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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

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You and Eddie are enemies, you can't stand each other, but when you spot him with Chrissy in the woods you're forced to confront your feelings for him and the fact you'll have to hide it from him.

He hates you, he'd only make your life miserable if he found out.

Everybody lives, nobody dies Au, angst to fluff, jealousy and idiots very much in love. 18+ mdni.

❤️

You can hear Eddie before you see him as you walk into the cafeteria with your cheer mates. As usual, he's making a spectacle of himself at the Hellfire table, standing on it and calling out the marching band, basketball players and the party crowd.

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you attempt to walk past the table but Eddie seeks you out, a smirk on his face as he focuses his attention fully on you.

"There's my favourite cheerleader" his winks at you and you stand your ground, ready for whatever shit he's about to say.

His purpose was annoying you, or at least thats what it felt like. It was always you that got his ire, who grabbed his attention every time. Honestly it was the same for you when Eddie was around.

It was like both of you were moths to a flame, something simmered between the two of you that you couldn't place or at least if you could, you didn't want to examine the cause too closely.

"There's my favourite dumbass" you fire back and he clutches his heart like you've wounded him. Ever since you and Eddie laid eyes on each other it was like you were magnets to the other.

Whenever your paths crossed there was tension in the air, banter exchanged that left both of you bothered and wanting more... Whatever it was between the two of you could wait for another day, you had cheer practice, prom committee and a bake sale to organise.

You did not have time for Eddie Munson today.

Not that he cares about your plans. He jumps off the table and lands right in front of you. Ugh. "Munson, I haven't got time for your dramatics today, go bother someone else"

He pouts and it's frustrating that he looks almost endearing while doing it. "How can I cope if I haven't been told to go kiss my own ass and the many other insults you've spouted at me just in the last week or so sweetheart?"

Here's the thing. You're certain Eddie enjoys arguing with you, gets some sort of pleasure from it. If you're being honest you enjoy it too.

"Oh bite me, you'll survive Munson" his eyes light up and then you hear a snigger from behind you, it's his sheeples or whatever he calls them, Dustin, Lucas and Mike watching the two of you fascinated.

"You say I'm oblivious, look at those two" Mike mutters and Eddie still overhears even though Mike has whispered it.

"What was that Wheeler?" Eddie narrows his eyes at him and Mike turns pink and looks suddenly very interested in his soda. You slip away from Eddie when he's distracted.

Both of you are rattled by what Mike said but you try not to show it as you walk away.

❤️

As the day winds to an end you're beyond relieved to just be going home, then you notice Chrissy walking into the woods instead of heading home herself.

Curious, you follow her into the woods, then freeze as you find out that she's meeting up with Eddie.

It's an awkward conversation at first but the tension melts away as Eddie and Chrissy are talking, he's goofing around to make her smile.

Throws himself backwards into a pile of leaves, asking if there is something in his hair, shy little smiles and hiding his face with hair as he talks to her.

There's a sinking feeling in your stomach, an aching in your heart that multiples when Chrissy giggles along with Eddie.

Seeing enough you stomp away, crashing blindly through the trees, there's wetness on your cheeks and you realise you've been crying. Crying over Eddie fucking Munson and the fact he was obviously smitten with Chrissy.

It wasn't a surprise, everyone was and to Eddie you were just an annoyance, someone who pissed him off and that was that. You always knew that but now the realisation was paticularly crushing.

You liked Eddie, like really liked him. Of all the guys you could fall for, why did it have to be the one who spent half his time thinking of new ways to irratate the hell out of you?

Couldn't you have realised this any sooner?

Shit if he even knew how you felt about him it would he horrid for you, he would never let you forget it and show you his disgust.

So it was settled. You would stay far far away from Eddie Munson, and his cute dimples and pretty brown eyes. They were nothing but trouble.

❤️

For the next few days you keep your distance from Eddie. It's hard though, because he seems to be wherever you are with that amused grin on his face.

You don't even entertain his stupid barbs, you ignore him for as long as you can, but he's growing more frustrated that you aren't your usual sarcastic self.

It gets to the point that you turn around during one encounter and glare at him, embarrassed as tears pool in your eyes. "Will you just leave me alone Munson" his eyes widen at your tears, you storm away before he can say anything else.

...

Eddie does leave you alone, you don't see him the next day which is a rarity.

It doesn't last for too long, you find him at his van talking to one of The Hellfire Members. He turns around and spots you, shooing his friend away.

"Will you talk to me" he sounds almost pleading and it throws you off balance. There's no way he missed talking to you is there?

"Why for you to rant and insult me, or make me feel even more shitty about myself,'" he reels back like you've slapped him.

"What? I don't... 'he trails off as you scoff and turn away from him.

"Yes you do. Not all time but sometimes you're just fucking mean. I guess because I'm and I quote "so bitchy and vapid''you think that it won't bother me" his face falls and he shakes his head.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was a mean douchebag" you look away from him stubbornly and shrug.

"Yeah well, I'm not sweet and perfect like Chrissy, everyone adores her" fuck you adored her, so no wonder Eddie liked her.

"What does Chrissy have to do about this?" He looks puzzled. His big brown eyes searching you for an explanation.

Flustered you explain what you saw. "You were all flirty and sweet with her the other day, when I saw you in the woods together, not that I care" you wince realising that you've gave away that you do care very much.

This was stupid. You were jealous of your friend and you shouldn't be. Having enough you decide to walk away but Eddie follows you.

"Chrissy wanted some weed for her and Jason, that's all, I'm not interested in Chrissy princess and she's definitely not interested in me". You're stunned by this, you never expected Chrissy to ever try weed and this stops you in your tracks.

"Seriously?" you gape and he gestures for you to sit in his van, opens the door for you as he does so.

"Why were you avoiding me sweetheart?" he asks you his tone very gentle. You feel your whole body flush with mortification as he stares at you, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't make me say it Eddie, you'll only turn around and be a complete ass about it"

Or be sweet like he is now and turn you down kindly, looking at you with pity. There's a brief pause and then his fingers interlace through yours, the feel of his calloused fingers entwining with yours sends tingles down your spine.

"Tell me"

"I have feelings for you okay. l've fallen for you badly, seeing you with Chrissy made me realise that. So now you know and if you're going to be a dick about it then do it now" your lip wobbles but you refuse to cry again.

He softens and cradles your head in his hands. The gesture is so tender and kind.

"Sweetheart, you're all I think about. Every single day from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Only you" he kisses you tenderly and pulls you close to him, kisses you until you're both breathless and smiling goofily at each other.

"I'm so fucking into you sweetheart, one of the things I talked to Chrissy about, if you stuck around long enough to find out"

Now it makes sense why Chrissy asked you earlier if you had talked to Eddie, looked disappointed when you said no, gently urged you to.

"You know he talks about you a lot" Chrissy grinned at you, there's a knowing look in her eyes, yet you shrugged off what she said. Figured that he only talked about how you annoyed him.

Shit you were such an idiot to not see what she really meant. So wrapped up in the idea that it was Chrissy that Eddie was smitten with. Chrissy would never let anyone talk crap about you either, you should have known that.

Eddie rests his head against yours. Kisses it briefly then a cheesy smile forms on his face. "You're crazy about me huh sweetheart?" he teases and you roll your eyes at him.

"Doofus, you're just as crazy about me" he squeezes your hand, tugs you back in for another kiss that robs you if your next words. That's fine, you could argue about that later... much much later.

💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #jealous reader #eddie munson

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livwritesstuff · 3 months

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I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

#ooh Moe-POV how do we feel about this #steve isn’t rattled he’s gearing up to defend eddie to the grave again #moe just can’t tell the difference #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Two to Tango Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is ready to up the ante on your wager, and he finds he doesn't mind the idea of you winning.

Warnings: Adult banter, swearing, smut, fluff

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Part 3

Bradley was unsurprised when you took the lead in points by a small margin at the end of Thursday. He had tried his best to rattle your nerves by whispering to you that you looked like a pretty princess during the lecture, but it backfired on him terribly.

You had started laughing, trying your best to hold it together, but Killer turned around and glared daggers at Bradley from his spot right in front of you.

When the lecture ended, and everyone made their way out onto the tarmac, Killer came up behind you and asked, "He's giving you a hard time, Tango?"

Bradley watched as the enormous man glared at him again, and then he watched you rub your chin like you weren't quite sure how to answer.

"Do you want me to get my ass kicked?" Bradley whispered, pleading with you.

You laughed again. "Nah, he's alright, Killer."

The only response was the sound of Killer snorting like a bull before he strolled over to Phoenix. His expression changed from pissed off alligator to lovesick puppy in an instant when Nat looked up at him.

Bradley would have to interrogate his friend about her taste in men later, because right now he had something to ask you before he climbed up into his aircraft.

"Tango," he called to you as you were walking away. "How about we up the ante on our wager?"

Your smile was instantaneous. "What did you have in mind, Rooster?"

"Loser takes the winner out for drinks. Back in California." He knew he was making a bold assumption that you would be interested in going out with him after this week, but he couldn't help himself.

"Let me get this straight, sweetheart.... when I win, I get two hundred bucks, you have to say something nice about me, and I get free drinks? Sounds great."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake, and then Bradley pulled you a little bit closer to him. "You're beautiful."

You smiled and looked at your boots, and Bradley loved how flustered this made you. "Just make sure you come to my room later and not Killer's, okay?"

----------------------------------

Bradley couldn't believe himself. He honestly didn't care if he won the bet or lost. It didn't matter to him if you were better than he was. And when he arrived at your room on Thursday night, and you started listing off your favorite cocktails, he just laughed.

"I want you to know what I like. For when you take me out for drinks," you informed him as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Bradley really thought you and he would just get down to business and start undressing right away, so he was a little surprised to find you snuggling up to him. He folded you up in his arms and kissed the top of your head.

"I'll buy you as many drinks as you want. Maybe we can even go out more than once," he whispered as you started slowly working on the buttons of his shirt.

You looked up at him, and Bradley braced himself for rejection, but instead you told him, "For some reason beyond my comprehension, I really like you. And your mustache."

"I really like you. And your smart mouth."

You smiled at him as he scooped you up into his arms.

"Tomorrow's our last day here. Are you gonna miss me?" you asked as Bradley dropped you down on your bed and climbed on top.

"Why do you think I tricked you into agreeing to meet up with me for a date?"

You laughed as he kissed your neck and hiked his hands up under your shirt. "I guess I fell for it."

"I'm so charming, you didn't stand a chance," Bradley told you, digging his fingertips gently into your sides.

"Yeah, yeah, age and experience and all that shit. Come on, old man, I want you to earn your walk of shame."

Bradley took his time and made you cum on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his face as you whined. He stretched out on the narrow bed and pulled you on top of him. His dick was rock hard as you started to ride him, your movements languid, a hazy look in your eyes. You already looked a little fucked out, and now you were enjoying his body slowly, rubbing your tits against his chest and rolling your hips.

"Nice and slow, Tango. Make it last," he whispered, and you stilled your motions with him fully seated inside you.

"So slow," you murmured, moving just ever so slightly. "God, you feel good."

Bradley basked in your words as you praised him. "Tango," he moaned as you moved your body up and down his length a little faster. Bradley gripped your hips and enjoyed the way you were looking at him, the way you were working him closer to the edge.

He watched you cum for him, all of your little gasps growing louder as you ran your hands along your breasts, teasing yourself as your eyes drifted closed.

"Fuck," you moaned, and when you squeezed around him, Bradley thrust up into you until you got loud. Then he came too, and held you as you smiled at him.

-----------------------------------

When your alarm went off on Friday morning, Bradley reached for your phone and silenced it.

"Tango," he whispered, playing with your hair. "Let's get up, baby." You barely stirred, so he added, "So I can kick your ass and win this thing."

You rolled out of your bed, alert and ready to go. "Like hell, sweetheart. Come on."

Bradley laughed as you started to get your flight suit on, still determined to win. You narrowed your eyes at him as you tied your boots.

"Maybe I'll just stay here and skip the competition," he said with a yawn, pulling the blanket up higher. "Let you have it."

You shook your head and stomped back across the small room. "Get up, Rooster! I'm winning this thing fair and square! I can't wait to hear the nice things you have to say about me. And I can't wait to hear you say them in front of everyone."

But all of the nighttime activities had started to catch up with Bradley, and the day was not working out in his favor. You destroyed him and everyone else in the ten mile run. You took the lead early, and you were unrelenting. But this time when Bradley and Jake came huffing across the finish line together, you handed him some water and let your fingers linger on his hand.

"Thanks," Bradley mumbled before downing all of it in one go. "Damn, you're fast, Tango."

Then Bradley thought he was going to faint during the obstacle course; the temperature was nearing ninety five, and he barely managed to beat you.

He was exhausted, laying on the ground, looking up at you as you blocked the sun for him. "Comes down to the five mile run," you told him, placing your hands on your hips.

