shirt onto her body and looking away just as quickly. opening the door to the balcony, you found it hard to catch your breath. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”

–

though, that night, watching her sleeping figure sprawled out on the shared king bed, you took another swig of the gin leftover from the bar, wondering if you had made the right choice. 

the opportunity had presented itself, and yet you didn’t take it. 

natasha had left a text earlier on your phone, and you cursed when you remembered what date it was. it was almost an asshole move to simply text her back ‘happy anniversary to us’ too, when she had sent a long paragraph apologising for what she had done, and begged you to come back to celebrate your five-year wedding anniversary together. 

–

sleeping on the couch, and as far away from wanda as possible, you felt your phone vibrate in the middle of the night. 

getting up groggily, you had almost thrown it back to where it was, until another text came in, and another. they were from Natasha. 

i have to tell you something. you had texted her back with a question mark, but her only reply had been that she refused to tell you over text, and that you would only know when you got back. 

considering the state of your relationship with her, and the way you had practically ruined whatever hope of rekindling her affection for you with the anniversary text, you almost knew what it would be already. she would be taking the first step in ending your relationship, and marriage. 

looking back at wanda’s sleeping form then, you selfishly thought again if you should have proceeded with the kiss.

–

natasha was already waiting with the other avengers when your quinjet landed. wanda had gotten off first, looking back at you awkwardly, reaching her hand out to help you disembark, after an injury to your right rib. you smiled at her, but rejected her help. 

natasha strode towards you in two cool, calculated steps. you offered her a half-smile, but her face was determined, and hopeful. her arms were around your waist in the next second, and for the first time in the last year or so, the black widow tipped you over, pressing her lips against yours in the most passionate, loving kiss. In front of everyone, in front of fury, in front of wanda, natasha claimed you as hers. 

“what—” before you could finish your question, she was already dragging you to your shared room, leaving you even more confused than before. perhaps it was a goodbye kiss, perhaps natasha had felt the need to claim you one last time before parting ways, perhaps she had simply missed you over the time you were gone. the last one seemed most impossible. 

“sit.” she had gestured, forcing you on the bed. “close your eyes.”

you groaned, the injury on your ribs resurfacing. “nat, i’m really tired, the mission was a success but my side is—”

“please,” natasha begged this time, “please.”

you relented, and closed your eyes anyway, hoping whatever this was, would be over soon and that you could have a full night of uninterrupted sleep for once.

natasha rummaged for something in her bag, and opened your palm up. three small, plastic sticks were placed in them, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“open your eyes.” 

your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach when you saw what they were. time came to a standstill, the glaringly obvious image before you the prophecy for your past, present and future. three pregnancy tests, all positive. 

you finally looked back up at natasha, her eyes brimming with tears of joy and hope. her arms encircled your neck again then, tears fresh on your shoulder. 

“i’m pregnant,” she murmured into your skin, as if it would solve everything. as if it was the answer to all of your problems together. 

a/n: who's side are you on?

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Messed Up - T.Nott

Summary - Theo cheats and doesn't realize how bad he messed up until it's too late.

Pairings - former Theo x Reader, Draco x Reader

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/N, profanity, cheating, jealousy,

Based on a request by an anon

Author's Note - I'm slowly but surely working through all of my requests, I only have 4 more to complete before I get back to working on my Theo series and my Snape series.

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

She had an idea that he had been cheating but it wasn’t confirmed until she ended up catching him in the act. It was late, she had been stuck in the library all day studying, finally able to go back to her dorm and sleep. Except she hadn’t expected to find her boyfriend in bed with her best friend. She was shocked, her jaw dropping, tears springing in her eyes, her heart in her stomach. 

“Theo?” She called his name tearfully.

The two stopped and turned to look at her, Theo’s face full of regret, the only regret he felt was getting caught. Her best friend however, had started to cry.

“Y/N! I’m so sorry! You knew I liked him before you guys got together!” She cried.

“Get out, both of you.”

“Let’s talk about this, we can work through this. I love you!” Theo begged.

“You love me but you fuck my best friend! Get the fuck out of here before I kill you!” Y/N yelled at him, “And you, Pansy, you better go with him because I won’t be as soft as I will be on him.” With her last statement the two of them scrambled to get up and rush to the boys dorms. Only then did she feel the betrayal and hurt caused by two of the people she trusted the most.

The next day it was obvious to the other students as to what happened, her eyes were red and puffy and Theo and Pansy were together like nothing had ever happened. All of their mutual friends backed her and inevitably stopped talking to Pansy and Theo.

Her greatest comfort was Draco, he was there for her every step of the way, her good days and especially her bad. She was afraid to trust people after the incident, but she always felt like she could trust Draco. Maybe it was the fact that they grew up together or maybe it was the fact that he could show her the true Draco and not the facade that he put up.

As the two grew closer and closer, Theo got angrier and angrier. He was snapping at everybody, especially Pansy. Not only had he lost the girl that loved him wholeheartedly but he lost all of his friends. All for a quick fuck, the same one he lost everything to.

“What is going on with you? You’re acting like a bloody asshole,” Pansy yelled at him after he snapped at her during dinner one night. All of the chatter in the great hall ceased, all eyes on them.

“You’re a bitch, that’s why! I had everything until I fucked you! I had a girl that loved me and I had friends that cared about me! Now I don’t have that, all because of you!” Theo screamed back. Before Pansy could retaliate, Snape was standing behind the pair of them.

“Before you two continue your lovers quarrel, 20 points will be taken from both of you and a week's detention with me. I suggest you continue this fight elsewhere,” Snape droned to them. 

“Stay away from me Pansy, I mean it. You fucked up my life,” Theo said before storming off to his room. Pansy chased after him but she wasn’t fast enough, her legs working overtime to catch up with him.

In the Great Hall, Dumbledore was quick to restore the chatty environment, everyone gossiping about what they had just witnessed. It had only been 2 months and it was obvious to everybody that it was a lustful relationship rather than one of love.

“I knew that wasn’t gonna last long,” Y/N giggled under her breath. Her comment made Draco chuckle.

“He cared more about getting laid than the wonderful girl he had before,” Draco added, which made her face get hot.

“Oh shut up, I’m not a wonderful person.”

“You are though, but good try.”

The next day it had seemed everyone had forgotten about the lovers quarrel. The new talk of the castle was the new couple, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N. Theo was furious when he first saw them but then he noticed how happy she looked. She wore a bright smile, one he had never seen before and her eyes were shining brighter than ever. She was practically glowing and there he was sulking over what he had lost. Only then did he realize that he had greatly messed up and there was no chance to fix it anymore.

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter nine

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 11.1k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: blowjobs 😎; canon-compliant, non-graphic mentions of SA 😔 (Astarion 😭)

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

“Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to.” The bite in his words is softened by their meaning, his swallow audible as he stares down at her, a veiled vulnerability shining in his eyes as they run over the planes of her face.

𝒶/𝓃: hello!!!!! apologies it took me so long to get this chapter completed. But it is finally done and I very much hope you enjoy it. Here's to chapter 10 taking me half the time to write as this one did. please let me know your thoughts down in the comments and I appreciate you all!!!

read on ao3 | masterlist

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Rin blocks out the sound of Astarion, positively incensed about absolutely nothing of consequence, as he follows her around the grounds of the Last Light Inn, complaining rather loudly for her tastes.

She sighs as she trudges down one of the dirt paths leading away from the inn and back towards their camp, the area thankfully empty as he strides just behind her at a clipped pace. 

“I stopped listening about five minutes ago, Astarion, when you decided to keep saying the same thing over and over again,” Rin says, annoyance sneaking into her words as she cuts a look back towards the angry vampire somehow managing to stomp elegantly after her.

“I’ll stop saying it over and over again when you realize that I am right.”

Gods, he could be so irritating. 

While their encounter with Ketheric Thorm went surprisingly well and no one dared to second guess them in their ruse of pretending to be True Souls, Rin still felt somewhat unmoored by it all. The plot was thickening with a quickness and intensity she didn’t care for; something that was only growing more and more sinister brewing just beneath the surface, and she isn’t looking forward to figuring out whatever that something might be.

There’s a very large part of her the longs to run—to simply disappear into the darkness and never return; to sprint away from all of this madness, the constant battles, the sharp malice of it all.

Her life may not have accumulated to very much back in Baldur’s Gate—little money, the occasional performance at a shitty tavern, the more-than-occasional odd job for the Guild—but at the very least it was predicable in its unpredictability. 

