#miscfandomwrites

[miscfandomwrites]

hear me out.

Reader who's callsign is 'stalker'

Not because she's particularly quiet or follows people,

But because she knows everything about everyone.

Knows that soap and ghost are sleeping together.

Knows that Laswell has a wife.

Knows that the new medic is infatuated with Gaz.

Knows that Soap lost his notebook recently....and she's got it.

Knows that Price blames himself for soap almost dying on a recent op.

Knows that Ghost is hiding some pretty big secrets about his past.

Knows that Alejandro is Valeria's sister. (He doesn't even know that.)

Knows where Valeria is, and how to find her.

Knows Grave's agenda and how to crush it.

Knows that the kitchen restocks every tuesday at 2am, and that's why she always seems to get the good rations.

Knows that Kortac is starting to collaborate with Laswell on certain things.

Knows that Gaz isn't all human.

Hell, all of them aren't.

Especially her.

[blingblong55]

Funny feeling - König

Not a request but my own need for this:

141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----

A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this

141 part here

When you step inside, the shadow of worry descends upon your home. Your spirit dimmed, and ever since the truth emerged and you withered, your mind came crashing down like a bird in flight. This diagnosis shook not just you but of course him. You now drown in a sea of despair and self-blame. It's a heavy burden to bear, one that threatens tears to roll down and make you walk away from König. You blame yourself as flawed, broken, unworthy of the love he gives you and you so cherish.

But König, ever the steadfast husband, refuses to lose you this way. He mustn't let you slip away. Not ever, Schatz.

One day, as he finally watches you open up, he sits down and listens. He clings to every word you say. You pour your heart out and all of your fears and insecurities. "What if you leave? What if this is the beginning of the end of us? I don't want to lose you Bär," your voice shaky. With gentle understanding, he wiped away your tears, promising to stand by your side through every trial and triumph. "Oh, meine Schatz," he says as he holds you close.

Now, he sought to educate himself about the condition, attend appointments with you, read up on diets that can help you and is now determined to be your unwavering support.

It's not just words where he shows you his undying love. No, that is basic and for the woman that owns his heart, actions must be shown to prove that he means it. He cooks your favourite meals, filling the shared home with the aroma of comfort and care.

He takes your hands one day and leads you through the meadows, reminding you of the beauty that exists in the world outside the window. And in the quiet moments, he simply holds you, his presence so warm.

"Life is not always fair, I know that and I also know that you don't believe that I mean it, that this won't change and…you're lying to yourself. I do mean it and this might change our lives a little but not for the worse. I love you, sweet girl, and I'll be here like you were for me," he kisses your forehead and keeps holding you close.

In the quaint Austrian countryside, where the hills whispered tales of old, lived König and you. Life is nothing but beautiful, especially now that he is retired. With changes and lots of cuddles, you slowly become used to this new part of yourself.

A/N: I think this part was shit...sorry..

Tags:

@shadofireshinobi @kit-kats06 @joyfulmarvelofavengers @luvecarson @hilmiponken @asgardswinter @141swhore @miscfandomwrites @itstrabunnybubbles @rockcollector3000 @certifiedcodbabygirl @eicee @liyanahelena @theineandonlyidiot @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @viomast @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @undercover-smutlover @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @honestlyhiswife @ikohniik @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 7 Reblog Masterlist

}Welcome to Week 7 2024 or Week 215, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my February reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 6 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 8 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 7 2024:

Cool rider (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @happy74827 💚

Newbie (Logan Howlett X Reader) by @kgficz 💚

Valentine queen (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @miscfandomwrites❤️

Soaked (Stucky X Reader) by @biteofcherry❤️

Back to you (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @literaryavenger 💚💙

Burns: A Pete’s place (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lilacevans❤️🖤

Moral of the story part 5 (Steve Rogers X Reader, Logan Howlett X Reader) by @lemonnsss💙

I know where I belong part 9 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💚💙

How love works (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @buckys-wintersoldier💚

Skipping (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @angrythingstarlight❤️

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @xanthosxx💙

Bound a Pete’s place (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lilacevans❤️🖤

Stockings (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sarahwroteathing💚

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hansensgirl❤️🖤

How Steve flirts (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @fictionismyreality3💚

Get up, try again, walk it off (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @americas-ass-writing💙

Dancing in the kitchen (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @jen-with-a-pen 💚💙

Do you remember? (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lives-in-midgard 💙

Beautiful (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @nincompoopydoo 💚

Forbidden love (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stevierogersbabygirl❤️💙

The gemini (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @rogersideup 💚

Back and forth part 4.2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anika-ann 💚💙

I know where I belong part 10 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💚💙

You’re so timeless part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @dem-obscure-imagine 💚💙

Wonderstruck part 12 (Wanda Maximoff X Reader) by @messedupfan 💚

What no one sees part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stevierogersbabygirl❤️💙

Sweater weather (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @downbadf0rficppl❤️

You’re timeless part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @dem-obscure-imagine 💚💙

[miscfandomwrites]

Shifterverse! 141 x Rabbit Shifter! Reader who's going into heat while they're at a safe house.