You were sweaty and muddy, and Bradley wanted to take you into the locker room with him. He could feel his body humming as he looked up at you and thought about his hands all over your body.

He thought about asking you to come spend a weekend with him in San Diego; he had an enormous walk-in shower at his place. But he thought better of it. He would give it more time.

"Five mile run. Fuck. Just take your two hundred bucks now. You win, Tango," Bradley groaned, still on the ground when the rest of his team crossed the finish line. You reached out and helped him to his feet. He staggered around rubbing the stitch in his side, and you grinned at him.

"I'll see you at the finish," you told him, leaning in to kiss his sweaty cheek, right in front of everyone. Bradley watched you walk away as Killer glared at him, but Bradley couldn't stop smiling. Maybe you wouldn't say no to a weekend with him after this.

He smiled as you immediately passed him and stayed well ahead of him during the five mile run. And he was still smiling when he finished in second place for total points on the week.

"Congratulations," he told you, sticking his hand out and shaking yours.

"You are so slow, old man. I can't believe your only claim to fame is landing on a freaking boat. How embarrassing." You kissed his lips softly before you added, "Now, I want my compliment as soon as everyone else finishes."

"Nah, I'm going to start now. You're beautiful. You're funny. You're smart and charming and competitive. You make me want to get to know you better."

You were trying to hide your face behind your hands as the final stragglers finished the five mile race, and Bradley loudly announced, "Tango is more talented than I am. All I have is experience from being so old."

You started cracking up, and you wrapped your arms around him. "I tried to tell you that on Sunday."

"Yeah, well, you were right and I was wrong."

You kissed his sweaty cheek and told him, "I'll see you in Cali, sweetheart."

-------------------------

Bradley picked the spot, a cute restaurant halfway between Edwards Air Force Base and Top Gun on North Island. He'd dressed up a little bit, anxious to see you again. It had been a week since you beat him at his own game, and Bradley had talked to you every day since.

You had refused his two hundred dollars, but Bradley would insist on paying for everything tonight. And he was hoping to score a second dinner with you in the process.

"Old man."

Bradley spun around from his spot at the bar to face you. You were wearing a dress and some makeup, and he was at a loss for words.

"You okay, sweetheart?" you asked softly, eyeing him up and down. "You look nice."

Bradley leaned down and kissed you, pulling you against him. When you took his face in your hands, Bradley used his lips to separate yours, and he briefly tasted your tongue.

"I missed you," he whispered against your mouth.

"I missed you too, Rooster. I hope you remembered the list of drinks I like."

Bradley chuckled. "I remember everything, Tango. Now let's eat and drink so we can spend more time catching up and making plans."

----------------------

Thanks for reading this one! I hope you enjoyed this final part!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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onehopefuldreamer · 10 months

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Challenging a Queen - a love letter

Look, at first this post was going to be about Look into me (my first love when it comes to this game's soundtrack and still one of the songs I adore the most).

Then I wanted to wax poetic about You and I and You and I reprise (three different versions of the reprise depending on what you do with the throne and Mary Elizabeth McGlynn's glorious voice, yes, please! Plus Persephone and Grace is my personal OTP).

After that I moved on to The Throne because I think it's both absolutely awesome and absolutely bonkers you get two themes to mix and match there instead of only one (1st theme based on your first choice and the 2nd on your answer to Orpheus' question). It's still a huge, HUGE personal favourite.

(I will still write love letters to these three songs eventually.)

But then I read Austin Wintory's commentary on the Pantheon version of the soundtrack he posted on YouTube and it caught my attention that he called Challenging a Queen the most complex song in the game. Previous to reading that I had thought it was the same as a lot of the other songs - three main themes that you just get to mix and match but aside from that nothing much changes. Oh, how wrong I was!

Reading that comment made me curious about trying different combinations to see what would happen and once I started doing that I was completely blown away. Because it turns out that this song is anything BUT simple! The choices are even more interlinked here than in most other songs and the possible combinations that lead to different outcomes are so, SO many!

Based on my experimentation (8+ hours of gameplay that's only replaying this one song) I have discovered the following:

1. The first choice you make directly influences the second. So if you go from Green to Red for example you get a completely different outcome than if you had gone from Red to Green.

2. The first choice also influences the third/middle one. BXGXX is not the same as RXGXX or GXGXX (X stands for any colour). In the case of middle Red, I think, there's the most possibilities because there the second choice also comes into play. For example the banter between Grace and Persephone is different if you go with RBRXX (which is the same as RRRRR) or RGRXX.

3. Then the third and fourth choices also influence each other and lead to different combinations. Say, XXBRX is decidedly not the same as XXRBX.

4. Last but most certainly not least that pesky first choice continues to have an effect until the very end. The combination between it and your fifth or, sometimes, fourth and fifth choice/s is what leads to all sorts of different and unique endings you can get.

That's already a super complex song structure that I'm still not sure I have figured out completely, to be honest. I continue to experiment with different combinations and plan to try to see if I can compile a guide to all the possibilities here. I'm very much not statistically or mathematically inclined so this has been a bit of a struggle but I'm also having so much fun trying to pick apart this song that I don't really mind.

I've never experienced anything like this in any game before and honestly playing around with this song has been a revelation. The amount of screaming I have done in front of my laptop every time I come upon something new is insane. I've come to a point where I have bits and pieces of Challenging a Queen rattling around my head at all times and I LOVE it! Because, as weird as it sounds, I have not become bored with this song even after so many hours of listening to it. I happen to love all the different permutations and listening to Laura Bailey and Mary Elizabeth McGlynn try to outperform each other is far, FAR from a hardship. In fact it's an absolute joy.

I'll leave you with what's probably my most favourite discovery about this song: there are 17 different endings you can discover. 17!!! That's insane! Or at least that's as many as I have personally discovered and I am still very much in awe. If you're curious about checking them out on your own, here goes:

1-4 - RRRRR, BBBBB, GGGGG with a Charming Grace and GGBGG or GGRGG with a Clever or Kickass Grace. These are what I call the regular or classic endings. You're pretty much guaranteed to discover these.

5-8 - BXXBG, RXXBG, GXXBG with Clever or Kickass Grace and one extra XXXBG ending for Charming Grace. The first choice does not matter for Charming Grace, the ending is always the same no matter what.

9-11 - BXXGR, RXXGR and GXXGR

12-14 - BXXBR, RXXBR and GXXBR

15-17 - BXXRB, RXXRB and GXXRB

What I find impressive (aside from the huge number of endings) is that the endings from 5 and onward are all genuinely combined endings. They're not just alternative versions of the RR, GG or BB endings, they're a combination of approaches and/or musical styles and I cannot even begin to express how much I adore that.

I'm not going to lie, doing the experimentation for the GR, BR and RB endings in particular hurt my feelings a whole lot because I'm a Persephone stan and hate to see her trounced by Grace so thoroughly when I know she's actively grieving Calliope. But what really broke my heart (again as a Persephone stan) is those BG endings. Those have made me cry actual tears (the only other ending that's had this effect was GG with Clever or Kickass Grace). They're also the only endings I've been able to discover that have the camera panning down instead of sideways and come with their own backdrop. Discovering my first version of them had me squealing like mad and feeling like an archaeologist who'd discovered priceless ancient treasures. They're probably my personal favourites, all of them. Both because they're so unique and because I love how compassionate Grace is in them. As much as I do think Grace is badass when she wins, I love her being soft and understanding towards Persephone a whole lot more.

I'll stop here because this is already a wall of text for which I'd apologise but this is not even all my thoughts and feelings on this song. I just have so many! Now off to listen to it again and work on my guide.

#stray gods #stray gods: the roleplaying musical #stray gods grace #stray gods persephone #nad talks about the things she loves #song analysis #sort of #long post

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fivelakesinwriting · 2 years

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Sour (Joseph Quinn)

Author's Notes: It's birthday (tomorrow) and my gift to you, is this Joseph Quinn fic. And I cannot thank you all enough for the love you've shown me for Wicks and Wax. It was a leap of faith that seemingly paid off. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Arguing/ Tension, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Mentions of drinking, Smut*(established relationship, slight manhandling, biting, fingers, oral sex - female receiving, unprotected sex - be safe out there, your choice how!)

Requested? Nope!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

They argued a lot while he worked on the latter part of Stranger Things. Mostly because he was gone so much. There was tension between them, unresolved sexual tension because they both needed the same thing but were so tired and lonely to express it.

"It's my job, and I have to. I'm so tired of this argument, honestly." Joseph grumbled as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted to fuck, then go to sleep. And she looked too good in that tight black dress to be all the way over there, hands to herself and angry with him.

"You didn't even look at me tonight." She pouted. Honest to God pouted, and it would have be been sweet if she had been right.

But she was wrong.

The entire night, no matter where he was, his eyes were on her. Watching how her body moved, what her hands did, how she licked her lips before she spoke. He had wanted a taste all fucking night long.

"Is that what you think?" Joseph grumbled with a glare as he scanned her body, top to bottom.

"It's what I know."

"Then what you know is wrong. Because I couldn't keep my eyes off of you tonight. Your legs in those heels, and that dress made me feel frenzied. Just wanted to rip your panties and fuck you against the wall before even left. But you wouldn't look at me." Joseph replied as he got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to her. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her, eyes downcast to her body and the shivers all over her skin.

"Oh, stop." She scoffed despite how her nipples hardened at his closeness and the scent of his skin.

"You know I love your legs. And this ass. Turn around." He ordered under his breath while he brushed his nose over hers. He grabbed her hips and manhandled her around so her chest was against the wall, hips arched.

"Joseph."

"Let me see you." Joseph muttered as he dropped to his knees behind her and roughly pulled up the skirt of her dress to expose her backside. He breathed out a moan at the sight of her thong, and he couldn't help but press a kiss to either ass cheek.

"Baby, what are you doing?" She whispered as she braced herself against the wall with one hand while the other reached back for his hair.

"Taking what's mine. Get this out of our way. Oh, honey." Joseph grumbled as he hooked his thumb in her thong and tugged it to the side, revealing her wet folds.

"Don't tease me." She sobbed out softly as she pressed her forehead to the wall, tugging his hair.

With a hum rattling around in his chest, Joseph attach his lips to her clit, sucking it gently as he thumbed her folds. He shook his head back and forth softly, making her gasp and scratch at the back of his neck.

"You wanted it just as bad as I did, yeah? So wet down here, honey. How many fingers can we fit tonight? Hmm?" He cooed as he took the hand not holding her panties aside and gently pressed two fingers as her dripping entrance. With a weak moan in the back of his throat, he eased his fingers inside of her with no resistance.

"Joseph, please."

"Another? Fuck. I only ever use two." He breathed out as he pumped and twisted his fingers.

"Then give me your dick. I need more, baby." She whined as she pulled his hair and tried to bounce on his fingers.

"Fuck." Joseph panted as he continued to work his fingers in her wet hole and kissed the small of her back. He reached for his belt buckle and tugged it open as he stood up behind her, quickly shedding his pants to his ankles.

He grabbed her hips and backed them up to the couch again, sitting her on his lap with her back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he pressed his crown to her entrance and waited. He groaned into the back of her neck as she whined out and rolled her hips to fill herself with him, her hands reaching back to tug his hair.

"Needy girl. I've got you, I'm right here. Oh, fuck yeah. Good, so good. Missed you, honey." Joseph growled as he grabbed her hips and bucked his hips up into her, filling her out.

"Missed you, too. You're so thick, baby." She whimpered as she pulled his hair and bounced in his lap.

"Never felt you so wet, honey. Jesus Christ. Why didn't you tell me? Take care of you. Let me - " Joseph panted as he pushed her dress back up and played with her clit, rolling it around the way he knew would make her melt.

"I fucking love your hands."

"Say shit like that to me all the time, honey. Like my hands between your thighs? Hmm? Fuck. You're squeezing the life outta me, honey. Gonna cum, yeah?" Joseph growled as he nipped at her neck, feeling his own orgasm approach. He whimpered into her neck as her walls clenched around him with her release, covering him down to his thighs. With a bite to her neck, he released his seed inside of her with a growl like an animal.

"Baby." She sobbed out while her body went limp in his arms.

"I've got you, honey. Just need a second then I will take you to bed, clean us up." Joseph panted as he kissed the side of her face

If you liked this, you might also like my fic:

Scorched Earth {Eddie Munson}

Scorched Earth 2 {Eddie Munson}

**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being.Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for Dylan O'Brien and Andrew Garfield are open. Requests for OBX are closed.

#joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader smut #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine

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moonchildstyles · 1 year

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fic announcement and sneak peek!

hiiiii besties!!!