Sure, she didn’t always have the money that she quite desperately needed, but she always knew to expect the possibility of not having it. She always knew how to sweet talk her way into getting more time to pay her debts, how to charm the baker into giving her an extra roll or two, or when times were particularly tough, how to steal what she needed to without even getting caught (most of the time). 

They were skills she had honed over a lifetime of living on the streets and in the murky shadows of the Lower City, things that she had worked hard to perfect to the best of her ability in order to survive. If there was one thing Rin knew, it was how to work to the system.

Thirty-four years in and she’s yet to meet a magistrate while draped in chains, so she must be doing something right.

But the only thing she can dare to expect these days is the unexpected. 

And Rin is not a fan of unexpected things—unless said things happen to be a nice bottle of wine or a fancy necklace; though as far as she can remember, no one has ever gifted her much of anything.

“What exactly did you want me to do, Astarion?”

“We should have stayed longer,” he hisses towards her, eyes narrowed and lip curled menacingly. “There was more information we could have dug out. There were merchants we could have bought more weapons and potions from. There were plenty of things we could have done, and yet you had us running away scared. You even let those goblins fight for their lives instead of just killing them outright. Absolutely ridiculous.”

Clearly, she doesn’t see the issue the same as Astarion, because she couldn’t find a single problem with the plan. It was the sane, normal thing to do after such a covert operation. They were a rag-tag group of adventurers, not spies.

They had maintained their cover, eventually killed the goblins, talked to the decidedly awful Disciple Z’rell, and then got the hells out of there as fast as they could.

The memory of Z’rell searching through her mind draws a minute shiver to her form, the sensation of another tadpole clawing through her brain with a wave of energy and touching on the darker things she keeps hidden in the depths of her thoughts—old memories that were purposely forgotten, hopes that she had long given up on having, disappointments that had been left to languish in the corners like dusty cobwebs—had been very unwelcome, to say the least.

She hadn’t been expecting to have to defend herself against Z’rell’s invasion, and she hated having to use her desire for Astarion as a distraction, even it if had worked. 

It had left her feeling as though she had been stripped bare, like some raw part of her had been left exposed to salt.

She didn’t dare to show Z’rell any of the truly illicit memories, for the half-orc certainly didn’t deserve to see Astarion in such a way and Rin was not about to put his body on display for her, even within the relative safety of her own mind or for the sake of the mission. 

Thankfully, she had plenty of other memories to use to showcase her more…amorous feelings about him.

The memory of him crowding her up against a cave wall, the feeling of his lips on her neck as he kissed it seconds before biting in, his lips claiming hers for the first time in the forest clearing what feels like forever ago, his fingers removing her armor piece by piece in the Underdark as heat had begun to curl in her belly…she could, theoretically, probably go on for forever.  

Rin breathes out a frustrated breath, attempting to steady herself as she turns around to face Astarion with little thought, and he pulls up short to avoid running into her, stopping right before they collide.

“Here’s the thing. You are not in charge because you did not want to be, and so now I am. And as such, I made a decision to leave, and so we did. If you don’t like it, Astarion, then by all means, go march your way back to Moonrise and have a look around, if you’d like.” 

Rin is careful to annunciate her every word as her finger pokes in the center of his chest, eyes steely as she glares up at him. 

“But,” she continues, “in the event that you decide to not trot off back to that hellish place, can you please tell me how to possibly shut you up now? Because as much as I honor and appreciate your opinion, I am tiring of hearing it.”

Astarion casts a slow look down at the finger resting innocuously against him before dragging his gaze back up to hers, brow raised alongside the casual arrogance painted on his face.

Rin knows she couldn’t look any less threatening—camp clothes slightly wrinkled from where she had pulled them on hurriedly after bathing, her hair still slightly damp, and at least a full head shorter than Astarion.

Anger has never been her strong suit, she’s far better at using the written word as a weapon than she is at yelling, and she realizes she probably has all the intimidation of a hissing cat rather than something terrifyingly ferocious and beautiful.

At the very least, the letter she writes him later tonight will be properly vicious—or at least her version of it. She’s not sure she’s capable of the raw rage of someone like Karlach or the steel-sharpened vitriol of Lae’zel, but she can at least use several choice adjectives to describe him that she has no doubt will irritate him. 

“Well, if you don’t want to hear it then you shouldn’t make stupid decisions,” Astarion says through gritted teeth, claret eyes glaring down at her. “and if you want to shut me up, you’re going to have to make me.”

“‘Make you’? How old are you, ten?” She presses her finger into his chest harder as her patience thins, biting down on her lip hard in failed attempt to take a calming breath.

Her heart is still pounding in her chest even after a relatively relaxing bath, and Astarion yelling at her about it does not help one bit. She aches to wipe the smirk off his lips as her eyes dart down to them, the way they curve up into a maddening off-kilter smile one that burns itself into her memory.

The traitorous part of her mind, the one that won’t disappear no matter how hard she tries to banish it and instead only serves to grow stronger as if to spite her, taunts her to kiss him if she really wants to shut him up. 

No better way to rid his mouth of that self-righteous smirk than by giving his lips something better to do instead, after all.

She had thought after that night, the one where he had so coldly thrown her out while still in the haze of their shared pleasure, that whatever it was that had been growing between them would be no more. It had seemed, at the time at least, that he wanted nothing more to do with her.

Instead, Astarion had shown up every night since at her tent. 

And every single night, he’d ruined her.

It had become their new routine, apparently. Every night they start by the fire as they always do—talking, drinking, divulging secrets in one another; and then afterwards, he follows her back to her tent, sets her alight with his touch, only to leave when he’s done with her.

They make something that Rin thinks must be akin to love; although she’s never really made love with anyone else before, so what does she know?

Perhaps he simply fucks everyone like the way he does her.  

The Traitor in her mind is quick to point out the falsehood that statement, reminding her that he didn’t lay with her at first like he does now. At first, there had been no mistaking what they were doing—it was sex, pure and simple, between two people indulging in a mutual curiosity and need. 

Looking back, it feels like Astarion had barely even enjoyed their first few liaisons together, his actions mostly halfhearted and his mind barely present. 

Now, though, there’s a marked difference in the press of lips, each and every one meaningful and every caress upon her skin intentional during the house they spend lost in one another.

She could no longer call it just sex, at least by her standards.

Rin didn’t know what to think. 

And how could she know, when he comes to her and sends her into complete bliss with a touch that only seems to grow more reverent with every passing night, the look in his eyes when they twine together that of a fire only growing as if being fed by more and more fuel.

But no matter how rough or how gentle he handles her—his touch somehow both softer and more intense with each night that passes, no matter how passionate or sweet the presses of his lips are against hers are as they find their completion together—he never stays.

Astarion’s interests, it seemed, were only in her physical attributes.

She shouldn’t be surprised, in the end. She was nothing more than a half-rate bard whose skills amounted to little of importance, so she can’t quite blame him for not being interested in the rest of her.

She was no sagely wizard like Gale nor a noble warlock like Wyll. She patroned no cause like Shadowheart or Lae’zel, no matter how questionable Rin finds their worship and ideals. 

She has no greater calling, no reason to be; neither a paragon of good nor an avatar of evil. 

She simply exists, day to day, in whatever way she can make it through. 

Perhaps if she were someone greater, someone of skill or importance, someone of knowledge; he would want her for more than just nights of shared passion.

The thought rankles something in her, though it shouldn’t. People like her weren’t meant for much more, and she’s never done anything to be worthy of things like tenderness, affection, or love.

If she were, then surely everyone else wouldn’t have left her. She wouldn’t have been abandoned if she’d been worth it.

Rin has nothing more to offer anyone but simply who she is—and who she is has never, ever been enough for anyone to ever take a chance on.

She’ll just have to make do with what she gets when it comes to Astarion, though he’ll no doubt leave her like all the rest when he’s had his fill of her.

But in the meantime, she’d rather have him in whatever way she can—in whatever way he will let her have him—than not get have him at all. 

And so she gives in to that traitorous part of her brain, the one still whispering of all the ways she can distract him, of the limited chances she has to revel in his closeness, and makes her move.

“You know what, fine. You want me to shut you up? I’d love the honor.”

Rin flattens her hand against his chest and pushes before taking a step forward into his space. Astarion glances down at her hand once before gracing her with a very skeptically raised brow.

Slowly, Rin steps forward again and Astarion steps back; one step followed by another and then another as they walk backwards until his back hits the stone of the wall behind them, dirt and chipped rock crumbling onto the ground next to them.

