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scoonsalicious · 1 month

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Chapter 6, Unattached - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, angst (Bring on the Pain!), alcohol usage, dumbass Bucky, noncon kissing that becomes con kissing, so..., arguing, jealous!Pocket, posessive!Bucky.

Word Count: 5.4k

Previously On...: After Bucky left you alone in your room, not wanting people to get 'the wrong idea' about the two of you, you came to the horrible conclusion that you were in love with your best friend. What the hell are you going to do about that?

A/N: Wow, okay! So, first off, Chapter 6 is long, and it only has the one part, so don't worry if you go looking for more and the next thing you find is Chapter 7! Second, there's a lot of progress and updates on Unwanted I wanted to share! I am already well into writing Chapter 14, and have planned out the rest of the story. We'll have a total of 25 chapters, plus an epilogue (unless something strikes me creatively that throws the entire thing for a loop, then all bets are off). This beast, as it currently sits, is already 208 Google Docs pages long and just shy of 80k words, so final product is probably going to be novel-length, which just blows my mind. I want to give a special shout out to @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for being my beta and my sounding board; your help and support has been immeasurable!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief

You stood in front of the doors to the common room, the low thrum of conversation and music filtering out from inside. Taking a deep breath, you tried for the umpteenth time to calm your nerves following your unsettling realization.

You had no idea how to approach this, how to approach Bucky. Do you tell him how you felt, in the hope that he felt the same way? But what if he didn't? Could you risk losing him all together? Or do you just keep on like nothing's changed, happy with what you have together? Would that be enough for you? Could you even be happy in a real relationship?

Why couldn't your mother have just been a decent human being and let you go to school like a normal child so you could have worked through all your awkward issues at the appropriate time, instead of saddling you with years of trauma and isolation that left you an emotionally stunted adult? God, you needed a strong drink and to talk to Nat, preferably in that order. Pushing open the common room door, you stepped inside, surveying the room with one eye out for Bucky, the other out for your friend.

It should have been of no surprise, then, that instead of either, you first spotted Jade Carthage. She was situated on a couch in the center of the room, like a queen on her throne before her court, and nearly every Avenger and agent with a penis was surrounding her, jockeying for her attention, even Clint who, you knew for a fact, loved his wife Laura more than life itself.

Your stomach dropped when, after one of the agents in front of the couch shifted slightly, you saw Bucky sitting immediately to Jade's left. And while it seemed like everyone else was clamoring for Jade to pay attention to them, she only had eyes for him. Jealousy coursed through you as she leaned in close, whispering something into his ear that had him throwing his head back in laughter. It was an entirely unpleasant sensation that you would be happy to never feel again. Especially because you knew you had no real right to feel it in the first place. You may have just realized you were in love with him, but he had made no similar declaration to you.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself. It was like she could read your mind.

Nat shrugged. "So long as I'm not the one cleaning up the mess, I say have fun. But what happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

Nat's eyes widened as a grin took over her face. "Honey, that's fantastic!" She leaned in to give you a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" Taking in your forlorn expression, she quickly lost her good humor. "Why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

You cast another glance over at the couch. Jade was tracing her fingers along the golden veins of Bucky's vibranium arm and you felt like snakes were crawling through your stomach. "Because I don't know what the fuck to do about it, Natty," you told her with a sigh. "I've never felt like this before in my entire life and it's fucking terrifying; what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he does and I mess everything up because I'm so fucking damaged inside?"

Natasha looped her arm through yours, leaning into you. "Honey, first of all, you are not damaged. You've been through hell and it left its mark on you, that's true, but you've been so strong. We're House Martell, remember?"

You sniggered, remembering how, when the entire Tower was obsessed with watching Game of Thrones together and picking what houses you'd each belong to, you and Nat had been drawn to the words of the ruling house of Dorne. And also, Pedro Pascal, obviously.

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," you recited from memory, a reminder that despite the obstacles life had thrown at you, you remained standing, stronger for what you had endured.

"Atta girl," Nat nudged you with her elbow. "And second of all, you don't need to worry about Bucky's feelings. Boy's obviously mad for you. Everyone can see it."

You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. "I don't know, Nat. He's been acting strange lately. I tried to give him head earlier and he flat out rejected it." Come to think of it, that was exceptionally weird since, in your text exchange, he'd explicitly told you he'd been waiting in your room specifically for the purpose of getting off.

"Huh. That's... not like him." Nat tilted her head and looked over at Bucky, expression curious. "Did he say why?"

"He was real eager to come up here and get in the middle of that, apparently." You waved a hand in the general direction of the couch where Jade's little reverse-harem was still going strong. "I was getting on my knees and everything."

Nat raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"And then he made a really big deal about us coming up here separately. Said he didn't want people getting 'the wrong idea' about us if we arrived together."

Letting go of your arm, Natasha spun to face you, her face a mask of anger. "He said what now?!" she practically shouted, temporarily drawing everyone's attention to you. You looked around sheepishly as you tried to dismiss their stares.

"Nat," you begged in a whisper, "keep it down."

"Okay, okay, sorry." Natasha lowered her voice to a level only you could hear. "I'm sorry, but that's just complete and utter bullshit. Look, I know you guys think you've been in super secret stealth mode about hiding it, but pretty much everyone on the team knows you've been sleeping together. Hell, most of us placed bets on it." You opened your mouth in order to protest but she cut you off.

"If anything, it's weirder if the two of you don't show up to something together, so I don't know what the hell he's thinking."

"I do," you said morosely. "He doesn't want her getting the wrong idea about us."

"Pocket, don't even let your mind go there," Nat said.

"Think about it, Nat; I've been standing here for what, fifteen minutes now? And he hasn't even looked at me. When's the last time that happened?"

Nat's brows creased, her expression clouding over into something immensely sad for you, and you knew she was realizing what you'd already seen. In the last year, you and Bucky had been attached at the hip, nearly physically joined to one another, and if you were apart, your eyes were always scanning the room in search of the other's presence, seeking them out. The fact that he hadn't even looked for you, let alone come to you since you walked in, was telling in its own heartbreaking way.

Nat let out a heavy sigh. "Oh Pocket. Honey, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes if you kept down this path. "Don't Natty, please. I can't fall apart, not here."

"Yeah, okay-- you're right. Now is not the time. Come on." Linking her arm through yours once again, she directed you toward the bar where Tony was standing, whiskey in hand. "If anyone can talk you to distraction," she murmured as you approached him, "it's Stark."

You let out a startled laugh and let her guide you toward the man who had already saved you more times than you could count.

"Hey, kiddo; Romanoff." Tony saluted you with his glass and you did your best to smile back at him as you stuffed your emotions down as far as they would go. "What do you think of our new recruit?" he asked Nat.

"I think 'Weasel' would be a better fitting code name for her than 'Vixen,'" Nat replied with a sly smile as she took a sip of wine.

"Ah, saw the security feed, did you?" Tony asked her. Nat nodded.

"Watched it live as it happened. Wasn't going to leave my bestie without eyes on her six." She gave your arm an affectionate squeeze.

Tony hummed and glanced over to the couch. "Wish Cap had been as discerning as you. He refused to watch the feed; said it made him uncomfortable to spy on someone when they didn't know they were being recorded." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Always the fucking Boy Scout," she murmured.

"So, how did the interview itself go?" you asked Tony, not really sure you wanted to know the answer, but feeling the need to punish yourself with the details, anyway.

Tony leaned back against the bar, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. "If it were up to me, we wouldn't even be playing this charade right now," he said, motioning with his chin to indicate the meet and greet. "Girl's a first-class bullshitter."

"Talent recognizing talent?" you asked with a wry smile that almost felt genuine.

He pointed a finger and winked at you. "Exactly. She talked a good talk, but it doesn't take much to see she's suffering from Big Fish, Small Pond Syndrome. She's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she's ready to swim in the ocean with the whales and the sharks."

"So, you're not going to offer her the probationary position?" you asked, hope rising pathetically in your chest. As if you could un-ring the bell.

"Oh, I didn't say that," Tony said as you deflated. "It's not all up to me. Though, given the fact that I personally fund this entire operation, you'd think it really should be, right?" At the look on your face he moved on. "Apologies, I digress. Anyway, Cap thinks it's only fair we offer it to her, seeing as how we don't have a ton of other options knocking on our door, and Fury's not going to get off my ass until we find someone." He sighed. "I think this entire exercise is a waste of time, and we should be kicking her out on her ass for how she treated you earlier, Pocket, but I'm outvoted."

"Thanks, Boss," you said softly, grateful at least that Tony could see through Jade's facade and took how she treated you seriously. Too bad your best friend couldn't offer you the same courtesy.

The timer on Tony's watch went off. "And that's the dinner bell," he said, putting down his glass. Clapping his hands, he called out to the rest of the room. "Attention Avengers, SHIELD Agents, and... whoever else managed to sneak in off the street! Dinner is served, so if we could all head to the dining room before the food gets cold and Raul quits on me, I'd appreciate it very much."

You held back as the crowd of people noisily moved to the dining room, hoping to catch Bucky's eye, but he remained steadfastly absorbed in his conversation with Jade.

"Come on, honey," Nat said as she took your elbow. "You can talk to him during dinner. You nodded and allowed her to lead you into the dining room. You and Bucky had sat next to one another, without fail, for every meal for the last year, the only exception being when one of you was away on a mission. You'd have plenty of opportunities to talk to him while you ate.

Normally, you all ate at one large table, but since this was a special occasion that required the attendance of a lot more than just the regular 13 members of your family (14, if Parker was around), Tony had the dining room arranged more like a restaurant, with a series of smaller tables spread out throughout the space.

You and Nat followed Bucky and Jade to a six-top where Steve and Sam were already getting ready to sit down, but you froze in your tracks when Bucky pulled back a chair for Jade, pushing it in behind her as she sat down before taking the seat next to her.

The air seemed to grow heavy, as though it weighed too much for you to draw it into your lungs and your chest began to hurt. How could such a simple action be causing you so much physical pain?

Steve, who had already been sitting at Bucky's other side at the head of the table, caught your eye and moved to get up to offer you his chair, instead, as though that could make up for Bucky's dismissal of you.

You subtly shook your head, not wanting to draw attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way over to the only two remaining seats at the table: the one next to Sam that was directly across from Jade and Bucky or the one next to Jade at the opposite end of the table from Steve. Deciding it was better to be sitting across from Steve than either of the other two, you opted for the chair at the end, and Nat slid in next to Sam.

You cast a quick glance in Jade's direction and had to stifle a sick laugh-- she was physically coming between you and Bucky, quite literally.

Jade reached a hand out to Nat across the table. "Wow! Black Widow! It is so great to meet you! My name's Vixen; I'm a huge fan! I'm so excited for us to be working together!"

Bless Nat, she just stared at the girl with arms crossed across her chest, impassive and judging, until Jade slowly and awkwardly pulled her hand back.

"I take it, then, that you've deemed the Avengers good enough to be your backup team?" Nat asked without expression.

You did your best to cover the laughter that escaped from you with a fake cough, but you didn't try very hard to be convincing.

"What's this about, now?" Steve asked, leaning forward.

"Little Vixen over here," Nat began, leaning back in her chair until she was perched on the two rear legs, "was live-streaming this morning to her social media followers. Told them it wasn't so much that the Avengers were interviewing her to see if she'd be good for the team, but she was interviewing us to see if we'd be good back up for her."

Jade had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment before she turned to face you for the first time, anger taking over her features. "So, what? Didn't much take you for a tattler. You that intimidated by me?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but were interrupted by the sound of the legs of Nat's chair slamming back against the floor. "Pocket didn't tell me shit. I heard it straight from your mouth on the security feed. That and a lot of other interesting things."

"You're spying on her, Nat? Really?" Bucky spoke up. "She's our guest and she deserves a modicum of privacy, don't you think?" You stared at him, open mouthed, but he didn't spare you a glance.

"It was a part of her interview, Barnes," Nat spat. "Maybe if you---"

"Okay, Nat, Bucky," Steve said, using his official Captain America voice, "let's table this conversation for later and just enjoy our meal. Raul worked really hard on tonight's menu, so let's not spoil it for him, alright?"

Both Nat and Bucky grumbled their agreement as the catering staff brought out the first course and placed them on each of your plates. Normally, you loved when Raul, Tony's personal chef, cooked meals for the team; he always made sure to throw in something with lemon in it, knowing how much you loved the flavor; but tonight, your appetite was failing you and you ended up pushing more food around on your plate than you put in your mouth.

You couldn't help but steal glances over at Bucky, who continued to be wrapped in conversation with Jade. You tried to keep up with what the others were saying, occasionally nodding your head in agreement to something, but you weren't able to pay any real attention; your mind was elsewhere until you noticed Jade looking at you.

"You know, I have to say I'm surprised to see so many non-Avengers here. I got the impression that this group was... I dunno, elite? But it seems like you just let anyone in."

Steve laughed from the other end of the table. "Being an Avenger is a team effort, Vixen. Everyone plays their part. And besides, Pocket here's just as much an Avenger as I am." The comment took you by surprise, and you gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched by his words.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended, and all the warmth you'd felt at Steve's compliment vanished in an instant, leaving you feeling cold and hollow. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities or powers or what have you, but she's got a brilliant mind. She's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation from MIT, three Master's degrees, she speaks seven languages, she's got a black belt in Krav Maga, and she was the youngest Chief Technology Officer in Stark Industries history; all without ever having formally graduating high school. It's no exaggeration for me to say that I'd be dead a couple of dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her even more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do– primarily because of things that happened to us by accident; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks, and the strength and quality of the work she’s willing to put in. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You looked at Steve as if seeing him for the very first time. You had no idea he thought so highly of you, and his praise warmed you. You offered him a soft smile, your throat tightening with emotion and leaving you unable to express your gratitude. You mouthed a silent thank you instead, hoping that conveyed how much his words meant to you. He winked back at you in acknowledgement.

Bucky glanced back and forth between the two of you, as if analyzing your silent exchange. He coughed awkwardly. "I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the really dangerous stuff," he backpedaled, poorly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, expression blank, until he looked away in embarrassment. Good. Let him feel an ounce of the discomfort you’d been feeling this entire time.

Small talk resumed around the table, with Sam telling Steve about some new modification he was making to Redwing, and Bucky and Jade back to being locked in their own bubble. You did your best to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jade directed to Bucky, but it felt like your eyes were drawn to them like a magnet every time she touched him. Which seemed to be happening more and more frequently. You couldn't help but notice the way he leaned toward her when she spoke. Did he ever do that when he was talking with you?

"So, Bucky," Jade said eventually, her voice low and flirty as the caterers took away the main course, "handsome super hero like you, you seeing anyone?" Your eyes snapped up to Bucky's face, watching him. Surely he was going to look to you, make eye contact, something to acknowledge what was between you, to make you feel like you were in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet as him. But he didn't.

"Nope," he said, running his hand over the back of his neck like he always did when he was feeling self conscious or nervous. "Not seeing anyone, though I'm not opposed to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that had hurt less than hearing the words that had just come out of Bucky's mouth. It took everything in you to resist getting up from the table and leaving the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere at your table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Bucky either was oblivious to the stares or was doing a great job patently ignoring them.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jade's and not yours. How could he sit there and just completely deny you like that? Had you been deluding yourself? Had you just been some kind of fuck toy this entire time?

The caterers brought the next course, a cold raspberry soup. You sat there, staring into space as you mechanically spooned the soup into your mouth, trying your hardest to appreciate the taste, but everything seemed bitter in light of Bucky's attitude, actions, and words.

"Could you hand me the water carafe?" Bucky asked. You looked up to watch Jade hand him the bottle of water. "Thanks, doll," he said, smiling at her.

You dropped your spoon, letting it fall into your nearly empty bowl with a reverberating clang. Your companions at the table stared, eyes wide as their gazes traveled between you and Bucky. In his entire time at the tower, he had never once called another woman 'doll.' It was a moniker he'd specifically reserved for you.

Or, it used to be.

You could tell the exact moment when Bucky realized he'd fucked up. His eyes locked on yours, the color draining from his face. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak to you, but you'd had enough. Without a word, you pushed back your chair with enough force that it practically tipped over and exited the dining room.

You made it all the way to the elevator before you heard him calling for you.

"Doll! Doll, where are you?" You stabbed repeatedly at the call button, as if it would bring the car to you faster. You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, and you really didn't want to talk to him right now.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you slid inside, turning to press the 'Close Door' button just as you saw Bucky turn the corner to the elevator bay. You were ready to breathe a sigh of relief at evading him until Bucky's metal hand shot in the diminishing space between the closing doors. You were trapped.

"Doll, didn't you hear me callin' to you?" he asked as he slid into the car with you.

You looked around, as if searching for another person in the car. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? Should probably be more specific with your pet names, then. A girl’s liable to get confused." You were impressed that the words came out as hard and bitter as you felt inside.

Bucky flinched. "I deserved that."

You leaned forward to press the button for your floor before crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You fucking think?"

"Look, it just slipped out, okay? I didn't mean anything by it. It's not a big thing you needed to storm out over." You rolled your eyes at him, disgusted that that was the only thing he seemed to realize he'd done to offend you all evening. "Pocket, can we just talk about this?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" you asked, jutting out your hip in annoyance. "Seemed like earlier today, you couldn't wait to not be seen with me, or do you no longer care if people get the wrong idea?"

"Alright," Bucky said, slamming his fist against the elevator's emergency stop button. You stumbled as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky tried to put his hands on you to steady you, but you pushed him away. "What is going on with you today, Pocket?"

"What's going on with me?" you asked him, incredulous. "What's going on with you? You've been an ass to me all night, that is when you weren't acting like I didn't exist."

"How am I being an ass?" he asked, voice rising. "You're the one who couldn't even hold a civil conversation with our guest! It was embarrassing!" You recoiled as if he'd slapped you, backing away from him until your back hit the elevator wall.

"Wow. Okay then." You blinked heavily, telling yourself not to cry. You'd be damned if you showed weakness in front of him now. Bury the emotions, encase them in ice. "Sorry I'm such a fucking embarrassment to you, Sergeant Barnes. Now that I know how you feel, I'll make sure to stay out of your way so you don't have to put up with me." You moved to press the button to restart the elevator, but Bucky grabbed your wrist.

"Don't do this," he growled at you. "Don't hide behind snappy quips so you can shut down and avoid having a real conversation with me." You stared between his eyes and where he held your wrist in his metal grip. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but it was tight enough to keep you from breaking free.

His gaze softened as he watched you. "I never said I was embarrassed of you, Pocket. I just don't know why you had to be so rude to Jade at dinner tonight."

"Name one thing I did that was rude to her," you challenged.

"Okay," Bucky stuck out a finger as though he were about to count off all your grievous errors. "Let's see... You said... No, that was Nat... You were... okay, Steve said that... You said... No, that was Nat again." He looked up at you sheepishly. "So, maybe you actually didn't say anything during dinner, but not talking to her was still rude."

You scoffed. "You want to talk rude and embarrassing, Bucky? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have everyone staring at me when you pulled out my chair for Jade, or when my own best friend didn't defend me when she had the audacity to call me a fucking tattler? Like I’m some kind of fucking child?" Your voice was rising and you could feel yourself getting swept up in your anger. "How about the pity looks I got when everyone heard you lie about not seeing anyone, or when you called her 'doll'? Or when you told her I was 'Avengers-adjacent'? You think I'm the embarrassing one? You made me feel like an insignificant piece of shit tonight, Barnes. God, if it hadn't been for Steve saying what he said, you would have driven me to tears."

Bucky had been staring down at his boots as you'd been speaking, as though your accusations were too much for him to face head-on, but at the mention of Steve's name, his head snapped up, blue eyes like ice on your face. "Well, if Steve's such a hero, why aren't you fucking him, then?" he asked, voice clipped and bitter.

You yanked your wrist free from his grasp. "Maybe I should start!" you shouted. "At least he's not embarrassed of me and doesn't forget I exist when another pair of tits shows up!"

Bucky's gaze darkened and in an instant, he was on you, caging your body against the elevator wall, a hand on either side of your head. "Don't you even fucking joke about that," he snarled.

You jutted out your chin, refusing to show any sign of weakness, though his actions were beginning to frighten you. "Who says I'm joking? Sounds like a good idea to me; thanks for suggesting it." You moved to duck under his arm, but he grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

His breaths were coming hard and fast now, as though he'd just run a marathon. His gaze darted between your eyes and your lips, as though trying to make up his mind about something. In the next instant, his mouth was crashing down on yours, his tongue demanding entry.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Bucky took that as his invitation, deepening the kiss with a primal fervor. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. For a moment, you were stunned, unsure of what was happening. But then instincts took over – he was kissing you, really kissing you. Your stomach fluttered and your heart hammered in your chest.

One of your hands ran through his hair, while the other gripped his shoulder for support. His hands had somehow migrated beneath your shirt, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin at your sides. You returned his kiss with as much intensity as he gave. But then suddenly, as if waking from a dream, you remembered why you were angry with him. You pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.

You were both panting, and despite your attempt to put distance between your bodies, Bucky leaned down, resting his forehead against yours as he fought to catch his breath. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "Don't sleep with Steve."