I said a while back when I announced columba that I would be coming back with another series for both Tumblr and patreon this summer and that time has come :)))))))))))

for the last four years Ive had this idea in my head for a super special h that ive just let build a home in my heart that kept growing and growing and growing! now ive finally had a chance to write it all out and make him real with a fun story and lots of little details to make him who he is!

I don't want to spoil too much about him just because I want there to be a little mystery for him and theres so many fun details that I think will be really fun to put together when you dont' know what he's up to!

so, starting on June 30th, Rosemary will begin being posted with a new part every friday here on Tumblr! Patreon will be getting early access with the first part being posted on June 16th, and every friday after! an extended sneak peek is also up on my patreon rn!

If you are interested in reading the new story, please wait until June 1st to sign up so you only get charged once at the beginning of the month and theres a full 30 days before the next charge!

you can also check out the Pinterest board I made for the fic!

let me know if you guys have any questions about anything! im sooooo excited and cannot wait for you all to read!

under the cut is a sneak peek :)

—————

"Thank you, Harry!"

The bow girl's chirping gratitude only had Harry looking at her stiffly with a grumbled Yeah falling from his lips. Just as she had done the last couple of months since she made herself a presence during his shifts, she only gave him a smile before bouncing away with her basket only containing a carton of banana milk and her favorite cookies. She was no longer perturbed by the standoffish responses he gave her. Harry couldn't decide if he liked that or not.

It was like this at least a couple of times a week. She never did a big shop, only stopping by at the later times to pick up individual ingredients for a dinner she had chatted to him about, or little snacks she couldn't seem to go a day without. During at least one of her trips, she found an excuse to talk to Harry; she asked him about his day if she was close enough to feel comfortable starting a question (Harry never gave her a good answer, honestly), she told him about her own day and what she was shopping for if there was anything specific she had in mind. She almost always had a bow pinned her hair, fluttering behind her and matching whatever soft piece of clothing she had cinched around her form. Harry had even began fishing out a pack of her favorite cookies from his boxes if he was stocking that aisle, just to make it easy if she came in and asked him for assistance. It made the interactions quicker and less bothersome—at least that's what he told himself.

He knew more about her and her routines than he had any of the hundreds of people he'd met in the last handful of years since he started moving around. Even if that did make him feel a bit guilty knowing that she didn't have a clue about who exactly she was sharing these parts of herself with; she didn't know the mess she was tiptoeing around every time she interacted with him.

Tonight was no different, her leaving a rattling in Harry's bones that he wanted nothing more than to ignore like every other part of his life. If he was superstitious, he would think she could have cast some kind of spell on him with the way she and her little bows lingered in his brain long after she had checked out and gone on her way home.

That rattling followed him as he made his way into the backroom, his empty box needing to be replaced. An exasperated sigh fought to leave his chest when he saw almost half of the overnight team huddled in the area, puttering about as they chattered and pretended to work. He didn't like being roped into their conversations, and that almost always happened when he ran into more than two of them at once.

Harry didn't say a word as he broke down the cardboard box on his cart, pushing it off to the pile of the other flattened boxes before he reached for another. The conversations had quieted some when he walked in, but he could still hear what sounded like Brett and Fawn flirting in the back corner with a cart of refrigerated items that needed to go on the opposite end of the store, and Theo talking to two of the other guys that Harry didn't bother to remember their names.

"Busy night, huh, Harry?" Theo started, dropping whatever topic he had been rambling his friends about just a moment before.

"Yeah," Harry answered, voice stiff. It wasn't any more busy than any other night as far as he was concerned. Besides, he had other things he needed to worry about to be making conversation with a coworker he barely knew. There was still a pearl colored ribbon tying his stomach in tiny knots that he needed to fix.

Soon enough, a silence fell through the backroom when the others made their way out. Only Harry and Theo were left, Harry doing his part to semi-organize his chosen box before heading out on the floor again.

Maybe it was the rattling in his bones, or the vision of a peach colored bow that he saw every time he blinked, but something in Harry felt a little reckless when he peeked over at Theo focusing on his own box.

"That girl," Harry rumbled, feeling odd in his skin as he spoke, "The one with the bows in her hair... She comes in a lot."

Theo looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes wide with furrowed brows as he looked in Harry's direction. He even glanced over his shoulder as if there was anyone else there for the conversation to be aimed at. Harry had to keep from scoffing, dropping his gaze back to his working hands.

Floundering over his words, Theo tried to catch up once he realized Harry was voluntarily talking. "Um, the one with bows in her hair?"

Harry hummed in response. "She's in a couple of times a week."

"Ohhh," Theo sounded, familiarity touching his tone, "You mean (Y/N)?"

Harry swallowed at the sound of her name. He'd never asked for it himself. "If that's her name, yeah."

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Theo nodding his head some. "She comes in a lot, yeah. She's not good at keeping a list and always forgets stuff if she tries to do big shops, so she just comes in when she wants something or runs out."

Though he didn't want this information to mean something to him, Harry felt a part of himself slowing being fulfilled the more details he learned. She didn't tell him these kinds of things when she rambled about her dinner choice for the night.

Keeping his gaze tacked to his hands, Harry kept his words measured and calculated. "Oh," he started, "Is she from here?"

"She's lived here forever, yeah. Why?"

A beat passed as Harry opted to ignore the second part of Theo's response. He didn't need to have any details as to why Harry was asking after someone after working together for five months with only a handful of interactions. Even if he did want to share that, Harry didn't have any answers to that why, anyway.

"Does she... What does she do?" Harry asked, the phrasing of his words feeling awkward falling out of his mouth. He was lucky he was so used to shielding his emotions and staying stoic, otherwise he would have cringed where he stood.

"Like for work?" Theo asked, his eyes warm on Harry's profile.

Lifting his shoulders, Harry only shrugged in response. It was probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut.

"She—uh—she works at the bakery. She and my sister work there together," Theo told him, acting as if Harry was supposed to know what bakery he was talking about and who his sister was. "(Y/N)'s pretty nice, though."

"Right," was all Harry offered by the time he finished organizing his box. He didn't bother to give anything more in response or wait for Theo to say more before he was walking out on the floor again. Even when he could feel his eyes stuck to his back.

No doubt would this interaction make its way to the rest of the team before the end of the shift.

It was harmless curiosity, Harry argued. He just had to believe the harmless part.

—————

#other #mine.#harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing

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buckyarchives · 1 year

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The Domestic Life Of Living With a Runaway Assassin [chapter one.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

summary: you hate many things in life. You hate soulmates. You hate the avengers. You hate guns. You hate lost snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can find yourself hating him

W.c: 6.9k

Author note: did not think this was going to actually get notes. I forgot how bad my wiring was back then and going through and rewriting all of it is just. Ugh. I’m too lazy.

masterlist

Today was going down as the most inconvenient day ever.

It was 10:30 pm, and you were sitting in some stupid coffee shop, the only one that had free Wi-Fii in your area because yours is down for the next 24 hours. The coffee tastes like shit because of-fucking-course it does. This place closes in 30 minutes and you have all that time to send in all your week's work to your boss, which is also due in 30 minutes. You weren't even going to think about the fact you spent all day having to listen to ongoing construction outside and having to run your roommate all around Queens to help her get comfy and organized at her dorm.

You wanted to kick someone, honestly.

As you tried your best to focus and very frantically type away at your keyboard. You were probably going to break your keyboard at some point tonight, either by typing too hard or just simply throwing it across the fucking room in a fit of rage.

A woman, maybe in her mid-30s – if it matters, walks up to you and reminds you that the place closes in half an hour and gives you a free, pity coffee. Probably noticing the growing under eyes bags or seeing you yawn into your hand every 7 minutes, give or take.

You had chugged the coffee and put everything you had into the next 20-something minutes and you sat back after your third look over everything to make sure you didn't miss any mistakes that could possibly get you fired. You were finally done and could go home.

Closing your laptop and packing your shit up, you wave to the lovely lady probably waiting for you to leave so she can close up. But because nothing goes your way and New York is just the most wonderful place to live, especially with the avengers. You don't make it out the door before you hear rapid gunfire rattle your ears and suddenly you’re ducking beneath the first table you find.

Your day could not get any worse, you thought.

Maybe you could have just crawled up in a ball and accepted your fate of being killed midst the 7th random gunfight of the month, you could even make it on the news! Nope, fate had other ideas and someone just has to save you.

Your ears filter out everything besides the sound of gunfire, glass shattering, and people screaming and yelling. It's too fucking late for this. A firm hand grabs yours and before you can get whisked away and snatch your bag because your life is worth risking for your laptop and books. You swear you got whiplash from how fast you moved away from the scene, only seeing a black blur of a human in front of you.

You regain your senses, most of them. After being pushed and crouched in a back alley behind the now-destroyed coffee shop, you hoped the lady was okay. catching your breath and hearing frantic shuffling next to you. A man, tall and built, dressed entirely in black with a plethora of weapons attached to his body. He glances at you for a moment and you think he looks familiar, maybe he was an Avenger. God, you hate the Avengers. His eyes continued to scan the dark area, before settling down next to you, eyes trained on one end of the ally.

He has a messy mop of a head, you can't really see his eyes clearly but you definitely notice the insane-Robert-Pattinson's-batman-amounts of black eyeshadow around his eyes. He has a black mask on too. Okay, so edgy Avengers. Haven't heard of him on the news yet. Like you even watch the news.

You must have been staring for a little too long and too hard because the mystery Avenger takes notice of it and his bushy eyebrows furrow at you, looking at you like you had personally offended him. Then, you notice his eyes and are a little, only a little, taken aback by their intense blueness and beauty of them. You barely notice what he says. “I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

You scoff. “I don't even know who you are.”

The emo Avenger freezes and looks at you with wide eyes like you grew two heads. Or you were the crazy one between the two of you. “What?” you question him and he mumbled and sputtered under the mask. You motion for the mask, telling him to take it off. And he slowly rips it off his face, his very pink lips are parted and he's breathing hard and fast.

“You.. what did you say, your words.”

Wait.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Your mouth falls open and you really want to kick something, or him. “You're my soulmate?” you said maybe a little too loud and it came out harsher than intended. He looks hurt by your tone and if it wasn't for the shock taking over your head, you would have felt bad.

Today is the most inconvenient and the worst day of your life.

“Wow doll, you're the first person I've met that sounds disappointed to find their soulmate.” you ignore his comment and especially ignore the nickname, hoping that wouldn't stick. You wanted to go the fuck home.

“Can I leave?”

Your soulmate narrowed his eyes at you. “No.”

“Why.” your eyes narrow back into his and just for a moment you realize you’re now in an impromptu staring contest with this man in some dirty back alley, hoping you don't get shot. “Listen, man, I have work tomorrow and I'd rather not get shot or dragged into some avengers bullshit.

He rolls his eyes, but you're not done. “I really don't like the Avengers. Seriously, you couldn't have chosen any other job? The number of cars I've seen the hulk throw and then miss–”

“I'm not an Avenger.” his bushy eyebrows furrow, plus the black war paint makes him look intimidating. If you weren't pissed, you might have been a little scared. Only a little.

“You really don't know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you fire back. The ego of this guy!

He sputtered for a moment, “No, I guess not.”

your back hits the brick wall, sigh to yourself, and slump back down. You made yourself small. Now nursing a monstrous headache.

A frustrated grunt comes from the dark brunette. “Ok, ok, ok, ok… I'm going to walk you home.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he says, you just realize you don't know his name. “You said it yourself, you don't want to get shot. I’ll make sure that you don’t.”

You were really tired, letting people win wasn't something you did often. You'll make an exception. You huff and blow some stray hair away from your face. “What's your name?”

He pauses, “Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky.” you bring yourself to your feet. “You bring me safely home, quickly with no little side quest. That's it. And then you turn around and don't come back to my place.” you grab a hold of his hand to drag him along but you're met with cold, hard, metal. He flinches out of his skin, and metal. Your eyes travel up his arm.

“You’re an amputee?”

Bucky looks confused. “What?”

“Nevermind.” you shook your head and continued to drag him along to your apartment. You were so ready to go the fuck to bed. You hoped this walk home wasn't painful, but when do you get what you want?

Bucky was confused. Your pace matched his as you walked side by side to your apartment. The gentle wind brushed against his skin and flew through his brown locks. He was walking next to his soulmate. You were his soulmate and it seemed you wanted nothing to do with him.

Bucky knew very well he was way out of his time but he couldn't come up with a coherent answer to why. Was this new generation against the universe? Was this some weird trend? Unless you lied to him and did know who the winter soldier was, that would make sense. But, you seemed pretty persistent that you did, in fact, not know him (which the more he thought about it– he felt good that you didn't know). You must not read the paper, or watch the news. You thought he was a goddamn avenger!

He glances over to you, your lips. You were chewing on your bottom lip. It was painted red. You look beautiful with the dim yellow street light shining down on your face. “Don't do that.”