“Many have tried, most have failed.” He’s devastatingly handsome with such a devious smile, and she almost hates the way it makes anticipation startle to life in her chest. Almost.

Rin keeps her hand where it is as a small smirk of her own forms on her lips. “Most have not been me.”

“Do tell, little bard, what is to be your perfect strategy, hm?” He’s teasing and taunting her again as his head leans down towards hers, eyes narrowed in challenge.

She’s not quire sure what sparks the idea in her head; but she blames it on her ever-evolving and only growing adoration of him—slightly painful to admit, despite being very, very true. 

Regardless of whatever the reason is, she takes her chance.

No time like the present, they say.  

“Maybe I don’t need to shut you up so much as I want to hear you say something else instead,” And for the first time, it’s her own register that drops, words hushed as her cheeks flush despite herself. 

Astarion is quick to catch on, a knowing glint sparking to life in his eyes as he gleans something in her own gaze. In an instant, Rin feels an arm come to circle around her waist, dragging her closer to him until they’re flush together.

“And what is it that you have in mind, darling?” Her skin tingles where his hand rests upon her lower back, thumb brushing teasing strokes that send her mind swirling with a rush of delight at his touch.

Rin runs her hand up, drawing it across the expanse of his chest with enough pressure to make sure that he can feel the drag of it until it finds its home around his neck, her fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

She stays silent in the wake of his query, answering with only an innocent quirk of her lips before giving the path they’re standing on a quick, covert glance. She can see or hear no other being near them and, so long as they’re quick about it, she doubts anyone else will be coming this way. 

Hopefully.

“I must say, I’m intrigued. Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?”

“I guess it depends on what you think I plan to do.” She flicks her gaze back to his.

“I think that you want to—” Astarion’s voice cuts off and the smirk falls from his lips as Rin slides the hand from around his neck down his front and she lowers with it.

Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes as her knees hit the dusty earth below her with a soft thump and she runs her hands up and down his thighs in teasing passes, thumbs pressing into the muscles of them intently.

He looks momentarily bewildered at the sight of her before him, expression going slack as his brows knit in surprise. Clearly, of all the things he expected of her, dropping to her knees on a decently well-trodden pathway wasn’t one of them.

For all the times he’s tasted her, Astarion’s yet to give her the same opportunity and she has plans to fix such a terrible discrepancy. He has no idea how long she’s waited to worship him like this—to touch and taste and learn his body as well as he’s studied her own.

She wishes that she had more time to make such an important scholarly pursuit, and the privacy of one of their tents would be vastly preferable, but Rin was nothing if not adaptable.

“Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

“Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to.” The bite in his words is softened by their meaning, his swallow audible as he stares down at her, a veiled vulnerability shining in his eyes as they run over the planes of her face.

He’s flustered, and it’s an absolute wonder to see.

Her cheeks flush and her heart swells, despite that fact that she is technically still mad at him. Or at least she’s supposed to be. 

She can’t feel her agitation quite as keenly as she could a few minutes ago.

Rin had lowered herself onto her knees for only a few people in her lifetime, the act one she couldn’t say she had the most practice at. Men were always so typical, shoving themselves into her mouth without care until they reached their end; it was no wonder she rarely offered herself up in such a manner. 

But, Astarion—Astarion she knows will be different.

“I can’t promise to be the best you’ve ever had, but—”

“Don’t sell yourself so short.” Astarion cuts her off, his hand coming down to trace her jaw lightly as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes.

Rin leans her head slightly into his hand as it runs along the line of her face, turning slightly to press her lips against his fingers. “Is this alright, then? Will you let me suck your cock?” 

Astarion’s thumb brushes along the plush of her lower lip, and she takes the opportunity to open her mouth and nip at it playfully.

“Do you think you can take it, darling?” His eyes darken as her lips encircle the tip of his finger and she sucks, Rin relishing the almost imperceptible intake of his breath.

“I guess we’ll just have to see what I can handle.” 

“Well. By all means, then. Have at it,” Astarion says, eyebrows raising in smug challenge.

At his permission Rin’s hands jump to life, fingertips tracing up his covered thighs to hook into the waistband of his pants. She keeps her eyes on his as she slowly pulls them down, revealing his hardening length still hidden behind his underwear. 

She leans in to press kisses to the defined line of muscles along his hips, nosing his shirt out of the way as she runs her lips over the indentations of each and every one of them as she slowly traces her way down, moving ever closer to where his member twitches with every press of her lips.  

“I must say, our pretty little leader on her knees is quite a sight.” The words are meant to be easy, teasing; but the tightness in his voice belies any ease, his hips jumping as she traces her lips over the silhouette of him through his underwear.

Astarion chokes back a moan at the feeling and she smiles up at him, fingers playing at the edge of the final barrier between them before she begins to pull. Her fingers find his length once she’s freed it from his underwear, quick to run them down the velvet softness of his shaft as the deep green of her gaze meets the darkened ruby of his own once more.

“Only for you, Astarion.” Rin cuts off anything further he could have to say by leaning her head forward to press a searing kiss to the side of his erection before tracing her lips over his length.   

The first touch of her mouth against his cock has him exhaling sharply, one of the hands at his side coming up reflexively to rest atop top her head, fingers sliding through her curls as his hips jump.

She wastes no time as she licks a line across his slit, the heady saltiness of him hitting her tongue as she brings a hand up to grip him at the base, pumping him gently in her palm.    

“Does it feel good like this?” Rin swirls her tongue around the head of him, savoring her first real taste of his essence. “You’ll have to let me know how you like it, Astarion.”

His hand curls in her hair, brushing stray locks back from her face as he watches her mouth move along his length, tongue slicking across a vein before she finally wraps her lips around him.

“I assure you, you’re already doing a very, very good job.” He sags back against the crumbling stone facade of the wall as Rin takes him deeper into the warmth of her mouth, her hand pumping at the base of him as her lips work the rest that she doesn’t yet fit inside.

His praise sends a trail of heat straight to the core of her, pleasure of her own ebbing deep in her stomach as her thighs rub together. She leaves his length for no more than a second, adjusting her position on her knees before pressing more kisses to the side of him. “And this?” 

Astarion moans as her lips envelop him once more, sucking at his cock with hollowed cheeks as she takes him in, her hand moving in time with her mouth as she begins to bob her head.

“Decidedly perfect technique,” He’s practically breathless as he speaks, eyes closing as his head falls back against the wall behind him with a dull thud.

His moans echo off the ancient stone as she sucks and licks and kisses his cock, pouring every ounce of her wayward affection for him into this moment.

Astarion, she’s learned, doesn’t give up his iron-clad self control very easily; and Rin’s not going to let herself think about what it means that he trusts her enough to let her take care of him, even if it’s only like this.

It’s intoxicating to have him so utterly undone as she alternates her ministrations, each and every one only serving to push him further and further to the brink as she laves at his length, pleasure flitting openly across his handsome face.

She should tell him to be quieter, but she doesn’t have it in her to halt those beautiful moans and breathy gasps leaving his mouth, not when she revels in the sound of them far too much.

Rin pops off him to take a breath, tongue running around the crown of him before she renews her attentions, swallowing him down deeper and taking as much of him as she can fit into her mouth.

Dots of crystalline tears settle on her lashes as the head of him brushes against the back of her throat, but the ragged moan he releases is more than worth it, another bolt of heat surging down to the place between her legs.

She’s lucky she cares nothing for her reputation, because being found on her knees in front of her most dubious companion with his cock shoved deep down her throat would most certainly ruin it. 

“Such pretty noises you make, Astarion,” She hums as she pops off his cock, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his length as she breathes in another lungful of air. “Please don’t stop making them.”

The hands in her hair tighten as her mouth envelops the head of his length again and he whines, Rin once again savoring the tang of him as she sucks before taking him back into her mouth, deep again as he slides against her tongue.

“Fuck, darling—” She breaths through her nose as his thighs quiver, making sure to keep her mouth moving back and forth on his cock. “Don’t stop. Rin, sweetheart, I’m going to—”

Sweetheart. It was a new one from him, one that she finds that she likes. 

Quite a lot. 

He breaks off as Rin hollows her cheeks once more around him just as his cock hits the back of her throat again, stray tears breaking free to run down her cheeks and she can barely breathe with him like this in her mouth but can’t seem to find it in her to care. 

The thrill of finally being able to taste him and to bring him to the edge of pleasure is one she knows she would do anything to feel again, the weight of his cock nothing short of exquisite in her mouth.