"You realize how incredibly infuriating you're being right now, don't you?" you asked. "You can't just treat me like that, ignore me all night in favor of someone else, then kiss me and try to tell me who I can or can't sleep with."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said, nuzzling your nose with his, "I know and I'm sorry, but please, promise me: no matter how angry you are with me, don't sleep with Steve. You wanna fuck someone else to piss me off? Go fuck Sam, Thor, Rhodes, hell, even Parker. I'll hate it, but if it's Steve, it'll fucking kill me."

"Your signals are all over the place tonight, Buck," you sighed, letting out an involuntary moan as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck and sucked at your skin. You had to pull away before he turned you into a babbling mess. "If you think you can just kiss me into oblivion and I'll forgive you for everything you've said and done tonight, you better think again, because that's not happening."

Bucky ran both his hands through his hair, sending it pointing every which way. Then he pressed the emergency stop button again, letting the elevator resume its journey. "I know I owe you an explanation, Pocket," he said. "So, can we go to your room and talk? No interruptions, no one else, just you and me, okay?"

You studied him, considering. A part of you was still so angry at him that you didn't want to hear him out, but the part of you that loved him hated the idea of leaving things in a bad place. In your line of work, you never knew when your next goodbye might be your last goodbye.

"Fine," you said, dropping your shoulders with a sigh. "We can talk, I'll hear you out, but I'm not promising forgiveness."

He smiled, his eyes bright once again. "That's all I ask, Sweets. That's all I ask."

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blue-slxt · 10 months

Text

One Hammock - Chapter 2

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Here's the much requested Part 2 for the one-shot I wrote. I honestly didn't expect it to be as popular as it is and I certainly didn't think I'd write a second part for it, but I'm glad y'all are loving it! This part came out a little longer than I meant for it to, but I got lost in the sauce lol. So I hope you guys enjoy! All the characters are aged up.

Previous Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Explicit smut, masturbation (M and F), vouyerism kink?, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, Scenting, One bed trope (kinda), I think that's it

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You've been avoiding Neteyam since the hammock incident because you're trying to figure out your feelings, but you can't avoid him any more when your parents have you stay with the Sully family while they're away.

It had been a week since that night, and you had been avoiding Neteyam. It wasn’t like you were mad at him or anything, you just didn’t really know how to act normally around him in public anymore. Just the mention of his name sent your mind racing with memories of what happened. The few times you did happen to see Neteyam, he seemed perfectly normal. Not an awkward bone in his body. How does he do it? Meanwhile, you were a ball of nerves whenever you were in close proximity to him.

Kiri and Lo’ak take notice in your change lately too. They’ve tried asking you multiple times, but you dismiss them every time. There was no way you could tell them the truth. Nobody wants to hear about their brother doing something like that, especially with such a close family friend. What would they think of you?

You’d talk to Neteyam again when you felt like you were ready to fully face the situation. You just needed time to finish processing your emotions about it and him.

Unfortunately, it looks like you were going to be forced to process this a lot faster than you anticipated. Your parents are going on a 3-day long hunting trip and they’ve asked for you to stay with Jake and his family. This is ridiculous, you’re an adult so you should be able to be home alone. But your parents are very protective over you as their only child. And they only trust the Sully family with your safety and once they’ve put their foot down, there’s no getting them to change.

It’s going to be a lot harder to not talk to Neteyam when you’re going to be staying in his home. But maybe he won’t even want to talk about what happened either. Yea, maybe he’s feeling weird about it too and he’s just better at containing himself than you are. Either that, or it just simply wasn’t a big deal to him. But the thought of that being the case hurts your feelings just a tad. Why? Did you want it to mean something to him? Did it mean something to you?

You figure that maybe going to bathe at the nearby waterfall might help clear your head a bit so that you can hopefully get some sleep tonight.

You loved coming to the waterfall at night. Something about the roar of the rushing water against the quiet night air was like a melody to your ears. You remove your clothes before walking into the waist deep water. For it to be after eclipse, the water is still surprisingly warm. You sink down to your knees and let your head fall back and your hair sprawl out across the surface of the water. It’s so therapeutic. You’d stay here all night if you could, but you know if you take too long, somebody will come to look for you eventually. So, you start cleaning your body off.

You run your hands along the length of your arms and your torso and then you reach the spot between your thighs. It’s right where he was. You hold your hand there for a second just remembering. It was hot and heavy and slippery against your skin. When you look down, you can still visualize the way his tip poked out from between your legs over and over again. Your fingers travel up mere centimeters and find your already throbbing clit. Shit, you were sensitive just from the remembering. You start rubbing mindless circles on the little bundle of nerves and your breathing gets heavy.

Your eyes close and your mind tells you that instead of your own hand, it’s Neteyam. Instead of your fingers, it’s the tip of his dick brushing against your sensitive spot again and again. “Fuuuck…” you breathe out. He was so close to being actually inside of you. Oh, how you wanted to feel him inside of you.

You lean forward onto a rock to help steady yourself as your legs grow weak beneath you. Your fingertips poke and prod at your entrance teasing you. He’s teasing you until he finally sinks into you. A loud moan escapes your lips, “Neteyam…ah…”

You do your best to keep your voice down so as to not attract the attention of anyone who may be nearby. Thankfully, the sound of the waterfall is loud enough to mostly drown out your sounds.

Your fingers move in and out of your dripping pussy making such obscene sounds which just pushes you further into your fantasy. Neteyam pounding into you from behind whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Your core tightens and you can feel how close you are.

Memories of that night replay in your head fueling your oncoming orgasm. “Haah…I-I’m gonna cum!” You remember the feeling of his cum on your skin and his hands on your body, gripping you harder with his own release. It’s enough to get you to your peak and you cum with a loud groan that echoes in the area around you.

You continue leaning on the rock to keep yourself up while your mind slowly comes out of its fog. You finally feel like some of the weight has been lifted off your mind and you can think clearly again.

However, unbeknownst to you, there was someone watching you the entire time. Neteyam didn’t mean to find you in the forest. It was pure coincidence. But when his eyes caught sight of your bare, slender body in the water, he couldn’t tear himself away. And then you started touching yourself. He knew this was wrong and he shouldn’t keep watching such an intimate moment. But his fascination was too much for him to move. And then you said his name. His ears shoot up at the sound of his own name being on your lips. Before he knew it, he was palming his own dick while watching you. Fuck, how he wanted to be the one feeling you right now. He wanted to hear you scream his name, not just simply whimper it.

Knowing that you made yourself cum with the thought of him made his head spin. Caught in a dizzying space of pleasure. He was nearing his own high at the same time as you. His seed spilled out over his own hand making a big, sticky mess.

He runs off to find a different stream to clean himself off in and rushes back home before you get there.

When you get back to the tent, you see how Neteyam tenses up at the sight of you. That was odd. After being totally normal all week, he’s suddenly acting like the awkward one. You didn’t get it. But it’s probably best to not think too hard on it.

…

Sadly, sleep still doesn’t come easily for you tonight. Even though Lo’ak isn’t snoring tonight, your mind and body are still too restless. Jake had put up a temporary privacy curtain for you while you were staying with them, but you stare at it feeling uneasy. Neteyam is just on the other side of this curtain and you wanted so badly to see him. Truthfully, you hated being so isolated. Being by yourself like this made you umcomfortable. But you don’t want to be ungrateful since Jake had put this up just for you. You chew on your bottom lip and try to bear with it and turn your back to the curtain. Then, there’s a sound in the silence. It’s just barely there, but you catch it. Footsteps and it sounds like they’re coming towards you.

“You still awake?” Neteyam whispers to you peeking his head behind the curtain. He tried to keep his voice small enough to not wake you in case you were asleep.

You turn around to face him and shake your head.

“Is it okay if I come in?” he’s hesitant.

You just nod at him. Words don’t seem to be coming to you just yet.

He carefully and quietly makes his way over to your hammock and scoots his way in. His body is right against yours and the contact sears your skin.

“I know you don’t really like sleeping alone and I was worried you might be scared over here by yourself.” He says quietly.

He remembers. That was part of the reason you two would share a hammock so often when you were children. You would beg and plead until you were purple in the face because of your fear of being alone while you slept. And Neteyam never minded. He always played the role of protector and he liked making you feel safe.

“Thanks” you say to him and you’re grateful that he can’t see the flush of your cheeks in the dark.

Your face studies his silhouette in the dark with only the small rays of light from the stars seeping in through the spaces of the tent. Your eyes travel further down to his chest watching it rise and fall and to his abs that flexed slightly with each breath he took and then even lower and the flashbacks hit you again. It’s like you can literally feel how your clit wakes up in his presence.

You fidget in your spot trying to squeeze your thighs together for some relief.

“So, listen, um, about that night” he starts.

Oh no, do we really need to talk about this right now? But you have nowhere to hide.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable”

“No no, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I mean I was the one who offered, right?” your face feels like it’s on fire. “Honestly, I kind of…liked it…” the last words come out as more of a whisper than a confident statement. You’re cautious with your words since you’re still not sure where his head is in all of this.

Now, it was Neteyam’s turn to blush, thankful for the cover of the dark.

“The truth is…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since then.” He confesses.

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest. So he did think about it just like you.

“And I was thinking that I could help you out sometime too…You know, if-if you wanted to…” his words trail off with his growing uncertainty.

You’re not sure what came over you in that moment. What suddenly gave you the confidence boost to say what came next, “C-could you help me now?”

His breathing hitches in his chest. He turns onto his side to be face-to-face with you. Neither of you say a word, but your eyes are pleading with him. Begging him to touch you. He slowly lowers his hand to the waistband of your loincloth. He pauses, his eyes still silently asking you if this was okay. You give him a small smile letting him know to continue.

His fingers pass your loincloth and come into direct contact with your heat. One of his fingers strokes your aching clit and your breathing gets heavier. You chew on your lip trying to bite back the moan you desperately want to release.

Neteyam’s notices how his own loincloth is getting tighter at the feeling of his fingers gliding up and down your slit.

Small groans of pleasure fall from your lips at his touch. He felt even better than you had imagined. And the way he touched you, it was as if he knew how to please your body even better than you did. His fingers touch you with just the right amount of pressure and speed. You feel drunk at his touch.

“Neteyam…m-more… please” you whisper just inches from his face. He can feel his own restraint slipping at the sound of your pleas.

‘Eywa, please just let me have this.’ He thinks to himself before he captures your lips in a hungry, sloppy kiss. You waste no time moving your mouth in sync with his. Your tongues dance together in each other’s mouths. He loved the way you tasted. He just wanted to drink you in all night.

That tightening in your core is back. Your back arches trying to press yourself even more into Neteyam’s body. His lips muffle your moans, but he can feel how close you are. Just at the last second, he plunges a finger into your heat sending you over the edge. Your body jerks and your hands fly up to hold onto his shoulders while you struggle to keep yourself from being too loud.

Neteyam bites his lip to keep himself quiet feeling your walls pulse around his finger.

You come down from your high and rest your forehead against his chest.

He looks down at your face and when you look back at him, Neteyam knows he’s done for. Your big, round eyes staring up at him still full of longing. Without a word, or a second thought, you both hungrily crash your lips together while you both hurry to shimmy out of your loincloths. You couldn’t wait one more minute. You wanted him, needed him, and you needed him right now. You felt like you might lose your mind if he wasn’t inside of you immediately and he felt the same.

He turns your body around and you instinctively push your ass back against him making him let out a low groan. You use one of your hands to spread your still drenched pussy for him. He holds on to your hips while he swipes his tip up and down against your slick. He lines up with your opening and he slides in you painfully slow. You had never had anything bigger than your own fingers inside of you and the slow fill was indescribable. Holding back your moans was nearly impossible. He’s struggling too, trying to deep breathe his way through the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. He finally pushes all the way into you and you burn the shape of him into your body’s memory. You want to only know the shape and feeling of him forever.

He pulls his hips back, but you’re clenching on him so tight, it’s difficult to even pull out. It’s a wonder how he didn’t cum instantly. He moves slowly in and out of your warmth. Every thrust drags across your sweet spot.

His head falls forward resting in the crook of your neck. One hand slides up your body to massage your breast while the other reaches around to rub small circles on your clit.

“Of f-fuck…Neteyam…” it comes out as a whimper and it drives him crazy.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well” he breathes into your ear. It’s exactly how you dreamt it.

His hips pick up their pace, “You have no idea how badly I’ve always wanted this.”

“M-me too…ah…” you’re losing your breath from panting.

“Yea? You touch yourself thinking about me? You want me to make that pussy feel good?” his voice is low but commanding in your head.

“Yes yes!” your voice comes out a bit louder than you meant to. Your hand cups itself over your mouth to muffle your sinful sounds.

Neteyam is loving every second of it. He loves watching you lose yourself to him.

“Oh, fuck yawne, I’m gonna fill you up so good” he rubs his face into your neck mingling his scent with yours.

“Please Neteyam…” even whispering, your voice is still strained.

He wants nothing more than to just pound into you mindlessly, but he knows that would make too much noise right now and he uses the last shred of his power to control his thrusts. But he can still feel your approaching orgasm. Your walls tighten even more around him, he wasn’t even sure that was possible.

“G-gonna cum…I’m gonna cum again Neteyam” your eyes blur unable to focus under the influence of your impending release.

“Do it, cum with me.” His grip on your body grows as he chases his own high.

The knot in your core snaps with ground-shaking force and you definitely would have screamed had it not been for your hand over your mouth. While you’re still at the peak of your release, Neteyam shoots thick, hot ropes of his seed deep into you. You felt so full that you thought you might burst. It intensifies your own orgasm tenfold.

You both stay there unable to move an inch from the exhaustion. Neteyam manages to pull himself together enough to pull out of you and his cum slowly drips out of you too. He rolls onto his back and watches the ceiling still catching his breath.

“Hey, Neteyam?” you mumble.

“Hm?”

“Would you stay with me? At least until I fall asleep?” you still didn’t want to be alone.

He smiles gently and turns over to pull you against him, “Of course” he places a small peck against the shell of your ear.

His arms are like walls around you shielding you from any feeling of fear or unease. He’s just so inviting. You fall asleep within minutes. Neteyam isn’t far behind you, falling asleep just moments later.

…

In the morning, the gentle sound of someone rustling around out of bed wakes you. You don’t open your eyes yet though. You just want to stay how you are for a little longer. You can hear Lo’ak’s voice on the other side of your privacy curtain, “Hey, have you seen Neteyam? He’s not in his hammock.”

At the same time, he’s pulling your curtain back to come talk to you, “oh shit!”, he pulls the curtain closed and jumps back on the outside.

Your eyes shoot open and your body jumps awake. The sudden movement and loss of warmth wakes Neteyam too.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…interrupt.” Lo’ak says from the other side of the curtain. Your head falls into your hands in humiliation. “You guys should probably get yourselves together before mom and dad wake up.” You can hear the amusement in his voice.

Eywa, out of all people, did it have to be Lo’ak? You both knew you weren’t going to be hearing the end of this any time soon.

You look over at Neteyam and he shoots you an amused smirk of his own. You can’t help the small giggle that you let out. He props himself up to kiss you.

“How about next time we go somewhere actually private?” he jokes.

“Definitely.” You say smiling back at him.

‘Next time.’

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #awow smut

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

My pet peeve:

Someone here mentioned how they once saw a 5k fic divided into three chapters.

I don’t know why this annoys me because it’s not like it changes the quality of the writing. I know a simple solution would be to just press the “entire work” button, but I just don’t like doing that.

Which is weird, because I’ve read one shots that are up to 50k words before. I don’t know if anyone else is like this, but I’m just much more willing to read a 20k one shot over a 20k word-20 chapter work.

I’m trying to get over this pet peeve. But I’m not sure if I can because I can be such a slut for long fics.

I don't care about chapter length for its own sake, but I doubt you do either if you really think about what was "wrong" with those 20-chapter 20k fics.

Your typical published genre fiction has chapters between 2 and 5k. (This question comes up like every two days in every writing forum of all time, and people have studied it extensively.) You'll get a 500-word prologue or sudden action chapter here and there to punctuate the rest, but if most chapters aren't over 2k, it's often a sign of a writer who isn't able to flesh things out adequately or who doesn't understand how to find a natural inflection point in the narrative.

It's not that a 1k chapter is bad in and of itself: it's what 1k chapter after 1k chapter often signals about the pacing and writing craft.

Not putting in chapter breaks is normalized in fandom, so it's not always a bad sign, but I think it's a more reliable sign of quality if 50k is broken up to some degree. If there are no chapter breaks and no visual section breaks of any kind in a fic of that length, I definitely take that as a bad sign.

In my original novels, if I have a chapter that is 5k, I'll take a look at it to see if it should be two instead, based on the content and flow. (5k is a very normal length for novel chapters, but my personal style tends to be more like 2-3k, so 5k is a red flag that I've missed a natural break point.)

But if an entire work is 5k, my experience is that it usually does not have a natural break point to divide it into chapters that feel organic, much less two break points.

And if it does, it's because it's 10k+ of concept shoved into 5k of author writing stamina and unwillingness to revise.

150 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 5 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 1: Can I Buy You a Beer?

You run into someone you don't expect when out for a drink. A continuation of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Yes it's a Javi gif but we're gonna say he's Joel because Joel is in his 30s for this fic, OK?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.7K

AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Austin, Texas

September 30, 2022

You were going to strangle Alyssa.

It sure as hell hadn’t been your idea to go out drinking to celebrate the end of the first month of the school year. Definitely not your idea to do it at a bar that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned this decade. And it absolutely was not your idea to try to pick up a guy while out at said dingy bar.

But it apparently was Alyssa’s idea of a good time.

You sighed as you watched people go to and from the bar from your seat tucked in the corner. You tried to come up with stories for the people you could see in the dim light, like they were characters in a book you were writing. The biker in a leather vest, you decided, had been an accountant for 20 years when he bought a Harley during his midlife crisis. He’d become a mechanic when he became too obsessed with the bike to be satisfied behind a desk. His wife was pissed but his son thought he was way cooler now. The couple at the end of the bar were on a second… no, third date. She was deciding whether or not to fuck him. You thought it was going to go in his favor.

Alyssa had moved out of the seat next to the guy she’d taken up with and into his lap. You wondered if there was a world record for how far someone’s tongue could be down another person’s throat. It had to trigger her gag reflex at some point, right? Or maybe she didn’t have one. That must be nice. Maybe that was the key to being good at oral. Maybe you’d be better at it if you didn’t have a gag reflex. Maybe you’d still have a husband if you were better at oral.

You downed the last of your Shiner and rapped your fingers along the side of the glass. That was one upside to being back in Texas, at least. Shiner Bock on tap was a nice perk.

Next time you went out with Alyssa, you were driving yourself. If there was a next time.

But you’d probably cave before too long. You didn’t have many friends and you liked her. Even though this night hadn’t been much fun and getting to know her at all had been awkward at first. Alyssa was a few years younger than you and the first time she’d stumbled into your office she had your book in her hands and a wide smile on her face.

“I am so sorry if this is weird,” she said after a brief introduction. “But… I’m in love with your book and I am dying for you to sign it!”

“Sure,” you laughed a little and she passed it to you. You flipped to the title page and scrawled “Alyssa, Thanks for reading. With love, your coworker” before you penned the signature you’d practiced a million times with your agent below and handed it back. She squeaked, a little giddy, before offering to show you the best restaurants near campus. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d grown up in Austin so you had plenty of favorites without any extra help.

Still, you had this strange drive to have Alyssa see you as a normal person. Award-winning author famous was, thankfully, not the kind to get you recognized on the street but it still made you uncomfortable. Book signings and readings were exercises in misery. There was the acute agony of being observed and noted, the strange knowledge that, for these strangers, this brief encounter was going to be something they remembered. They’d remember if you had a mustard stain on your shirt or if there was lipstick on your teeth or if the stress you were under as you traveled from city to city while your marriage fell to pieces around you made you snap at someone. You never realized how keenly you valued anonymity until it wasn’t an option anymore.

The very last thing you wanted was someone who was a fan with an office two doors down from your own.

So, you’d decided to have her be a friend instead. Make it so she saw you as a person and not someone from the inside of a book jacket. The two of you had gone to lunch a few times and out for a quick drink once, too. It had been nice and, ever since, it felt like she had stopped watching you like a pseudo-celebrity and started seeing you as a friend. Or, at the very least, a friendly acquaintance.

So when she’d asked if you wanted to get some drinks tonight, you’d said yes, envisioning the lounge she’d suggested the first time you’d gone out, one with jazz music playing quietly enough that you could chat over it.

That was not where she suggested this time.

But you were already here and edging in on tipsy and if you were going to spend the night alone at a bar and, eventually, at home with your vibrator, you may as well be drunk doing it.

You made your way to the bar and ordered a tequila shot and another beer, drumming your fingers on the bar top as you waited for your drinks.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” a man who had to have at least 10 years on you sidled up next to you at the bar. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ getting your own drinks?”

“No one else was volunteering,” you gave him a tight smile. “But I’m not looking for company so…”

“Don’t tell me you’re here all by your lonesome?” He smiled a lopsided, cocky smile, looking you up and down. The accent felt a little heavy handed and the cowboy hat put it over the top. You wondered, idly, if he was hiding a bald spot under there.