Bucky's voice is soft and gentle. He doesn't recognize it.

Your eyes trail to him. “Do what?” you ask

“That.” Bucky pauses in his spot on the sidewalk, takes a few steps towards you and he brings his flesh hand up to your mouth, slowly grazing his thumb across your split lip. “Don't chew so hard on your lip like that. I'm sure it hurts.”

Bucky's eyes are trained onto your lips, he doesn't dare look up at your eyes. But you are staring at him with widened eyes. You felt like you were on fire.

Too close. You pull away. “Okay, this is my apartment. Bye, Bucky.”

And just like that, you're quickly walking into your apartment lobby, you glance back at him and give Bucky a sincere smile before leaving his sights. Bucky stood there feeling like an idiot, completely forgetting any government or hydra issues he was dealing with earlier.

Bucky was going to walk away but his intrusive, no, protective – as he would describe it – thoughts took over. He jogged to the other side of the building, hoping he would be able to figure out which apartment you lived in without going too far. He saw a light turn on and noticed a figure walking by, your figure. This wasn't stalking, no. Bucky was just making sure you made it to your home, safe and sound, he was just looking out for his soulmate. As he should. So, not stalking. And maybe, if bucky only really needed it, he would remember that window so he could pay you a visit. Not stalking you, he just cares about you. For some reason.

Bucky can hear Steve calling him a punk in the back of his head. He missed steve.

On the other end, you dragged yourself into your apartment and dropped your bag the moment you reached your room. Not caring to clean yourself up you flopped on your bed, with a long and painful groan. You felt a small weight down on your bed and you turned your head to see our cat sitting down next to your head.

You smile and bring your hand to pet his head. “My savior. You are the only man I need.”

A soft purr vibrates from the felines, followed by a meow.

You sigh. “You're right. I need a shower.”

Your mind wandered in the shower, as the water trickled down your body you couldn't help but bring your hand to your shoulder blade. Your finger traced around the words on your back. Your lip tug at your bottom lip. You nibbled at the already raw skin. Don't do that. You could practically feel the warmth of his hand on your face as your mind flashes back to when he was standing so close to you just moments ago.

Bucky. There was no way you were going to let him haunt your head now. You turned the warm water off and grabbed your towel in annoyance. Drying yourself off and heading the fuck to bed. Praying that maybe when you wake up this whole day would be a dream. No soulmates, no getting shot at, and absolutely no getting flustered outside your apartment by someone you met an hour ago.

–

Bucky couldn't wait to see you again. He has been on the run from Hydra and Steve Rogers for too long; bucky had a hint on who would find him first. One night everything got to be too much. Parts of what hydra did to him are still very much a part of him, it was tearing him apart. It was getting harder and harder to diffrerencate what was bucky, the winter soldier, or this third feeling of pure absence of someone he didn’t know yet. He needed someone, anyone. He needed you.

You heard someone call for your name, they kept shaking you. You just wanted peaceful sleep goddamn it. You needed it. You rustled in your bed sheets, waving your hand at your roommate. She said your name again, and again, and again and ag–

“What!” you look over to see her, barely, in the dark of the room. “I'm trying to sleep!”

“There is someone in our living room.” she barely whispers.

Oh. “are you sure?” you squint at her. You don't know if she can even see you clearly enough.

“Yes.” another scared whisper.

What does a person around here have to do to get a full night's sleep for fuck sake?

Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Pulling back the covers and throwing your phone at your roommate. “Call 911 if I scream or take longer than I should.” you grab the metal bat in the corner of your room.

The fucker that decided to rob you tonight picked the wrong house, knowing the amount of pent-up rage you had; you were sure you could knock out fucking Capitan America if you wanted. Just imagine your boss's face. You sigh, loud and hard footsteps echoed through your apartment. Rounding a corner and pulling the bat high up and–

Cling!

You braced for impact. You don't get it. You look up at whoever, whatever you hit. “You!”

You are angrier than you were when interrupted from your sleep. What is he doing here? In the middle of your living room, at least he's not wearing his stupid, edgy superhero get-up. Just normal clothing and a baseball cap, but you could see the outline of a gun through his jacket.

“Can you put the bat down?” Bucky’s holding the bat, stopping you from landing a hit to his head.

“No. what are you doing in my living room.”

His face scrunches. Pulling the bat down and yanking it from your hands. That fake arm of his was stronger than you expected. Bucky lets out a pained sigh, “I don't know but will you just listen to me and not hit me, please?”

You feel bad. “Maybe.”

Bucky looks at you and you swear he looks like he’s going to cry. The moonlight shining through your windows makes his face look sharper, defining his features more. You think maybe this is a dream because he looks really good. Bucky looks at you like you are his whole world, or maybe you will be someday soon. “I just…”

You’re quiet, you listening to him. Bucky realizes that maybe he will cry tonight. “I just need to talk to someone, anyone. Be with someone right now or… or…” he trails off, not wanting to think about what else could happen.

you feel terrible. “Do you not have someone else than a soulmate you've only known for an hour?” you joke, but he looks at you like it's definitely not a joke. Bucky's eyes are trained on the floor as he shakes his head.

His head jerks up when your roommate walks into the room. “Do I still call 911?”

“No!.” you and bucky yelled at the same time. Eyes snapping to each other after the syllable left your mouth, eyebrows furrowed and spite heavy on your face. Whilst Bucky looked one wrong move away from a nervous breakdown. Weird dude.

You motion to your roommate to tell her to go back to bed but before you can get any words out she’s shoving past you to get too bucky. “Wait.. are you... I’ve seen you on the news.” her hand raises to her face to cover her gaping mouth. Her eyes go wide and she suddenly looks like a ghost. “Oh, my god.”

What the fuck. “Seriously, jasmine go back to bed and stop gawking at my soulmate.”

She shouts your name like your mother would when you started cussing. “You are not serious. Do you know who this is.” her pointer finger goes towards bucky aggressively. Bucky looks panicked, you wonder why but based on this mood earlier; it was best to ask questions later. It was time to play dutiful soulmate.

“Look, jas.” you grab her by the shoulders. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Just go to bed, please?” you guide– no, drag her out of the room and give her a final nudge away, despite her weird shouts about a winter something. You couldn’t care to listen.

“I’m sorry about her. She gets paranoid.” you release a breath you forgot you were holding, followed by a plop of the couch. Bucky settles awkwardly next to you. “You really shouldn’t go breaking into people's houses, buck.”

Bucky gets whiplash at the nickname, his mind goes to Steve and suddenly he feels out of place. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, you barely hear him. “I should go, this was stupid.” Bucky goes to get up and head toward the fire escape again but you’re quick, grabbing his wrist. Bucky could have pulled away from you if he wanted, but he crumbled under your touch. Bucky holds his breath like he’s going to drown.

Bucky’s days kinda blend together. He likes routine, but there was no routine to have when you're doing what he does. You met him two weeks ago, it felt a lot more than that, or less. He couldn't tell but your touch made him feel like everything was so far away, he caught his breath for the first time in weeks.

Bucky thought about spilling it all out, his past, his everything. But that would defeat the purpose of coming here. That talk could wait. “I'm sorry that you got me as a soulmate.”

You smack your lips and scoff. “As your body should say– uh, somewhere.” you wave your hands dramatically, “I don't even know who you are. Nothing to be sorry for, yet.”

His lip quirks up. “Except scare your roommate half to death.”

“Maybe wouldn't have happened if you used the doors.” you smile at him, Bucky’s sure he wouldn't be able to see it without the soft light of the moon shining on your face. And maybe it's just his super soldier-enhanced senses, either way, he’s soaking it up like it's the only time he’ll ever see it.

“Doors aren’t really my thing.”

You scoff. “I'm not sure what that means but, at least go through my window next time.”

“Noted.”

“And knock!”

His lip quirk turns into a small grin. “Also noted.”

Bucky glances over at you, you’re biting your lip again. He wants to kiss you. He settles for pulling your chewed lip from under your teeth before it bleeds, just as he did that night outside your apartment. You smile, thinking that maybe you'll let him stay around for a while.

You realize that Bucky didn't walk you to your door that night, and didn't even make it inside the building. Your eyes furrow, and confusion and… amusement fills your body. “So did you stalk me the past few weeks or did you just kindly ask my landlord which unit I lived in?”

He pauses, hoping you wouldn't ask about that. “I wasn't stalking you, I just notice things.”

You laugh out loud, and he's caught off guard by how nice it sounds ringing in his ears. “That's literally what a stalker would say.”

“I'm serious, I've been busy doing stuff these past weeks.” Bucky tried to reassure you he wasn't camping out on the roof of the building across your window like an actual stalker would. You haven't decided if you were going to believe him. You just laugh because you feel weirdly good with him in your presence. You curse to yourself, why did the universe always have to be right?

You don't care to respond so Bucky continues. “So you're not going to ask me about what your roommate was talking about.” he turns his head to look at you. He can practically see the gears turning in your head, and he gulps.

You shake your head, eyes trained on whatever is in front of you. “Nah.” you look at him.

Bucky thinks you're the most interesting person he's met in a long time. He’ll test the waters. “What if I'm dangerous.” he narrows his eyes at you.

You narrow yours back at him. “If you're not going to kill me or you're not an avenger, I'm not too worried.”

“What do you have against the avengers?”

You groan. “It's a long story, but they are the reason I don't watch the news and why my roommate is a paranoid freak.”

Oh. so you really don't watch the news. Bucky thinks. He feels guilty when he feels a sort of relief go through his body, followed by more panic realizing he had to explain everything to you soon. Not now though, god no, not now. Maybe he could get by with not telling you at all. Bucky mentally punches himself in the face, no that wouldn't be right. Plus he was sure your roommate would babble to you about how badly the news painted him. Maybe him telling you first would be a better idea.

“Have you ever heard of the winter soldier?”

The golden rays of the sun showed down onto Bucky's face, he looked over to the window hearing the loud bustling of city life below him. Your curtains are brown with white detailing. Bucky shifted on your living room couch, he gauges his mind for the memories of last night. Everything was still all so hazy.

What day was it? Oh, last night. He tried, really, to get out the truth to you. Fumbling over his words and trying to even remember who he was, it was too much. But you, a god-given gift, told him he was too tired to talk, gave him water, and sent him off to bed on your couch.

“You can give me your tragic backstory tomorrow, get some sleep weirdo.” you had said to him before literally pushing him onto your very comfortable couch, before returning to your room for the night.

Bucky didn't sleep, he felt oddly safe and comfortable. But he couldn't sleep. Honestly, he was close to dozing off before your roommate had woken up just before sunrise to quietly go off to work, he assumed. Bucky couldn't tell what time it was, he was guessing it was probably around 5 or 6 am. He ought to get up soon and leave. Should he leave without saying something to you? Is that rude? He was sure you'd be okay with getting him out of your hair, he was already enough of a problem to people around him. Bucky gets up to grab his boots.

“Did you even sleep?” Bucky flinches, confused as to how easy it was for you to sneak up on him. He looks up and sees you leaning against a wall, assuming you just woke up. You're still dressed in comfortable clothing, your sweater falling down, giving him a full view of your collarbone. Your skin glows in the soft sunlight. Bucky shook his head in response.

You hum, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor as you make your way into the kitchen. You start making your coffee and Bucky follows. His eyes go to the table, is he intruding if he just sits down? He stands in the doorway and watches you make your drink. You turn to bucky with an oversized mug in hand, deadpanned. “Can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker. Sit down.”

You motion to the seat next to you. “Not a stalker.” bucky mumbled, and you scoff.

“You want something to drink? I got tea, coffee, juice, anything your heart desires.”

Bucky pauses. “Water?”

“Boring.” your eyes roll and you grab a bottle of water from behind you. Handing it to him, his finger brushes against yours. Bucky’s eyes dart to see your reaction, but nothing.

You get comfortable in your chair and open up your phone. Bucky is still sitting across from you, glancing between the door, window, and his water. He tries to look anywhere but at you. You quickly notice, a smart-ass comment comes to mind but you decide against it. Keeping the comfortable silence going for now.

You glance at Bucky, noticing the way his hair was still a mess from whatever he was doing last night. Quickly you realize this is the first time you've seen him in natural daylight, his eyes are beautiful and his usually dark hair looks closer to a light brunette. You could imagine going out on a date with him if he wasn't so dark and broody, but doesn't that just add to the appeal? Maybe.

You set your coffee down. “So…” trailing off, bucky finally makes eye contact with you. “You want to try again?”

Bucky's eyebrows furrow.

“I still haven't told me who the winter soldier is and it's taking everything in me to not use the internet.” you wave your phone around in the air before setting it down next to your coffee. Bucky purses his lip. “But, I respect you and wouldn't do that.”

Bucky's eyes are trained on the table, his mind trying to find any starting point for this. Should he just tell you about hydra? Start from the beginning with the 40s, fuck, he barely remembers any of that. He's not good with words anymore.