She gives him a final suck and Astarion comes down her throat with a wanton moan, hips bucking as his brows crease and he cries out his completion, the sounds of his ecstasy nothing short of beautiful as they ring off the rock and stone and dirt around them.

Rin swallows his come down as his body quivers and his hips rut into her, the hands in her hair tightening into a vice grip as he rides her mouth. 

He tastes as perfect as she knew he would as words fall from his lips in a torrent—a chorus of praise, moans, and the occasional elvish word or phrase she doesn’t understand all flowing freely from his lips.

Rin lets him ride out his orgasm however long he pleases, a deep satisfaction coursing through her as she watches the pleasure painted across his features until his hips begin to slow and air he doesn’t need finally begins to return to his lungs.

“Dear Gods—” Astarion groans as his eyes open as the hands in her hair loosen  and he stares down at her, one of them migrating down from her curls to her cheeks, softly brushing away the tears that have tracked down the planes of her face.

She pulls off his softening cock slowly, taking in a much needed breath of air.

“Do you still question my decision making skills?” Rin licks off a stray drop of his come from her bottom lip before she smiles.

“Absolutely; and if this is the treatment I’m going to get every time I do, then I think I’ll have to disagree with you more often.” Astarion’s still catching his breath as he replies, but it doesn’t stop a wolfish grin from spreading across his face.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Astarion.” Rin gently tucks him back into his pants, patting his hip with a smirk before she rises back up to her full height, knees aching slightly with the motion. “If I did that every time we had a disagreement, I’m not sure I would have much time to do anything else.”

Astarion has an arm wrapped back around her waist in a mere moment and she’s pulled close again, the one hand still in her hair curving around the back of her head to tilt her face up to his own.

“Then maybe you should try to be less difficult, dearest.” His hand runs down, caressing the curve of her bottom before sweeping back up and around to hover at the front of her pants.

His touch sends a spark of heat down to her neglected arousal, Rin taking a steadying breath as she braces her hands on his chest. “If I were less difficult, you would be bored.”

Astarion chuckles as his fingertips dip below her waistband, more heat curling deep in her core as they quickly slip beneath the band of her underwear, intent to find the wetness that has settled between her thighs.

He wastes no time gliding them through her folds, running them up and down her center as Rin gasps, Astarion’s eyes intent on hers as he slicks his fingers with her arousal before finding her entrance and sinking two of them inside her with ease.

“I see I wasn’t the only one enjoying myself,” Astarion groans at the evidence of her own lust he finds waiting, pushing his fingers deeper.

“Far from it, Astarion.” She moans as her head falls forward onto his shoulder, eyes drifting shut as he curls them once, twice; her limbs tightening as he seats them fully inside her.

It would be so easy to let Astarion bring her to brink and push her over into euphoria, no doubt only a few quirks of his fingers and she’d be gone, clinging to him with every ounce of her strength as he makes her come. 

But she doesn’t want it to be about her. Not right now. 

Despite the breath that rushes free and the soft whine she lets out as Astarion pumps the fingers he has buried in her, the desire almost painfully hot in her core; Rin reaches one of her hands down to grasp his wrist, pulling his hand away from where she wants him most.

She’ll take care of herself later. She certainly has plenty of material to think about.

Astarion sends her a questioning look as he slips his fingers out of her, Rin’s hand still on his as she guides him out of her leggings. “Is there a problem, sweet? Need something else inside of you instead?”

Rin huffs a soft laugh as she intertwines her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. She fears that her expression is entirely too open as she looks up at him and her lips quirk into a smile, but it’s too late for her to take it back so she commits to it, letting a tiny bit of the feeling that’s been growing inside her show on her features.

“I just—it doesn’t always need to be about me. Take your pleasure and enjoy it. You don’t owe me one back, or anything silly like that.”

Astarion stares at her as his expression clouds with confusion, but the hand in hers doesn’t weaken, his grip still strong and sure. 

Rin stands up on her tiptoes, lips seeking his cheek as she bestows a light kiss upon it before whispering, “Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She steals her hand back, the slide of his skin against her own slow as she takes a step away from him, sending a little wave his way before she turns and walks back towards camp, leaving Astarion to stare perplexed at her retreating form.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Astarion sits perched on his favorite rock in camp, handsome and brooding, no doubt the perfect portrait of a mercurial and mysterious vampire to anyone with eyes who chose to look his way.

Or he would be, if anybody in this damn camp would pay any attention to him.

He rolls his eyes with a scoff as he directs his gaze towards the small group of idiots that are now his companions; a preposterous notion that he even considers them to be such. 

They make their merry by the fire, passing around a bottle of what is clearly a very strong whiskey if the faces they pull after taking swigs of it are anything to go by.

He can imagine the smell of it, smokey and stout, and is very glad to have a goblet of wine beside him instead. 

Whiskey was all fine and good and certainly had its uses, but it lacked the elegance of a fine wine; no whiskey ever as smooth on its own as a delectable vintage feels gliding over his tongue and down.

It’s a chilling thought that he’s been in such close contact with these fools for months now, Astarion learning all their little intricacies whether he wants to or not. 

Yet, he doesn’t find himself hating the growing familiarity quite as much as he did at the beginning. 

He knew his siblings, of course. But that bond was different, one forged by mutual fear and shared pain. He didn’t know what kinds of books they liked to read or what their favorite sweets had been. Instead, he knew how each of their screams sounded and how their bodies had looked torn apart under Cazador and Godey’s punishments, flesh rent from bone.

No, he firmly knew more about this merry little band of imbeciles he had been thrown together with than the six souls he had known for years and years and years, with one individual in particular standing out above the rest.

Astarion, it seems, now knew more about Rin than he had ever cared to know about another person in over 200 years. Useless, meaningless information she’s offered up about herself seemingly at random and without purpose or prize. 

She was a complete and utter fool.

And yet, he drank up each and every tiny piece about herself that she gave him as though it were her blood, flowing free and pomegranate-sweet from her neck. 

Astarion knew her favorite flowers—a hard choice, according to her, but she tends to favor the perfect, happy purple of the crocus a little more than the rest. 

He had rolled his eyes at this, swiftly informing her that flowers were essentially no more than useless, pretty things with little substance; and had earned himself a very sound swat upon his arm.

He knew her favorite foods—any sort of sweet berry at midsummer, along with a nice loaf of bread and perhaps some butter or cheese. 

Her taste in food was pitifully simple, though Astarion supposes a life on the Lower City streets didn’t usually imbue people with a terribly complicated palate for the finer delicacies life had to offer.

He knew that Rin did not know her father—only that he had been an elf come to the city on some sort of business from a far away place and Rin her human mother’s only token of remembrance from an affair she only wanted to forget about, and one she eventually did forget about when she left Rin to fend for herself.

She knew nothing of the Elvish ways and customs, nothing of the language that should sit so naturally on her tongue.

The knowledge that he could say anything he wanted to her in their language and she would be hopeless to ever understand him is one that tempts him in a variety of ways that he doesn’t indulge, lest his mind find its way heading into dangerous territory.

He knew that she’d had no sweeping romances with tender touches and soft sighs—only quick nighttime flings helped along by pints of cheap ale from equally cheap taverns and that while they had perhaps filled a need, they tended to leave her feeling more empty and decidedly less than, in the end. 

Astarion all too well understood that particular feeling. He hated that she had ever felt the same.

He readily ignores the inkling in the back of his mind warning him that he, perhaps, is no better than the others when he leaves her every night staring up at him, poorly concealed disappointment etched across her pretty face.

Uselessly, he also knew her favorite color—the deep, turquoise blue-green of the Chionthar on a clear day at noontime, naturally, when the sun sparkled off the undulating current of the water. 

It could never be anything quite so easy as simply ‘the color blue’ with her.

Astarion himself had long forgotten the color of the river, having only seen it as the darkened muddy blue-black of the midnight hours for centuries now.

Rin had been utterly shocked when she asked him for his own and he had told her he didn’t have one.

“You don’t have a favorite color? Astarion,” She had said aghast, drawing out the syllables of his name as her bright eyes had widened in surprise. 

He had no use for frivolous things like favorite colors. 

What colors, exactly, was he to have had the time to enjoy?

Certainly not the darkly stained, ornately paneled woods of the chamber he used to entertain his victims; or the gaudy, overly saturated reds and too brightly shined golds in that room meant to invoke opulence and luxury, yet another layer designed to further lure them into the fantasy he provided.