“I prefer flying solo, but thank you,” you said, peering around him to watch the bartender flirt with a girl who looked like she was newly 21 and probably here slumming it at this bar that was far from the school. You sighed and settled in to wait even longer for your drinks.

“Girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be all on her own,” he said, leaning against the bar and blocking your view. “No way someone hasn’t snapped you up yet, a face like that…”

“Oh my face has nothing to do with it,” you smiled, forcing your eyes to go wide enough that you looked a little crazed. “It’s because I’m a murderous sociopath with six bodies buried beneath my house.”

The man just blinked at you, a puzzled look on his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head and you considered, for a moment, timing him to see how long it would take to piece it together.

“She’s right you know,” a familiar voice from behind you made you stiffen. “There's a reason she's here alone. This one’s insane, she’d chew you up and spit you out, man. Best you find someone else to try n’take home.”

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.”

You watched the man shove himself back from the bar and prowl off to find another woman to try and bed before turning, slowly, to the man standing at your back. Your heart beat picked up in spite of yourself when you saw him, as tall and broad and somehow even more handsome than ever.

Joel Miller smiled, one of his cocky, lopsided smiles that made his cheek dimple.

“Hey, Goldie.”

***

It was you.

Here, in this shitty bar in his corner of Austin on a Friday night was you.

Joel froze when he saw you, sitting in a corner by yourself, watching the bar with a far away look on your face.

It was a look he knew intimately, even though it had been 11 years since he’d last seen your face in person. You’d get that look when you were thinking about something important, something you wanted to remember. You’d have that look and then you’d open up that gold notebook of yours and write furiously for a minute or two before stashing it away.

“You ever gonna let me read any of that?” He’d teased one day as you sat, curled up in the corner of his couch, your notebook on your knees.

“No,” you scoffed. “Trust me, you don’t want anywhere near this disaster area. It’s basically just the word vomit version of my brain, it’s a mess up there.”

Joel didn’t push you on it but, truthfully, he’d have killed for a chance to see inside your mind for a moment. He wanted to crawl inside your skull and look at whatever you’d let him see. He wanted to memorize you, carry you with him, wrap himself up in you at every opportunity. You felt like home, more than anything else he’d ever had. Of course he wanted to be close enough to you to see inside your mind.

But that was a long time ago. Yes, it had been 11 years since he’d seen you but it had been even longer since he’d seen you when you weren’t pissed at him. In fairness, he was pretty pissed at you, too, but you’d started it.

And he wasn’t even sure why. He didn’t know what set you off to begin with. One night it was prom and the next thing he knew, you were gone. Taking off across the country before graduation without so much as a goodbye. You changed your number and your mom wouldn’t give it to him and you were just gone. Like the two of you hadn’t spent every day together for the last three years, like he had all meant nothing at all to you.

Joel saved up the money to buy a bus ticket to your fancy fucking college, intending to find you there and demand an explanation, but that hadn’t gone as planned. He just settled into not knowing and not understanding why the most important relationship in his life had been ripped away from him without a word.

But it had been a long time. He’d moved past the resentment of it and now he was all but awestruck at seeing you again.

“Hey, do you want…” Tommy’s voice trailed off and his eyes tracked where Joel’s were looking. “Holy fucking shit, is that…”

“Yup.”

“Did you know she…”

“Yup.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

“Know she was gonna be here?”

“Hell no.”

Joel caught a glimpse of his brother nodding out of the corner of his eye - he wasn’t about to stop looking at you, he was worried if he did you might disappear again - and sighed.

“You gonna talk to her?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“No idea.”

“Shit dude,” Tommy clapped his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Good luck with… whatever the fuck is gonna happen there.”

Joel glared at him for a second but kept his eyes on you. One of the other guys on the crew went to get the first round, something he appreciated because it meant he could keep watching you at a distance. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to you and he wasn’t about to just go talk to you with nothing to say.

But then you went to the bar and a guy was clearly annoying the hell out of you and, before he really knew what he was doing, he was heading for you.

“Hey, Goldie.”

You looked at him for a moment. You looked as surprised to see him as he was to see you.

“Hey, Joel.”

He smiled a little wider.

“Can I buy you a beer?” He asked.

“You’re a bit late, I’m afraid,” you said. “Already put it on my tab. But that’s assuming the bartender remembers I exist which seems like it might be aiming a bit high…”

Joel hung over the bar and hit the top of it a few times.

“Hey, Jimmy!” He yelled. The bartender whipped his head around. “Stop fuckin’ around, get my friend her shit, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning back to the woman he was talking to for a second before making you a shot first and then pouring your beer. He set both in front of you at the same time.

“Thank you,” you said, both to Joel and to Jimmy, and you did the shot, wincing as the tequila went down.

Joel whistled

“Shit, you lookin’ to get fucked up?”

“Well,” you coughed a little on the liquor before taking a sip of beer. “I already need to take an Uber home because the friend I came with is currently being devoured by that charming gentleman over there…” You nodded to a man at a table against the wall, a brunette draped across his lap who looked to be surgically connected to the man at the mouth. “So I figured, fuck it, may as well get hammered.”

Joel laughed a little at that.

“Since you’ve got no one else to get hammered with,” he shrugged. “Want to do it with me? Catch up a bit?”

You thought for a second, taking a sip of beer.

“Sure,” you said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Joel got a beer, too, and followed you back to your table before he settled in beside you. Part of it felt so natural, being next to you, but it was so different, too. You were different, fuck knows he was different.

“So,” he said, watching you. “You’re in town.”

“I am,” you nodded.

“Visiting Anna?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. It had made news, the fact that you were coming to teach at UT.

“Work,” you said. “Moved back a few months ago.”

“So what do you do now?” He asked. “For work, I mean.”

“Teach, mostly,” you said. “I’m at UT now. Literature and creative writing.”

“Seems right up your alley,” he nodded. “Always liked that sorta thing. You ever write that book?”

You nodded, taking another sip of beer.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just one, though.”

“Ever publish it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “A few years ago…” Joel laughed and you frowned. “What?”

“You really think I don’t know you wrote a fuckin’ book?” He asked. “Course I know you wrote a fuckin’ book. Jesus, Goldie, your name is on fuckin’ posters and shit! You think I live under a rock?”

You laughed.

“You dick!” You shoved him playfully. “Look, you’re basically illiterate, I didn’t want to assume…”

“Hey just because I do shit besides read does not mean I’m illiterate!” He laughed. “You’re just a nerd…”

“You only finished high school because I’m a nerd,” you rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure your coach was ready to make me an honorary member of the team since me hounding you about homework was the only thing that kept your ass grade eligible.”

“Oh, you were the MVP,” he smiled, watching you take another sip of your beer and you smiled that amused little smile, the one you had when you were humoring him, the same one you’d had since you were 15 years old. “No question about it.”

“Since you know all about me apparently,” you teased. “What’s been going on with you?”

Joel shrugged, taking a drink. Mostly to buy himself time.

Did he want to admit to you that he’d all but taken his life and driven it into the ground since he last saw you?

Not that he ever felt like he had much potential, anyway. You and his mom had been the only people who’d ever really seen anything in him. But then you left and she died and was he even failing anybody anymore? Certainly not himself. And everything he did now he did to make sure he didn’t fail his daughter who, for the last 10 plus years, had been the only thing in his life that made it seem like all the shit was worth something.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you about her, either. It seemed cheap, to bring her up in a bar to you of all people, one of the only reasons she existed in the first place.

“Kept busy,” he said instead with a shrug. “Workin’ construction. Roped Tommy into it about a year ago, too. His dumb ass kept getting into it with people, told him I wasn’t going to keep bailing him out of jail if he didn’t at least look like he was trying to get his shit together.”

You nodded and took another sip of beer.

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged again.

“Pays the bills.”

“Not what I asked, Joel.”

He looked at you. You were watching him in that keen way you had, your head cocked slightly to the side, your eyes looking at him like you could cut through everything, everything he ever had or was or would be, down into the lanky boy he’d been when he’d first met you.

“Not sure why it matters,” he said after a minute. “But it’s fine, I guess. Crew’s good. Work’s steady.”

“It matters because you deserve something that fulfills you,” you frowned slightly. “Don’t you think so?”

He laughed once, looking at you for a moment.

“Haven’t thought about shit that way in a while,” he said.

Since you left, he added silently. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t say it, even though part of him wanted to. Wanted to demand an answer, wanted to yell at you, wanted to cry at you and make you answer for the destruction that you left behind you. Destruction that Joel wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really recovered from, just found a way to live in the rubble of it all.

But you were here now, talking with him again.

“When was the last time we did this?” He asked.

“Did what?”

“Talked.”

You smiled a little.

“You mean besides the time you decided to yell at me about my romantic choices at my mother’s funeral?” You asked, brows raised. “Been a while.”

“Since prom?” He asked quietly.

He watched you clench your jaw before nodding and taking a drink.

“Since prom.”

Joel picked at the label on his beer bottle for a moment as you sat with your hands between your knees and looked anywhere but at him. Eventually, you picked up your drink glass again with your left hand and Joel traced your bare ring finger with his eyes.

“Thinkin’ I might have been right about the romantic choices,” he teased lightly and you frowned before he nodded at your hand.

“Ah, right,” you said, extending your hand in front of you and running your thumb over the inside of that finger like you would if there was a wedding band there. “Yeah, it turns out going on a book tour when your marriage is on the rocks isn’t the best way to handle things…”

“Shit,” he shook his head a little. “I’m sorry, Goldie, that…”

You scoffed.

“No you’re not,” you put your hand back in your lap. “You hated him. You said all of three words to Gale and you hated him…”

“OK first of all, his name was fucking Gale,” Joel cut you off. “And second of all, he was a fucking douchebag.”

You snorted into your beer, coughing and choking on it for a moment and Joel clapped you on the back as you held on to the table, trying to laugh and breathe at the same time.

“You alright there?” He asked, leaving his palm in the middle of your back.

“Fine,” you coughed, pounding your chest with your fist. “I’m fine, I just… It’s so funny, but Gale isn’t even his birth name.”

Joel gaped at you.

“You’re shitting me,” he said. “That asshole chose the name Gale?”

You nodded, still coughing and laughing.

“He did,” you said. “He did, he thought it made it sound him more authorial and academic, he changed it before he started teaching. His birth name is fucking Bradley - his mom still calls him Brad - and I only found out when filling out the marriage license.”

“What a fuckin’ dick,” Joel laughed, his hand still on you. He was touching you. He hadn’t touched you in so long and he was touching you. “Jesus Christ… Sorry if you’re still hung up on the guy but shit, you can do way better than that.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, calming down a bit and nodding to yourself. Joel watched you, uncertain. “Really, it is. I’m not going to pretend like I entirely agree with you but… things look different once you’re outside of the marriage and not in it anymore… Anyway. You married? Kids?”

“Not married,” Joel said, still not sure how he wanted to tell you about Sarah. If he even should, if the two of you were going to just go your separate ways after tonight and never speak again it felt wrong to share her. “Not even dating, really. At least, nothing steady…”

You laughed.

“Christ, why am I not surprised?” You teased. “You always had a way with the ladies. Haven’t outgrown that yet I take it?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Why outgrow what’s fun?”

You smiled a little back.

“Fair enough,” you said. “Don’t you want that, though? Something stable?”

“Is anything stable?” He asked. “Shit, half the people we went to school with now are fuckin’ divorced, what difference does it make?”

“Yeah, I guess I am one to talk,” you said, polishing off your beer.

Joel winced.

“Fuck, not what I meant…”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged. “I just… it didn’t work out and that’s that, right?”

“Right,” he said, watching you closely for a moment. “Hey, since you’re lookin’ to get hammered and I don’t got shit else to do tonight… shots?”

You laughed a little.

“I don’t know that I want to get that hammered,” you said. “I’m not a teenager anymore…”

“C’mon, Goldie,” he teased. “It’s on me. Plus it was my birthday the other day, gotta do at least one with me for that.”

“Oh shit,” you said. “It was, wasn’t it? You turned 33 on… Monday? Monday, right?”

“Right,” he laughed. “So, you in?”

You laughed a little back.

“Alright,” you said. “You’ve sold me. But I’ve got the first ones, it was your birthday, after all.”

The two of you moved to open bar stools on the end of the bar and ordered the first two shots - tequila - and clinked your glasses together before downing them, slamming them down on the bar top when you were done.

“See?” Joel teased. “You still got it in you.”

“If you say so,” you coughed a little and then laughed.

“Another?” He asked.

You looked at him for a moment.

“Fuck it,” you said and Joel flagged down Jimmy and ordered another round.

By the time it was last call, your friend had come over to say goodbye, her lipstick smudged around her lips and the mouth of the man she’d been draped across, and the bar had gotten quiet, just a handful of stragglers left even on a Friday night.

It took a few shots but you’d given up on keeping any distance from Joel at all, your bar stool sitting against his, your body pressed against his side, your head on his shoulder.

“Hey Jimmy!” Joel slapped the bar top a few times. The man came over and leaned on the bar, looking at you tucked against Joel. “Think you can get me a cab?”

“Sure as hell not lettin’ either of you two idiots drive,” he replied, going to get the phone.

“Hey,” Joel nudged you. “Where… where do you live? Need an address, gonna get you home.”

You thought for a second and then devolved into half drunk laughter.

“I don’t know,” your words were slurred. “Oh fuck, I’ve only lived there like… a few… a few… fuck. When did I move?”

“Before the school year?” He asked.

“Right,” you nodded. “Prob’ly right, that’s… that’s when. S’not long. I don’t know where it is, oh shit…”

“S’OK,” he said, putting an arm around you. “Just… just come home with me, s’fine.”

“Yeah?” You asked, raising your head slightly. “You… you don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind, Goldie,” he said gently. “Never mind, not with… not with you.”

You nodded and dropped your head back to his shoulder.

Joel had to half carry you to the cab and you dozed off against him on the drive, pressing your warm, soft body against his, passed out enough that you were drooling on the shoulder of Joel’s t-shirt, soaking through to his skin. He didn’t mind.

“She gonna be alright?” The cab driver asked as Joel paid him and nudged you awake.

“M’fine,” you waved him off.

“You know this guy?” The man asked, watching you in the rear view mirror.

“Him?” You asked, brows raised. “‘Course I know him, this… he’s Joel, he’s my best friend, s’fine.”

The driver nodded once.

“Good,” he said. “Take care of her, alright buddy?”

“Sure,” Joel said, setting you down in the back of the cab. “Always have.”

He got out and went around to the other door, almost tripping on the curb, before tugging you out of the backseat and against his side. You laughed and then shushed yourself.

“Sorry,” you tried to whisper but failed. “S’late, I should be quieter….”

“S’fine,” he slurred. “The neighbors think I’m trash anyway, not gonna ruin my reputation…”

You snorted at that.

“Assholes.”

He helped you up to the front door and fumbled with the lock, the two of you stumbling in. Julie, Sarah’s babysitter, shot up off the couch, a groggy look on her face.

“Wha?” She blinked for a second.

You yelped and Joel shushed you.

“Sorry,” you failed at whispering again. “But Joel… there’s a teenager in… you’ve got a teenager on your couch.”

“Yeah, she does that,” he tried to whisper back. “S’fine. How’d it go, Julie? Everything OK?”

“All good, Mr. Miller,” she stretched and got up, meeting Joel in the entry way. “She went down at 9:30 after trying to talk me into watching Coyote Ugly…”

“Oh lord,” Joel sighed. “Last thing she needs is to get it in her head that she should be singin’ and dancin’ on a bar…”

“Don’t worry, I said no,” she smiled. “But I think one of her friends at school is obsessed with it, not sure how else she’d know about it… Anyway. How about you pay me next week?”

“Oh shit,” he said, going for his wallet. She laughed.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Not sure you’d remember paying me right now and I’m even less sure you can count.”

“Thanks,” he said, grateful. “You drive safe, alright kiddo?”

“Will do,” she laughed a little. “Night, Mr. Miller. And Mr. Miller’s… friend.”

“Night!” You said, a little loud before clamping your hand over your mouth and laughing. Once the door was closed, you turned your attention back to him. “Ooooo you’re Mr. Miller now.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ old,” he said, guiding you inside. “Here, I’m gonna put you to bed and then I’ll take the couch…”

“You absolutely will not,” you snorted. “I’m… I can sleep on the couch, not… not letting you take the couch in your own house. ‘Specially not when you’re old enough to be Mr. Miller.”

“Goldie…”

“I will move and sleep on the floor.”

He sighed and started moving you toward the couch.

“You ever gonna be less stubborn?”

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the p as he set you down. He got the blanket Julie had been asleep under and draped it over you as you snuggled into the couch. “Hey Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Who was that girl?” You asked, eyes already closed. “Why… why did you have a teenager in your house? This is your house, right?”

“S’my house,” he said, tucking you in. “And don’t worry ‘bout it. Just go to sleep.”

You yawned.

“Thanks, Joel,” your voice was groggy. “For taking care of me. Missed you.”

He stopped and looked back at you for a moment.

“Missed you, too.”

He went to bed, trying not to think of the last time you’d fallen asleep on him.

***

The Morning After Prom

May, 2008

The pink and orange of dawn woke you up. You were on Joel’s chest, his shirt unbuttoned so you could feel his skin on yours and your dress was still bunched around your waist from when Joel had slid the straps down your arms the night before.

You enjoyed it for a moment. The feel of Joel’s skin, how his chest rose and fell with his breaths, how the early morning light caught in the curls that had broken free of the gel you were sure his mom had put in it the night before. He smelled good, like cologne - the kind that a man would wear, not the Axe shit that drenched the hallways of your school - and soap and a hint of sweat that just felt like the essence of him. You wanted to stay like this with him forever. Be this close, know him in this way. It felt right, it felt beyond just good.

And then you remembered, you weren’t supposed to be here.

“Joel,” you whispered, sitting up from him and shaking him gently but urgently. “Joel, wake up!”

“Hm?” He mumbled, groggy, his eyes opening slowly.

“We fell asleep,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one here to hear you. “We’re not supposed to be up here, we have to go!”

“Shit,” he blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked you over and you were suddenly fiercely aware of how naked you were, how the light of day was creeping in and casting over your exposed skin. Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out…”

“It’s OK,” you said quickly, clutching your dress over your naked breasts as you slid the straps back on. “But we should get home, we didn’t tell our moms that we were going to be out all night, I’m sure they’re pissed…”

“It’s prom,” he said. “Think they expected it to be a late one. But… you’re right, we should get going.”

Joel got up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. It wasn’t until you moved your lower half that you realized how sore you were between your thighs, your skirt falling back down to your feet. Joel held your hand for a moment once you were standing and his skin felt hot against yours. You dropped his hand and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You should button your shirt,” you said quietly, nodding to his bare chest. “And… um… Zip up your pants.”

“Oh,” he looked down. “Um… Right. Right.”

He moved quickly as you looked over as much of your dress as you could see and Joel used the glass of the press box as a mirror to adjust his hair.

“Do I look OK?” You asked when he was done, turning so he could see the whole dress. “Not like… not like we….”

“There’s… um…” he cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think we made a mess of the back of your dress, I didn’t think… should have moved it, I guess…”

“Shit,” you twisted, trying to spot it. “Do you think…”

“Just don’t turn your back to your mom,” he said quickly. “Should… should be OK.”

“Right,” you said. “Yeah, that’s… right. OK.”

Joel led the way to his car and the two of you sat in silence on the ride home. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his elbow propped on the door of the car, hand on his mouth, his face drawn.

What were you supposed to do now? You’d never done… this. You’d never been in this position and now you were here with Joel, the person who was your best friend, the person you knew better than anyone else in the world, the person that everything had felt so right with it had been impossible to stop.

But what did you do now?

He stopped in your drive way and sat there, staring straight ahead.

“Thank you,” you said. He looked at you, his eyes a little wide. “For taking me to prom, I mean. It was… I had… It was good. I liked it. It was good.”

“Yeah,” he nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I’m glad I… got to go with you. To prom.”

“Right.”

You looked at him. You wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to hold onto you and tell you that everything was going to be OK and that you were going to figure this out and it would be you and him together just like it always had been.

Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I’ve got church this morning,” he said. “And then we’re goin’ to help my grandma in the afternoon so I don’t think I can see you until tomorrow…”

“I’ve got that doctor’s appointment in the morning,” you said. “So… I guess I’ll just… I’ll see you at school?”

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, right. I’ll… I’ll see you at school.”

You smiled tightly at him and leaned in slowly to kiss him on the cheek, hoping that he would turn his head and press his lips to yours the way he had the night before.

He didn’t.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Yeah.”

You went inside and got undressed in your bathroom, looking at the stain on your dress, hoping you’d be able to get the stain of your blood and his come out before your mother noticed and it ruined anything else.

Next Chapter

A/N: Eeeeeeee! I'm so excited now that this story is properly going!

I hope you enjoy exploring Joel and Goldie with me. I really love their friendship and the way they care for each other and I think there's so much to explore with the both of them.

I do have an updates blog. Follow it here and subscribe for alerts when I post.

Thank you for being here! It really does mean so much to me to share this story with you. Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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in-my-feels-probably · 10 months

Note

Hi, could you write a Nikolai X Shadow Summoner!Reader with the songs "mirrorball" and "the archer"?