“Can I just…” he pauses, tapping his finger on the wooden table. “Show you?”

It was a bad idea, a really bad idea. Bucky told you that but you'd instead not question him why, bucky wasn't going to elaborate on that either. With both Hydra, the US government, and Steve Rogers looking for him, being in public wasn't the safest. Especially at such a hotspot for Captain America bootlickers and history nerds.

After many lazy complaints from you, you and bucky made your way out of your apartment together. Bucky wore the best casual disguise he could conjure up, and you and he stood in front of the Smithsonian museum.

Bucky glances over to you, a reasonably confused look plastered on your face. “Why are we at a museum?”

“Just follow me and don't draw attention to yourself, please?”

Instead, You roll your eyes and go ahead of him. “Stalker activity.” bucky hears you mumble before he follows you into the front door.

“What are you showing me, stalker.” bucky walks side by side with you, your presence is comforting in the crowded area. He noticed a group of elementary kids walking around, probably on a field trip.

“Stop calling me that.” he mumbled, “Captain America exhibit.”

Bucky looks at your hand, he could grab it. Only so he doesn't lose you in the crowd, just to keep you safe. Not because he wants to hold in, not because the quick graze of skin this morning left him wondering what it would feel like to hold you. Bucky decides against it and keeps walking.

“Isn't Captain America the like co-leader of the avengers or something?” you ask, bucky just shrugs? You see the large blown-up screens of steve roger and roll your eyes.

Bucky's eyes lock on his memorial tribute. “Don't freak out and you can ask me questions after we leave.”

Your face is littered with confusion again as you look at him, but you nod and turn to where he's looking at.

“..Best friends since childhood, James ‘bucky’ Barnes and steven rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…” the voice spoke, highlighting a memorial on bucky. Your eyes widen after realizing the bucky standing next to you was the one talked about.

Your eyes travel to the photos of Bucky. One standing next to Steve Rogers with big smiles plastered on their faces, and one of just him. His hair is shorter and he looks much younger. There is a shine in his eyes you don't see now, a bright look that hadn't been snuffed out yet. Bucky watches you as you process the information given to you, watching for any negative or even mad emotions. You lean closer, reading the sign. Bucky was from Brooklyn, a sergeant in the military, he had 3 sisters and he was born in 1917 and he died in 1945. Well, obviously he didn't actually die, more like presumed dead.

“That's…you?”

bucky nodded slowly, eyes trained on the photo of him. He couldn't even recognize himself anymore.

Bucky scans the area, looking for anyone that may have recognized him. he lets out a very shaky breath. “Okay, we've been here too long let's go.” he really wanted to grab your hand on the way out. You don't look at him on the way out. God, did he ruin this already? He wants to punch himself.

You both make it outside, the cold morning wind gives you whiplash. It feels good. You turn to look at bucky and he kinda looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown, you don't blame him. What you just saw explains so much yet, leaves you with more questions than before. You don't think. You grab his flesh hand in hopes of being some comfort, praying that it doesn't make it worse. It doesn't. Bucky doesn't flinch this time but feels his heart jump out of his chest.

“Are you done with being outside or can we go somewhere?” bucky gives you a nervous and almost… pained look. “It's safe, hidden away and I know the owner,” you reassure him. Bucky reluctantly nods. I'll go anywhere with you as long as you keep holding my hand. And with that, you drag him through new york to your favorite-less-likely-to-get-shot-up coffee shop. It's small, always empty and the owner is an actual sweetheart.

The bells ring as you waltz in, bucky very close behind you, still holding your hand like a lost child. “Gary! Honey I'm home!” you shout with a wide, playful grin on your face, bucky gives a sigh of relief after noticing that it was indeed empty today.

An older man comes out from the back, along with a girl who looks like she should be in high school behind him. You wave and give him a warm smile, leaning over the counter slightly, “the usual, please?” you glance back to bucky, “.. and a water?”

You turn to bucky. “Sit anywhere, I”ll be right over in a second.”

He hums, releasing him from your grasp and suddenly he feels a little empty and more awkward than before. He goes to the table in the farthest corner. Front door. Window. Back door. You. he checks off the list and settles against the wall.

You grin. “How’ve you been holding up, old man.” you tease.

Gary, the owner. A wonderful and long-time friend of yours. When you first moved to new york years ago this was the first place you went to. You became a regular and you watches workers come and go, you came here when you needed quiet to work or sometimes just to snag a free drink from Gary since he just adored you so much.

His niece, Emma, was in high school now and worked here for the past year. You would help her study during her breaks and in return, free coffee, and pastries. She was a good baker. You didn't have family here in the city so they were the closest you were going to get to anything like it.

“Not too much, dear.” Gary gave you a warm smile, his eyes squinting. He glances over at bucky in the corner. He laughs “Got a pretty paranoid date over there, I can see his eyes hitting all the exits.”

You scoff, not expecting any less from him. “Not a date, but sadly my soulmate.”

“Finally!” Gary’s eyes light up, and you give him an annoyed look. “Oh be happy about it! Emma won't stop nagging about how she hasn't found hers yet.”

“Have not!” you hear the girl shout from across the bar. You laugh and shake your head.

Gary hands you your drinks and you bid him a quick bye, knowing he’ll just go back to his crossword puzzles in the back. Heading back over to sit next to bucky and hopefully find out he's not a zombie that's been raised from the dead.

“Your water, sergeant.” you joke, praying it doesn't hit a bad spot. Bucky was surprised by the name, he can't remember the last time someone called him that. His body feels weird.

You don't speak for a moment. You sip at your drink, hoping it will kick it as you didn't get your needed caffeine intake for the day as bucky was dragging you out the door to the museum.

You look at him through your eyelashes, he still looks like he's going to break down any second.

“Are you a zombie?”

“What?”

You set the cup down. “You died. So you must be a zombie. I can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker zombie.”

Bucky's lip quirks up. You're such a dork, he thinks. He almost laughs, it more or less came out as an amused scoff. “I'm not a zombie, I didn't die.”

“Museums these days… always spreading fake information,” you mumble into your cup, taking a quick sip. Bucky smiles, slightly.

“No, I…” bucky trails off, you keep up with the jokes yet you give him a comforting, understanding look. “I fell off a train in the war, I was supposed to die.” bucky catches his breath, talking shouldn't be this hard. “I didn’t, Hydra found me and put me on ice.”

Your eyes perk up in understanding, “like Captain America, right? So why are you on the run then?” bucky looks down, and both of your hands are cupped around your drink. He wants to grab it.

“I'm not Captain America, I did a lot of bad things when Hydra had me. I killed…” Bucky trails off, and memories of Hydra came back to him. All he hears is the sound of guns, and all the blood, he can still smell it. The electricity buzzed in his head as Hydra did their best to strip everything from him, take everything out of him, and then put it back in. bucky can see it all.

You grab his hand and it stops, he just feels you. Your hands are so warm and he wants to cry suddenly. “You don't have to tell me, I do know about Hydra. They did fucked up shit, I know. I'm sure whatever you had to do, wasn't your fault.”

You lean in. too close. your hand raises to his face and you wipe away a stray tear. Had he been crying?

Bucky lets out an unsteady breath. He can do this, you deserve an explanation. Bucky repeats in his head. He squeezes your hand gently. “They turned me into an assassin, they gave me a mission, and… I did it. I didnt know who I was before, but I didn’t... I didn’t know anything. I just knew my target.”

Your eyes are focused on him. “They had me on ice for most of it, like steve, that's why I don't remember anything. It's all so… foggy. I was sent on a mission and when I completed it I got put back under.”

“And when they needed me again, they'd just bring me back up again.”

“Like I was leftover food for them.”

You don't speak, you didnt dare to right now. Bucky's eyes were filled with anxiety as he watched you process the information. Your eyes fell, and you fiddled with your coffee cup. He saw you bite your lip again, he wanted to remind you not to. But the comment was lost in his throat. Bucky felt sick.

Say something. Please.

Your eyes glance at the silver metal shining between the cuff of his jacket and glove, something shines in your eyes, Bucky’s not quick enough to catch it before you're looking down again. Bucky is now convinced he ruined things on the first day of actually knowing you. He feels like he's going to throw up. Bucky is uncomfortable in his seat and suddenly the fresh warm air of the cafe makes him feel like he's suffocating. He goes to leave and never looks back, but your quicker this time. Grabbing his metal wrist before he gets the chance to stand. Bucky doesn't flinch this time.

“Buck, sit down.” you look at him now. “I don't hate you, calm down.”

He gulps. “You're scared of me though.”

“No.”

Bucky blinks at you, once, twice. “Why. I've killed so many-”

“Don't do that, bucky.” you shook your head at him. “Don't do that to yourself. I'm not dumb, you were a prisoner of war, a victim. You had no choice.”

A victim… he hadn't heard that word be used to describe him.

Bucky's throat goes dry. His leg bounces under the table, he can't look at you. Bucky's eyes dart to the clock. Tick, tick, tick… the door. The other door. He feels trapped.

You whisper, “bucky.”

Your name is the only thing that manages to escape Bucky’s lips. He sniffles, “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Hey, guys! Everything okay over here?”

Emma's cheering voice interrupts Bucky, you both flinch back and your hand retracts from Bucky’s hand. He feels cold. Bucky's cold hand wipes away any extra tears left. You mumble a quick response, and a few thank you’s and she left a muffin in front of you. Bucky hears her footsteps receding. He should have heard her coming up, when did he get so useless? That could have been an enemy and, boom. He's dead.

You push the blueberry muffin in front of bucky. “You like blueberries?” bucky looks at you, the muffin, back to you. Your lips are in a straight line, but your eyes are smiling.

“Plums.”

You were caught off-guard. “What?”

“I like plums.”

You hum in response and split the muffin in two. One for you and one for bucky.

The next hour is mostly silent, bucky ordered a coffee of your recommendation. Well, more like you ordered it for him and guilt-tripped him into drinking it. It was sweet. You ordered another large cup and bucky takes a mental note to make you drink more water in the future. Your hands grasp your coffee and a book, he wants to hold it again. He wonders what it would feel like to hold you, all of you.

He looks at the crossword puzzles you stole from the back for him. How could he possibly do a crossword puzzle when you're sitting in front of him? Bucky would glance up at you and he'd catch you looking at him, he looks away, and vice versa. Bucky is not shy, but sometimes he just gets nervous. How could you not? I mean, just look at you.

Your book falls from your grasp. “I don't want to intrude, but you are my stalker so I think I'm allowed to just a little.” bucky rolls his eyes. Your tone turns more serious “Just tell me if I am intruding though…”

Bucky doesn't respond and lets you speak. You're hoping you are not going into a sensitive area. “How did you get out… is that why you're on the run?”

Bucky inhales sharply. His eyes flutter. A simple no was all he could push out. You don't know bucky well, but the look he's sporting is enough for you to stop asking any more questions.

The clock reads 9:30. Shit.

“Fuck. work, I forgot about work.” you stand from your chair abruptly, the wooden chairs scraping against the floor. “I- we gotta go.”

I have nowhere to go, bucky thinks quickly. Before standing up with you, he doesn't say anything.

Grabbing both of your cups and chucking them in the trash, before returning the books to the counter. Bucky just stands there awkwardly, watching you. You notice and mumble a quick, “stalker” under your breath. Bucky pushes back a small grin. You gab his metal hand, covered by a glove, and push something into his hand. a key?

Bucky's eyebrows furrow but before he can get anything out. “You can't possibly think I’ll feel good knowing my soulmate is out on the run, probably sleeping behind some dumpster like a raccoon?”

“My roommate doesn't get home till tomorrow, and use the door his time!”

And with that, you’re speed-walking out, a soft jingle from the door as it closes. Bucky stands dumbfounded in the middle of the cafe as he blankly stares at the key in his gloved palm. His legs feel like jello. A soft cough from behind bucky brings him back to earth, it's the old man.

“Don't break their heart, I may be old and..” the old man, you said his name was Gary, looks bucky up and down. “...you may be big, but I'm sure I got a good right hook in here somewhere.”

Bucky feels warm and normal. Like he was a 15-year-old boy meeting his date's dad again. Bucky nods.

“I promise I will keep ‘em safe.”

tag list; @i-l-y-3000 @ivywasmaroon @waywardcrow @alana4610 @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fic #sebastian stan #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #sebastian stan x reader

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misty-moth · 4 months

Text

I wanted to write a very fluffy Sasuke fic for Valentine’s, so ~behold~ (ﾉ•ヮ•)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

Divider

Sasuke x reader, ~650 words, fluffy date

You couldn’t say that starting your morning with a feisty Kenshin at your door was your preferred way to wake up… nor could you say it was unusual. You peeked an eye up to meet the grumpy warlord.

“Good morning, Kenshin.”