(Price-Bear, Gaz-Leopard, Soap-Wolf, Ghost-Direwolf(? Creepy motherfucker))

"Did any of you put the white bottle of meds in your pack before we left?" I asked as I started digging though my kit, looking for my own bottle.

"Sorry lass, didn' get a chance ta" Soap replied, tucking away his own medkit as the others were digging through theirs.

Ghost forgot to pick it up from the medbay, Price was too busy with mission prep, and Gaz did have it in his bag but considering said bag currently laid in the ocean a couple thousand miles away....

"Godfuckingdammit!" I snapped as I went into the kitchen, opening cupboards trying to see if I could find something, anything that would help me.

"Mind telling us what the issue is, carrot?" Gaz asked from behind me, nearly causing me to yelp. Never got used to him being that quiet.

"Not particularly." I growled out as I stalked towards the back of the house, grabbing my bag and my jacket, heading towards the door. I managed to get halfway through it before a hang grabbed my pack, tugging me back inside, spinning me around and slamming me into the wall besides it.

"And just where the fuck do you think you're going?" It was Ghost, glaring down at me.

"...I... honestly don't know. I just need to leave."

I saw him pause, then he pulled down his balaclava just under his nose.

It took all of two seconds before he let go of me, staring back at me with an expression I couldn't place and honestly wasn't sure I wanted to.

"You're going into heat," this time it was Price, with concerned look on his face.

"Wha' the bloody hell is your plan when you get outta here, just run an' hope no one gets't ya? Fuckin idiot." Soap now was besides Ghost, arms crossed over his chest as he also glared at me.

"I was going to get someone and take care of this, I'm certainly not staying here with you guys-"

"You're not fucking going anywhere."

[miscfandomwrites]

Monarch

task force 141 x accused! traitor reader

word count: over 2k

tagging: @tyler-t0t (this is why I didn't go to bed until 4 lol)

trigger warnings: mentions of torture and being left for dead.

~

"No mercy for traitors." was what Ghost snarled at you as he helped Soap push you off the boat.

Arms tied behind your back, legs tied together with a large cinderblock weighing them down, a bag shoved over your head, you were plunged into whatever body of water they dragged you out on a boat to.

Thing is, you weren't a traitor.

Far from it, actually.

You caught wind of something that they didn't. You brought it up-mentioned how the new medic wasn't fully fledged and flighted; they didn't even know how to properly stitch up wounds.

You were ignored.

Just for being the youngest.

The only female on the team.

Just because they didn't like the idea of you to begin with.

Perfect plan, actually. Initiate a new member to the Task Force, add in a new apprentice medic, and slowly turn the tables.

When they got the information and found out that vital safe houses were destroyed and supply chains were disrupted, they were very quick to point fingers.

Not on the 'golden child' of a medic who could seem to do no wrong, no, on you.

Didn't matter that you'd barely been back for a few hours from a separate mission where you were solo. Of course.

Grabbing the wet bag from your face, you gasped in the salty air, realizing that they'd dropped you several miles offshore of some sort of coastal town. You could faintly see the lights, and thankfully, see the circling light of the lighthouse.

Better get to swimming.

Pulling off your tactical vest and starting to pull off any unessential parts of your outfit that was weighing you down, you started swimming back to shore.

Thankfully, they hadn't dropped you closer to the poles, otherwise you would've been dead from the shock and hypothermia within minutes. A small mercy.

Starting towards shore, you started to go over a checklist in your head of everything that went wrong. How you were set up. What evidence you could show, and at this point, there sure wasn't a hell of a lot.

Didn't help that the traitor was on the boat that dropped you off. You could still hear their voice, clear as day. And what they said shook you to your core, because it meant that they knew. They knew that you knew all along.

"Night night, butterfly."

One of the photos you had seen while you were trying to dig up anything you could find on this medic led you to another photo, of a member of the Russian KGB. They had a very distinctive butterfly tattoo on the left side of their lower torso. A monarch.

And what did you see when the medic was stitching you up horribly? His shirt lifted just enough to see that tattoo. You could've sworn he caught you staring, but you dismissed it too easily.

Bad mistake.

Grabbing fistfulls of wet sand, you dug your hands in, using the last of your strength to pull your body up onto the shore, away from the waves.

You barely remember what happened next, but you woke up in some sort of brick building. Lying on a bed in front of a fireplace that was almost stifling with heat, you groaned faintly and that caught the attention of a man sitting in a chair just out of your sight.