You can that would be cool but if not not that's fine also🙂

Holding Onto A Mirrorball

Request: Hi, could you write a Nikolai X Shadow Summoner!Reader with the songs "mirrorball" and "the archer"?

Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, I was busy for a while and then I had writer's block. I had some fics I needed to post new chapters for, but I’m ready to start doing requests again. This turned out to be really long, I just kept writing and writing and it got a little out of hand. Sorry, hopefully it was worth the wait to get to this length. Thank you again for being so patient, and I hope you enjoy!

Just wanted to warn you first, I don’t know how to translate things, and I don’t know how to speak or write in these languages. I used as many already translated words and phrases I could find in Ravkan and used them where I could, but sometimes I had to use Russian where I couldn’t find the right phrasing. And I'm not sure if it’s correct, sorry if it’s wrong, it’s just little things here and there I thought it would be cute to use it for.

Also, I made the reader the Darkling’s sister. It was easier for me to write that way, so hopefully that’s alright with you. If not, and you want me to alter this or write you something else, I’m happy to do so :)

(Warnings: swearing, shitty translations, death, mentions of Genya’s assault, let me know if i missed anything)

—

I'm a mirrorball

I can change everything about me to fit in

I never grew up, it's getting so old

Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey

You have lived a thousand lives.

Your Mother was Baghra, the daughter of Morozova, and your older brother was Aleksander, otherwise known as the Darkling.

Like your brother, you were a Shadow Summoner as well. Merzost created your powers, but unlike him, you weren’t an amplifier. You were strong enough against other Grisha, but against him, you couldn’t hold your own.

In your early life, you didn’t need to be capable of beating him.

You loved him like any sister would love their brother. And he never would have hurt you with his powers, knowing that you’d never do anything to hurt him with yours.

In the early days, he hardly used his powers at all. Grisha were persecuted more in that age than any other time in history, and your Mother warned you both never to use your powers in front of the otkazat’sya. You lived a nomadic lifestyle, never staying in one place for more than a month at a time. You could recall one instance where you had to leave earlier than normal—enduring your Mother’s wrath—because your brother accidentally let another Grisha child touch him.

It was a single moment of forgetfulness on his part. But it nearly ruined your family.

You had to be no older than ten, and he was a few years older than you. A pretty girl fell and scraped her knee at the bank of a river on the outskirts of a village you were staying at, and Aleksander offered his hand to help her up. He had no idea she was a Squaller, she had kept quiet about it herself. But the second he took her hand in his, the gentle breeze around you picked up into a storm’s gust, strong enough to take down the nearby trees.

She had ripped her hand away, eyes widening in fear. Aleksander stood in shock, unable to get his feet to move. The world had yet to harden him, and he lived in constant paranoia of people discovering his secret. Despite being the younger of the two of you, you had to be the one to save him.

The girl tried to run back to the village, no doubt ready to tell everyone what she had seen, but you wrapped her in a cloud of darkness before she could leave. Not enough to hurt her in any way, just enough to temporarily blind her so she couldn’t see which way to run. By the time the cloud disappeared, you had grabbed your brother’s hand and frantically dragged him halfway home.

Your Mother was furious, but far more scared for you than she was angry with you. You fled that evening, not stopping till you were miles and miles away.

That night, Aleksander sat you down after your Mother had gone to sleep. “I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. You shouldn’t have had to do that for me.”

“You would have done it for me,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes off of the embers of the fire he had built.

You were freezing, but you couldn’t afford to make the flames any bigger. Someone could see, and if they were hunting you, it would make it that much easier for you to get caught.

Sighing, he took off the outer layer of his coat, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“You’ll get cold,” you said, trying to take it off.

But he stopped you, shaking his head. “I’m warm enough. Just take it. Consider it a token of my gratitude for what you did today.”

You finally relented, staying silent. He grinned at his victory, turning himself back to the fire. You both were quiet for the rest of the evening.

It was the last time you talked about what you did for him.

As the years passed, the world hardened him. It hardened you both, but it affected him far worse than it did you. He began to shut you out, not confiding in you as much as he used to. You knew he was lonely, but his pride wouldn’t let him open himself back up to you. And as years turned into decades, you stopped pushing.

The worst day was the day he created the Fold.

His experimentation with darkness was one you didn’t condone, but there was nothing you could do to stop him. And while you blamed him for the Fold’s creation, and could never forgive him for it, you also understood. You felt pity for him, even.

The King’s Army killed his love at the time, and he could no longer turn a blind eye to the horrors committed against Grisha. In a blast of fury and grief, the Fold was created. Its drastic effects weren’t anticipated, even by him, and so you couldn’t truly blame him for it.

What you could blame him for was his plan to weaponize it.

But in order to do that, he needed a Sun Summoner, and that type of Grisha was nothing more than a myth, at least to your knowledge. In all your lifetime, you had never come across one, or even heard a whisper of one’s existence. So, you had to wait. And waiting meant living, your life dragging on.

It was exhausting, never growing up.

You reached maturity, and practically stopped aging. Despite your growing resentment for your family and your powers, you stayed by your brother’s side. Leaving him would mean being completely and utterly alone, and you didn’t think you could handle your existence on your own. You struggled with your powers as is, and only having two other people alive with the same powers as you meant that you had no choice but to stay with him.

You did try to leave, once. It was drastic, and you were emotional about it, and you had almost convinced yourself to go. But in a rare moment of vulnerability, your brother practically begged you on his knees not to go. He promised to do better, and shocked from his cracking resolve, you begrudgingly believed him.

Every so often, you’d have to reinvent yourselves. Throw people off your scent before they could realize that you never aged. You took on dozens of aliases, and eventually, you were detached from yourself. From your old life.

It was a blessing and a curse.

Eventually, you made it all the way to the Little Palace. Slowly but surely, the Second Army full of Grisha was formed, and your brother took the head position as General to rule over them all.

You stayed and trained, eventually finding peace with being around people who were like you. Grisha, who were loved and wanted for their powers. Feared, but because of what they could do, not because of who they were. You grew into yourself, and so did your brother.

You were foolish enough to believe he had changed.

But when the Sun Summoner finally came along, you knew just how wrong you had been.

He collared Alina, enslaving her to his will. He took her powers, controlling her to do his bidding. In one day, he decimated an entire city with the might of the Fold. You tried to fight him and help Alina and her friends, but he was just too strong.

When he was supposedly killed, you were devastated.

You didn’t think you’d feel so strongly about his death until the day it came. You watched Mal fight him. You watched the Fold—a creation of his own making—take him. And when it took him, you fell to your knees. You thought the grief would swallow you up whole.

But then you felt a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up to see Alina.

And with her came hope.

One day, she would be strong enough to destroy your brother’s creation, and you vowed that you would be by her side to help her. You had spent far too much of your life standing by while Aleksander made people suffer, and you wouldn’t let the Sun Summoner—a powerful but innocent girl barely of age—be one of his victims any longer.

—

Combat, I'm ready for combat

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

I know they said the end is near

But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes

Spinning in my highest heels, love

Shining just for you

The mix of emotions you felt when your brother appeared to you out of the Fold hit you like a punch to the gut.

You had returned to the Little Palace to help the First and Second Army rebuild.

The King and Queen were left in shambles, along with their eldest son. Their youngest had yet to return, and you hoped he would be more competent than his family was when he finally made the choice to come home.

But more than anyone, you came to help your Mother.

She was distraught after what happened to Alina, wracked with guilt under the weight of what her own blood could do. She was glad to have a daughter who wasn’t like him, but she had a difficult time with you, too. If she had trained you better, or spent more time with you, maybe she could have made you stronger. Maybe she would have felt like she could trust you enough to tell you earlier what her plan with Alina was, and maybe you could have stopped your brother before he did what he did. Now he was gone, and all she had left was you.

And she wasn’t sure that was enough.

You had barely returned home before you heard the news of the sightings of your brother. You didn’t believe the reports. You wouldn’t believe anything unless he was standing in front of you, and you could see him with your own eyes.

And in his usual fashion, he made quite the entrance.

Despite your hatred for what he did, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit of relief that he was alive. He was family, and there was nothing you could do to change that. And part of you could still remember the sweet little boy he was, always kind to you and protective over you. You wished you could have that back, and you couldn’t let go of the possibility that maybe that piece of him was still somewhere inside, buried deep.

You couldn’t help yourself the second he knocked on your door, rushing into his arms like a scared little kid.

“It’s alright, little sister. I’m here,” he murmured, holding you tight.

You asked him how he managed to stay alive, in shock at the trail of events that happened after Alina pulled the skiff from the Fold. You noticed the scars along his face as he spoke, a sick feeling settling in your stomach.

It slowly dissipated as he told you how he saved a band of Grisha including Genya, one of your only friends you had at the Little Palace. While your brother was feared, he was also respected. You were just feared. And making friends didn’t come easy to you, so you were quite alone until Genya came along. She made everything better. People didn’t like her much either, so the two of you were isolated together.

Knowing he saved her showed that there was a small part of him that was still good.

Of course he had to crush any bits of hope you clung to when he tried to turn you to his side. He preached about his cause, wanting you to pledge your loyalty.

“We can start over,” he pleaded, holding you by your shoulders. “We have all the time in the world. Join me. Help me find Alina. We can do extraordinary things if we work together. We can take our country back.”

“I knew there was darkness in you, but I never could have imagined you’d fall this far. Is our country worth the lives of thousands upon thousands of innocents? Is the Fold really so precious to you that reducing Alina to nothing but a weapon is justifiable? Is it worth it?”

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “If it means liberating our people, I’ll kill every last one of them myself…and I’ll use Alina to do it.”

“Have you learned nothing over all these years?” You asked, ripping yourself out of his hold. “They’re people, Aleksander. Just like Grisha. Alina is not a pawn for you to use. You’d think after all these years that you would have learned a little compassion.”

“Compassion? You want me to have compassion for the girl who just tried to kill me? For the tracker, who wants nothing more than to see me dead? And all of the miserable insignificant people who would sooner watch me burn at the stake than try to make peace?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t want peace. You want to win. You want everyone pinned under your thumb, so you can bend them to your will. Don’t speak to me like your heart lies with our people’s interest. It lies with your own.”

“It used to lie with you,” he said softly, his jaw clenched. “And it can again. I saw the little girl in you today. The one who was missing her older brother. The one who cried for him when she thought he was gone.”

“Don’t—” You choked out.

He interrupted you, taking your hand. “Come back to me. Stay by my side. Help me find Alina, and I promise, we’ll do great things. And when it’s done…we’ll go. Just you and me. We can start over and live the life we were supposed to live, not mourn the one that was taken from us. Join me. Please.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up, clouding your vision. You squeezed his hand, taking a breath, before you let it go. A tear slipped down your cheek as you dropped his hand, bringing yours back to your side.

“I love you, brother. Probably more than I should. But I will not be a part of this. I won’t watch you destroy yourself like this, and I most certainly won’t help you do it.”

“Y/N—”

“Do what you must. I can't stop you. But I’m praying to the Saints that Alina can. And if you’re forcing me to choose a side, then so be it…I choose hers. I’m sorry.”

And then he did something you thought he’d never do. Something that—despite all his evilness and wrongdoings—you never would have expected him to stoop so low as to utter with nothing but pure hate in his voice.

He called you nichyevo.

Nothing.

Ironic then, how you’d later discover that the shadow army he created from the Fold to guard himself was called the nichevo’ya.

Nothings.

You gasped, taking a wobbly step back as you spoke through gritted teeth. “How dare you? After all that I’ve put up with for you. I’ve stuck by you! And you can’t find it in yourself to treat me with an ounce of love?”

He remained quiet, his face stone cold. You shook your head, backing up to the door.

“I’m going,” you said, fighting back tears. “To somewhere I’m wanted. Somewhere I’m needed.”

His laughter was dark. “Nobody needs you, little sister. Do you know what the townspeople call you? Koroleva Nabresh. They’ll always fear you for what you are. They’ll never see you as anything else but a weapon.”

Queen of Shadows.

“Then I’ll be her weapon,” you spat, opening the door. “I don’t know where Alina is, but I swear to all the Saints, I’d rather die trying to find her than live to see her fall.”

He was angry now, but there was a glint of fear in his eye. “She’ll never want you. There’s no one in the world out there who will ever want you. I’m all you have.”

“I’ve heard enough! Goodbye, Aleksander…I hope that after I’m gone, you’ll realize that you’ve just lost the one person who has ever truly cared about you forever.”

—

You by some miracle found Alina a few weeks after you left the Little Palace.

You knew she was looking for amplifiers, and there were whispers that the Sea Whip had been found. The next step for her would be to regroup and figure out what to do next, including researching where another amplifier could be found. You knew your brother would be looking for her as well, so you had to think strategically about how to find Alina.

One of the few perks of being centuries old was knowing all the potential locations battered and bruised Grisha would gather in times of war.

The Spinning Wheel was the first place you looked.

After all, you were alive when it was built, and you knew that it started as a Ravkan base. Now, although technically part of Fjerda, it was abandoned and unpatrolled, open to anyone who needed to claim it. And a band of Grisha and First Army soldiers who knew of its existence would know that as well.

You were right, arriving soon after Alina did.

And who else would she be backed by other than Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan Throne? Otherwise known as Sturmhond, an infamous privateer whose name you had heard over the past few years numerous times. Whispers of him stretched all the way from Novyi Zem to Ketterdam.

Nikolai and his crew, Tolya and Tamar, seemed quite protective over Alina, as was to be expected. It was still a shock though, to have a sword, axe, and pistol pointed at your face all at the same time.

“She’s Koroleva Nabresh, Alina,” Tamar warned.

“How do we know you aren’t with him? You're his sister,” Nikolai asked, keeping his gun raised.

Alina was quick to step in front of them. “She won’t hurt me. Y/N hates him as much as I do. She wouldn’t have come all this way unless she was on our side. She fought with her life in the Fold, and we couldn’t have beaten him without her. Stand down.”

“She’s right,” you said, but you kept your hands raised in surrender to help prove your point. “If I wanted to kill any of you, I could have done it the second I reached the gates—”

“Not a good start, love,” Tamar said, but she was slowly lowering her axe with a curious look in her eye.

“Just hear me out, please…I promise, I will never use my powers to hurt any of you. I’m not like my brother, I swear. I hate what he’s done, and if I was as strong as him, I would have tried to stop him sooner. But now…he’s gone too far. I see that now. And I refuse to stand by any longer while he leaves chaos and devastation in his wake. I’d rather die fighting for the right side than live another day under his control. And Alina, I’m so sorry it’s come to this. I should have come to you sooner. But if you let me stay, I will fight for you. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, and whatever it takes to make sure my brother can’t hurt anyone ever again. I have intel on him, I know how he thinks, and I know how to fight him. Alina, please…let me help.”

Alina didn’t know what it was about you, but she knew she could trust you. Nobody had been more manipulated and betrayed by your brother than you had, and if you had finally left him, it was for good. Alina and her friends watched you silently, before they all turned to her for an answer. It was up to her to decide who she wanted protecting her, and they would respect any decision she made. They could offer advice all they wanted to, but in the end, it was up to her.

And when she placed her hand on your arm, giving you a sympathetic smile, they respected her choice.

“Welcome,” Tolya greeted politely, offering you a hand to shake. “You’re making the right choice.”

“I know,” you agreed, trying to ignore the guilt and sorrow that was building up in your chest.

Later that evening after an introduction to everyone—and a debrief on what they had done so far and what they were planning to do next—you found yourself alone with the Prince himself. He was in the observatory, looking through a telescope when you walked in the door.

“What are you doing up so late, Your Grace?” You asked, lightly chuckling when he jumped at the sound of your voice.

“I could ask you the same question,” he mused, taking a calming breath. “And don’t call me ‘Your Grace.’ Nikolai is quite alright with me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, nodding. “Nikolai it is, then.”

“Are you alright? Settling in?”

You shrugged, fidgeting with your sleeve. “I guess so. I couldn’t sleep. I’ve never been on my own this long, and certainly not this far. I just…don’t really know what to do with myself right now.”

Nikolai nodded, grinning. “I know the feeling. I get it every time I return to court. Out at sea, I’m in my element. But back home? I was raised there, and yet it is the most foreign place I’ve ever been to.”

“I’ve heard of your adventures at sea. Sturmhond is quite the character.”

“He’s alright. A bit cocky for my taste, but he’s dashingly handsome and charming, which I think makes up for it,” Nikolai mused, his grin widening when you smiled.

“Clever,” you grinned.

It was quiet for a moment as he kept his gaze on you, leaning over his desk. He finally stood up straight, stepping around his desk to come stand next to you.

“You’ve very brave, aren’t you?” He finally said softly, giving you a look of genuine adoration.

You flushed, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

“For leaving your brother. You say you hate him, which may very well be true, but he’s still your brother. You’ll always care for him in some way. And I know how old you are—well, generally speaking, I’m not actually sure about the exact number—and I know you’ve been with him a long time. It took a lot of courage to leave his side. He could have reacted harshly—”

“He did,” you interrupted, internally berating yourself when you realized you had said that out loud. “I mean, uh…well, I told him I was leaving for good. To find Alina, wherever she was. He tried to convince me to join him, but I told him I wouldn’t help him or stand by while he wreaked havoc. And…he called me nichyevo.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened in shock. “Nothing.”

You nodded, casting your eyes to the floor. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. Crying over your brother wasn’t worth it, and you had already mourned him once. You wouldn’t mourn his loss a second time, even though he was still alive. You were pulled from your thoughts when a warm hand rested on your arm. You looked over to see Nikolai, smiling warmly.

“I know we’ve never met, and I don’t know much about you. But I can say with absolute certainty that you aren’t nothing. He’s wrong. I promise you, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. As far as I can tell, you are quite far from nothing.”

You smiled. “Actually, we have met once. Well, I met you.”

His eyes widened. “What? When?”

“Aleksander made us return when your brother came of age. The King was looking for a new General, and my brother was ready to take over the position again. We attended a party for your brother, and you were there. You looked positively bored to tears, and ready to escape the first chance you got. But your Mother was watching you, and I could tell she wouldn’t have been kind if you misbehaved in front of all her guests.”

Nikolai smiled at the memory, suddenly realizing. “I remember! Saints, you’re the girl who slipped me a drink. I had to choke it down—Mother always did like the strong stuff—but it made the evening more bearable. I tried looking for you later, but you must have already left.”

“I left soon after my brother talked to the King. And by the time we returned to the palace, you had already been shipped off to the other side of Ravka, and then you joined the First Army. I never got another chance to meet you, until now.”

Nikolai stood up from against his desk, offering you his hand. You hesitated, but eventually his warm smile pulled you in, and you let him take yours. He gave it a squeeze, running his thumb along the back of your knuckles.

“I must say, it is nice to meet you…again,” he chuckled, letting your hand go. “I’ve heard stories. I’m glad to know that most of them aren’t true.”

“Stories? Do people actually talk about me?”

He shrugged. “People talk about the Darkling—”

“And Koroleva Nabresh,” you finished, sighing. “I guess that’s my fault for staying with my brother. I can’t blame them for assuming I’m the same as him.”

Nikolai shook his head. “You’re not like him. Like I said, I know I haven't known you long…but you’re not him. And if Alina trusts you, I trust you.”

“How optimistic of you,” you mused, making him smirk.

“Unfortunately, it’s who I am,” he grinned, huffing out a laugh. “Anyway, since we’re both awake…I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. And before you say no, I promise I won’t ask you how old you are. My Mother would skin me if she found out I inquired about a lady’s age.”

You didn’t know what it was about him, but he was incredibly easy to open up to. You had spent the whole day—and the past few weeks—feeling incredibly guilty about leaving your brother. It was the right choice, but that didn’t mean it was an easy one. And you had felt completely and utterly alone…up until now.

For whatever reason, call it boredom or loneliness, you couldn’t say no.

“Well, since we’ve got that question squared away…I’d like that. Ask away.”

—

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

And all of my heroes die all alone

Help me hold onto you

Over the next few weeks, you became good friends with Nikolai. And eventually, you became more than friends.

He was one of the only people that made you feel welcome.

Tamar and Tolya were nice enough, but they were often busy. And Mal was always by Alina’s side, never gone for long. He was nice too, but wary. Alina was perhaps the most understanding, but she was by far the most busy. Training took up most of her days when she wasn't attempting to look for the Firebird. Zoya—the one person other than Alina that you actually knew beforehand—had traveled to Ketterdam on Nikolai’s orders, and you had yet to see her again. Everyone else didn’t know you personally, and they seemed angry at you or afraid of you, steering clear.

If it weren’t for Nikolai, you’d be entirely alone.

You spent your days avoiding other people. One in particular was Nikolai’s Mother, the Queen. She wasn’t too fond of being in forced proximity with yet another person she considered a traitor to the Crown. It took Nikolai a week to get her to stop hurling insults, trying to order her guards to seize you at every opportunity. And while your days were spent in isolation, your nights were anything but isolated.

At night, you were plagued with nightmares, haunted by every mistake of your past.

The first few weeks, they’d come every night. And—unfortunately for you—Nikolai’s room was right next to yours. Although his crew became more and more trusting of you with each day, they still wanted to keep an eye on you. And they thought the best way of doing that was by keeping you close. Ten feet away from his guards at all times, to be exact.