Nor the watery yellow glow of torchlight against the dull, muddied brown of wet cobblestones as he led whoever had been chosen that night back to the Szarr Palace, charming and seductive as he promised them his body and their control over it. 

There was nothing beautiful about the metallic shine of a silver cage in the kennel, dotted with the rusty brown of dried blood, though whether it was his own or belonged to one of his siblings he never really knew.

How was there to be any joy found in color beyond the allure of the deepest burgundy wine as it filled up his cup to help dull his mind as he lowered himself to do the things his mark that evening wanted of him, mind drifting to focus on anything else as he did whatever he needed to do in order to survive.

Astarion grimaces, throwing back another swallow of his wine as the thoughts leave him tinged with the sickly yellow-green of disgust and the feeling of shame: a blistering, burning, glowing red.

At first, right after the Nautiloid had crashed and he had escaped the closeness of that dreadful pod, his chest having constricted at the tightness of it around him—it was just another cage in the end, wasn’t it? Just another leash for him to be collared to—the riot of colors in the bright light of the sun had hurt his newly sensitive eyes as he had hid in the shadow of the wreckage.

It was only once he had realized he wouldn’t be burned to a crisp in the sunshine, a wonder in its own right, that he began to take notice of them all. There were far too many colors and all of them were so…so saturated; all the different shades and intensities unbearably overwhelming.

From the small green leaves of the scrubby trees, to the brown grains of sand, to the grotesque purple of the Nautiloid and the soon-to-be rotting corpses of mindflayers—terribly, horribly overwhelming.

She was overwhelming to look at when he first saw her, too. Shining eyes of emerald green, warm skin thoroughly kissed by the sun, dark blonde curls gleaming in the unbearable brightness of the light. That awful outfit she wore that marked her as none other but a bard, albeit one with terrible sartorial sense. 

Rin was the first person he had set eyes on in the sunshine in over 200 years and he had hated the very sight of her. 

She had been a clash of colors, all dreadfully uncomplimentary to him, that he shied away from the sight of. Colors like that were never quite so bold in the darkness that he was so used to, their vivacity dulled by dancing firelight and the shadows of night.

She was too brilliant to bear the sight of, utterly casual and downright flippant, too unbothered by it all to be trusted—though, he knows better now; and looking back he can see that her confidence was all nothing more than a well-executed performance on her part.

He still doesn’t feel bad about holding that knife to her neck as he had dragged her down into the coarse sand with him, the scent of her scarlet blood still rich despite it drying against her cheek, dots of it mixing in with the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks like the tiniest of constellations.

Perhaps that was his first mistake in all of this, allowing himself to get so near someone so dazzling and warm. It was like playing with fire—dance too close to the flame and you were bound to be burned. 

And going up into flames was something Astarion could not afford. 

But now, slowly, the color has begun to come back to him little by little and he could start to appreciate again it for the first time in centuries.

The precise cornflower blue of the sky on a cloudless day or the deep violet of it at twilight as the stars wink to life. 

The way sunlight dappled onto the ground through a forested canopy to illuminate the all the tiny flowers that grow up from the ground in a rainbow of colors—purples, pinks, yellows, blues. 

The myriad of all the different greens that he could now truly behold: the dark, bountiful leaves of a fern, a fragile spring green stem of a flower, the lush and verdant shade of her eyes.

Astarion still didn’t have a favorite color. Not really.

But he was coming around to the idea of having one.

A laugh carries across camp, melodic and light and lovely, dragging him from the depths of his musings over to where Rin sits by the fire, their companions all floating around her like moths to a flame.

He absolutely hates the way they all look at her. 

He can see it on their faces, a blatant adoration that she somehow seems to completely disregard for reasons he can’t fathom, instead intent to spend her time with him of all people.

But he cannot blame them, after all, because he’s no better. Just as desperate for her attention and her closeness, it seems, if the way his feet kept finding their way to her tent night after night was anything to go by.

Astarion wonders sometimes if they can see the very same hopeless look on his own face as he gazes upon her, despite how well he tries to hide it. 

Rin leans against Halsin as she laughs, cheeks flushing at whatever it is the oversized elf says to her. Her curls are unbound, falling freely around her tonight in a wave of shining gold to her waist and he wishes he could bury his fingers in the strands to feel the softness of them for himself. 

The druid does nothing to dissuade Rin from the circle of his arms as he claps a hand on her shoulder before sliding it down to the small of her back, smiling at her a touch too friendly for Astarion’s liking and a stab of something hits him straight in the chest.

Jealousy.

He has no claim to her, of course. He’s not made one and has no plans to. But the sudden thought of her underneath Halsin—or any of them, really—has his jaw clenching tight. 

The other elf is attractive and strong, no doubt a good lover; and the thought of the warmth he could so easily provide her that Astarion cannot churns his long-empty stomach.

He can see it all too easily, imagining Rin so very pretty with cheeks flushed pink and body inviting as Halsin leans over and takes her sweetness for his own.

He can see Rin on her knees, looking up at the druid with the same look of affection in her eyes that she had given him earlier that day as she had tasted him.

Or perhaps the worst thoughts of them all—Rin telling Halsin all the inane things she would normally bother him with; Rin playing tiny bits of melodies and sweet little songs on her lyre for Halsin while he whittles by the light of the fire; Rin writing the druid letters that she would then hide poorly in his tent, ensuring they can always be found and read and replied to— 

He was spiraling, and he needed to stop.

Astarion shakes the thoughts away with a frown, bringing his goblet back to his lips for another sip. He doesn’t know why she favors him so, why she allows him into her orbit when there’s a group full of others who would so readily take his place, all of whom would no doubt treat her better than he has. 

He wouldn’t blame her, if she sought after any of the others.

Certainly not after that night, the one where he had made her undress before him for his entertainment and then kicked her out of his tent when she was still wrapped up in the afterglow of what was a very intimate evening.

Perhaps too intimate.

His chest gnaws at itself at the thought of the way he had handled it all.

Astarion had lost count of how many times he had undressed in front of others, so many of their faces blessedly long blurred by time.

He had unbuttoned and unlaced countless of his shirts, pants, doublets—a liar’s allure painted upon his features as he gave whoever it was a show, forever the night’s entertainment for his quarry. 

Yet, he had made her do the same.

He had enjoyed it, too. He had enjoyed watching her undress solely for him, piece by piece, her gaze piercing his own as she reveled in his attention on her.

She hadn’t said no or objected to it. But he could see the challenge in her eyes just as easily as she could see right through him and his attempt to gain back his precious lead in their little game, the perceptive little thing. 

A strange feeling—remorse—settles itself in his chest as he watches her from across camp.

The remorse only grows the longer Astarion fixates on it, leading to more and more questions that he doesn’t have the answers to, the weight of them near unbearable upon his scarred shoulders.

The crushing reality was that his plan was crumbling bit by bit, like a tiny pebble crushed under foot; and the worst part about it was that he was finding it harder and harder to care. 

Rin has made it abundantly clear that she is on his side.

He’d seduced her, had won her sword (mediocre skill notwithstanding), and had long secured her dedication to his cause.

By all accounts, his plan is practically complete where she’s concerned.

All they needed to do now was get back to Baldur’s Gate and—well, he wasn’t quite sure what would come after they get back into the city, Astarion was still a little fuzzy on the details of it all, but she’d help him figure it out when the time came, of course. 

Rin was aways helpful when it really mattered.

So why is it that he can’t stop with the first part? Even if he were to decide to stop sleeping with her, he wasn’t particularly concerned that she would suddenly turn on him. 

He has no reason to find his way into her bed now; no reason other than his own selfish, deep-seated desire for her company and attention and affection.

Rin catches his eye in a poorly timed glance of his own, and smiles so full of a sickening fondness—nose crinkled and flushed cheeks—at him.

Faster than he can follow she’s out of Halsin’s embrace, gracing the druid with a playful smile and a pat on the shoulder before she saunters over to where he sits perched on his rock, limbs unnaturally loose as she pads closer—drunk indeed.

Astarion doesn’t miss the way the light from the fire limns her figure from behind, setting her aglow in a halo of golden-red as she finds her way over to him, something in his chest warming as she nears.

She sways slightly when she stops before him and he can smell the rich tang of the whiskey on her as she sends him a mischievous look that has his lips already quirking up at the corners. 

“You,” she pokes him in the chest to add an emphasis that he did not need. “Should come join us”

“And you,” he refrains from poking her back in response, though the thought amuses him. “Are drunk.”