"You're alive!"

"....barely." Your voice hoarse from swallowing so much saltwater.

"Don't speak, sit up carefully and drink this."

Carefully sitting up, you realized you were naked underneath the blankets-where there seemed to be at least six piled on you-and an IV in your arm. Hooked up to an actual IV pole, with several bags of empty saline and blood. The man handed you a warm mug with a tea bag in it, and you took a tentative sniff.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would've already."

You nodded in agreement.

In the mug was a mixture of bitter tea with a good amount of honey, enough that it helped soften your throat for you to be able to speak.

"You drag me out? Put in IV? Clothes?" Quick, to the point. You barely had energy to stay conscious, let alone form words.

He nodded as he took the now empty mug from you and went about to refilling it.

"Dragged you off the beach. You were blue and shivering so I took your clothes off - They are hanging outside to dry." You took a second to look around the room again and noticed your boots by the fireplace, soles taken out and laces completely undone.

As if he had practice with doing this sort of thing.

"I used to be a medic in the wars, yet now I just tend to this here lighthouse, and rescue people who get washed up on shore, apparently."

Handing the now piping-hot mug back to you, he dragged the chair into your eyesight near the foot of the bed.

"Tell me what happened."

Considering how weak you knew you were and how exhausted you felt, you decided to tell him everything. To the task force, you were technically dead, so nothing really mattered at this point. Except killing the actual fucker who did this to you.

It took several days until you were able to be steady on your feet again and recover from the majority of your injuries. They tortured you for a bit before Price gave the order to toss you into the sea, and your ribs were still crying out from that.

The man said you were crying in your sleep. You didn't doubt it.

You helped him cook and clean, in turn he patched you up. He took out the old stitches from the fake medic and cussed them out the entire time he did so.

"Fucker knew what he was doing. Meant to make it get infected and scar...."

"Then blame everything on me while I was delirious and in the medbay. Plant my room."

"He did. That's why you're here, hun."

You nodded solemnly. You weren't ever given a chance to explain yourself; it was if they were happy to finally torture you.

Two weeks later you were saying your goodbyes to the man, who you now came to know as Cian. (Kee-an)

He told you to visit anytime, especially after what you were planning on doing.

"Go kick some ass."

You were in more common clothes, a black shirt, a pair of beat-up jeans and sneakers, with an old baseball cap of Cian's that he put on your head just before you left that looked like it'd seen better years decades ago.

You took off. Into the village, you got a ride to the nearest city with a embassy. And a friend.

Said friend, known only as 'Miriam' was very excited yet also extremely confused to see you.

You'd been reported dead two months ago. It was across all networks of agencies that dealt with taskforces or things that were supposed to remain quiet.

It was odd, as you had only been at the lighthouse for a little under a month, and then it hit. The torturing.

They kept you in a windowless room for over a fucking month.

Pulling nails, cutting into your skin, burning cigarettes and cigars into your stomach and arms. Whipping your back and then pouring seawater onto the fresh marks, making you take 'truth' serums that after you didn't tell them what they wanted, said were fake and didn't work. (They did, you were telling the truth...just not the one they wanted to hear. One you didn't know.)

Miriam promised she wouldn't tell anyone you were alive and gave you a new code name to use. Baba Yaga.

The boogeyman.

Fitting, as you were about to become the task force's worst nightmare.

It took months to track them town. They were good, clever. But you ran with them for two years, and you knew how they worked and operated. Knew where they'd likely be stationed at.

And you were right.

Port of Spain. They were in a small military camp with high fenced walls topped with barbwire, well-armed troops with dogs, timely reactions to threats. It was almost laughable how easily you were able to slip though the defenses.

Dressed as one of the guards, you joined a rotation where you would be patrolling the outside of the fence for four hours and then switch to inside for the next four, before being switched out. It was easy to make friends with the guards, chatting in the local dialect of Spanish that you'd perfected over the course of a week. Picking up on local slang and various shops and restaurants with history around town, you were easily added into the folds. Becoming chummy with a Lieutenant, even.

That led you into said Lieutenant's quarters that night, right next to the warehouse where you've caught sight of the traitor along with your old team. Price stepping out for a smoke break with Ghost. Gaz talking shit with Soap. It all felt...normal. But you knew that it wasn't.

You had been secretly gathering evidence again the traitor for months. Photos, videos, papers, texts, everything. It laid out exactly what happened, and how you were (supposedly) killed as the traitor, when all along, it was the fucking medic.

One night, you saw the medic laughing with them at a local bar, in your spot, right between Soap and Gaz. You had enough.

You took the file and set it on the main table in the room where they were gathering intel on their next target, noted by a half-burnt cigar and some timers for a bomb you knew Soap was building.