Most nights, you could manage them yourself. You’d wake and pace around your room, distracting yourself until you fell back asleep or the sun came up—whichever came first. And you’d ignore them every morning, forcing yourself to forget about them until the next night. But on other nights, you couldn’t ignore them.

And neither could Nikolai.

Apparently, you had a habit of shouting in your sleep. For a week, Nikolai ignored the sounds, choosing not to talk to you about it the next day. Eventually, he started asking his guards to knock on your door and make sure you were alright. You thought nothing of it, assuming the people protecting Alina were just keeping an eye on you.

That is until Nikolai showed up at your door himself, wanting to make sure you were safe with his own eyes.

You stumbled out of bed and answered the door like normal, expecting a guard, when you took a step back in shock when you saw the Prince of Ravka standing in front of you. Cautiously, you opened the door, allowing him to step in. You desperately tried to ignore his lack of dress, pushing the image of his open shirt to the back of your mind.

“Nikolai? Are you alright?” You asked, turning to sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

You still marveled at the room they put you in. While your brother’s quarters were fit for a king, yours weren’t even in the same wing of the palace. You had forgotten how absurd the decorating in these types of rooms could be, but even you couldn’t deny how comfortable a couch in front of a roaring fire on a cold evening was.

“I’m fine, darling,” he said, sitting down next to you. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He grimaced, letting out a sigh, as if breaking the news to you was just as hard on him as it would be on you. “Well…you were screaming. In your sleep.”

You tensed, sitting up straight. “Was I?”

“Don’t be coy,” he mused, though his tone was still gentle. Cautious. “You know as well as I do that my guards have looked in on you at least three nights this week.”

“Shit,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

“Didn’t think anyone would notice?”

“Didn’t think anyone would care,” you corrected, raising a brow when his eyes softened on you. “I didn’t realize that was what they were doing.”

“You think I don’t care?”

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you to. You hardly know me.”

“You’re on our side now,” he explained, looking you in the eye. “For better or for worse, that means something to all of us. To me. I may not know much about you, but no one deserves to live their nights in fear. Trust me, I know. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Not even my brother?” You asked, and Nikolai was silent for a moment as he pondered your question.

“No,” he finally said, shaking his head. “Not even him. It’s strange, but I don’t wish them on him at all. He’ll pay the price for what he’s done, and that’s enough. Nightmares…those kinds of dreams haunt anyone. And—with all your brother has done—I imagine his nightmares must be quite the show. I want him to suffer, that’s true…but not like that.”

You were at a loss for words. Nikolai possessed an amount of empathy that shocked you, even after all that he’d endured. His love for people and his compassion to make life better for everyone around him was one of his most endearing qualities, as you’d learned in your short time together.

Nikolai laid a hand on your arm, dragging you from your thoughts. “Is that what you were dreaming about? Your brother?”

You sighed, nodding. “He was part of it, yes. I won’t bore you with the details.”

“No, no…I want to hear. Seriously, you can tell me, I'm here to listen. If you’re comfortable telling me, that is,” he said.

His hand slipped down your arm into your open palm, intertwining your fingers. The action was innocent, but you could feel your cheeks flush as he gently squeezed your hand. You took a breath, preparing yourself.

“Well…it always starts the same. In the village my Mother brought us to when I was a child. We were on the run again, trying to find somewhere we’d be safe—at least for a little while. Anyway, Aleksander was trying to teach me to use my powers. He was always better with them than me. Quite the natural. It’s weird, every time I have this dream…it starts out good. Must be some sick little joke. Karma for sticking with him for so long.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Please, continue.”

You nodded, taking a breath. “You know what the Cut is right? Alina has been practicing her version of it.”

Nikolai’s face grew grim. “Yes…your brother seems to have been using it as of late. Officers of the First Army have been sending in reports of—how should I put this—uh…how remains have been found.”

“God, I wish Mother hadn’t taught him how to do that,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Anyway, he was the one who taught me to use it. Mother figured it was better I didn’t know how to.”

“And let me guess. He thought otherwise?” Nikolai asked, making you nod.

“He taught me in secret. I was always…I don’t know…afraid of it, I guess? And then Aleksander showed me that I controlled it, and that it didn’t control me. I control all of my powers, and I can use them at my own will. It’s my choice.”

Nikolai squeezed your hand in his, running his thumb along the back of your palm. “I’ve never seen you use it. I’ve never seen you use your powers at all, actually.”

“I don’t use them unless I have to,” you replied, watching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. “The last time I did was in the Fold, against the Volcra. Against him.”

Nikolai nodded, giving you a look of sympathy. “Did you use the Cut?”

You nodded silently, flinching at the memory. It had been weeks now, but it still felt fresh. Raw. You took another grounding breath, letting it out slowly.

“Yes. You didn’t meet them, but there was another group there from Ketterdam. Zoya may have mentioned them. Aleksander had cornered them in the back of the skiff while he stayed up front with Alina. He tried to take out the sharpshooter—I think his name was Jesper—and I stopped it. I aimed right for my brother just as he raised his hands. He barely missed Jesper, but thankfully he did. He had to step out of the way to avoid the Cut, and it threw off his aim I guess. Saints, you should have seen his face. It was like he’d never seen such betrayal. He didn’t think I was capable of doing that to him.”

“Tell me about the dream,” he coaxed gently, trying to get you not to dwell on that memory. “What is it that has you so scared?”

“Like I said, he taught me to use the Cut. The dream always starts out with the first time I did it right. I chopped down an apple tree that was growing in a nearby field. We took the apples home and Mother made some sort of hot cider with cinnamon.”

Nikolai smiled gently, his grip on your hand never wavering. “That sounds lovely.”

“It was,” you murmured, smiling sadly. “But that part of the dream is gone nearly as soon as it begins. Then it suddenly cuts to the first time I saw Aleksander use it on a man. A Fjerdan…Drüskelle. We had joined other Grisha by then, and we were attacked. And just as quickly as he kills that man, he turns to me. And it’s like I’m floating above my body. I can hear myself, and I know I’m screaming myself hoarse. Pleading with him to stand down, begging him to let me go. I’m his sister, he has to let me go. And—despite how hard I try—it always ends the same. There’s nothing I can ever do to change it…it feels so real every time. Every night.”

“What happens? Does he kill you?” Nikolai asked softly.

You could feel your vision clouding. You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to calm down. You wouldn’t cry over your brother, not again. He had already inspired enough of your tears.

“No,” you finally replied. “No, he doesn’t.”

Nikolai gave you a look of confusion. “What happens then?”

“I kill him. Shadows bleed out of me, and wrap around him tightly. He turns red in the face, struggling against them. He pleads for me to stop, and every time I tell him the same thing. That I’m not doing it, that I don’t know what’s happening. And he tries to get me to control myself, and tells me how strong I am—”

Your voice began to waver, and you choked back a sob. Nikolai waited patiently for you to continue, remaining silent.

“No matter what I do, it ends the same. The shadows hold him tight, and I watch myself raise my hands. I can hear myself crying, but it happens anyway. He’s crying too…and then he’s cut into pieces.”

Nikolai is quiet for a long moment before he comes up with something to say. “Saints, Y/N…I’m so sorry.”

You sniffed, quickly wiping under your eyes. “That’s where it ends. At least, I think that’s where it ends. I always either wake up on my own, or I hear a knock on my door from one of your guards. I have you to thank for that.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s pulling you into a hug. Squeezing you tight, refusing to let go until you wrap your arms around him. You sit in silence together for a long while, nothing but each other’s shallow breaths reaching your ears. After one last squeeze, he pulls away.

“You’ll come tell me the next time it happens, won’t you?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “And wake you up? No, I wouldn’t dare. I’m fine, Nikolai—”

“That’s not fine, darling,” he affirmed, making you look at him. “Listen…I know what those dreams are like. I used to get them, too. And I know my nights would have been a hell of a lot better if I had someone there. Someone who understood.”

You gave him a nervous look. “Nikolai, I don’t think so—”

“I’m not asking you to have me at your beck and call,” he grinned, trying to lighten up the mood. “Just on the bad nights. The nights where you know they’d be better if you had someone to be with for a little while. Trust me, it’s no bother. I’m up half the night anyways, I’ve never been a good sleeper. If anything, you’d be saving me from boredom.”

You wanted to say no, but the look in his eye was telling you that he needed this too. Something was stopping him from admitting it—maybe his pride—but he needed someone just as much as you did. And for him, you could force yourself to every once in a while swallow your own pride and get up to knock on his door.

“If you insist,” you finally relented, offering a small smile. “Who would I be to deny a Prince?”

From that night on, you followed his orders. It was embarrassing at first, finding yourself in front of his door, but he was more than welcoming.

He was more often than not still awake at his desk, rummaging through maps and papers. He’d greet you with a smile, offering you a drink. On other nights, he’d have a tired look in his eye, but he’d never turn you away. You’d tell him that he could go back to sleep, but he’d insist on staying up.

You’d find yourself on his couch, and he’d talk and talk and talk until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His head would roll, landing on your shoulder. You never had it in you to disturb him, and you’d stay on his couch the whole night, falling into a comfortable sleep yourself. And in the morning, he’d complain about a pinched nerve in his neck, telling you how you owed him a massage. You’d always laugh it off, telling him how he could always kick you out when he was tired. And every single time, he’d shake his head, telling you he’d suffer through a pinched nerve if it meant keeping you company.

Eventually, your couch sessions moved to his bed. It was a large bed after all, and incredibly comfortable. You tried to decline the first time, but he waved you off, telling you to get over yourself and be an adult about it. You had narrowed your eyes at him, but relented, finding yourself waking up the next morning still curled up in his sheets.

It had been the best night’s sleep you had gotten in years.

You continued on like that for a while, skipping the couch entirely. You’d enter his room with a smile, immediately making yourself comfortable at the foot of his bed as you kicked off your shoes.

He was right, of course, about being an adult about these sorts of things. There was never an uncomfortable moment, or a moment where either of you tried something that the other wouldn’t like. It was entirely innocent sleeping in his bed, and neither of you had even for a second considered going back to your old arrangements.

You’d both been sleeping the best you’d ever slept, and you knew it was because you had each other there.

His guards never again had to knock on your door. They stayed stationed outside of his, happy to have not been scared half to death by a rogue scream in the night.

You both eventually gave up on trying to sleep separately. Even when the nightmares would leave you be, Nikolai most certainly wouldn’t. He’d find himself growing restless without you, marching to your door and demanding you come and keep him company. You were more than happy to oblige him, knowing you slept infinitely better with him beside you. You reached a point where you stopped going to your room, instead getting yourself ready to settle in for the night, only to head straight for his door.

You reached a point where you stopped trying to refrain from touching each other, too.

When your nightmares would return, Nikolai was there. Easing you awake, staying up until you weren’t scared anymore. On the rare occasion when his would plague him, you were there for him too. It didn’t take much to calm each other. An arm thrown over a waist here, an ankle hooked around a leg there. You’d often find yourselves wrapped up in each other in the mornings, having to untangle yourselves when one of you needed to get up. On nights where you were both exhausted from a long day, it was easier just to flop into bed and curl up next to each other.

It was simple. Innocent. Pure.

A light feathery touch had no underlying meaning. You didn’t have to use your words, you could let your actions speak for you. It meant nothing more than wanting comfort, and you both were happy enough to give it to each other.

Any feelings attached came naturally, and neither of you had it in yourselves to turn them away. The alternative—keeping them close, and your hearts open—was infinitely easier.

And that’s what you did.

—

I'm still a believer but I don't know why

I've never been a natural

All I do is try, try, try

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

And when I break it's in a million pieces

When you found out what Aleksander did to Genya, you had never felt more guilty in your life.

You knew he had saved her the day he returned to the Little Palace, but you had yet to find her, and it was too late to when you fled. You kept her off your mind, filling your thoughts with nothing but the goal of finding Alina. And when you found her, your thoughts became preoccupied with a certain Prince. As the weeks passed, you were happier with him than you’d ever been in your entire life by your brother’s side.

You had almost forgotten the battle you were in the midst of until he came to remind you.

He attacked the palace, destroying half the grounds with a band of amplified Grisha. He brought his nichevo’ya, hurting and killing whoever he pleased to get what he wanted. Vasily, Nikolai’s brother and the Crown Prince of Ravka, was among those killed.

You had no plan or course or action, and you didn’t know how to react when once again confronted by your brother face to face. All you knew was that you had to get Alina and Nikolai to safety, and you’d do whatever was necessary in order to make that happen.

And yet again, you watched your brother fall.

Alina brought the foundations crumbling down, and he was trapped under the rubble. And what was even worse was…you helped her do it. Trapping him in darkness until the walls caved in. You knew better than to think he was dead, and it was only a matter of time before he showed back up to guilt you for not defending him. There was no time to think of that as you helped Alina and Tamar to safety.

After you escaped into the tunnels, you were trapped. There was no way out.

Not that you’d want to get out anyway.

You were trapped, that much was true, but being trapped meant being safe—relatively, at least. Aleksander couldn’t get to you, and he would have begun regrouping by now. There were wounded to tend to on both sides, and his attention would be devoted to them. That gave your side enough time to tend to the wounded and come up with a plan.

You found Nikolai pulling a sheet over a dead man in a very long line of dead men, grimacing when you lost count of just how many there were. You pushed the image of them to the back of your mind, rushing over to him.

“Nikolai,” you sighed in relief, offering him your hands.

He immediately turned at the sound of your voice, practically melting at the sight of you unscathed. He grabbed your hands, letting you pull him to his feet. The second he steadied himself, you found yourself wrapped up tightly in his arms. You were pretty sure your feet were no longer on the floor, but you ignored the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck. You remained quiet, giving him a moment to breathe.

“I lost you in the chaos,” he finally murmured into your shoulder. “I thought he got you.”

You shook your head. “I’m alright, I had Alina and Tamar. Aleksander is down, for now at least. Adrik was hurt, but Nadia is with him and they’re both going to be fine. What about you, love? Are you alright?”

His shoulders fell as he looked around, glancing over to see his Mother, distraught and in tears still surrounded by her guards. First and Second Army soldiers alike were frantically running around, tending to people and arming themselves. Alina was with Adrik and Nadia, asking anyone who passed by if they had seen Mal. Nikolai turned back to you, his own eyes clouding with tears. He took a shuddering breath, his shoulders beginning to shake.

“Vasily.”

You frowned, taking his hands again in yours. “I’m so sorry, sladkiy mal'chik. I should have tried harder to stop him.”

Sweet boy.

“I just—” He wavered, gripping your hands tight.

You shook your head, pulling him to a corner away from prying eyes. “Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Breathe…take a minute, I’ll be right here. I’m right here, whatever you need. Saints know how many times you’ve been there for me…let me be there for you.”

Nikolai nodded, taking a breath. He eventually crouched down, sitting on the floor, and you immediately followed him down. You sat across from him on the ground, letting your joined hands rest in his lap as he eased his breathing. It was quiet for another moment as he gathered himself, before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I just—I can’t breathe, I don’t know—I just…he’s my brother. I wasn’t that close to him, and I know he wasn’t a good person—he almost got us all killed just for the sake of his pride, I know that—but…he was my brother. He wasn’t always like this, you know, he didn’t deserve this….he was the first person who tried to teach me to sail when my Father wouldn’t. Father said I was too young, but Vasily showed me anyway. And now, just like my Father, he’s dead. They’re both gone, and I don’t know what to do. My Mother…she’s all alone now.”

You felt the pit in your stomach grow, your heart clenching as you watched him break. He was right. They were both dead.

And it was all because of your brother.

You frowned harder, squeezing his hands tight. “You don’t have to explain yourself, darling. You loved them both, and that’s okay. I hate my brother. I hate what he is, I hate that he’s done this, and I hate that—of all the people in the world—he’s hurt you…but I also can’t help but love him, too. I don’t know why, that’s just how it is. I understand, believe me. You can’t help who you love. And I am so sorry about the King and your brother. I'd give anything to change it and bring them back. I’m so sorry, Nikolai.”

You couldn’t help but choke back your own tears now, the pit in your stomach only growing when you felt his hands leave yours and come up to wipe the tears away when they inevitably fell. Your heart clenched in your chest as you looked up at him through wet lashes, seeing the concern and compassion on his face.

He was so sweet. He was so unbelievably good. And he was in pain.

But here he was, on one of the worst days of his life, trying to make you feel better. Unable to stop himself from trying to help you, because he didn’t have it in him to watch you suffer. He didn’t want to watch anyone suffer. He had empathy and love pouring out of him, radiating through you, and it was enough to take your breath away.

“I’m so sorry—” You whispered again, only to be cut off by his palms cradling your face.

“Stop apologizing,” he said firmly, pausing as he let you reach up and wipe his own tears away. “Stop saying you’re sorry, Y/N. It isn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do. We did our best.”

You nodded, trying to let his words sink in. You reached up and pulled his hands away from your face, intertwining your fingers with his. He swiped his thumbs across the back of your palms, his breathing mirroring yours.

“What do you need me to do?” You finally said, clearing your throat. “You look overwhelmed, and I hate it. I'd prefer you sit down, but I know you, and I know you won’t do that, so…how can I help?”

He offered you a small smile, squeezing your hand. “I’m fine over here, milaya. Ask Alina, and don’t let her take no for an answer.”

Sweet girl.

You smiled back, nodding. You reluctantly let go of his hands, heading off to find Alina. Nikolai was right, she did argue and try and put you somewhere else. But a warm hand on her shoulder and a comforting smile was enough to put a crack in her resolve, and she finally shook her head and accepted your help with all the tasks she had apparently single-handedly taken on.

It felt like days before everything seemed to settle and everyone could take a breath. And of course once things did settle, chaos erupted around you yet again.

You had no idea how anyone managed to find you.

But you knew they did when the ceiling above you started rumbling, clouds of dirt breaking off and raining down on you. The rumble could be felt all throughout the cave floor, and it was enough to send Nikolai running back to yours and Alina’s side, Tamar hot on his trail. You watched in shock as you heard your Mother’s voice, scolding Genya for working too slow.

They appeared out of the darkness together, and you nearly fell to your knees as your Mother came into view.

“Baghra?” Alina asked once they rounded the corner, led by Tamar who had helped them down.

“Not the Grand Palace, but it’ll have to do,” Baghra said, her eyes scanning the room before they fell on you. “Y/N…you’re here. Finally left Aleksander, then?”

Nikolai stood closer by your side as you sputtered and wavered, unable to form a coherent response. You were saved from further embarrassment by Genya, who had slowly rounded the corner just as you mustered up the courage to say something.

Your eyes widened in shock when you took in her face, scarred and marked in the same way your brother’s had been.

You stumbled back, tears once again clouding your vision, the sound of static between your ears. You could hear the muffled conversation happening between Genya, Alina, and Nikolai, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You were too busy scanning all the jagged edges of her scars, something deep in you telling you that there was nothing in the world that could have made these marks other than your brother himself, and his shadow monsters.

“The Grisha who poisoned the King?” Nikolai asserted, pulling you from your thoughts as you heard what he said sharply.

Talks of treason and trials made their way into the conversation, along with the notion that, although Nikolai was now considered King, it was only because of Genya’s role in the first King’s death. Everyone continued to argue amongst themselves, Genya practically shaking where she stood as she let Alina defend her. You couldn’t bear to see her like this, forcing your feet to move as you slowly approached her.

“You can’t blame her, Nikolai,” you murmured, gently cupping Genya’s cheeks as you locked eyes with her. “You can’t blame her anymore than you would blame me. I know Genya, and I know she would never do anything to hurt anyone unless her life and the lives of those she loves depended on it. If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame anyone else but her. Me, the King, my brother, it doesn’t matter. But know this…we failed her, Nikolai. My brother used her for his own selfish ambition…and she endured your Father’s abuse and your Mother’s wrath every single day with a strength I don’t think anyone in this room could ever have possibly hoped of possessing. She is the best of us. My closest friend, and you cannot punish her for this. Please.”

Genya’s hands grappled for yours, and you pulled her into your arms as you spoke. Nikolai’s eyes softened on you as you held her close, and you silently pleaded with him as you ran your hands up and down her arms, her own secured around your middle.

“Did he force you?” Nikolai managed to spit out, preparing himself for the blow the truth would surely deliver.

“I,” Genya started, taking a deep breath as she continued. “I never sought his attention.”

You kept her close, nodding in confirmation when Nikolai’s gaze turned to you. “I am sorry that you’ve lost your Father, but his death was kinder than he ever was. Look at her face, Nikolai. There was no one behind this but my brother, and this was his punishment for her crossing him. The King is no longer alive to pay for his crimes, and my brother will pay for his one day, so please…don’t make her pay for the part she had no choice in playing. What they’ve done to her is more punishment than she will ever deserve.”

You could tell Nikolai was internally battling with himself. But the longer he looked at Genya’s face, the more he knew that he couldn’t punish her. She had suffered enough, and he wouldn’t be the third Lantsov to add to her suffering.

“You’re safe here, Genya,” he finally said, taking a gentle step closer to her. “I will not harm you, and when I am King, I will do all I can to try and make up for what has happened to you. I’m so sorry.”

Genya let out a breath of relief, and you had to hold her tighter to keep her steady. Alina came to her side, easing her from your arms and leading her away, Tamar following closely behind them.