Rin takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning forward, slotting herself between his legs and blithely ignoring the glances the motion garners from their companions.

Astarion’s eyes widen at the blatant display of affection, taken aback by the ease of it as the scent of her surrounds him—honey and flowers and all around loveliness. 

On anyone else he would hate the perfume she wears, but on her it smells nothing short of wonderful; tempting him to bury his face into her neck and breathe her in.

Her hands play with the hair on his neck, as they always seem to, delicate fingertips running through the waves and he resists the urge to lean into her soothing touch.

He can feel multiple sets of eyes upon the two of them, voices lowered into whispers as the group no doubt gossips. The nature of his relationship with Rin is far from a secret, he’s drawn too many beautiful sounds from her lips for anyone to be unaware of their trysts. 

Astarion secretly revels in the idea that they are quite possibly jealous of what Rin gives to him; something that none of them have ever received from her. 

So let them see, then. 

Let them see that it is him who she seeks out, his arms the ones she wants to find herself in, his lips the ones she wishes to kiss.

Astarion’s arms find their way to her waist with an uncomfortable ease, hands settling along the indent of it as his thumbs run up and down her covered skin without thought, dragging her closer between his legs until their faces are mere inches from one another’s, only the rock beneath him stopping her chest from pressing fully against his own.

“I’m not drunk enough, I fear.” Rin cocks her head to the side with a smile, as she whispers covertly to him. “Maybe, if you come share a drink with me, we can fix that.”  

Astarion allows himself the temptation to brush an errant curl away from her face, the lock just as soft as he knew it’d be, before matching her tone. “Don’t be such a lush, dear.”

“Oh, come on, Astarion. I know that you enjoy a good drink as much as I do. And I promise, the whiskey is good.” 

He swears that he can hear her breath hitch as his fingers accidentally brush against her cheek, her eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise as he tucks the curl behind her ear.

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt of that, my dear,” He chuckles, a corner of his mouth turning up without his permission. “If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be quite so tipsy in front of me.” 

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Rin tuts, pouting. 

The way her bottom lip pushes out and her eyes widen under lowered brows is, dare he say, cute; and he can’t help the inward sigh that he’s now been relegated to thinking of a beautiful woman something as absurd as cute. 

It’s a blow to his seductive charm, surely, to use such a word to describe her; but all of the other adjectives he’s thought of in the past seem to had fled his mind under her spell when she looks at him like that. 

What in the absolute hells has she done to him?

“Pouting? Really, darling?” Astarion drawls, the hand he had used to tuck her hair back now brushing openly down her cheek in a touch that has her face heating to a most becoming shade of pink.

Rin instinctively leans into his hand and he resists the urge to cup her cheek, suddenly possessed by the want to draw her face closer to his.

“You don’t have to come drink with me at all, of course.” Her voice takes on that same tone it had taken on earlier, intention dripping from her words like the thickest of honey as her she bites her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. “We can always go find something else to do instead. Just the two of us.”

The pink of her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip, soothing the place where she bit down upon it, and if Astarion hadn’t been paying attention already, he certainly would be now.

“Oh? Just the two of us?” He teases her, his other hand moving to curl around her lower back to pull her even closer, Rin curving herself into him, and Gods if the feeling of her against him didn’t feel like heaven. “What do you have in mind? A game of cards? Or, perhaps we should practice our calligraphy together, hm?”

Rin leans in to let her lips brush against the tip of his ear, Astarion barely holding back the shiver that threatens to break free as her hands comb through his hair and she speaks low, “I can make you feel good again, Astarion. If you want me to.”

Her words bleed with affection and genuine sweetness, and Astarion finds it very difficult to say no to her when she asks like that.

His mind flashes back to earlier, the image of Rin on her knees as she had waited for his answer, hands poised at his waistband streaking through his mind along with others as his stomach tightens. 

Her perfect lips wrapped around his cock, the feeling of coming down her throat, drops of diamond-like tears tracing down flushed cheeks, his hands buried in her hair.

How she had told him to take his pleasure and not worry about hers. A very sweet sentiment that he deeply appreciated for reasons he very much didn’t want to think about at the moment.

‘Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once,’Rin had said. 

As if she didn’t already give him plenty.

He’s thoroughly enjoyed being at her mercy, her touch always soft and gentle while she asks for permission. It had been so many years since he had indulged in wanting to be touched like that, and having affection heaped upon him by someone so eager to please him has quickly become nothing short of addicting. 

“Oh? And do tell, how you plan on doing that?” Astarion lets his fingers drift slowly up her spine, enjoying the way her body presses harder into his and her breath catches, the sound lovely.

“Follow me and I’ll show you,” Rin whispers as she steps out of the circle of his arms, swaying slightly as she does, and Astarion’s brows knit together in consternation.

She grabs his hand, and Astarion swears the feeling of hers wrapped around his could scald him, every nerve in his body set alight by that innocent touch.

He allows himself to be lead to her tent, content to follow after her with hands still connected; but there seemed to be a single glaring issue standing in Astarion’s way that he was apparently now unable to ignore. 

She was quite drunk tonight. 

Too drunk, according to a newer, still unfamiliar voice in his head. 

It’s a step too far for him now, or at least it is where she’s concerned; a step that, granted, months ago he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at taking. 

All the better if they were too drunk, it only made his job easier in the end.

But Rin’s not like that, she’s not a mark and she deserves so much better than being taken advantage of in such a state, even if for his plan or his own personal desires of her. 

She would be so easy to please like this, with the alcohol addling her mind. 

And oh, how he could please her. 

He could so easily touch and kiss and fuck any thoughts she may have about Halsin or any of the rest of them right out of her mind, ensuring that his name is the only one that falls from her lips.

She steps through the flap of her tent, her hand still holding his, and once he’s inside she’s turning again, wrapping her arms around his neck as she balances up on tiptoes, staring earnestly into his eyes. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Astarion. Just tell me, I want to know more about what you like.” She sways again, and his arm wraps around her waist to steady her as their bodies press together.

“Let’s get you lying down, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to say such a word earlier, but it had slipped out of his mouth as he had hit the burning, white hot peak of his pleasure at her worship. 

Astarion finds, though, that he likes the way it flows off his tongue when directed at her. 

It fits her well enough, in his opinion.

He lets Rin drag him to the ground until her back is against her bedroll and he hovers over her, staring down into hazy green eyes as her curls spread around her. She’s a vision like this, and he memorizes the sight of her without thinking to, his eyes moving to capture every inch of her before his mind even realizes what he’s doing and can tell himself to stop.

“And now, Astarion?” 

She waits on a bated breath, waiting, as his eyes finding their way again to her lips.

Kiss her. That voice in the back of his mind is nothing but a traitor as it whispers to him, knowing full well he can’t give in to such dizzying impulses like that on a whim.

He knows better than to allow himself to kiss her. Because once starts he won’t be able to stop.

It would be so easy to fall into her, to kiss her into utter oblivion and lose himself in the body she so readily offers. To forget all about his pathetic life if only for the little bit of time they steal away to spend together in temporary bliss.

But it always comes back after. 

The memories, the reality of who is he and what he’s done, the feeling of his skin crawling in the aftermath of so many hands that have touched him without permission.

Her touch is different, but when he’s been touched thousands of times by thousands of people, it all seems to blend together in the end no matter what he wants—even if hers is the only one he wants to think about and remember the feeling of, thoughts of her consuming him even with just a gentle brush of her arm against his.

“And now, darling, you sleep.”

He doubts she’ll remember much come morning, the whiskey burning through her veins hotter than a flask of alchemist’s fire; but Astarion finds that he wants to be remembered, if only by her, just this once.

Wants her to remember their time together the way he always will. If they survive this, even when he has his freedom and is long gone to wherever it is he wants to go—he will always remember. 

He ignores the stutter of loneliness that pangs in his chest as he imagines ever so briefly what his freedom will look like when he’s on his own with no one else around.

It would certainly be quiet. Perhaps even peaceful. 

He would be able to spend his time however he wished it in the solitude, not a soul around to bother him with foolish chatter unless he went in search of such a thing. 

Strange how the thought of it doesn’t hold the same appeal that it once did.

A hand running along his cheek draws him out of his thoughts, dragging him back to the present as Rin looks up at him, eyes soft and yet somehow still managing to pierce straight through his un-beating heart as she studies his features.