You also might've paid the waiter handsomely to slip something in everyone's drinks. Not enough to drug, but enough to become pliable. And you laid your trap.

They came stumbling into the warehouse later that night, while you sat in the rafters. Dressed in your old boots and now dyed-black kit, you pulled a black balaclava to cover your face from the nose down.

Watching. Waiting.

As the doors closed behind them, they didn't notice as they locked. Or that all of the doors to the warehouse were locked and barricaded. No way out. At least, not easily.

Price saw the folder first. Confused, he opened it and sobered up real quick. Spreading the pictures, printed messages and screenshots, and lastly a flash drive onto the table.

Ghost took it and hesitantly put it into the computer.

Big mistake.

The screen flickered once, then it emitted a high-pitched noise before it shattered, plunging them into darkness.

Shouting ensued, and you dropped the smoke cans.

Even with them grabbing their flashlights, it did nothing with the smoke flooding the building,

They called out to each other, and soon enough gathered with their backs to the table, handguns and flashlights drawn. They didn't realize they were missing someone vital, however.

After two minutes the smoke mostly cleared and the emergency generator kicked on, flooding the building with blinding light.

You anticipated that, they didn't. Fools.

You stood facing towards them as the smoke cleared, with an arm around the neck of the fake-medic. He was grabbing at your arm fitfully, yet he was already turning pale.

"Let him go!" rang Ghost's voice as he spotted you.

"Wait," Price started, squinting at you before turning pale himself.

"It's her-"

"It can't be-"

"She's supposed to be dead-"

You shouted, voice cutting through the chaos.

"ENOUGH!"

You pulled your handgun and aimed the muzzle at the traitor's head.

Everyone stared at you, eyes wide.

"You wouldn't kill him-" Soap started.

You nodded towards the table. "Check those papers again."

They took a second to look back down at the table and finally came to the same idea.

"You didn't betray us."

"Never did. But you all were all too happy to tie me up and started pulling my molars out."

Ghost winced. You had barely seen this man flinch, yet now he seemed to be physically regretting everything that was done to you.

"Put him down, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, right?" Price was trying to bargain. They needed the traitor for information. That they'll never get.

You laughed dryly as you clicked the safety off the gun.

"You already made it perfectly clear where you stand."

"Please, (Y/N)-"

You pulled the trigger.

"No mercy for traitors."

With that, the building plunged into darkness.

[miscfandomwrites]

141 x 141! reader who was sent out on a mission and got captured.

Reader who was drugged and given some weird, mysterious substances.

Reader who's team thought they were dead for months-

Until you come back.

First, it's all normal, all smiles and regular visits to the med bay and psych doctors, until you realize they're keeping things from you.

"...blood count is abnormally low, almost non-existant...."

Then things start happening.

Nightmares, unsurprisingly, considering the lengths in which you were tortured to get information, yet...

These aren't your memories.

You're not the one being tortured, no you are the one doing the opposite.

Suddenly you're starting to sleep less, and going to the gym more. Some reason meat sounds better than the salad bar. You know you need to eat a balanced diet or you'll feel like shit yet....

You're growing stronger.

Easily dead lifting Ghost's max on the barbells,

Outpacing Kyle on your runs when you were always behind,

Outdrinking Soap when you're at the bar, yet at the end of the night, you're not even tipsy,

The worst was when you managed to spot some snipers on a rooftop blocks away baresighted before Price could, in his binoculars.

That made things stir.

You started tracking how long you slept, finding it was less than half your normal time and was steadily decreasing.

The team, on the other hand, starting tracking other things.

Like how you were able to easily dodge attacks and manage to barely get touched in training, seeming as if you almost pass through them as if they're made of air.

You got grazed by a bullet on your bicep on the most recent mission, barely a week ago, yet last time Ghost checked, wounds don't scar over that soon...and they especially don't scar over black.

You notice that suddenly any new mark you've gotten is healing rather quickly. Bruises you got in the morning's training were faded and gone by supper. Scratches and cuts were absent within the matter of days.

Gaz swears he sees you almost float when you're fighting. Your feet barely touch the ground.

Soap notices your teeth and eyes next, especially because you tend to sit right across from him at tables.

"Teeth are sharp. Not 'jus the regular ones, no, all of 'em"

"Eyes are odd, look, they're dark, almost as if...there's nothing there."

Then a different teams captures the place where you were held hostage for a few months- you expected photos and films of your torture but not like this-

Photos of you strapped to a table, naked, with odd drawings all over you.

Photos of you screaming, covered in various marks, then more photos of you passed out, the marks faded to scars, faded to black.

"...they're timestamped....only hours apart...."

Suddenly you grow more skittish. As more and more photos and even videos are found, you find reasons to hide.