When they were out of earshot, you turned to Nikolai. He looked ready to keel over, and you felt your heart sink as his shoulders fell, the weight of his position pressing him down with a pressure he couldn’t bear.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered, his hands beginning to shake. “I knew my Father was capable of some awful things, but…I didn’t know.”

You quickly shushed him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms came up to wrap around your shoulders, and you could feel his cheek resting on the top of your head. He was clinging to you tightly, his breathing unsteady. You pressed your cheek into his chest, gently swaying you both back and forth.

“You know….I’ve always had this sort of false hope that Aleksander would change one day. That he would see all the horrible things he’s done, and choose to change. After all these years, I still find myself desperately looking for something good in him. But I know now that I’m not going to find it. And yet, I disappoint myself every time looking for it. I want to believe in him, but I think it’s time I start believing in someone else. Someone worth it.”

“Like who?” He murmured, his cheek still pressed into your hair. “Yourself? Alina? You’re right darling, those are definitely better choices than your brother—

“You,” you interrupted, feeling him go rigid in your arms.

He pulled away, holding you at arms length. “What?”

“You,” you said again, giving him a small but warm smile. “I know you’re not King yet, but you just showed me how prepared you are for becoming one. What you did for Genya was kind, and gentle. I saw the look in her eye when she realized that you would be different from the Kings before you. You’re so good, Nikolai. And Ravka needs someone good. Someone like you. I’m sorry about the circumstances that led to you becoming King, it’s not fair, but you deserve it more than the rest of your family ever could.”

He shook his head as he listened to you speak, standing up straight. “No, I don’t. Look at this place, Y/N. Your Mother was right. I’ve been away too long, things have changed—”

“You can change things, Nikolai,” you said firmly, taking his hands. “You’ll have the power to, and I trust you to do it. I believe in you.”

He took a shaky breath, looking down at you solemnly. “You shouldn’t.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands tight. You ran your thumb along the skin on the back of his palm, silently comforting him and hoping that he could feel and know just how much you cared for him and believed in him.

“You’re not going to convince me you aren’t worth following. You thinking I shouldn’t is exactly why I should. You don’t ask for blind faith, and you understand that you have to earn loyalty. You don’t force it, like my brother or the King did. Instead, you show people why you’re worth believing in. There’s no one I’d rather follow, Nikolai. No one.”

Nikolai took a deep breath, looking away from you and towards the ground. He couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him.

Like he was the sun.

He tugged you closer, once again hiding his face in your hair. He couldn’t come up with the right words to say, only holding you tight. His heart was pounding and he knew his palms were sweaty, but you were holding them anyway, smiling against his chest. You stood like that a moment longer, before you both got back to work.

—

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you

The day your brother died, you knew you were completely and utterly alone.

A few days prior, news of your Mother’s death reached you. She died holding Aleksander back, and it saved Alina and Mal. When you found out, Nikolai had to spend the night awake with you, holding you close in silence while you clung to him.

You weren’t with Aleksander when he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to watch him fall again.

You knew Alina would be safe with Mal and Zoya, who had brought back the Crows with her. With Nina and Inej as additional help, Alina would be fine without you. She didn’t need you hesitating when the time to kill Aleksander finally came. So, you went with the rest of the Crows, Nikolai, and his crew, choosing to help them when everyone had to split up. You had mere seconds to decide, but you followed Nikolai into the ruins, leaving you brother behind forever.

Everyone fought with everything they had.

Nikolai almost died, pinned up against a pillar with the claw of one of Aleksander’s nichevo’ya imbedded in his shoulder. You tried to pull it back, but even your powers couldn’t stop it. You had almost lost all hope when it suddenly dissipated, sending Nikolai crashing to the floor.

Tamar rushed to his side, pulling him up. “Kirigan must be dead!”

It was like the wind was knocked out of you, but you forced yourself to keep it together, hooking an arm under Nikolai’s and helping him stand.

“Y/N—” He said sympathetically, but you shook your head, keeping your grip tight.

“Don’t,” you breathed, trying to keep him steady against you. “Just keep going.”

Everyone filed out of the building, the bright sun blinding you all. The Fold was gone, once and for all. It was eerie, seeing the flat open land without the stain of merzost.

You looked around for the rest of your friends. Alina was nowhere to be found, and you assumed she had stayed with Mal—wherever that was.

Inej suddenly came over the hill to reunite with her friends. She was carrying something by her side. You looked down to see that it was the Neshyener sword…and it was coated in black blood. You held your breath, your eyes meeting hers. When her face fell, and she gave you a solemn look of sympathy, you knew whose blood it was.

You knew your brother was dead.

You let out a sob, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Your knees slammed into the ground, crunching down against the gravel. You could feel the jagged edges digging into your skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest that was threatening to rip you apart. You dug your hands into the sand, desperately trying to ground yourself and stop crying over a man not worth your tears while everyone stared at you, having no idea what to say or do to comfort the girl who had lost her Mother and brother all in the same week. As you heaved another sob, you felt two hands on your shoulders. You looked up to see Alina.

She knelt down next to you, pulling you into a hug. “Do you want to see him? I can take you to him, Zoya is keeping watch.”

The thought of your brother’s dead body made you want to vomit, and you shook your head, tears still rolling down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“He’s gone,” you cried, clinging to the back of her jacket. “He’s really gone.”

“But you’re not. You’re alive, Y/N. We’re all alive and here because you had the courage to leave his side. Ravka is safe from him now. Our future King is safe. We couldn’t have done this without your help. Thank you for helping us.”

You wiped your tears, nodding. “I know it’s for the better. I know he deserved it. It just…it still hurts. It hurts so bad. He wasn’t always like this.”

“I know,” Alina murmured, squeezing you one more time before letting you go. “It’s alright to mourn him. In some ways, I’ll mourn him too. But you’ll be alright. I promise. We’re all here.”

You felt another hand on your shoulder, and looked up to see Nikolai. He had been patched up a little bit, no doubt the work of Genya’s powers. He still had blood caked in his hair, and a tourniquet tied around his leg. The sight of him injured lessened the ache in your chest for Aleksander, and you took a breath, drying your tears.

He offered you a hand, pulling you up when you took it. “Come with me.”

You gave Alina a grateful nod, before turning and following Nikolai. He led you by the hand all the way to his skiff, which was empty. Everyone was still either guarding Alexander, treating the wounded, or regrouping down by the ruins. You let him lead you on board, sitting next to him on a crate on the deck when he patted the spot beside him.

You reached up, wiping away some of the stray blood on his temple with your thumb. “Are you alright?”

“Genya patched me up,” he said softly, letting you momentarily deflect from what was really on your mind. “I’m fine, I promise. Everyone else is too. I expect they’ll be going their own ways soon enough. We have a country to rebuild.”

He slipped his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. You leaned into his side, your gaze set in your lap.

“And where will you go?” You asked, sparing a glance at him. “Back to the palace, I expect?”

He nodded. “It’s my duty to my country. Like I promised Genya…we have to do better. Things have to change for Ravka. And I need to be the one to do it.”

You nodded, looking back towards your lap. Nikolai frowned, brushing his shoulder with yours as he tightened his grip on your hand.

“What about you? Where will you go?”

His question made you spiral. You shook your head frantically, hopping down from the crate. You paced back and forth in front of him, eyes once again welling with tears.

“Saints, I am so sick of crying,” you muttered under your breath, wiping away the fallen tears.

Nikolai quickly stood, trying to calm you down. He eventually grabbed you by your shoulders, holding you still. He shushed you, trying to get you to look at him.

“Look at me,” he murmured, speaking firmly when you tried to pull away. “Y/N…look at me. What is it? What can I do? Talk to me.”

You finally met his eyes, standing still. “I don’t know what to do, Nikolai. I don’t know where to go. Everyone has someone to go home to, but I don’t know what that even is for me anymore. My family is gone, and half the Little Palace hates me. Where do I go? Who do I have?”

You continued to spiral, Nikolai’s eyes widening in shock as he listened to you speak. You continued, your hands gripping his sleeves as you clung to him.

“I don’t know what we are, Nikolai,” you choked out, embarrassed to even say it. “But…I don't think I can bear not having you in my life. As pathetic as that is, I don’t think I can do it. You’re just about the only good thing I have left, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You continued to ramble, sending an ache rattling through Nikolai’s chest. He could feel his heart breaking at your words, and he finally stopped you, cupping your face in his palms. He held you gently, like you would break into a million pieces if he applied enough pressure. It made him want to burst into tears. He shushed you again gently, his thumbs resting against your jaw.

He had effectively silenced you, and you waited in nervous anticipation for him to speak. His eyes met yours, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he breathed you in.

“You think you can’t come with me?” He finally asked, his face falling when he realized you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him wanting you to stay. “Of course I want you to come with me. I want you by my side. Yes, everyone else might have someone to return to and a home waiting for them. But you have me, Y/N. You have a home with me. And I want you to stay. It’s you and me.”

You couldn’t wrap your head around his words, absentmindedly leaning into his touch. “Really? You’re serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life. You were there for me when I needed you most, and now I’m going to be there for you. I’ll always be there for you. I won't let you let me go. You’re stuck with me. As your King, I’m commanding it.”

You stifled a laugh, breathing him in. “You’re commanding it? I guess I can’t say no, then, can I?”

“It wouldn’t be wise,” he grinned, pulling you closer. “I’m very powerful, you know. Lots of friends in high places.”

You nodded, letting your hands wander up to cup his cheeks. He smiled wide, letting his hands settle around your waist. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, gazing down at you lovingly.

“You’re going to be alright, Y/N,” he murmured, running his fingers along the base of your spine. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You were never going to get over his positivity and resilience, two qualities on the list of his neverending endearing qualities. You couldn’t help but smile up at him, his hopefulness rubbing off on you. You believed him. It was going to get better, and you would be alright. You could feel it.

“And you’re going to be a good leader,” you mirrored, giving him a grateful smile. “We can make sure of that together.”

—

A/N - Hi! Nikolai, my favorite mirrorball, I hope I did him justice with this. It’s SO long omg I’m sorry, but hopefully that makes up for the ridiculous amount of time it took me to write this. It honestly feels a little like I rambled the whole way through this fic and I kinda hate it but I also really like some parts, and I spent too long writing it, so I gotta put it out. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think :)

#nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadowandbone #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #taylor swift #the archer #mirror #folklore #lover

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chloeangelic · 5 months

Note

Since hot slut - Seeking What is Desirable Joel - got BUTT ASS naked immediately in someone else's guest room with ladybug.....

Can you describe in a bit more detail what he looks like naked?

*Disrespectfully

Ask and you shall receive - everything under the cut~

seeking what is desirable Joel - body and 🍆 HCs!

Rating: 18+ Warnings: Discussions about dick and cock and height/size difference kink, references to our lord and savior Manuel Ferrara

I see him as being about a foot taller than Ladybug - I’m 5’8 and my bf is a foot taller than me so it’s more about Joel being tall than Ladybug being short or small. He’s generally a big guy, and - not to ruin anyone’s immersion so LOOK AWAY if needed - but when I write for them I tend to visualize them as like 5’5 and 6’5 tbh. She's definitely not petite by any means, not skinny or small, just sort of average height. Jeremiah is about 6'1 I think.

Let’s do this head to toe, shall we? This Joel can be read as show or pixel Joel, however his nose and hair are more consistent with show Joel cause he’s my man. He has very broad shoulders, muscular arms and chest, definitely a dad bod cause he’s softer around the middle and has a solid insulation layer so nice soft tummy but if he were to flex when you poke him, you’d feel some abs under there. Nice chest hair, mix of brown and gray, not too thick but not sparse either, just a solid layer you can see his skin through. Normal amount of dark arm hair as well. We’ve all seen that screen grab of Ramon from that pornstar first date thing, of the tummy and the thigh grab? That’s a good representation haha

He has a very nice and thick back, wide lats and nice lower back muscles. Can definitely see his traps well when he’s wearing t-shirts. Some veins on his forearms but mostly pronounced when he’s working or at the gym.

He’s def the type to unintentionally have kind of a juicy ass and thick quads from working out - not as juicy of an ass as Manuel, however, but I have taken a lot of Seeking inspo from the video of him and Naomi Swann, especially for ch 1 (I sometimes watch that video just to get into the headspace to write for them lmfao, would recommend). He has hairy legs, the hair growth tapering off a little mid-thigh and up, and big feet. Probably shoe size 14/15.

Dick and cock wise… Let’s see. He probably used to be in the habit of trimming his pubic hair but stopped giving a fuck a while before ch 1 - it’s mentioned that he looks like hasn’t seen a razor in a few months. It’s dark, thick, but definitely not too long. When Ladybug enters the picture, he goes back to slight trimming so it's still full coverage, still thick, perfect for rubbing against, but not long enough to wrap around your finger entirely, you feel me?

I’d say he’s 8.5-8.7” fully hard, very thick and proportional from base to tip with a very slight taper at the end, has a few thick veins that bulge but he’s definitely not covered in them, I think they mostly just run along the bottom half of his length. Proportionally sized balls - I know some people are into massive balls but one time my friend showed me a pic of a guy with massive balls and it honestly just freaked me out, like, his entire bulge was 90% BALLS and I was not into it. I see him as a shower tbh, like he’s probably 5-6 inches soft. His erection is so heavy that it doesn't stand out 45 degrees from his body like a lot of dicks do, I think it probably just sort of chills around parallel with the floor if he's standing.

New chapter on Tuesday !!!! Enjoy !!

#seeking fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #chloe answers

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toru-oikawas-milkbread · 1 year

Text

Sleepy Cuddles With Diavolo

Pairing: Lord Diavolo x f!reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings/contents: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Notes: I don’t think I really have much to say for this. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it was so much fun to take his character and make him such a sweet and loving fiancé who’d be on your side no matter what. So, with the thought in mind, I rolled with the idea and 2k words later, here we are! I hope that you guys can enjoy this chapter!

<>~<>~<>

Truth be told, the rumors were getting to you. That you were only with Diavolo because he was someone so important. That you were less interested in him and more his money, his heritage, even his body. For the longest time you laughed them off, but it seemed as the years went on they were only growing more intense.

To battle off the annoyance you felt from the constant rumors, you decided to get a job. Going from a child who had everything handed to her in the Devildom to falling for the young Lord, you’d never so much as needed to think of getting a job to make cash. But now, you simply weren’t in it for the money. Instead you were trying to appeal to the people of the Devildom. You thought that maybe if you showed yourself to the public more, if you were viewed as more than Lord Diavolo’s fiancée, that people would see you as more than a lowly gold digger who’s dried up money drove her to any length possible to continue the lavish life that she’d lived.

So you got a job at one of your favorite restaurants: Hell’s Kitchen. A constantly busy, understaffed restaurant that was always looking for new employees.

Often times you ended up serving your oldest friends; Beelzebub, Belphegor and occasionally the other brothers when they would tag along. After joining the Hell’s Kitchen team, you were surprised at how quickly everybody, even the customers, had welcomed you to what some pessimistically teased you as calling “The lower world.” However, Beel’s words were at the front of your mind when people said such things to you.

“Don’t worry about them. They don’t matter. More people here like you than dislike you.”

After a month now of working daily at Hell’s Kitchen, you’d grown accustomed to the working life; you’d grown fond of the regulars and even made friends with most of your coworkers, as fleeting as some of them may be. After some time, it seemed at the rumors were slowly dying off. That your plan to get people to realize you were in it for the long run with the entirety of the Devildom was working.

However you weren’t ready to leave the place you’d joined almost reluctantly a month ago. You felt like you were at home when you were at Hell’s Kitchen. As much as you missed getting in bed with Diavolo and instead coming home after he was already asleep, you were enjoying the time you spent with other people.

But that didn’t mean that you weren’t sometimes more exhausted than normal when you returned back to the place that you called home with Diavolo. With a yawn, you leaned back into the dining room chair and rubbed your tired eyes. You quickly opened them and sent a smile at Barbatos as he poured you a warm cup of your favorite, sweet smelling tea and set it in front of you.

“Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Of course,” he said politely. “You seem more worn out than usual tonight, if you don’t mind me saying.” You took a sip of your tea and nodded before speaking.

“Today was extremely busy and two people quit yesterday so more tables than normal were left up to me alone.”

“Is that why you had to work more hours?” He inquired as he used a feather duster on the shelf by the window, though he was clearly listening as he worked.

“Yes, that’s why I went in early and stayed late. But I don’t want to complain, I saw Beel and Mammon today as well as a few other regular customers and their families. I got some very generous tips today. I think that I’ll give them to Mammon, he’s always complaining about what he owes in debt, though I have my doubts he’d use this money to settle them and instead he’d most likely buy something that will end up laying on the floor sometime soon.” You added the last bit with a soft laugh.

“Is all of this exhaustion, worth it?” He asked, catching your attention. You sent him a confused frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t mind, it seems as if you’re rather exhausting yourself further than needed for some small rumors.” With a small gasp, you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it. The air was thick for a moment before a familiar tone broke it.

“Barbatos is right.”

“Young Lord.” Barbatos greeted Diavolo with a smile and a gentle bow.

“Diavolo—“ You spoke, but your fiancé raised a hand to silence you and took the seat across from you.

“You’re beyond exhausted.” Barbatos grabbed another cup and pored Diavolo a cup of steaming tea before he quietly excused himself from the room. “This isn’t the same part-time gig that you told me you were looking for."

“Diavolo, you don’t understand— I’ve invested myself in Hell’s Kitchen. I know the customers, I know the chef’s— I’m one of the only servers left. I can’t leave.”

“I’m not asking you to leave. I’m asking you to take it less seriously.” You frowned lightly and took another sip of your tea.

“I can’t take it less seriously; that’s not how I know how to work. That’s not how I do these things.” Diavolo gave a soft sigh and reached a hand across the table, offering comfort for you that you easily gave into.

“Barbatos is right, my darling. You’re exhausted. You’re working long hours. I permitted this when you were only working a few hours a day to show the people of the Devildom that you weren’t simply using me to get somewhere higher,” you flushed and looked down, unaware that Diavolo had known your plot all along, “However this has gone too far. You’ve more than proven yourself.”

“I should have known that you would see right through me,” you said with a sigh.

“I hear the rumors. I see the way that you slowly started to let it in. You suddenly taking a job at Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t surprising, but I didn’t think that it would go so far.” He stood, keeping ahold of your hand and helping you up out of your chair. “Come now, my love. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let me clean up real quick—“ You started, however Barbatos was quickly behind you gathering the cups.

“You’re going to replace me if you keep cleaning up after yourself,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll handle the cleaning tonight.”

“Thank you, Barbatos,” Diavolo spoke, gently tugging you along to the stairs to head to your shared bedroom. “Come now. Let’s get to bed.” Sighing, you followed the man with no complaint. Things were silent on your way to the bedroom. He opened the door for you, closed it behind himself, and crossed his arms while you sat on the end of the bed. “Be honest with me.” There was no strict guidelines. He knew that there was more on your mind than you were letting on. You had never known that you were so predictable in his eyes.

“I am.”

“There’s things you’re neglecting to tell me. Not hiding, not lying about, but neglecting. I’d like you to be honest with me.”

“Oh Diavolo… why do you have to know me so well.”

“In this moment, I believe that’s your saving grace.” He sent you a gentle smile as he spoke. “My love, what’s going on?” Gently, the man sat beside you on the end of the bed and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. “I just don’t think that you’ve been yourself lately.”

“I have been.” With a sigh, Diavolo stood again.

“One of these days, I’ll get your guard down. For now, come lay with me.” Your fiancé stripped his jacket off, not bothering to put it away like he usually does. Diavolo took his shoes off and pulled the thick comforter back, laying beneath the sheets on the bed and offering an arm for you as you slowly stood up. You gave in, laying on the bed with the man and moving against his side. “How was work today then? You were gone an awfully long time.”

“It was so busy,” you started, though minding your words carefully. You didn’t want to complain; Diavolo had the entirety of the Devildom on his shoulders, you felt wrong complaining about anything to him. Especially since you knew that he would only make you feel listened to and be there for you. It made you feel selfish to think about. “But it was a good day— Beel and Mammon stopped by for a little while near the end of my shift. I had a quick snack with them before they left when it was closing time. A couple regulars came in, some with their family.”

“It sounds like it was quite crowded today.”

“Extremely.”

“Are your feet tired? Would you like me to rub them for you? I can only imagine that it wasn’t very comfortable to be standing and running around all day in your work shoes.”

“I can’t complain too much.”

“You never do.”

“Well— that’s not true. I complain.”

“Very rarely.”

“There’s nothing to complain about.” Diavolo gave a quiet chuckle and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You always say that. You know, even optimists can have rough days that they need to complain about,” you frowned and went to speak, but he quickly cut you off “— maybe complain isn’t the right word. Maybe vent is the appropriate term.”

“I have a good life. I’m happy.”

“Then even happy people can have rough days.”

“I really don’t have anything that deserves to be complained about.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked with a small frown.

“It supposed to mean that you have the entire Devildom looking up to you and Barbatos has the future and the past in his eyes, and he’s constantly working all day long. Lucifer has his brothers that he’s always looking after and Levi and Belphegor are extremely misunderstood and they need help.”

“I see. You feel like your problems are not justifiable. Is that it?”