“I meant it, you know—what I said to you that night. You don’t have to fuck me, Astarion. You can come sleep with me and we can just lay together. Or even just talk. I know my conversation doesn’t mean much, but—” She cups his cheek in her palm, the tenderness of it threatening to burn him to cinders. “It doesn’t have to be just about sex between us. We’re friends too, aren’t we? Friends can simply enjoy each other’s company and presence and take care of each other, can’t they?”

She’s babbling, words falling out of her mouth freed by the whiskey; but the innate truth he hears in them threaten the remaining bits of resolve that he has left.

Astarion’s not quite sure who she’s trying to convince—herself or him—but his determination wanes regardless, like a thread pulled too tight and on the verge of snapping.

But it wasn’t just about the sex, and if it’s not just about his plan, then what was it about?

He’s fairly certain friends don’t typically know each other’s bodies as intimately as they do, or know how beautiful they look as they fall apart, or find themselves craving nothing more than to simply exist with the other near.

Friends probably also don’t think about each other in the depths of the night when they’re cold and alone and hurting, the thought of the other a shining light in the eternal darkness of their existence.  

Astarion, though, has never had any friends that he can remember.

With more gentleness than he would prefer, Astarion removes her hand from his cheek and rights himself to a kneel, his knees finding their home on either side of her hips. 

He holds her hand within his own, turning his attention where he cradles it in his palm. Her hand is smaller than his, several calluses along the places where she holds her rapier and her quill, fingers still decorated with the ink she must have used earlier to write him a very scathing letter.

He had briefly considered tearing the letter to bits, the words contained on the piece of paper properly irritating and, in Astarion’s opinion, practically libel, but he couldn’t do it; instead relegating it to the pile where he keeps all the other useless slips of parchment from her in a neat stack hidden out of plain sight in his tent.

Her letters were, after all, the first tangible thing anyone had given him since he was bestowed with his sanguine hunger, his dark curse. 

And whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s so far been unable to find a valid reason to rid himself of them, useless though they may be.

Before he can catch himself, he’s leaning his head down to the hand he holds within his own, and with a damning softness he brushes a kiss onto each of her ink-stained fingertips where they had touched his face, lips light against them before placing a final, reverent kiss in the center of her palm.

She’s looks as though she’s not even breathing when Astarion raises his head to stare down at her, her hand still clasped in his own. 

He can hear the beat of her heart, drumming loudly against her ribcage with a rhythm he’s become so very familiar with, and he can smell the ambrosia of her blood as it soars through her veins.

Even in the darkness he can see the pink of her cheeks and the freckles that dust over the tops of them and he’s half-tempted to count them, wishing to brush his fingers over each and every one of them, if only to feel his skin against the sunny warmth of her own.

But it’s too much, and he’s spiraling downdowndown again into the depths of somewhere he’s not yet ready to be, and so he needs to leave. Needs to leave for the same reason he has to leave her every night, despite the weakness that has him indulging in anything and everything else she’ll afford him.

He has no other choice, for when she speaks such innocent words to him, offering him the simple solace of rest so full of a tender, blossoming affection, he’s filled with a want so heavy it threatens to drag him under.

Because if Astarion allows himself to give in—to know what it would be like to be warm, comfortable, safe—he knows he would never be able to go without it again.

Warmth, kisses, attention, kindness—all heaped upon him without wanting anything in return. No money, no favors, no motive other than her pure wish to spend time with him.

It’s a good thing his heart no longer beats, for if it did, Astarion has no doubt that she would be able to hear the rampant sound of it in his chest just as he can hear her own.

He rests her hand back down, letting it settle across her stomach as he swallows down the torrent of things that threaten to break free from him, Rin looking at him with a confused sort of wonder, as though he were a puzzle she was trying desperately to fit the pieces of together in her mind.

“Good night.” He stands to leave, movements as quiet as the night around them thanks to the unnatural grace he possess, before turning toward the tent flap. “Sleep well, my darling.”

He’ll allow himself that much, at least; for what was the harm in letting himself indulge in getting to call her his own just this once, if only to see what it feels like?

“You too, Astarion.” He turns his head briefly at her whispered words and meets her eyes, something molten and unguarded smoldering in her gaze as she watches him leave.

He can’t bear the sight of it a moment more, another utterance from her all it would take for him to succumb to his most secret desires—things he can barely stand to admit to himself—and so he turns his head forward and walks back out into the darkness, letting the honest and true longing that has been slowly burning him from the inside out finally consume him. 

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 2

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I'm like completely overwhelmed that anyone has even read the first chapter of my fic, well alone liked and/or reblogged it! Thank you guys so much!

This chapter is a little bit of filler, just a heads up. But I hope you all like it anyways.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.0k

There were a lot of people surrounding Rooster’s bed, they all introduced themselves but the only thing he could really think about was how scared he was for them to pull this tube out of his throat. The doctor told him that there’s always a chance he might not respond well and they’ll have to place another one. And good god, that was the last thing he wanted. The sedation medications, being unable to talk, having to have his throat suctioned constantly, and listening to the never ending sounds of the machines were his own personal hell. And the prep before this was its own level of horrible. They put a vest on him that shook him violently to loosen any crap that had built up low in his lungs while he was intubated. Then they deep suctioned the shit outta his throat, it was so uncomfortable but Y/N promised it was all to help him and keep him from getting sick again and having to be intubated again.

He looked over at Y/N and prayed that she could say something to make him feel better. All of his friends and Mav were still on the aircraft carrier in God knows where, so Y/N was the only familiar face. He guesses he could’ve called Penny, Mav’s girlfriend, but it’s a Saturday morning, she should be spending time with Amelia and getting ready for another crazy night at the Hard Deck.

“So what’s gonna happen is: I’m gonna sit your bed up really high and place a pad under your chin since a lot of gunk might come up with the tube. That’s completely normal.” Y/N explained calmly, “Brent, the guy on your left, is the respiratory therapist. He’s gonna ask you to cough a few times and on the last cough, he’s gonna pull the tube out.”

Bradley nodded, looking her straight in her beautiful, expressive eyes.

“Your throat’s gonna hurt and feel really dry, you probably won’t be able to talk for a little bit.” She continued, “But I’m gonna stay here and monitor you, listen to your lungs, suction out any more gunk, and maybe we can try swabbing your mouth with water to help with the dryness until you’re cleared to drink. Does that sound okay?”

The young doctor at the bedside scoffed, “Do we really need to have this much dialog? We have other patients to get to, Nurse.”

Y/N’s face hardened, “I am well aware that you all are busy. However, I’m not going to allow anything to happen to Lt. Bradshaw without his full informed consent, so I’m making sure he knows exactly what we’re doing. It’s his right.”

The older doctor smiled at Y/N, “This is why nurses are so important, they fill in the blanks for the patients. As physicians, we can get caught up in the science and the technicality of things but nurses are the people who remind us to remember that we’re taking care of the whole person.”

The young doctor rolled his eyes.

Y/N smiled at the older doctor and shot the young doc a look that said, Bite me, bitch. She then looked at Rooster and asked, “You ready?”

Rooster nodded slowly, he was so scared.

“It’s okay that you’re scared.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “But you see Brent, the one literally doing the damn thing to you? He’s not scared and I’m not scared ”

Brent smiled, “Not one bit. And all of those docs in their fancy white coats, they OK’d me to do this. That means they’re not scared either.”

Rooster felt a rush of calm wash over him, Y/N trusted these people, so he had no reason not to as well.

“Ready man?” Brent asked.

Bradley nodded.

Y/N sat the bed up so that he was sitting tall and placed an absorbent pad under his chin, “Let’s do it!”

“Give me a few coughs, Lieutenant.” Brent instructed.

Rooster coughed uncomfortably, it felt so weird with this thing on his throat.

“One last big cough.” Brent said.

With his next cough the tube was out and Rooster couldn’t help but continue to cough and dry heave. All the doctors’ eyes were glued to the numbers on his monitor, the only one looking at him was Y/N. 

She wiped all the spit and nastiness off of his face carefully and talked to him quietly, “That’s it, let it out. You’re doin’ great.”

A few moments later the older doctor said, “His oxygen sats look great. Let us know if anything changes, Y/N.”

Y/N nodded, “Will do. Can I get a standing supplemental oxygen order? Just in case his sats start to decline.”

“Of course, Carl– I mean… Dr. Parks will put those in for you right away.” The old doc looked over at the very displeased younger doctor.

Once the doctors all assessed him and felt okay leaving the room, it was just Rooster and Y/N. He gestured towards his white board, there was no way in hell he could talk yet.