They find needles, and bottles upon bottles of unknown liquid written in a script not even the best translator Laswell can find recognizes.

All the bottles were empty, and when the medical staff ran the liquid they could salvage from them, all they got were error messages.

More photos, more strange symbols and this time there's photos of you cut open,

Seeing your lungs, and heart, intestines-hell, they even cut open a part of your skull from what it looks like.

You start to wonder if that's really you in those photos.

You don't remember any of this.

You remember being strapped to a chair, having your nails and hair pulled, cigarettes burned out on you, getting stabbed in the arms and sliced on your chest-but not this.

The team is starting to give you looks everytime you're around, ones that make your skin crawl. It seems whenever you go even slightly close to anyone they find an excuse to go away from you.

They all have this one distinct look in their eyes too,

One that says, you shouldn't be alive.

After days of barely seeing anyone, you decide to slice open the back of your arm. Because you were curious. All your other wounds healed easily, so this one should too, right?

After not seeing any blood for a couple of seconds you decide that the healing must have already kicked in,

Until you notice that the wound is dripping black.

You smear it across your fingers, realizing it was almost watery, yet was pitch dark. Like blood.

You wrap it up and continue on with your day, people dodging out of your way, and you intend to find Price to ask for medical leave, yet when you walk into the office you're greeted by....

A wall. The entire back wall of his office was not only bare as the bookcases and photos had moved, but photos were pinned on it. All featuring you.

Photos of the symbols, drawn more clearly, photos of your hands and feet, oddly enough, yet when you look closer you realize they're turning black.

Not necrotic, not dead, just pitch black.

There's photos of your back, in which the largest symbol is on, along with several dozen black dots along the sides of your spine. In one of the photos you see needles filled with the strange black substance that, oddly enough, looked like what came out of your arm earlier.

You turn and decide to call it a night, despite the fact you haven't slept in weeks, you just lie there.

Only to be met with the team. They're all standing outside the door to your room, and after almost a month of barely catching glimpses of them, you're rightfully pissed that they're waiting for you outside of your bedroom.

You can't even get two words in until Price overruled you, asking to see the inside of your room.

Knowing these men, you decided it would just be easier if you gave them what they wanted.

What you didn't expect was that there was this black...mold? Growing everywhere. On your couch, walls, the ceiling, it was the worst on your bed, where you 'slept' every night.

Okay, so maybe you haven't been to your room in a couple days, but that shouldn't have caused this...right?

[miscfandomwrites]

Hear me out: coach! Miguel x single parent reader.

Coach! Miguel! Who has a new kid joining up for his soccer team, and while he's watching the kid play he realizes that this kid has potential- a lot of it.

Coach! Miguel who starts wanting to do more practice outside of regular play hours so he can help strengthen and teach this new kid

Coach! Miguel who ends up meeting you when you go to pick your son up from practice only to be met by the walking wet dream of

Coach! Miguel who stops in his tracks upon seeing you, not because you're hot, well you are hot... really hot....but because he can tell just why this kid has potential.

Coach! Miguel who gets invited over to dinner at your place when a soccer match runs particularly late, and after your son is sent to bed you and him stay up talking on the couch

Coach! Miguel who realizes after a couple months that your son is doing amazing and he's definitely looking forward to helping him grow- he's growing more invested into you.

Coach! Miguel who lets you join the teams out-of-state match (their first one!) because he needed another chaperone... no other reason

Coach! Miguel who 'accidently' books only one room for the two of you... with one bed. As you're struggling trying to find accommodation for you-a couch, a spare bed, anything, Miguel turns to you with a grin and says

"Looks like you'll be sleeping with me then, princesa"

[miscfandomwrites]

Royal advisors! 141 x Newly Queened! Reader

You were crowed early. Really early. Most Kings and Queens are in their late thirties and forties when they are crowned, but you unfortunately took the throne at 27 years old. Your mother died while you were just a babe, giving birth to you, and your father never seemed to truly get over it, always blaming you for it and it left you with no real connection to him.

So when he suddenly is killed while he is out traveling to another Kingdom, you're barely given three days to mourn before his royal advisor comes to you, voice soft as he spoke, "My Lady...I do know this is a very difficult time however we need to start talking about your coronation."

Within the week you're being coronated- after all, you can't leave a kingdom without a ruler. By the end of that day you're told you have several diplomatic meetings coming up, and you have no idea what they are or how to act in them. This leads you to seek out several people-

Your father's royal advisor, Sir Kyle Garrick, who kept in touch with the couriers and the various happening throught not only the kingdom but the surrounding ones, keeping the King updated with the comings and goings of the royals and anything interesting going on in the letters or kingdom.