“Where is my ninja?”

Your brow furrowed, and you reached back to pat the space behind you. Sasuke seemed to have already left for the morning, leaving only a pillow with a spectacled face scribbled on it.

“Hmm, dunno,” you yawned, bringing your fluffy substitute boyfriend up for him to see.

“Hmph. Well tell him each minute he keeps me waiting will be another minute added onto his training.”

You sleepily nodded, not too troubled by Kenshin’s violent affection toward Sasuke. Thankfully Kenshin didn’t seem keen on lingering, and soon you were alone again with your pillow ninja.

It really was strange that Sasuke was m.i.a. this early in the morning. Neither of you had mentioned having plans today, though you had made some treats for the two of you to share if you could manage to get him alone. Maybe he would somehow know to avoid the halls—

The ceiling panel shifted nearly silently, but you reflexively jumped up.

“Sasuke?”

You saw a familiar hand poke down through the ceiling, poised in hand-puppet fashion. The hand spoke thus: “Join me.”

Grabbing on to your beloved dork’s hand, you were hoisted up to join the room’s framework. “Good morning, MC. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.”

“I’m honored to be here my competent and, might I say, rather handsome ninja.”

“Arigato. I’ll need you to follow me on a little trek, if you would.” You watched as he replaced the panel and turned back.

It had been a while since you’d been up here, but you found it was always rather tidy and fairly roomy. You hadn’t crawled for too long before a larger opening presented itself. Around you was a little cozy haven, reds and pinks featured prominently. From the ceiling’s ceiling hung garlands with origami stars trickling down. There were several small paper lanterns placed strategically, illuminating an array of pillows, blankets, sake bottles, and—

“Are those the snacks I made yesterday?” You blinked in confusion, but he nodded stoically.

“I had a feeling Kenshin and I would have differing interpretations of my free time, so I figured I’d need to make set plans. Would you like to go on a date?”

You crawled over into the cozy nest he’d made as an answer and made grabby hands toward him. He crawled over to you before unceremoniously plopping himself onto your chest.

“Oof! Sasuke!” You giggled at the straight face looking up at you, his eyes glittering. You stroked his hair as he snuggled in. Living together had given you both plenty of opportunities for seeing each other, but it was silly moments like this that felt the most blissful.

“Nice digs you’ve got here. Do you have any movies? Popcorn?”

Sasuke tilted his head in contemplation. “May I interest you in some rice crackers? They would normally cost over 400 yen in a theater near you, but I smuggled some in for us. And as for our cinema entertainment…” he cleared his throat. “According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too—“

“Nooo!” You groaned dramatically.

“Not a fan of the classics?” He blinked— wait, no, that was a wink kinda!

You laughed but shook your head. “I’ll need to browse your collection.”

He returned your smile, and dutifully began rattling off as many famous lines as he could. You were keeping pace, and you were honestly proud that you knew at least 80% of the references.

The two of you spent the afternoon together just like that, curled up and gazing up at the ceiling full of stars.

Writing Masterlist

#god i love sasuke #ikesen sasuke #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #sasuke sarutobi #moth’s writing

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cocogrrrl · 10 months

Note

Hiya again! I was wondering if you could write a fic of a gn!s/o and Kenny (teenagers) at a public park, and then some people start insulting and possibly physically hurting the reader, then they look over, kennys gone, and mysterion is kicking the people's asses. I thought it was a cute concept :)

-📌🎀

help arrived

while on a morning walk with kenny, you accidentally find yourself alone and in imminent trouble. luckily for you, mysterion comes to save the day.

mysterion!kenny mccormick x gn!reader cws: descriptions of violence, slight predatory language used wc: 1191

“You think you can help me out this weekend? I really need help picking out a gift for Karen. I have a bunch of different options, but none that I think she’ll like.” Your boyfriend, Kenny, sighed.

Your hand was intertwined with his, and you squeezed his twice to comfort him. “Hmm, I’m not sure I exactly know what she’d like, but I’ll try.” You hummed.

“Thanks,” he smiled, giving you a swift kiss on the head as you two continued your regular stroll in the park—idly minding the sounds of children playing, leaves rattlings, and footsteps on the dirt path.

There were a group of people roughly around your age who you were trying to pass through. They were spread everywhere across the field. You weren’t quite sure what they were there for, but you didn’t pay mind to it. It wasn’t your business anyway.

What was your business was getting through the crowd of people, which proved difficult. Your hand tightly clasped Kenny’s so that you wouldn’t lose him out of your grasp and sight. You felt yourself bump against someone. Your arm’s side hit the person a lot stronger than you initially realized. Despite it, though, you quickly mumbled out a quick sorry before you continued.

“What was that for?” The gravelly and angered voice yelled out. You turn to see who it was—the person you crashed into just now.

“It was an accident—I’m sorry-” You stammered out quickly, nervousness rising inside of you. The person honestly towered over your height, and it didn’t help that they seemed rather strong.

“Sorry? I’m sure you meant it! No person would just push someone like that by accident.” The guy argued, taking footsteps closer to you as a crowd slowly started to build around you. “I’m sure you wanted to hurt me.”

“I didn’t! I was just trying to make my way across here with my boyfriend and—”

“What boyfriend?” The person, and even the crowd watching you, started to laugh uproariously. You were confused, but as soon as you turned to see where Kenny was, he was gone.

You were sent in a panic now. A bunch of people seemed to be thinking you were delusional when really it wasn’t the case. So many eyes on you, and you couldn’t help yourself here—not unless you wanted things to worsen by a probable tenfold.

“You’re so funny. Let’s have more fun,” The guy laughed, grabbing you by the color as you suddenly felt your legs lift from the air.

Agh, why did you even decide to pass by this place? Sure, you didn’t know that there were people just waiting to pick on someone, but you could’ve just taken a better route. Where was Kenny as well? Maybe he went ahead and hadn’t realized that you were missing yet. I mean, you wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t realize you lost Kenny’s hand, even if you clung onto it for dear life earlier.

Why are you, of all people, chosen to be picked on today? What events, circumstances, and god would let you be in this situation? Whatever the case was before all this, you knew only one thing now: you were about to be fucking grilled by these people, weren’t you? The grip on your collar only got tighter, even digging into your skin.

You couldn’t fight back, no way. You could only accept your fate in a situation like this. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself to meet with the guy’s fist or something.

It never came though.

Instead, you felt your body drop to the grassy floor as you opened your eyes to see the man being pulled onto the ground, losing his grip on your completely.

As soon as your body hit the floor, you quickly shuffled back onto your feet as fast as you could. Your legs hurt because of the sudden impact, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. What you saw was a lot more surprising, though.

Your boyfriend Kenny, er, the town-respected vigilante Mysterion, was on top of the person who picked on you earlier, beating him into the ground. He didn’t control the fight, though, seeing how the guy was fighting back triumphantly, blowing punches underneath him.

You stood there, taking a few steps back from the scene. The crowd around you now had eyes on Mysterion, all attention away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you know how stupid you look in your costume?” The person choked out, kicking him from under and sending Mysterion grabbing his side as they now flipped him—taking the upper hand now. “You’re such a fucking weirdo.”

Kenny knew better than to reply, though. He stayed quiet as much as possible, despite how much the person tried provoking him to say some nasty things about them as well. He elbowed the person’s chin, sending them flying for a split second before they hit the ground.

Expectedly to you, though, Mysterion got the final punch, delivering a blow to the cheek. Steadying himself back on his feet, he let a huff out as he wiped off some blood spilling out of his mouth. “I’m sure it was an accident. I know a person as wonderful as YN would never dare hurt anyone.”

Right after that, he lit up a set of fireworks and threw it on the ground, swiftly sweeping you off your feet and carrying you away, bridal style, to an empty space. He laid you back onto the ground in the quiet area, looking at you worriedly as if you were the one who was hurt right now—not him.

“Are you okay?” He sighed, pulling down his cloak and mask.

“I should be asking you that,” You laughed, getting on your knees to meet eye-to-eye with him. “You look like hell.”

“Only for you.” Kenny smiled.

“Thanks, Ken.” You said, burying your face in the crook of your neck. The adrenaline of the situation started to wear off, and soon enough, you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. ”I’m sorry I got lost back there.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, pulling your head back up to look at him. “It’s not your fault, yeah? What matters most right now is that we’re both alright.”

“Well, you aren’t!” You cried out, pointing to the bruises all over his face. “You just got beaten up.”

“YN, if you were the one to get jumped earlier, I’m sure you’d look a hundred times worse than I do right now. I would never forgive myself if that happened.” He pouted, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Just… I’m alright, and I’m sure these wounds will go away in no time.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You exchanged a grin with him, bringing a hand to caress the one holding you right now. “Okay. Thank you, pretty.” You mumbled against his cheek before giving him a brief peck there.

His face flushed at the action, though you couldn’t see it since you had buried your face in the crook of his neck once more after. “Always, honey.”

#cocogrrrl's writing #south park fanfiction #south park x reader #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mcormick x reader

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champagnepodiums · 10 months

Text

Some Early(ish) Thoughts on the whole Alex Palou Contract Situation™️

I am dumping the thoughts that have been percolating in my head all weekend about the situation here, hopefully it’ll all make sense but cohesiveness is not generally my strong suit but these are the things that have stuck out most to me so far about the whole situation:

The Inciting Incident: I think it’s REALLY interesting that an internal e-mail from Zak Brown somehow just magically managed to make its way to Jenna Fryer who ofc did her due diligence and wrote about it. The telling? thing to me though was that Nathan Brown from IndyStar was very quickly (like I think it was within an hour or two) able to confirm the story. On a Friday evening 🙃. Like it doesn’t seem like a far stretch to assume that McLaren wanted to establish this story to reflect favorably for them.

The Concept of Loyalty in Motorsports: This whole situation has sparked lots of discourse and it is interesting (and frustrating) that people on Twitter at least, already seem to be siding with McLaren and slamming Alex Palou for not being loyal but really — why should he? He is the hottest prospect in motorsports right now and if McLaren has failed to provide things they have allegedly promised (F1 opportunities and a comparable IndyCar program), why does Alex owe them his loyalty? (I am talking specifically about loyalty here). If teams can break contracts, why can’t drivers?

The babygirlification of Alex Palou and why I admire him through this: okay like it is very humorous that the smiliest driver on the grid is the one causing trouble but people are acting like just because he’s outwardly smiley, there’s no way that he can actually be apart of this and make no mistake, both can exist at once. I think all racing drivers at the top level have to be a certain degree of ruthless and I think Alex Palou is just willing to bet on himself and ruffle feathers in the process to get the best deal for himself. I personally think that it’s admirable, I mean, he is the one strapping himself into a deathmobile so like why should he be stuck with Zak Brown’s promises that I don’t think he really had much intention on completely following through with (see Pato’s F1 deal lmao)

Chip Ganassi Issued the Statement Against McLaren because He Saw An Opportunity to Be Petty and He Couldn’t Resist: The Race published an article that basically was like “Is it fair to McLaren that Chip Ganassi called them out but didn’t call Alex Palou out because this is his fault” and that’s stupid for so many reasons. Like did Chip really have to make a statement? Probably not. But was he going to pass up an opportunity to say some mean shit about his nemesis? No lol. But also it makes absolutely no sense for CGR to slam Alex Palou, especially if all of this means that he will stay?

We Actually Don’t Know What is Going On: There was a lot of speculation and opinions from everybody over the weekend about the situation (most of which I cover above) and I think something we should keep it mind is that all we know at this moment is Zak Brown’s version of events (the ex-management company too but uh, I don’t trust anything they say so). There is still so much that we don’t know so while speculation is fine, I think completely writing off Alex Palou should be avoided — it’s honestly probably what Zak Brown wants everybody to do.

I think that sums up what I’ve had rattling around in my brain. I’m up for discussing this whole situation so feel free to send your thoughts my way 🫶🫶🫶

#indycar #alex palou #shout out to the discord for talking through it with me

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radiokathryn-if · 6 months

Note

Hola amigo (amiga). It’s me again. I’m in class, slaving away my life and with my newfound brain juices, I decided to spend it on something worthwhile like expanding your own brain juices.

The ROs decided to play Monopoly (because that’s where brain power works more effectively). Who loves it, who hates it, how do they play, and who ultimately wins against one another? Also, have a good day (or night depending on when this is.)

Hello friend! Just for you and your slaving brain power, I shall gift you with a little bonus!──long answer! +I just finished cooking(&eating) supper so it has indeed been a good night lmao, I hope you have one too! ++I may have way too much fun trivia about monopoly just rattling around in my head, so I apologise if I start rambling! +++also! I'm acting as if they're all playing together... which would never happen but is still fun to think about!