Y/N happily passed it to him and proceeded to start her own assessment, listening to his lungs with her stethoscope.

That young doc is an asshole. Rooster wrote.

Y/N snorted, taking her stethoscope out of her ears and setting it to rest around her neck, “For the sake of professionalism, no comment.” 

Can you call Maverick and tell him I’m okay? 

“Yeah, of course.” She pulled a pen and a slip of paper out of her scrub pocket, “Just write down his full name and number.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Hi Captain Mitchell, this is Y/N and I’m Lieutenant Bradshaw’s nurse today.” You tried your best to sound as not nervous as possible. You always hated sitting at the nurses station and calling family members on the phone, usually because it was to give bad news or tell them to come to the hospital quickly to say goodbye. At least this time it was something positive.

“Oh my god,” The man choked on the other end of the line, “Is– Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. I’m sorry for scaring you.” You fiddled with the long phone cord, “He’s actually doing great. We took him off the ventilator about an hour ago and he’s breathing really well on his own. He’s working with physical therapy now, they have him out of bed and sitting in a chair.”

You could hear the joy in the man’s voice, “That’s incredible! Oh my god! I can’t wait to tell everyone, we’ve all been so worried. Can I speak to him?”

“Not quite yet, he’s not able to talk yet and will be hoarse for a little while.” You explained, twisting from side to side in the swiveling chair,  “But I can see if we can charge up his phone so he can text you and call when he’s able to.” 

“Thank you so much for the update, Y/N.” Capt. Mitchell gushed, “I usually have to call first for updates but this was such a great surprise.”

“Well one of the first things Bradley asked me to do for him after his extubation was call you and let you know that he’s okay.” 

He let out a happy sigh on the other end of the phone, “Did he really? That’s so good to hear. Tell him I’ll be home soon and my first stop will be to see him.”

You nodded, “Will do, Capt. Mitchell. You have a great rest of your day.”

“You as well, I know you’re taking great care of him.” And the call cut off right there.

“Ooooh look at you, big shot.” You couldn’t help but smile seeing Bradley sitting up in a chair and channel surfing on the crappy hospital TV.

Bradley picked up his white board and marker from the table beside him, Did you talk to Mav?

“You mean Capt. Mitchell?” You confirmed and Bradley nodded, “He said he’ll be home soon and his first stop will be to come see you. But hopefully you’ll have busted out of this joint before then.”

Bradley raised his eyebrows and scribbled, You think so?

You shrugged logging into the computer by his bed and starting to organize his 3pm medications, “I mean, I can’t say for sure. I know that you military dudes can’t tell people exactly where you’re going or when you’re coming home on your deployments. But if things keep going as well as they are, it seems like a good possibility you could be transferred to a step-down unit and then hopefully discharged in the next week or so.”

Bradley started writing again, I don’t want to go to another unit. I want to keep you as my nurse.

You giggled, “Well that is incredibly kind of you to say, but the best part of my job is seeing patients get well enough to be transferred to a lower acuity unit and then eventually discharged.”

Bradley pouted and drew a big fat frowny face on the whiteboard.

“You were a lot less sassy with that tube down your throat, Bradshaw.” You teased as you crossed the room with his meds, hanging them on the IV pole and programming the pump.

Pumping me up with poison? He smirked as he wrote.

“Nah, just antibiotics to treat that pesky infection that almost killed you and brought you in here.”

Damn, I was hoping you were gonna say they’re steroids to get me yolked. He flashed a mischievous grin at you.

You scoffed, “I took a pledge when I finished nursing school not to harm my patients and I considered giving them drugs that would shrink their balls and give them breasts doing harm.”

Bradley snorted and let out a hoarse laugh. Though it was very quiet, you could tell it was a great laugh.

“Hey Y/N, I’m taking room 4 back from you.” Carly, the young nurse from the morning, sat in the empty chair next to you at the nurses station.

“Oh great, do you want a full report or are you good with just the updates?” You asked, pulling out your notes from the day.

She clicked her pen, “Updates are just fine.”

“So the biggest news is that he was extubated today.” You grinned.

“Really?!” She gasped, “I’ve been pushing for that but the resident kept saying no.”

“Parks?” You inquired.

She nodded and sighed, “Yeah, have you met him?”

“Unfortunately.” You rolled your eyes, “I think he shares similar feelings about me as I do him.”

“I hope you gave him hell.” She giggled, “I’m still a new grad, so I don’t have enough experience under my belt to push back very much.”

“Well if he gives you any grief on your shift, don’t let it get to you. He’s also a new grad doctor, he’s also still learning.” You assured her then went on to finish your report.

“Hey Bradley, I’m headed out for the night. Carly’s gonna be taking care of you and I’ll be back tomorrow.” You entered the room with Carly by your side.

“Thank you…” Bradley croaked, “For everything…”

Your heart melted a little bit, you knew it took a lot of effort to get the words out, “You are more than welcome. And I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll get you transferred to a less intense unit.”

Rooster pouted and did a big thumbs down gesture.

You giggled, “That’s a great thing, Bradshaw. You don’t wanna be stuck in the ICU with me forever.”

He sassily rolled his eyes.

“Carly and I are gonna sign off some meds and check your lines.” You said, “And don’t give my girl too much sass tonight; she will be reporting back to me in the morning.”

Rooster scribbled on his whiteboard, No promises.

[cntloup]

SUGAR

Mafia!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Rival's Daughter!Reader angst, toxic relationship

Simon was never a man for fancy ball events but as the right hand man of John Price, had to be by his side at all times especially at times like these, meeting with the rival. As they arrive at their destination and get the formalities of greetings and introductions out of the way, he goes to settle by the bar where he can have his eyes on the whole room, just in case. He orders his usual Kentucky Bourbon. As he stands there, drink in hand, his eyes searching the room for any kind of threat, that’s when he sets his eyes on her... and he should have taken her for what she really is... a threat; he should have ran right then and there but he never did. He had heard about her, the daughter of their rival, but never seen her beauty and grace up close. She looks elegant with a charming smile... and that’s when he knows he’s fucked. She feels a set of eyes on her and looks for them in the crowd and finally faces him. She's heard about him too. She starts walking towards him to greet him properly and that’s when it all started.

“This can’t happen.” he mutters in between kisses as they hide in the hallway “Why not? Cause we’re rivals? Who the fuck cares? If anything I’d be happy to fuck him over.” “who?” “My dad of course. Who else? I hate his fucking guts.” he’s surprised to hear that then replies with a chuckle “Why? Not the lifestyle for you?” “Fuck no! I feel like I’m in a cage. His puppet that he gets to play with and show off whenever he pleases.” he thinks that he can understand her struggles as he has his own trauma too.

And you play a twisted little game, But I know in a way, You need to complicate it, Believe that though we never eat, We still know how to feed, We still know how to bleed, oh

At that time he thought that she’s too sweet and innocent for this life, but that’s where he was wrong. The arguments, the push and pull, the manipulations started not too long after they first felt something for each other which he thought of as pure. He felt used and abused, he started to feel paranoid even more than before, never trusting anyone, even doubting his peers, sometimes even Price. His head full of thoughts like ‘Is she just using me for information?’ ‘Am I just a guard dog to him?’. But there was another side to her; so loving, patient and understanding of his pain and torment... also she was an enchanting seductress. Fuck, she was intoxicating. She had him completely wrapped around her finger.

My arms keep you in the room, Barely let you move, Show me what you do, oh, Tonight, we're second-guessed again, Let me wrap the chains, Addicted to the pain

As he pulls her into his room, never taking his lips off of her, nibbling and kissing any part of skin he can reach, he kicks the door close and corners her against the wall, not letting her move an inch. “What the fuck are you doing to me? My mind is in shambles cause of ya! Do you hate me or love me? One day you stay by my side through everything even when I’m at my worst but the next day you act like I don’t even exist as you come to the meeting with another guy on your arm!” he grunts as he puts one hand around her throat squeezing just enough to make her dizzy, just how she likes it. She smiles devilishly with no reply and pushes her lips against his and he can’t stop her, he never can. He’s addicted, fucking addicted to the pain she puts him through, addicted to her taste, everything about her. If she wants to see how far he can go, if she wants to test him, he’s more than willing to play this game with her.

Do you wanna see how far it goes?, Do you wanna test me now, my love?, You must be crazy if you think, that I will give in so easily, Things we buried low, Coming to the surface now, my love, You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, Oh, whoa

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now, Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