“No, I just… do we have to keep talking about this?” You frowned., your temper growing short “It’s been a long day and I don’t want to have this conversation.” With another quick kiss to your forehead, Diavolo spoke.

“We can talk about it later.” With a huff, you nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Will you just let it go?”

“Absolutely not.” He spoke the words that you knew you were going to hear, one’s that you already heard in your mind before you even finished your sentence. “Maybe I do have the entire Devildom on my shoulders, but you are my first priority. And if you think that life is stressful for me, you’re incorrect. I love my position. Barbatos knows that when he’s tired, he can take a break. Lucifer loves his brothers. Belphegor is growing closer to his brothers and Levi is warming up to people. Everything is okay with everybody else right now. And if everything with you is not okay, then it won’t be okay until we fix it, and that is okay.”

“I hate that you’re always so encouraging.” A laugh left the man as he rubbed your shoulder.

“No you don’t. You hate that you’re just wrong this time around.” He quickly teased you. “Now, please, promise me that you’ll open up to me soon. It doesn’t have to be tonight, maybe not even tomorrow. Maybe not even a week from now. But you can talk to me. We’re not engaged because we neglect to tell the other what tires us.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” You spoke softly.

“Never.” He spoke in a quiet tone. “Never could you be a burden. Certainly not to me. Now ease your minds of such futile worries and rest your head on me now. Good girl. Get some rest now. I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.”

#obey me #obey me x female reader #obey me x female reader fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x female reader #obey me diavolo x female reader fluff #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x reader fluff #obey me imagines #obey me stories #obey me shorts #obey me lord diavolo

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hockeyboysimagines · 10 days

Note

would you write #1 from the smut list with Jarvy? I need more of him on this app thanks☺️☺️

So happy I got a Seth request. He’s definitely underrated and if you like reading about him, might I interest you in the fic I have for him? I’ll link it here!

Enjoy🤍

Seth Jarvis was a tease. There was no other way to describe him at this point and he was killing you slowly and he knew it.

His accidental touches and dirty text messages over the last few hours, had finally boiled over the second he closed the car door.

This is how you and him had ended up tangled in the back of the Tiguan, windows fogged up, thankfully because you were parked in a public parking lot.

He was more touchy than normal tonight and what would have been a quick make out any other time, was turning into something else. He had your skirt pushed up around your hips and was attempting to yank down your underwear, and hold you upright at the same time. The backseat was spacious enough to make it possible but not comfortable.

“What-what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as he slid them down your legs and undid the button on his jeans. Your chest felt tight and your breath was coming out in gasps as you reached forward and gave the hair that hung down the back of his neck a small tug.

He grinned “I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”

You felt your cheeks redden and looked around. The parking lot was not empty, not even close and there were people walking around everywhere. The others were still inside and it would be mortifying is Svech came out looking for you guys and saw something he shouldn’t, but the idea of getting caught was kind of hot. Seth sometimes forgot he was an nhl player and just did things that normal people would get in trouble for, but taking a risk like this was a big one.

“Really? right here? you know people are going to see us...”

The cheekiest smile you’d ever seen spread across his face and he moved his jeans out of the way, patting his knee.

“Jump on babe.”

The sensation of him inside never ever got old, no matter what the situation was. It was chilly and cramped in the car, and you were almost positive you had thrown your back out and had a brush burn on your right knee, but he had one hand fisted in your hair and the other hand anchored on your hip as you moved up and down his length. His lips moved across your chest tongue wet and hot against your skin and you gave a little shiver

You knew people were shooting looks at the car, and they definitely knew what was going on in there, and you were thankful for the window tint and the condensation on the glass so they couldn’t see that it was Seth Jarvis in the car and not someone random.

“Seth I think people know we’re-“ you braced a hand on the window, fingers slipping against the wet glass.

“Let them look.” He said breathlessly “Let them see how beautiful my girl is.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond because he started thrusting harder and your vision went fuzzy as you got smacked with an earth shattering orgasm. Breathing heavily you leaned forward, forehead pressed against his.

“Okay that was pretty hot.” You whispered in his ear, lips grazing his skin. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he looked down between you, reaching for your underwear and handing them to you.

He smiled “Told you. Now let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops for indecent exposure.”

“Really? No round two in the car?”

He raised his eyebrows “Oh you wanna go again?”

“Just figured since we’re already here, and you’re into exhibitionism now apparently. No one will see us at home.”

He smiled slyly, and started the car “We can open the blinds”

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ikatakoirl · 1 year

Text

We need to normalize criticizing our favorite works, pointing out shortcomings in representation while simultaneously celebrating how far that representation has come. I’ll go first.

The Riordanverse (Percy Jackson and its spin-offs) is hands-down one of the best examples of mainstream queer representation for kids. It was probably the biggest formative element of my early queer journey, and I am so grateful for everything Rick Riordan has done for the community. I will continue to support him and his works with all of my heart.

That being said, he has a problem with squeezing his representation into the very last pages of the book, confirmed but not explored. We have three confirmed queer relationships involving demigods:

Nico and Will, confirmed in the last chapter of the series

Piper and Shel, confirmed on the very last page of The Burning Maze.

Magnus and Alex, confirmed in the last chapter of the series (they did kiss a bit earlier)

P.S. I forgot about Lavinia until just before posting, but her entire lesbianism also is introduced and concluded in the span of about a page.

As you can see, it’s extremely consistent. Like I said, these are the only three examples of queer teenage relationships over Riordan’s five series, and they all happen right at the end. We also find that most of the straight pairings (Percy/Annabeth, Frank/Hazel, Jason/Piper, Tyson/Ella, and even things like Hedge/Mellie are confirmed in the middle of the series and given room to grow our at least be referenced back to.

It’s unclear whether this was a conscious or unconscious decision. Perhaps Riordan felt constrained by his publisher. Perhaps he was afraid that he didn’t have the proper background knowledge to accurately write the details of a queer relationship. Both of these are understandable and valid, if a bit disappointing, and I would much rather that he wrote them as he did than not at all.

However…

The good news is that it seems like he’s trying to fix it! He sprinkled in enough of Will and Nico in the first book of the sequel series Trials of Apollo for me to forgive him for their lackluster confirmation in Heroes of Olympus. But then he surprised us all by making Nico and Will two of the five main characters on the Trials of Apollo’s finale (The Tower of Nero), and I can tell you that the fandom ate it up!

But in case that wasn’t enough, soon after the release of The Tower of Nero, Riordan announced The Sun and the Star, now set for release this May! In this book, Nico and Will are the protagonist and deuteragonist, meaning the story will be entirely focused around them! And just to make sure Riordan absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s decided to co-write it with a gay author Mark Oshiro to make sure they can represent the characters accurately!

And… and the best part… Riordan has done his fair share of novellas and short stories, and ever since the announcement I had assumed that that’s what this was, but no! It’s a full-length book with 480 pages! To compare, that’s strangely enough the exact same page count as The Tower of Nero! I’m so blown away by how much Riordan has gone above and beyond with this book, and I’m insanely excited for it. Sorry this turned into The Sun and the Star propoganda, I didn’t know that the publication date was so close or how long it was until just now.

Anyway, where I’m going with this is that I have extreme respect for a creator who’s willing to listen to feedback from the kinds of people he is writing about and constantly grow from those mistakes! He’s still by far my favorite author of all time. Love you, Uncle Rick!

#lgbtq #rick riordan #solangelo #nico do angelo #will solace #magnus chase #alex fierro #piper mclean #percy jackon and the olympians #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #the sun and the star

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icey--stars · 1 year

Text

Stories To Be Told: Azriel x Reader

Series Index (complete series)

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Hi everyone- I write for ACOTAR a lot in my freetime, but I almost never share it. This particular one I'm posting is almost 30k words long so far, and isn't finished. It's a slow burn, obviously. I can't promise everything will be good, sometimes I skip around in my writing so that I'm not bored or losing motivation. So, when that comes, just do your best to imagine what happens in between, but know nothing of interest happened lol

I plan to split up the series best I can- but some chapters may be long, some short. Just depends on how I can split up my writing. Normally I don't write in chapters. I just... write. There are some POV changes, but they exist only in the beginning atm.

anyway. enjoy.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

I was carrying everything I had, on me, strapped with the bag that rested between my wings or on my person because it was a weapon. I peaked around the rock outcropping, spotting the city I was sneaking around down below. I didn’t mean any harm. I was just curious how everything was fairing, seeing as it had been about 15 years after Hybern.

I breathed just a little bit too hard, the great Illyrian wings behind me shifting around as I prepared to get a little closer to the city. If I could get in, that’d be great. Maybe I could afford to get some bread and cheese as a treat.

But then I heard the sound of a sword being drawn and I whipped around.

Two huge Illyrian warriors greeted me. One… one was covered in familiar darkness. Shadows. This… this was a shadowsinger in front of me. And there was only one shadowsinger I knew of in the vicinity. And he was right in front of me. I noticed the armor on both of the warriors next, 7 siphons a piece.

“Don’t move or we will kill you,” the warrior with longer hair growled.

I paused, hand resting at my thigh, just above a dagger sheathe, but I moved it up when I saw the shadowsinger eyeing the sheathe closely.

I knew who they were. The spymaster and general. Part of the Inner Circle of the Night Court. Under the High Lord, Rhysand, himself. Azriel, the shadowsinger and spymaster and Cassian, the general who had long hair apparently. Not that I judged him for it. I just preferred my clipper-short length, to long hair for fighting. It didn’t get in the way.

They kept their weapons pointed directly at me. I didn’t move, keeping my hands poised away from my sword sheath and out, but up and away from my weapons. This was bad. If they thought I was an enemy, I was fucked.

“What now?” I questioned, adding a bit of snarky tone in. “I’m not here to cause harm to you or the city below us.”

“As if we believe that. You’re strapped with weapons galore,” Cassian scoffed. “What even are you?”

I chuckled, lifting my chin up to reveal my six siphons that were attached to a leather collar around my neck.

“An Illyrian,” I responded. “Female, yes I know. Such a shocker.”

Cassian eyed me, but Azriel just seemed unnaturally still, as if frozen in place. But he kept his gaze solely focused on my hands and where they went.

“Why are you here?” Cassian growled, stepping closer with his sword. I backed up a bit closer to the cliff, putting distance in between us.

“I was curious what happened after Hybern, to Velaris and I came for food if I was able to walk in. Seeing as I cannot, I’ll leave you all in peace,” I responded.

“No,” Azriel spoke suddenly. First word he said the entire time. “You are heavily armed. So you will face an interrogation to ensure the safety of Velaris.”

I scoffed. “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

Cassian stepped forward again. I stepped even closer to that cliff.

“If you jump off that cliff, we will kill you,” the general reminded me. “So stop moving. If you are truly not here to harm anyone, prove it. Because currently you are carrying at least 5 daggers and a sword, and probably more if I had to guess.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not going with you,” I growled, wings flaring slightly in frustration. “Sorry for coming so close. I’ll just go to Hewn City next time, gosh. Nobody is allowed a bite to eat around here.”

Azriel suddenly leaped into the air, and too fast for me to dodge, he kicked my head, knocking me unconscious.

-----

My head pounded when I woke up, groaning as I flickered my eyes open.

I assessed my situation for a moment.

I was tied to a chair, wings tied at the apex to each other and limbs each strapped to a chair leg or arm. My weapons and things were gone. My siphons remained luckily, I noticed as I flexed the power, causing the dark blue stones to glow a bit.

I looked around the room best I could. Gray stone walls. A completely empty room. A wooden door behind me. Hard to spot with my wings. Probably did that for a specific reason.

I pulled at my ropes a bit. No budge. They weren’t coming off which meant I needed a way to prove my innocence to the literal spymaster of the Night Court.

The door opened behind me and I jerked my head around to see.

“Good, she’s awake Azriel,” a new voice said behind me.

The male walked around to let me observe. Bright violet eyes, no wings and tussle black hair. He had the tan skin of an Illyrian though, which was a bit odd. More footsteps came from the other side of me. Azriel, I noticed. He had a very well sharpened dagger out in his hand.

The door slammed shut behind me. Whether it was someone or magic, I didn’t know.

I took a deep breath and faced the two males in front of me.

“What is your name?” The unnamed male asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated. “Do you know who we are? And why you are here?”

“I don’t know you. I’m here because I was caught with weapons near Velaris and this idiot and the general are assholes,” I responded.

“Very well then. Let me introduce myself then. I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. Azriel, here, is my spymaster,” the male replied.

Shit, I thought. This was the High Lord? Oh I was going to have fun escaping this, I thought with a groan in my mind. Speaking of said mind, I felt a very sudden and violent attack on my mind’s shields. I tensed, building it up against the claws attacking. Just like Rainne, my master, taught me.

“A shield, interesting,” the High Lord mused. The attack on my mind stopped, but I was weary. “Who taught you to shield from daemati?”

“An old master,” I replied. “No one of concern.”

“No one of concern?” Azriel spoke up. “Why are they of no concern?”

I narrowed my eyes and glared at the spymaster. “Because they died,” I replied simply, turning away the best I could from the male.

“Why were you so heavily armed when sneaking around Velaris?” Rhysand suddenly asked, switching the subject which I was thankful for.

“I was curious of how the city looked since I last saw it during Amarantha’s time and I also wanted some food,” I replied simply. “My weapons are for my safety.”

“Why would you need all those weapons to prove safety? Are you trained as an assassin?” Azriel asked.

I chuckled. “Might as well be, but no. I need the weapons because Illyrian males from the camps don’t exactly like me.”

“Why is that?” Rhysand spoke.

“I escaped from a camp that’s run by an asshole who holds old grudges,” I replied simply. “You all don’t need my life story, so what do you want from me?”

“Escaped?” Azriel said, narrowing his eyes. His hand falling from where it’d been picking at his dagger’s edge. “Explain.”

I glared in his direction. “No. Fuck off,” I replied.

Azriel stepped forward then, a knife coming to rest under my chin, pulling my gaze up.

“Explain,” the male ordered again. Rhysand remained silent, watching.

“You don’t need my entire life-“ Azriel slapped my cheek hard. I snarled from the hit, reeling and struggling against my bonds.

But Azriel had frozen. He looked to Rhysand and then to me, and then he was gone, only a flowing bit of shadows remained for a moment.

Rhysand remained very still, staring at me more thoughtfully now. “Interesting,” he mused before he walked out the door.

I growled, thrashing in my seat. The slap hadn’t hurt, it just triggered an ingrained instinct to snarl when someone, especially a male, hits me.

I breathed for a moment, staring at the wall blankly. Nothing to do, I thought with a groan of boredom.

-----

Azriel was losing his mind. He’d slapped the female Illyrian he was interrogating and then something had slapped him in the face in return. The feeling of a knot in his chest, and a roaring instinct to stop what he was doing and instead protect said female in front of him.

So he’d winnowed out into open sky, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. There was a knot in his chest that was a bit uncomfortable, and it connected to a very loose string. It was beyond weird.

He saw Rhys flying out of where the interrogation occurred and coming straight for him.

“What was that?” Rhys asked as soon as he got close enough.

“Something was wrong,” Azriel replied. “Very wrong. I cannot hurt that female. When I slapped her, as if the touch caused it, a knot attached to a loose string now is attached in my chest and my instincts scream at me to protect the female.”

Rhys eyed him. Then the High Lord chuckled. “Interesting that your mate is literally the one you knocked out.”

Azriel’s gaze locked on him immediately. “What?” He demanded.

“The feeling you described to me sounds exactly like what I experienced with Feyre before she knew about the bond,” Rhys laughed. “Now this is just hilarious.”

“It is not,” He protested. Then softer, “are you completely sure?”

Rhys laughed. “You feel like you must protect her, right? If I wanted to slap her myself, would you willingly let me?”

Azriel’s instincts roared up all in unison. He shook his head to try and clear it. “Alright, fair point.”

A heartbeat moment later.

“Shit what the fuck do I do now,” Azriel breathed.

Rhys laughed, wings still beating against the air. “Well, first I say we let her out the ropes, and then we plan a formal dinner at the House of Wind and have a chat.”

“How the hell do I tell a female I literally just kicked unconscious that she’s my mate?” Azriel thought aloud.

“I mean, I did do some pretty bad things to Feyre before, so I’m sure it’s amendable,” Rhys offered. “Just take your time. Get to know her. Court her. Need I explain more?”

Azriel sighed in frustration. “What the fuck. Why now world,” he whispered to himself. Then louder so Rhys could hear. “Let’s go let her out I suppose. Make sure she’s aware she won’t be harmed first, and then invite her to dinner.”

Rhys nodded. “I’ll be your wingman, with wings,” he said cheekily.

“Idiot,” Azriel responded affectionately.

-----

About 30 minutes went by and then Rhysand and Azriel returned. I felt a sudden release of pressure as a knife was brought right up near the membrane of my wings to cut the ropes off. I barked out in sudden adrenaline.

Then Azriel cut my other restraints and I eyed him more closely.

“Be more careful with that thing,” I growled at Azriel. “My wings are right there and I don’t think you’d like a shape object that close either.”

“It was that or touch the wing. I think you prefer the former,” Azriel replied. “Plus I’m much more able with my dagger than you think.”

“Why am I being unrestrained?” I asked, standing up to even my height with theirs a bit more. I spotted wings on Rhysand and only let my gaze settle on them for a moment before I met Azriel’s gaze with fiery intensity.

Rhysand replied, “We’ve concluded you are most likely not a danger to Velaris. So, as an apology for these events, we’d like to invite you to a dinner at the House of Wind up on the mountain.”

I eyed them closely, massaging the ropes’ feeling out of my wrists and shaking it out of my wings. “Why,” I simply replied.

“We’re interested in you, that’s all. We’ve yet to meet a female Illyrian who claims to have escaped a war camp,” Azriel spoke up. “So perhaps we can talk over food in a more peaceful setting.”

I glared at them for a second. “If I get my things back, then I’ll go to your dinner.”

Rhysand snapped his fingers, and there, my weapons and bag were.

“How and when do I get to this House of Wind?” I asked, sheathing a few of my daggers. And putting my sword back at my hip. Just because they didn’t say they were going to hurt me doesn’t mean they won’t.

“It’s a short flight up this ridge. You’ll see the balcony,” Azriel replied. “Come when the sun touches the horizon.”

“And am I allowed outside in the meantime?”

“I’d avoid the city, but yes,” Rhysand answered. “We will see you later Y/N.”

Then they were gone. Winnowed away.

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #series #azrielxreader #acotar fanfic #cassian #rhysand #bat boys #mywriting

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sycamorelibrary754 · 3 months

Text

Guardian Angel

Chapter 7: Pinot's Palette

Summary: Your recovery is coming along nicely and it’s finally time for your first official date with Wanda. You go to great lengths to ensure that it is perfect.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. I hope you enjoy!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

Your phone emitted a small ding, pulling your attention away from the book you were reading. You glanced at the screen and saw the latest reminder in your schedule - it was time for your second follow-up appointment with Helen. Your heart sank a little as you realized that you were still unable to walk, which meant that getting to the Med Bay in your wheelchair would be a challenge, as always. To make matters worse, your left arm was still in a sling, leaving you continually reliant on your newfound friends to help you accomplish even the simplest tasks around the compound. You couldn't help but feel weary of the constant need for assistance, but you were hopeful for some good news today. It had been over a month since the accident and you were eager to get back to work soon.

Wanda had taken Billy and Tommy to soccer practice, leaving you on your own. Thankfully, Natasha kindly offered to accompany you to your appointment. Standing with her arms crossed, she watched as you tried to convince her that you didn't need her assistance. You showed her how you could use your right hand to push the wheelchair and then use gravity to move forward.

Natasha humored your demonstration for a total of ten seconds before she had enough of your stubbornness. She grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started pushing you down the hall. Frustrated, you grumbled but let the widow take over.

“Beep, beep,” Nat called out as she rolled you rolled into the Med Bay.

“Y/N, we’re all set for you,” a nurse announced.

“Want me to come in with you?”

“Sure,” as the nurse starts to roll you away.

You were familiar with the routine by now. X-rays and an MRI were conducted to evaluate your recovery. Fortunately, test results were instantaneous in the Med Bay. A luxury you were thankful for. A few minutes later Dr. Cho knocked and entered your room.

“Hi, y/n,” sitting down in front of the hologram interface and opening your patient file. “How are you feeling today?“

“Honestly, this week has been a bit tough. I'm still experiencing some soreness on the left side of my stomach and chest, but my headaches have become less frequent.”

“The discomfort you're feeling on your left side is normal after the splenectomy and the procedure on your punctured lung. You may experience some residual and referred pain for a while. I'd also like to remind you to avoid screen time as much as possible while you're still experiencing concussion symptoms,” raising an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t worry,” Nat interrupted. We’ll make sure she stays off the screens.”

“Overall, I'm pleased with how your recovery is progressing," Helen said as she brought up the images from your MRI. "The cradle has significantly sped up the healing process following your surgery. As you can see here," she pointed at the screen, "there is very little scar tissue and no inflammation around your abdomen or chest. This is exactly what we want to see.”

You appreciated Helen's optimistic and calm demeanor. She had been with you every step of the way since you were rushed into her operating room, and you weren't sure how you could have managed this last month without her.