Sir Jonathan Price, your father's personal guard who unfortunately was with him the night your father passed-but he was one of the best soldiers in the kingdom, in the end of it, you had no choice but to seek him out. He was now the Head of the Royal Guard, training soldiers and going over battle plans and old war history, trying to gain and edge he wasn't sure he had.

Sir John MacTavish, who was one of the handful that had gone into the battle of Two Holds and had returned-holding up the letters in which the other kingdoms were found implicit in illegal human trafficking. Those letters were only rumored to exist, so when they were given to you father he had right idea to crown him as Knight MacTavish, who remained on his personal guard-and advisors-until his death. Unlike Sir Johnathan however, he had previously taken an arrow to the ear before the trip so he did not attend the slaughter of the king.

You did not know why it was called the 'slaughter of the king' and you were unsure if you should find out.

And the last one- Sir Simon Riley but known mainly by his war name of Ghost. You've only seen him around the castle less than a handful of times, and all of those were when he was coming back to your father carrying someone's head. In the case of the the battle of Two Holds-he came back with the warring kings head and his crown.

You shivered. You hated the sight of blood, you didn't know why, but on some deep, primal level it made your skin crawl and breath shorten. Your handmaiden said it was likely just a reflex of your body but you knew better. Knew there had to be a reason.

You summoned them all together, meeting with Sir Kyle to create your own meeting in one of the the many meeting rooms with large tables in the castle.

Dressed in just a pair of simple trousers and a tunic, sturdy boots that you haven't broken in yet, you opened the doors with your faithful handmaiden, Morgana, at your side.

All but Sir Simon bowed as you entered, you didn't bother taking offense to it, he didn't know you so he had no reason to respect you and there were much, much more important things at hand.

"It is no suprise I've gathered you all here today-and that is because I cannot rule this kingdom alone. Father did not allow me to know the history behind the sieges or battles as far as the wars go, he did not allow me to learn about are trade access-Hell, he did his damn best to make sure I would not be a worthy heir. However....I am his only heir. I come to ask for knowlege, and for all of you to be granted as my personal advisors so you may help me run this kingdom in the best possible way...and to win the oncoming battles and wars."

Sir Johnathan blinked. He'd seen you around the castle, sure, but thought you were a reclusive child, and now realized the king-former king had purposely hidden you away so you were not taught or raised like an proper heir to the throne.

He cleared his throught. "My Queen....I do belive I speak for all the men in this room when I say we'd be honored." He had purposely sought out the others the day after your coronation due to the fact he had a hunch this would be someone you might do. You were a smart women, which meant you'd make a smart queen.

The others nodded as you each looked at them, seeking signs of any issues.

Finding none you nodded. "I have next to no knowlege of well, anything related to being a a Queen, so please forgive me if I mess something up or do no behave in a 'Queenly' way. I know there is unrest within the kingdom and within these very walls- let us take care of that first, then we will start on the other Kingdoms." With that, you turned and walked back out, pausing just outside with Morgana.

"They didn't teach her anything?!"

"Her father still-used to-blame her for her mother's death. He has never gotten over it so thus he does not trust or want to be be near her. The only reason she wasn't sent away was because I told him it would put his crown at risk."

"Bloody fool. Even kings fall."

[miscfandomwrites]

Konig is definitely anxious in some way. Someone doesn't wear a mask constantly just to look cool or scary (that's definitely part of it), and I do believe the headcannons about him have some severe facial scarring, especially the ones across the face and messing with his mouth a bit.

Does lead me to think that he definitely does not want to go out into public, so when you somehow manage to drag him out he has a medical mask on and his hood up, walking right behind you the entire time as you're wondering why the mall in suddenly less crowded than earlier.

Don't get me wrong though, he's happy when you're in his sight and reaching distance, yet the second he can't find you in the mall he panics.

You're his person, his safe place, and he's got more than enough enemies that would happily take advantage of you just to hobble him in the field.

Besides anxiety, he's got amazing self-control. He's got anger issues, he's cocky, his work personality is much different than his home because he needs to build the walls back up so he doesn't get hurt, so you don't get hurt.

So when you're kidnapped right out from under his nose in the mall by 141 trying to see if you know anything, he's well past anxiety and self-discipline.

He's a Colonel for a reason, after all. He'll lead armies into hell if it means getting you back in his arms.

[miscfandomwrites]

Kind a big fan of the 141 advisors from this post helping newly queened! Reader learn various skills-

Namely Price, Mactavish, and Riley teaching her fighting skills but it turns into:

"You're going easy on me!"

"No, I'm not, you're just getting better-"

"You haven't even touched me! We are learning hand combat! We are supposed to be touching and trying to hurt each other!"

"My Queen I don't know if-"

"How am I ever supposed to learn to defend myself if you take it easy on me! The enemies will touch me and not only will they try to hurt me they will try to kill me. I am not some delicate thing that will be hurt by you punching me- hit me already! "

"Mactavish, my turn."