Which little mascot token thing do they choose/get/fight for/end up with?──in 1972 there was only: the shoe, the hat, the dog, the iron, the car and the boat... so I've added more such as the thimble, the lantern (retired in 1950) and the rocking horse (retired 1950)

NATE──is picky and also very narcissistic, he has to pick first and he always gets the dog (a yorkshire terrier!) because it's "objectively the best one" no one really objects because they don't want to deal with his whining.

EVA──she always gets the lantern. when she's not at the table to claim it first, it's gets set aside for her. unlike with Nate, everyone else lets her have it because she simply asks nicely. Eva just thinks it's pretty─she calls it her good luck charm! (she has a nice winning streak!)

MICA──does not care for their token at all, and is usually the last to gain it, often getting the one no one went for or wanted... which mostly ends up being the iron... Mica thinks it's rad though so they don't mind!

DETECTIVE HAN──doesn't really play board games and is subsequently a bit slow to the battle royale of the token picking... they end up with the shoe because it's only of the only two left and they'd rather not pick the iron...

JOSÉ──they're not going down without a fight! they are pretty competitive, especially when it comes to board or card games─curtesy of their many siblings─and they will bargain for the token of their choosing... which is the the thimble... but they usually lose out to Ji Han, in which they fight Fauve for the boat!

JI HAN──he wins the thimble from José but he only goes for the thimble if the the plane is gone and considering its the one token lost to the void, well...

FAUVE──she watches José and Ji Han fight it out for the thimble with glee and then when José sets their sights on her and the boat its quickly wiped away... she knows when to take her losses and resigns the boat to them after she can feel a ten minute debate forming, leaving her with the car!

JACKSON──used to picking last when playing board games, though most times Cilly just gives him a token she seems fit... he'd end up with the hat (a top hat!) because even though he doesn't particularly care, he's still quicker than Mica or Detective Han to scoop up one of his favourites!

???──they like most of the tokens and are usually the first to pick, in actuality, they're the one who set aside the lantern for Eva and make the dog easy to see for Nate to claim 'first' after which they swoop in and collect the rocking horse! much like Eva, the token is a bit of a good luck charm for them─the only time they've ever gone bankrupt was when they were playing with the boat instead!

actual game play! who loves it, who hates it, who's winner and who's a sore sore loser baby?

Nate says he likes monopoly but he is quick to change his mind as soon as he loses his money... honestly, if he didn't fixate on the money side of things and strategise like i know he can he'd probably give Eva, ??? and Ji Han a run for their money! (sore sore loser, losing loser baby, sore loser baby)

Like most things outside of her personal life, Eva stays winning. She loves strategy games and she's very good at interpersonal tactics (and she doesn't get greedy or blind sided by fake money.) She's on a winning streak... but there are a couple that give her a run for her money! (somehow she always manages to get one or both dark blue's on her first circle of the board...)

The ever unbothered Mica could honestly care less about monopoly──that is to say that they get surprisingly intense around two thirds in! Something about monopoly specifically ignites the competitive fire under them. They're strangely protective of the train stations and the utilities. They always somehow end up going bankrupt though, and sell out to Eva or Ji Han (or ???) depending on who can give them the most appealing sales pitch... Mica just likes hearing what they'll come up with!

Detective Han is a baby at playing board games... that aren't chess or checkers that is. The first time they play they're too caught up in the rules to realise all the spaces are slowly being taken up. The next time they buy every space they land on and were the first to go bankrupt so quickly in a while! They're a bit of a rules lawyer but have since mellowed out to enjoying the game without getting worked up about losing.

José is competitive and they love a classic board game. Playing with their siblings, they're known to be one of the winners more often than not... playing with the other ROs? That's a whole different ball park─a whole different weight category! Especially with brilliant players like Eva, Ji Han and ??? (when they're in the mood to win)! José can admit when they're out of their depth but that doesn't mean they aren't going to go down without a fight. They're the most... involved player, often propositioning places or money with literally anyone if they can see it coming out advantageous for them. (Not many of their propositions are accepted, though some are for the sheer audacity and the entertainment value they bring!)

As opposed to his older sibling, Ji Han is actully quite well versed in the ways of the game... Given that he's only played it while half drunk in university halls at 3 in the morning while they wait out for a 5am lecture... playing it with the rest of the ROs is only a little different. (that and he plays with a clear mind and thus remembers the rules and can get into the manipulation tactics!) He's won almost as many times as Eva has, and it's usually the two of them as the final two! He's a gracious loser, even if he's a bit of a show off winner (that's mainly spurned on by Eva's taunting and the final overcoming of her as an opponent.)

Fauve has a competitive streak in her, but it's mainly for bragging rights. She actively tries hard to beat at the very least José and then sets her sights on Ji Han. (The sexual tension between them when she does is quite, palpable... if the teasing barbs and lingering looks are anything to go by) She has yet to win over Eva though and is hedging her bets on a team up with The Trio as a means to an end. (She loves the bragging rights... is winning bragging rights over Eva in monopoly of all things super important? Yes. She already reigns supreme in Uno, this is the next step in her bragging rights empire!! She's up for the challenge!)

Jackson is an easygoing run of the mill average player. He's used to going easy at these kinds of games since most of his experience playing them is with his daughter and her friends... That being said, Jackson is an excellent banker! He's very strict about the money, especially after they found out that Nate was sneaking money when he would designate himself as banker! He bankrupts quite early, but his heart nor his pride is hurt by it, he takes losing like a winner!

Secret mastermind, ???. They're actively the best at playing the game however, they don't have the competitive flare or heart to actively secure more than third place. However, when ??? is in a competitive mood, or a mischievous mood (or just wanting to impress a certain MC or Eva) then all the cards are down and all the bets are off!

bonus round! common team ups!

Eva and ??? are unstoppable when they're both playing together and playing to win! Not that a team up trio of Ji Han, Fauve and José won't give them a run for their money. Nate refuses to team up with any of them, not like they're dropping everything to offer. Mica is a lone island of overconfidence and chilled cockyness... (MC over their shoulder like an angel(or devil) during a poker game...) In a shocking turn of events, Detective Han and Jackson team up as Rules Lawyer and Banker after they declare bankruptcy and are kind of terrorfying to defy... which leads to people trying to loophole their way through the game and providing many moments of laughter inducing entertainment!

lmao i started this at like 8pm... it's taken me like 8 hours to finish and if that doesn't tell you what my mental states been like then idk what will

#radio kathryn if #long post #fun fact monopoly has a 1972 edition (which is the setting of this if!) but it only had a few mascots lmao #another fun fact──monopoly was invented in 1903 but only came to england in 1936!#also monopoly was created by lizzie magie who was in fact a woman #thank you m'lady #all ros #c: nate nicks #c: eva vidal #c: mica hollens #c: detective han #c: josé danger #c: ji han #c: fauve #c: jackson lewis #c: ???

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autumnshighlady · 2 years

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 2)

NESTA ARCHERON X FEMALE!READER (future Neris x reader)

summary: The day after the disastrous dinner, you and Nest have a talk.

warnings: MAJOR inner circle slander, if you love Feysand and will defend them please do not read this fic for your own sanity, angst, VIOLENCE, gore, flashbacks, implied SA jokes, trauma, literally so much sadness i cried writing

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: here it is, part 2! I’m so excited for this fic, I have so many ideas. It’s getting longer and longer in my head so y’all are in for a treat! As always, if you cannot handle some anti Feysand and Inner Circle discourse then I would advise you not to read this and cause drama!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinons, im more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

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You slept fitfully that night, the events of dinner swirling around your brain. The clash of silver and violet eyes haunted your thoughts, memories of the tense atmosphere barring your mind from rest.

Part of you wished that the Night Court had entirely lived up to its reputation of cruelty, that the High Lord had just thrown you in a cell the second you were healed. You hated the politics and scheming, the fancy dinners where it was expected you had to fall to your knees and thank them for their generosity, then provide whatever they asked in return. Even Lucien was just a pawn in their games, whatever they were playing at.

And whatever it was, you vowed you wouldn’t stick around long enough to get too involved.

Nesta wasn’t at breakfast, nor did she show up for lunch. Throughout the day, you realized that you had gotten used to the female’s presence over the past few months. The space around you felt empty and lifeless, as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. But you gave her space for the first half of the day, knowing she was rattled by last night.

But you could not ignore that gnawing worry in the pit of your stomach. You were aware that if Nesta had her way, she would shut out everyone completely, but destroy herself in the process. When the sun set over the mountains in the distance, you decided to knock on her door.

“Nesta?” You said, rapping your knuckles on the wood.

No answer came, but you knew she was in there, as if you could sense her presence. Slowly, you turned the knob on the door and it clicked open, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. If Nesta truly hadn’t wanted you to come in, the door would have been locked. So you carefully entered the room.

The eldest Archerons sister was sitting on her bed, resting against the headboard with her arms around her knees. The coronet braid had half fallen out, leaving loose strands of hair waving down her neck and shoulders. Her eyes showed no signs of the silver fire, only emptiness. She did not even turn her head to acknowledge you, just continued to stare blankly at the empty fireplace. The room was ice cold, so you grabbed a blanket from the chair and walked over. Wordlessly, you sat down next to her, tossing the blanket over her legs.

“When Feyre and Tamlin returned from Under the Mountain, there was a dinner to celebrate their victory.” You said quietly. “My family was invited. I remember sitting at the dining table, surrounded by food and music. Everyone was celebrating, except your sister. She tried, I’ll give her that, but even I could tell she was miserable. And who could blame her? We were all told what happened in that place, what she had to go through. She was wasting away when she got back to Spring, and when Tamlin locked her up I honestly couldn’t blame her for wanting to get away.”

Nesta blinked once, her only acknowledgement at your words.

“None of us could fathom why she wanted to stay in the Night Court, though.” You continued. “We had heard loud and clear what Rhysand did to her under the mountain, how he twisted her broken arm to force her to make that deal. How he drugged her almost every night and made her dance like a whore for him to piss off Tamlin. I understand that he had a role to play to survive, I cannot blame him for that. But what he did to your sister went beyond that, and none of us understood why she would willingly seek sanctuary with him unless he was forcing her to. That’s why Tamlin went after her so persistently, why he made that alliance with Hybern.

“We were furious, and scared. Tamlin risked our lives just to try and get your sister back by opening up his doors to Hybern. She was worth it to him, but not for us. We never asked for it, but we paid the price. We were forced to live amongst them, tiptoeing around in fear that one wrong look at a Hybern soldier and we’d lose our heads. When Feyre returned to Spring with Tamlin, we had hope again. Hope that, whatever had happened between her and Tamlin, she would maybe try to protect us, the innocent people who asked for no part in this war.”

Your throat closed up. You coughed once, clearing it as you prepared to delve into the most painful parts of your memory.

“But we were wrong,” You continued. “Feyre had no intention of helping anyone in Spring, merely getting back at the High Lord. A few days after Feyre’s return, I was at the manor helping my father collect reports when I overheard a conversation between the priestess, your sister, and Tamlin. That was when I found out what had been done to you and Elain, how Ianthe had given you two to Hybern to be turned into Fae. Believe me, I was happy when Ianthe returned from a stroll in the woods with a shattered hand.

“We felt better when Feyre was back. Tamlin had gotten what he wanted, and Feyre seemed like the type of female who would defend innocent people. For a moment, I thought that maybe the two of them would be able to find a way around Hybern’s agreement, and stop them from taking over the continent. But we were wrong. Feyre valued her vengeance, which I respect. But Tamlin wasn’t the one who paid the price for it, like she wanted him to. She could not separate the people of Spring Court from their leader who had wronged her. It was us who were slaughtered, whose leader was so broken that he did not even try to fight for us. And when things got bad, after Feyre was satisfied that she had torn the Spring Court apart, she ran right back to the safety of Rhysand’s arms.”

A tear fell down your cheek, plopping onto the soft blanket. You weren’t sure how much Nesta knew of your story, how much Lucien or Cassian had told her. Hell, you weren’t even sure about how much she knew about Under the Mountain, based on the way she stiffened when you mentioned what Rhysand had done. Taking a deep breath, you continued.

“The waiting was the worst part. Once we found out what Feyre had done, we knew we were vulnerable. Hybern soldiers went from village to village, slaughtering and pillaging. They left ours for last. We could not run, we had nowhere to go. So we could only wait, sitting there for the other shoe to drop. After a week, they came in the middle of the night. My mother rushed into my room, shaking me awake. I could hear the screams outside, the sounds of swords piercing flesh. But my mother was calm as ever. She stroked my hair and kissed my forehead, telling me how much she loved me. She—”

Your chest heaved in an attempt to contain your sobs. Dragging each word out was like running a knife along an open wound, and every instinct told you to stop, to repress it and never think about it again, but you kept going. For some reason, you felt like Nesta needed to hear it, needed to know that she was not alone in her struggles.