“So, that was the good news,” rubbing her hands together. “Do you want to hear the great news?”

“That wasn’t the great news?”

“Your fractured ankle has healed well over the last month. This means that you no longer need to use the wheelchair," showing you your X-ray image. "Instead, we will fit you with a walking boot for the next couple of weeks. You can take it off at night, and if everything goes as planned, you should be able to remove it, along with your sling, in two weeks.”

“Wow," you said, running a hand over your face in relief.

If all goes well, I foresee you being able to return to work in a few weeks,” she added.

"Thank you so much, Helen.”

*^~^*

You and Natasha stepped off the elevator and walked into the common room. You realized that it had been a long time since you had walked anywhere and you would never take the simple act of walking for granted again. You took a seat on the sofa and checked your phone to see if Wanda had called. Since you had both been honest about your feelings, you couldn't go long without speaking to the redhead.

A hand reaches out from behind and takes your phone. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“You heard what Helen said. No screens while you’re still having concussion symptoms.”

“Come on, Nat,” you complained, reaching for your phone. “I feel fine right now. Wanda was supposed to call me after my appointment and I don’t want to miss her.”

"I’ll hang onto your phone and let you know if she calls,” holding it above her head.

Taking advantage of your newfound mobility, you stood up and tried to grab your phone with your good arm.

"Maria! Heads up," Natasha yelled to her girlfriend as she walked into the room.

The Deputy Director caught the phone in one swift motion before it hit her in the face.

"Please give me my phone,” you pleaded.

"Hey, you’re standing! That’s great.”

"Thank you, Maria. May I have my phone as a reward?"

She looked past you at Natasha, who shook her head in defiance.

"Sorry, y/n," she was just about to toss your phone back to Nat when it started ringing.

Maria smiled and showed you your phone screen lighting up with Wanda’s name.

"GIMMEE!" You shouted as Maria tossed it over your head to Nat.

Natasha answered the phone and switched over to the speakerphone.

"Hey, Wands," she said resting her head in her hand as she leaned on the counter.

"Nat? Why are you answering y/n's phone? Is she okay?"

"She’s fine. Helen just told her to stay off the screens for a bit while she’s still having some lingering concussion symptoms," Natasha said.

"She’s still having concussion symptoms?! We FaceTimed for an hour last night and she didn’t say anything. You tell her that we are going to have a long discussion about following Helen’s orders after I drop the boys off at soccer practice," Wanda said.

"Oh, don’t worry. She’ll get the message," Natasha responded with a smirk.

"Thank you, Nat. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

"Okay, bye," Natasha ended the call and promptly put your phone in her back pocket. "You could try to come and take it, but I warn you, I’ve taken down Hydra agents in less time than it would take me to push you over."

You grumbled and walked back over to the sofa with Natasha following you closely.

"That’s more like it," Natasha said, lovingly patting the top of your head. "Now, may I interest you in a peanut butter sandwich?"

"Sure… with chocolate milk?"

"Oh my God, what are you, eight?"

"Says the superhero offering me a peanut butter sandwich.”

"She’s got you there, babe," Maria snickered, plopping down next to you on the sofa.

"Fine," Natasha said before heading back into the kitchen.

"So, you and Wanda," Maria sheepishly grinned, as you turned beet red at the mere mention of her name. "That’s wonderful," patting you on the shoulder.

"Hey, watch this," she smirked. "Nat! Y/N wants marshmallow fluff on her peanut butter sandwich."

"Hell no! Do I look like I work at the Candy Bar?" Natasha yelled from the kitchen.

You both lapsed into laughter on the sofa.

*^~^*

You were having your lunch with Natasha and Maria in the kitchen when FRIDAY interrupted.

"Ms. Y/L/N, Ms. Maximoff is on her way up."

"Thank you, FRIDAY," taking another sip of your chocolate milk.

Natasha whispered to Maria, "This should be good."

You heard the elevator doors open to the common area. "Alright, where is she?"

"In here!" you called out, standing up and taking physical inventory just before Wanda entered the kitchen.

"You better not be looking at your phone or watching television because—" Wanda stopped in her tracks at the sight of you standing.

"You're... you're standing," she said, subdued by shock.

"Yeah, two more weeks with the walking boot and the sling, and then I'm fully mobile again," you said, a small smile curling your lips.

Wanda stood silently for a moment before running toward you. "This is wonderful, y/n. I'm so happy for you," she said, wrapping her arms around you.

You grunted slightly as she inadvertently squeezed your left side.

"I'm sorry!" she said, pulling back quickly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, still a bit sore on this side, that's all."

Wanda ran her hand softly over your side before looking into your eyes and then down at your lips. You sensed her intention as she kissed you gently.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Maria's voice cut through your intimate moment.

"Nat, Maria, when did you get here?" Wanda asked.

"Oh my God," Natasha exasperated. She pulled your phone out of her back pocket and handed it to Wanda. Maria simply wiggled her eyebrows and gave you a knowing smile as she followed Nat out of the room.

*^~^*

You lay propped up on Wanda's bed. You didn't change any of the decor, but the simple addition of your favorite books and fluffy blanket made her room feel more like home to you. Truthfully, you relished the opportunity to learn more about Wanda as you took in the intricacies of her favorite things meticulously placed with care around the space. Wanda traced shapes on your arm as she rested her head in your lap.

"That's a beautiful painting," you said, admiring the landscape on the wall above her armoire.

"It's the Valley of Sokovia," Wanda said lifting her head to follow your eyes. "My grandmother Katerina was a gifted painter. Before the war broke out, she would paint a variety of Sokovian landscapes across the country. She used to say that painting was her soul upon the canvas, a story of colors and rising hope.”

"I've admired it every day since I've been here. It's exquisite."

"It was on my grandparents' wall forever. It felt like it spoke directly to my soul in a language I knew at my birth. I wanted so much to paint like my grandma when I was a little girl, but Pietro and I had to grow up quickly and suddenly learning to paint didn't seem so important anymore," Wanda said, fidgeting with her hands. "After they passed, my mother hung the painting in mine and Pietro's bedroom to remind us that our home was beautiful. Not just a war-torn country forgotten by the rest of the world."

Your face softened at her story. "I'm so sorry that you grew up under those circumstances."

Wanda let out a deep sigh, her mind lost in memories of the past. “Despite the tumultuous times, there were moments of pure joy and happiness that I cherish dearly. Playing with Pietro, the aroma of our mother's homemade Paprikash in the air during family dinners. The nights spent watching classic American sitcoms with our father to improve our English.”

You listened to Wanda reminisce so vividly that you could almost see the memories dancing in the reflection of her eyes.

“They were simple yet beautiful moments that instilled a sense of gratitude in me. They remind me of all the blessings I have in my life - my health, my newfound family, my adorable boys. She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And you."

You looked down at Wanda staring up at you and couldn't help but smile.

"I feel the same way. The magic is in the little things,” you said, running your hand through her hair. "I was thinking... we haven't had our first official date yet, and I would love to take you out this weekend," staring down at Wanda's head in your lap. "If that's something you would like to do, of course," you added quickly.

"You're so cute," Wanda said, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "That is something I would very much like to do."

Your stomach exploded in butterflies. "Okay! Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. Umm, Saturday. Is Saturday good?" you asked, rambling happily.

"Perfect. Billy and Tommy are having a sleepover at a friend's house, so I'm all yours. What did you have in mind?"

"Hmm, I think you'll just have to wait and see," you smirked. "I want it to be a surprise."

*^~^*

“Help me!” You shouted as you burst into Yelena’s room.

“I would be careful about shouting that particular phrase in this building,” Yelena answered calmly. The blonde didn’t even bother to look up, too occupied with polishing her widow bites. “You’re liable to turn around to a variety of weapons pointed in your direction, candy maker.”

“I need some advice.”

“Is that so?” Putting down her widow bite and raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, it just so happens that I am excellent with the advice.”

“What happened?!!” Kate bursts in bow and arrow drawn with Carol by her side, hands glowing blue.

You tried to duck a potential shot, but you still didn’t have your balance and proceeded to fall back on your butt.

“See what I mean?” Yelena smirked.

“Jesus!” Your heart pounding. “Everything is fine, I just wanted Yelena’s advice on something.”

“Oh,” Lowering her bow with an heir of disappointment.

“We’ll just go then,” Carol said.

“No, wait. You can stay too. I need all the help I can get.”

Kate circled back to Yelena’s bed and Carol helped you up onto the couch with her.

Wanda and I are going on our first official date this weekend, and I was wondering—“

“Oh my god! That is so exciting!” Kate shouted. “Where are you taking her? Well, probably somewhere amazing, right? I mean it would have to be to impress the Scarlet Witch. That’s a lot of pressure. Wow, are you nervous? What are you going to do?”

You blinked a couple of times, as everything Kate just said hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Holy shit. What was I thinking? I don’t know what I’m doing. She deserves the best, I should just tell her I have to cancel,” you rambled as the blonde widow stood and walked toward you. “What excuse do you think would work best? Maybe—Ouch!”

Yelena gave you a soft slap across the face.

“What was that for?!” Touching your cheek.

“You were spiraling. Granted, it was Kate Bishop’s fault,” glaring over at the young archer. “Trust me when I say this, y/n. Wanda's outlook on life has changed significantly in the past year. What the little witch cares most about are her boys, everything else is secondary. Which means she must care about you to bring you into her world. Trust your gut, she will love anything you plan as long as you're together.”

“Wanda is sentimental,” Carol added. “She would love a date that you put some meaningful thought into planning.

“Sentimental and meaningful,” the wheels turn slowly inside your head.

Okay, Thank you three. This was helpful,” rising slowly from the sofa. “I’ll see you later.”

*^~^*

“You’re supposed to be resting!” Nat called out between punches.

“I was!” you shouted from the side of the ring. “I need your advice!”

The widow dodged her opponent’s punch then twisted his arm behind his back and pinned him to the mat.

“Take five, Bennett,” rustling the trainee agent’s hair before standing and walking towards you.

“What’s up?” Stepping out of the ring and wiping her face with a towel.

“Wanda and I are going on our first official date this weekend and I was hoping you could give me some insight on what she would appreciate?”

“Hmm,” taking a sip of water from her water bottle. “Wanda appreciates thoughtfulness, y/n. I know that sounds ambiguous, but it's true. Show her you're paying attention.”

*^~^*

The car arrived at Wanda's house at 7:00 pm sharp. You had wanted to pick her up yourself, but Helen and Bruce forbade it. They insisted that you needed to fully recover, with no shortcuts. This was how you found yourself in the back seat of Stark's 1959 Racing Green Aston Martin.

"Thank you so much for offering to drive tonight, Pepper," you said.

"No problem, y/n. We're happy to play a small part in your special evening," Pepper replied.

"Not to mention, your little destination is down the street from one of our favorite restaurants," Tony added from the front seat.

You grabbed the single red rose from beside you and took a deep breath.

"You got this, Willy Wonka!" Tony cheered.

You rolled your eyes at his nickname for you as you got out of the car. Walking up the embellished concrete path to her front door, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Stepping up onto the porch, you looked back at Tony and Pepper, smiling and giving you a thumbs up.

You took one final cleansing breath before ringing the doorbell. You heard footsteps on the other side of the door a few moments later, straightening your suede coat and running a hand through your hair just as Wanda opened the door.

"Hi," she said softly, blushing at you.

"Hi, wow, you look beautiful," you said, taking in her appearance.

Her red hair was styled in an updo bun. A few loose strands fell down the sides of her face. A white peasant blouse, light-wash jeans, and brown boots completed the look.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure if this was okay since you wouldn't tell me where we are going. You said casual date night..." she trailed off as she slipped on a rust-colored corduroy jacket.

"It's perfect," you said, handing her the rose.

"Oh my. Thank you, y/n. It's lovely."

"I was going to get you a whole bouquet, but I didn't want you to have to carry it or stop to put it in water," you rambled.

"It's perfect," she repeated your words.

You offered her your hand as you stepped off the porch.

She looked down at you and giggled, "I should be the one offering you a hand, sweetheart. You're down to two working limbs."

"I believe in chivalry," you said, smiling at the redhead.

You walked to the car and opened the door for Wanda. As she slid in, you followed behind her.

"Hi Wanda, good to see you," Pepper said.

"Good to see you too. Thank you so much for driving us tonight," Wanda replied.

"Okay, kids. Off we go," Tony announced. "Please keep your hands, legs, feet, and arms inside the car at all times."

*^~^*

The car slowed to a stop at the corner of Washington Street and Chester Avenue.

"Alright. Have fun, you two," Tony smirked.

"We'll pick you up in a bit," Pepper added.

“Okay, thank you again for the drive,” you said. “Enjoy your dinner!”

You watched the car drive off before reaching for Wanda's hand. She took your hand in hers and smiled at you.

"So, are you finally going to tell me where we're going?"

"You'll see," you sang as you walked hand in hand down the sidewalk a dozen or so yards before stopping in front of a shop.

Wanda looked up at the storefront lit up with fairy lights and read the sign:

Pinot's Palette

"What is this y/n?"

"You said you always wanted to learn to paint like your grandmother. I thought you might like to start tonight," you explained. "I signed us up for a 45-minute Paint and Sip class. They give you step-by-step instructions on how to paint a really beautiful picture, and there's wine and appetizers. I thought it could be fun," you trailed off shyly.

"I don't know what to say, I- this is so thoughtful, y/n. Truly."

"Shall we?" you asked, opening the door for her. You were greeted immediately by a tall brunette with glasses.

"Welcome to Pinot's Palette! I'm Sarah, your instructor for the evening. Your class starts in about 20 minutes, so you can go ahead and grab a glass of wine and some appetizers in the meantime."

"This place is so cute!" Wanda said.

"Agreed," you replied, admiring the warm and intimate space. A variety of paintings was displayed proudly on the walls from past classes.

Wanda poured both of you a glass of Pinot Noir. You swirled the glass a bit before taking a sip.

"Mhmm, delicious," you said.

"Definitely on the dryer side. Medium body with bright acidity," Wanda said, letting the wine breathe before taking another sip. "Silky tannins, with hints of raspberries, cherries, and vanilla."

You simply stared in astonishment. "Okay, that was incredibly sexy. How do you know so much about wine?"

"You don't know everything about me yet," Wanda smirked as she turned and walked toward the food spread.

You followed closely behind her like a lovesick puppy.

*^~^*

"Okay, welcome to Saturday Night Sip and Paint class, everyone. Tonight we're going to paint a simple yet beautiful full-moon lake scene. So let's get started!"

You and Wanda followed along as Sarah demonstrated each step on her canvas at the front of the class. You were thankful that it was your non-dominant arm in the sling, so you could still paint.

You started by mixing the perfect tints for your masterpieces. But, you couldn’t seem to get it right. Yours were uneven and messy, while Wanda's were solid and smooth.

Frustrated, you mutter to yourself, "This shouldn't be this difficult. I mix chocolate for a living, I should be able to mix paint." As you look up, you notice Wanda giggling at your struggles.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“Just a little bit.”

You can't resist the opportunity to make her smile. You dip your finger in the white paint on your palette and playfully boop Wanda's nose, leaving a white dot behind. She looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Stop it, y/n. You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, laughing softly.

“Okay, but honestly, you look adorable.”

*^~^*

"Your backgrounds look great!" Sarah said, walking by and admiring what you and Wanda had painted. "Ooh, Wanda! I love how you used a bit of Prussian blue in the corners. It adds depth."

Wanda beamed with pride as you smiled at her. You were having a wonderful time with her, and you didn't want it to end.

That is pretty,” you added. “Not to mention, my favorite color.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, I’ve always loved a strong blue,” washing your brush in the glass of water.

“Any particular reason?”

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “It’s tranquil and calm. Two things that I’ve tried to bring more of into my life over the years.”

“I know how you feel,” the redhead empathized, as she took another sip of wine. “The last year of my life was so chaotic, I vowed from now on to only surround myself with things and people who bring me a sense of serenity.”

You nodded in understanding, as Sarah grabbed the attention of the class again.

“Alright everyone, now we’re going to add the moon to our paintings. It’s really simple, everyone go ahead and pick up a spare paper plate,” holding one up. “Then trace around the edge like this to make a circle.”

You watched as Wanda traced her moon. Her tongue adorably poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration.

“There we go!”

She looked over at you, still sitting there with your paper plate in your one good hand looking down at your sling.

“Oh, I’m sorry y/n. Here, let me help you.”

“It’s okay, Wanda. I got it.”

You put down the plate, picked up your small brush, and dipped it in the off-white paint. In one fluid motion, you painted a perfect circle.

“Wow, that was smooth. How did you do that?”

“When you work in a sweet shop and you make a living scooping ice cream or frosting cupcakes all day, it bodes well if you can make a perfect circle,” you giggled.

“Hmm, I see,” lips pursed to stop herself from smiling. “I wonder what other hidden talents you’re keeping from me.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Wiggling your eyebrows and taking a sip of your wine.

After you added the silhouette of the pine trees to your paintings and the reflections and ripples in the water, you were on to the final touch of adding stars and a comet to the sky.

You dipped your fan brush in the white paint and flicked it toward the canvas to create a random star pattern. Picking up your liner brush, you added a comet to your sky. Everyone signed and dated their paintings. You added a small heart in the corner of your canvas to serve as a reminder of your first date with Wanda. You looked over at the redhead to see that she was adding a second comet into her sky.

“Two comets? Now that is a miracle.”

“One for Billy and one for Tommy. They’re my miracles.”

“They certainly are,” kissing her cheek as she finished her painting. “I hope I get to meet them someday.”

“I think you will,” smiling at you.

After class, everyone had a photo taken with their finished painting. You both held them up proudly as Sarah used Wanda’s phone to take the picture.

“Thank you so much, Sarah. We had a wonderful time,” you said, hugging the young woman.

“Yes, I’m going to tell all my friends about this place. It was wonderful,” Wanda added.

“It was my pleasure. You two come back anytime.”

*^~^*

As you left the shop and stepped into the cold night air, you quickly sent a text to Pepper to let her know that you were finished. She responded promptly, telling you that they had just paid the bill and would be there shortly.

"Tony and Pepper will be here in a few minutes. Shall we sit?" you asked, gesturing to a green metal bench a few yards away.

"Sure. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you still need to take it easy just because we’re out and about tonight,” leading you to the bench.

You sat down next to her and took in her profile, feeling a surge of affection. You had always felt that Wanda was different, not just because she was one of Earth’s mightiest heroes, but because she was sweet and genuine. You couldn’t wait to see where your journey together would take you. Wanda looked over at you, sensing that you were staring.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm just so happy to be here with you."

"Me too,” loose strands of her red hair blowing in the soft night wind.

Slowly, you leaned in and kissed her, feeling her warmth and love. Your stomach exploded with joy at Wanda's touch. Suddenly, the sound of a car horn broke you from your reverie as Tony pulled up beside you and rolled down the window.

"Excuse me, hi. I'm looking for a witch and a candy maker for a live-action Hansel and Gretel," Tony joked.

"You're an idiot," Wanda deadpanned, sliding into the backseat next to you.

"No funny business in the backseat, you two," Tony warned as he pulled away from the curb.

“How was your painting class?” Pepper asked

“It was wonderful,” Wanda said, holding up her painting.

"You painted that? Wanda, that is gorgeous!" Pepper exclaimed.

"She's a natural," you said, stroking her hand with your thumb.

"You flatter me.”

“It’s true. Your grandmother would be proud.”

Wanda blushed at your compliment as you leaned over and kissed her cheek.

*^~^*

Tony slowed to a stop in front of the redhead’s house. You stepped out of the car and walked the her to the front door, clutching her painting and the single red rose you gifted her. She unlocked the door and set the painting and rose down just inside the entryway.

"I had an amazing time tonight, y/n. It was so special, I couldn't ask for anything more," Wanda said, smiling at you.

"Me too, it was wonderful. I asked everyone for advice because I wanted our first date to be perfect. Then I remembered the story you told me about your grandmother’s painting, and I knew-" You were cut off by Wanda's lips on yours. The kiss was filled with passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.

As you pulled apart, her hand trailed down your cheek and she smiled, biting down on her lower lip. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, y/n."

"Okay. Goodnight, Wanda," you said, watching her walk inside and close the door behind her.

You turned around to see Tony and Pepper ducking down in their seats, pretending they weren't watching you from the car. "Subtle," you said, sliding into the backseat and shutting the car door.

“We didn’t say anything,” Tony said, holding his hands up in defense.

Once you arrived back at the compound, you immediately got into your pajamas and removed your walking boot. You were exhausted from the excitement of the night, but it was worth it. As you snuggled into your covers, your phone dinged. You opened the notification to see the picture Sarah took of you and Wanda holding up your paintings. Wanda had texted you: "I had a great time tonight. Every moment with you is a work of art."

You blushed profusely as you read her text before sending back your reply: "I have a beautiful muse.

Placing your phone on back on your nightstand, you laid back down. Adjusting your sling, you placed your good hand behind your head and stared up at the darkness of the ceiling, lost for words. You couldn't believe that Wanda Maximoff had left you speechless. It was the first of many times she would do so.

#guardian angel #wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #maria hill #yelena boleva #kate bishop #carol danvers #tony stark #pepper potts #mcu #the avengers #fluff #romance #first date

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