[miscfandomwrites]

Laswell definitely is some type of gay. Can't be anything other than that. Lesbian, bisexual, pansexual- she likes women. And sure, physical attractiveness is part of it, something about being with men and being about to not have to deal with yard work or killing the random spider that crept into the kitchen while she was cooking is great,

But women.

Something in her just clicks. It feels as if a puzzle piece she didn't know was missing was finally put into place. Being able to be both soft around them and have her domineering side makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

Coming back home to a girlfriend waiting oh so patiently for her with their cats in tow as she opens the front door, greeted by the smell of her girl's perfume, the candle burning on the coffee table, food cooking away on the stove and something inside her heals just a bit.

Being able to do her lover's hair since she always seems to make the perfect buns and can style bangs easily, cooking in the kitchen and laughing when she accidently gets covered in flour, stealing kisses in between bites of freshly made cookies, having wine nights while they binge watch some early 2000's TV series, their feet on her lap as she makes an occasional comment about the show. Smiling softly at her when she thinks they don't notice (they do) and imaging their future together.

Crawling into bed finally, tugging the covers over her soon-to-be wife's shoulders as she softly smiles at her, admiring the person that she's fallen hopelessly and honestly in love with. Knowing that the ring tucked into her work bag will finally see the sun the next day when she asks her to be her person, forever.

[miscfandomwrites]

141 spice tolerance headcannons:

Price can tolerate some spice and does like a bit of a kick, but his tolerance is medium to low. He suffers through hot wings and will eat jalapeño poppers but cannot eat more than a few bites of Gaz's chili or he will be taking the milk jug hostage when he goes to the bathroom. He is slowly building up his spice tolerance so he can actually eat the meals that Soap cooks, if he's lucky he might be able to get away with quickly eating it and then suffering a bit but lately he's been able to sit down and enjoy the meal with Gaz and Soap, while Ghost has his balaclava on and is on the complete other side of the table.

Ghost has a medium to low tolerance. Like...c'mon he's a British white guy. He can't even handle most hot sauces, and just the smell of Gaz's chili will make his eyes water. Occasionally he tries one of Prices's wings but can't tolerate more than like three bites before he calls it quits. Can barely be in the kitchen while Soap is cooking lest his eyes start watering and his asthma kicks up. Soap managed to find a really mild hot sauce for him that he can tolerate and he secretly really likes it, yet tells Soap it's still too much for him

Gaz grew up in a huge family and you just know this man can cook. Maybe like three or four things, but he can cook! And his main specialty is his chili, which was created during a dare with Soap to make the hottest chili possible. Soap's chili was decent, but Gaz got his hands on some ghost peppers and some dried California reaper peppers.... so his chili is to be feared. That said, he has a surprisingly high spice tolerance, but it does come with the drawback of most food not being 'good' unless it's spicy in some way.

Soap also has a decently high spice tolerance, especially for a Scottish man, which he tells is inherited from his father. "Aye, he could'a eaten Gaz's chili and called it piss-poor!" And while he can cook decently (he makes the best stews and steaks you'll ever have, just don't tell him that) he tends to make most food too spicy for anyone but him and Gaz, maybe Price can suffer through it but Ghost certainly can't even be in the kitchen while he's making it.

[miscfandomwrites]

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Scientist! Reader Fluff

Warnings: None

Words: 876

Requested by:

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“When are you coming home?” my girlfriend’s worried tone makes me wince as I change into my secondary clothes.

“I’m almost done with this, Nat. I’m so close to being done and then-”

She cut you off: “It doesn’t matter, (Y/N), you’ve been working on this for the past two days straight. I haven’t seen you since tuesday. I miss you.”  

I sighed as I finished buttoning my pants up. “I don’t know Nat. I don’t want to go home unless I’ve made a breakthrough. I’m so close.” I told her as I picked up the phone, shoving my other clothes into my duffle bag.

“Fine, I’ll come to you.” She replied with a huff, and then hung up. 

She’ll come to me?

~~

“Hi, I’m here to pick up my exhausted and almost burnt out girlfriend, (F/N), (L/N)?” Natasha said to the clerk.

“Thirteenth floor, beware though, I’ve heard she’s on her third pot of coffee and hasn’t slept in two days.” The man replied, waving her through to the elevators. Natasha nodded at the man and headed up to your floor.

~~

“Shit, not another failure…” I muttered as I peered into the microscope, awaiting for the reaction between the cells. Faint lofi music was playing from one of the computers, amidst the sound of another pot of coffee brewing.

“(Y/N)?” Natasha’s voice had me jerking my head away from the scope, nearly making me hit my head on the shelf above me.