“She gave me a small vial with clear liquid and told me to drink it,” You said. “I asked her why, and she said it would make everything go away. I knew it was poison, aimed to bring a quick but painless death. My mother knew that there was no escaping the Hybern massacre, no way we could get out of it. So she wanted me to die in the easiest way possible, to save me from the suffering that was bound to await me if I lived. So I gulped it down, trying not to cry as she hugged me one last time before grabbing a knife from the kitchen and storming out into the clearing where the fighting was.

“I should have stayed in my room. But I crept out after her a few minutes later, wanting to see if anyone I knew was escaping. I peeked out the window, and saw my mother standing over my father’s lifeless body, kitchen knife in hand. I barely recognized him – half his leg was missing, his face so covered in gore it may have been impossible to identify him if not for the broach on his jacket from Tamlin. My mother swung the knife blindly, screaming in rage. She did not know how to fight, but she tried. I saw as they sliced her chest open, laughing as her blood coated their uniforms. I vomited, which was my biggest mistake. Some of the poison had worked its way into my system, enough to make me groggy. But the rest of the dose I had thrown up, losing my chance at a peaceful death.

“A Hybern soldier heard me, and broke into our house with my mother’s blood still staining his hands. They leered as they beat me bloody, arguing over who would get first turn with me. I begged the Mother to kill me swiftly, so I wouldn’t have to endure their torture. They used their first and their knives, laughing like it was a game. Before they could kill me, I heard a vicious scream. My best friend, Sapphyra, had burst into the room looking for me. She was being trained as a sentry, so she knew how to fight. She didn’t hesitate before swinging her sword at the Hybern soldiers, killing one swiftly before luring them out of the house. I couldn’t speak, if I could I’d have begged her not to do something so reckless. But she lured them out of the house, and they forgot about me. I could hear her, she fought like a lion against them, but there were too many. Through the hole in the wall, I saw as they swarmed her like flies, ripping her head off her body and putting it on a spike. Then everything faded to black, and I woke up in the Night Court.”

You felt thin fingers gently graze your hand, as. Inhaling deeply, you looked down and saw Nesta’s hand gently covering your own. She said nothing, just placed her hand on yours. You almost crumbled apart right then and there at the tenderness from the female who was said to be cold as ice.

“I do not know what happened between you and your sister,” You said carefully. “But I lost everything, everyone, because she decided to take revenge on an entire court for the actions of two fae. I cannot stomach the sight of her sitting here happily, on a mountain of wealth and surrounded by people who have told her that she deserves to be High Lady, after what she did to me and my people. I cannot tolerate being judged by them all just because I am from Spring Court. If she wants to hate Tamlin, fine, but when she looks at me all she sees is him. Just because the only crime I committed was residing in his court.”

You didn’t expect Nesta to say anything. You weren’t sure where she stood with her sister, if she’d try and justify her actions. But the female turned her gaze towards you for the first time – there was still some emptiness to her eyes, but something else was written across her features.

“I am sorry,” She said. “I did not know. Any of that, frankly. All Cassian told me was that you were Lucien’s friend from the Spring Court, we presumed you had gotten injured going off on your own.”

Despite the pain in your chest, you laughed heartlessly. “Of course they conveniently left out the details,” You snorted. “Can’t have people knowing the consequences of their High Lady’s actions.”

“They seem to do that a lot.” Nesta said bitterly.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself to be lashed out at for what you were about to say. “Nesta, what happened?”

She tensed again beside you, and you prepared to be told to fuck off, that it wasn’t your business. You could tell she contemplated it for a split second, but then her gaze softened as she looked at you.

“The Inner Circle hates me for a number of reasons,” She began. “When we were young, my father made a stupid business move and we lost all our fortune. The creditors ransacked our place and forced us to move into a small cottage. Soon after more came and broke my father’s leg in front of us and left him crippled. We had no money, no support. So when Feyre was 14, she went into the woods and started hunting for us. It’s what kept us from starvation. I did nothing to stop her, but neither did Elain, which the Night Court seems to forget. I didn’t want her to hunt, I wanted us to starve, to force our useless father to do something to try and save us, rather than sit in his cot all day. I hated him with every fiber of my being, but Feyre kept hunting.

“But somehow, everyone forgets who prepared the food Feyre caught. Who washed the clothes, kept the cottage tidy and running. Feyre never cooked, she can barely heat up soup. I planned to marry myself off, to lighten the burden for the rest of my family. But then Feyre killed that fae wolf, and Tamlin took her away. I was so confused as to why nobody remembered it, then I realized it was some sort of magic that hadn’t worked on me. We got our fortune back, thanks to Tamlin, and one of the first things I did was hire a merchant to take me into the woods. I tried to find Feyre, I would have offered myself in her place, but we never got through the wall.

“And then somehow we got dragged into all this faerie shit. I was forced to become fae, and then sent here to adjust. I spent my entire time trying to make sure Elain didn’t fling herself off the mountainside. She was so miserable, a shell of who she was before. The inner circle gave her as much time to adjust as she needed, but they never extended the same courtesy to me.”

Nesta laughed bitterly. “I don’t need to tell you about what happened in the War. I’m sure you already know. After it was over, everyone acted like everything was fine. Elain became her perky, delicate self again and the celebrations began. But I did not want to celebrate, it did not feel like a victory. My father died, knowing I hated him and he still tried to protect me and tell me he loved me. There was so much death that day, so many families torn apart and they acted like nothing happened.

“I got my own place, a slummy house outside the city. Feyre and Rhys paid for it. I would have, if I had my own money, but I didn’t. I suspect when my father died his wealth went right into their pockets, when some of it should have gone to me. I started drinking and fucking my way around Velaris. Nobody checked up on me, even Elain, even though I spent weeks glued to her side because I was so afraid for her. When I was checked on, it was at those ridiculous dinners they hosted, where I was watched like a hawk. Amren asked about my powers at every opportunity, as if I hadn’t given enough already. They treated me like a ticking time bomb, so I became one. They’ve all had 500 years to learn how to cope with war. I had months before they decided my drinking and whoring was too much. They staged an intervention, and offered me a ‘choice’. I could go to the human lands, or train at the House of Wind with Cassian.”

“But fae are persecuted and killed in the human lands,” You said. “It would be a death sentence.”

“Trust me, they were well aware of that.” Nesta laughed bitterly. “While they intervened, Elain helped pack up my house. They seized it from me, and I was forced to come here. I never wanted to learn how to fight. There are other ways to heal, to be strong. But my way of healing was too embarrassing, too ugly for them. I didn’t spend hours poetically gazing out a window in silence like Elain. So now I’m stuck here, a discarded thing they didn’t want to deal with.”

Nesta’s eyes were glazed with tears, and you couldn’t tell if you were going to be sick or go on a murderous rampage. Mor and Cassian consumed 8 bottles of wine together at dinner last night, and you didn’t doubt that the Illyrians spent much of their younger years fucking everything in sight. They’ve all done what Nesta did, yet she was being punished for it. You wanted to scream in frustration, let the world know what the leaders of this court put Nesta through.

“We have to get out of here.” You murmured. “We can’t stay locked up in this place.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere.”

Nesta snorted humourlessly. “A nice sentiment,” She said. “But neither of us is making it down those steps. Even if we did, we wouldn’t get far.”

“We’d need help.” You said, picking at a string on the blanket.

Nesta sighed and relaxed back into the pillows, abandoning her defensive crouched position. Her arm brushed yours as she laid back, sending tingles up your skin – it was like being touched with a melody of ice and fire, mixed together.

“As much as you claim to be friends with Lucien, I doubt he’d risk his neck like that to save you.” She pointed out, tipping her head back. “He’s mated to Elain after all, if he thought helping us would put her in danger, all his friendship with you would go out the window, I promise.”

You winced. She was right, as much as you loved Lucien as your best friend, he was a mated male now. You didn’t know how it felt to be mated, but you had heard of other’s experiences. As much as Lucien would want to help you, he wouldn’t risk putting Elain in harm's way. Suddenly, an idea struck you.

“What about his brother, Eris?” You asked, leaning back to rest your neck against the pillows like Nesta had. She turned her head to face you.

“Seriously?” She asked.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, turning your head towards her as well. Your faces were only a foot apart, but you tried not to think about that. “The Night Court hates him. Who better to help us than someone Rhysand cannot stand?”

“Who says he will even help? Do you even know him?”

“Sort of. I spent some time in Autumn visiting Lucien. Out of all his brothers, Eris was the only one who treated me like a living creature, not an object. He was decent and respectable enough.”

You left out the part about the massive crush you had developed on your best friend’s older brother over the years, how you got butterflies every time that cold gaze would soften for a split second when he saw you wandering about the Autumn Court.

“I haven’t heard good things about him,” Nesta said bitterly. “Feyre says he left Mor to die in the woods after they were supposed to be engaged.”

“And Feyre probably tells other courts that you’re an ungrateful whore who is trying to steal from her and Rhysand to make them look bad,” You scoffed. “And that I’m some spy from the Spring Court who is planning the murder of all Night Court babies. So I think it’s safe to say that if they’re wrong about us, they may be wrong about Eris too.”

You felt Nesta flinch at your words, wondering if maybe you had gone too far. But she did not snap back, or get angry with you. She simply sighed, blinking once. Her hair was falling into her face, disheveled as opposed to its usual neat braid. You liked it, the messiness that made her look more relaxed rather than on edge, waiting to strike at whoever glanced the wrong way. There was a softness to her that you were seeing, a cold heart being thawed like the snow on the first day of spring.

“He may only help just to make us a part of whatever game he’s playing and use us against the Night Court.” Nesta warned, looking into your eyes.

“I know,” You said softly. “I cannot deny that he is unpredictable and scheming. But it’s a better alternative than being stuck here having to bend to your sister and her mate’s every whim.”

Silence overcame the room for a moment, as if Nesta was contemplating her choices. It was easy for you to decide which option you’d take, you had no personal ties to the Night Court’s inner circle. But Nesta did – as much as she and her sisters were not on good terms, at the end of the day you knew she still loved them in her own way.

“How would we do it?” She asked after a few seconds. “I doubt we can send him a letter and ask him to drop by without Rhysand or his dogs finding out.”

“We do exactly as they tell us to.” You began carefully. “You train with Cassian, I’ll tell them what they want to hear. We make them see what they want to see – a good female who heals the way they want by training into a warrior, and a Spring Court female who is so grateful for their hospitality they will do anything they ask. Then maybe, we’ll find out what they’re playing at. Once they let us in on everything, or you at least, we have a much better chance of seeing Eris. If Lucien is to be believed, they’re working with him on something.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not their little puppet sent to coerce me into obeying them?” She hissed.

You would have believed the venom in her voice to be serious, if not for the gleam in her gray eyes and the slight twitch of her lips.

“You have figured me out, Nesta Archeron.” You sighed dramatically. “I actually am Rhysand’s personal spy. Darn, you got me.”

She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. It was like a breeze through an old forest, mystical and echoing. For the first time since you had met her, that laugh was genuine.

“We appeared as quite a united front at dinner,” Nesta pointed out. “They’ll be suspicious if we suddenly go along with everything.”

You hummed, contemplating for a moment. “Maybe we can pretend to fight. Some time when Cassian or Azriel is here since they’ll definitely go telling everyone else about it. We keep our distance from each other, at least when they have eyes on us.”

Those slate coloured eyes that were normally like chips of ice looked saddened momentarily. “I don’t want to do that.” She admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t either,” You choked out. “But we can’t raise any suspicions.”

Without thinking, you reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind Nesta’s ear. She did not flinch, or harden her gaze. She just kept staring at you, looking sad.

“How will we make our plans then?” Nesta asked. “I doubt Azriel is Rhysand’s spymaster for nothing.”

“The books,” You said after thinking for a moment. We leave notes for each other in the books. Smutty romance ones that Azriel wouldn’t be caught dead picking up.”

Nesta chuckled again, and your heart fluttered. Mother above, you could get used to hearing that sound.

“Alright.” She said, “I’m in.”

“We will get through this.” You promised, grabbing her hand. “The next few weeks will be shit. I’ve grown rather used to your company, but if we want out of here we have to be smart.”

“Then we begin tomorrow.” Nesta said. “But could you maybe… stay here for the night? If we have to act like we don’t like each other in the next while…”

Her words trailed off, but you knew what she meant. From the way she averted her gaze, you could tell she felt silly asking this of you. So you gently stroked the back of her hand with your thumb.

“Of course.” You said.

Wordlessly, you got up and grabbed your nightgown from your room, giving Nesta time to change into hers. When you returned to her room, she was settling underneath the covers. You blew out the candle and crawled into the space next to her, laying your head onto the soft pillows. For a minute, the two of you laid there in the dark, facing each other and saying nothing.

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was quiet.

“Yes?” You replied, already drowsy with sleep.

“I’m glad you are here.”

“Me too.”

***************

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