I cleared my throat and winced. “Hey, Nat..” I spoke softly. She looked around at the mess of papers, empty coffee cups, mostly papers, the occasional energy drink, and the few notebooks I had around and open.

“C’mon, Любить, let’s go home. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?’ She asked as she started gathering my scattered belongings.

I scratched the back of my head as I took off my lab coat. “I honestly don’t remember.” I told her.

She paused and looked at me. “The last time I remember seeing you eat was when we had dinner on tuesday. What sounds good to you?” She questioned with a worried tone.

“I was thinking-”

“No takeout. Something we can make at home that’s semi-healthy." She cut me off.

I chucked, then started taking down my hair. Wow, when was the last time I washed my hair? 

“Chicken sounds good.” I replied, finger-combing through my hair.

She nodded and shouldered my bag, before holding her hand out for me. I took it, and we headed towards the elevators.

“FIREROX, System save and shutdown.” I called over my shoulders, letting the A.I. take the rest of the task off my shoulders.

“Do you want me to text Natasha that you are on your way home, miss?” it asked me.

I smiled at the redhead holding me hand.

“There’s no need. Thank you and good night.” I told it as the elevator doors closed. 

Once inside, she pulled me into a hug. “Yeah, yeah, I know you smell. I don’t care. I missed you.” She whispered as she held me close.

“I could tell, love.” I replied, hugging her closer to me and breathing in her scent.

Once out of the building, I took a second to breath in the fresh air and roll my shoulders. 

“C’mon, nerd. Let’s go home.” 

~~

Finally back at our house, Nat’s first instructions were to take a shower then do whatever else. Well, she was going to cook and then we’d eat after that, then whatever else.

However, once I got under the warm water I started to realize how exhausted I really was. We’re not made to run on constant caffeine and no sleep for a few days. I did my best to quickly scrub down and get out, drying off as quickly as the cloud of exhaustion would let me. Wrapped in a towel, I headed into our room and pulled on some underwear and a pair of my shorts, and then one of Nat’s hoodies. Drying my hair and dropping the clothes into the room’s laundry basket, I headed out to the kitchen.

“Hey, Любить.” Nat said as I padded into the kitchen. I hummed and sat at one of the barstools, making grabby hands at her. She laughed and tossed the kitchen towel on her shoulder before coming around and holding me. She kissed my cheek before fully holding me, arms wrapped around my torso and her face pressed into my neck. Her hair was tied into a ponytail and wearing one of my black t-shirts and a pair of jeans, she was beautiful. 

After a few minutes she wiggled out of my grip to go finish dinner. Once that was done, and we finished eating, she dragged me over to the couch and yanked me on top of her. 

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: Little Drabble I've been working on that I figured was good enough to post. And yes, Konig will be in here because I say so and also because I have a huge little crush on him. Easiest way to describe sunshine is that while she doesn't do active field work (unless absolutely necessary) she is still very scary and cute at the same time.

Pairing: Poly! Shifter! Tf141 + Konig x Rabbit Shifter! F Reader

Warnings: Language, dude being a creep, r being a little creepy.

Words: 507

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

Located: Under MW2 -> Sunshine Series

~

“Oh really? That’d be really cool! I bet Gaz would love to come too! He’s been wanting to see that movie for ages!” I told Gavin as he slowly stalked towards me, something akin to a dark smile on his face. 

I held my hand to the side carefully and made my palm flat, the sign for stop as I could hear the boys slowly getting up and walking towards me. Perks of being a rabbit, I guess. 

I smiled at him as I turned my body a bit and opened one of the kitchen drawers, sliding out the chef knife I loved so dearly. 

One of the many things I learned from culinary school: Keep your knives sharp, and your enemies unaware. 

I was forced against the counter as he stood in front of me, licking his lips as if he was a wolf eyeing a delicious meal. 

“Oh bunny, I don’t think you understand, I’m telling you that I want to-”

Before he could finish the sentence, I held up the knife to his neck, starting to force him backwards.

I put on my cheerful voice and the bright face that I used when typically dealing with animals or small children, and smiled at him.

“Oh, I understand completely! Y’know, right this is your windpipe, “ I said as I lightly traced the knife down and up his throat, using small enough pressure to leave slices but not enough to make him react more “And here is your esophagus, Oh! And right beside them are your main arteries that lead to your brain! If they were to get a small slice in them, You could die within two minutes! Isn’t that pretty neat?” I grinned at him, successfully backing him out of the kitchen as I dug the knife a little harder into his neck. 

“Y-You fucking bitch-” he stammered, I tsked and drug the knife across to the other artery, and did the same to it. 

“You really should know better than to mess with a girl in her own kitchen.” I told him. 

“Let alone in front of her pack.” a deep, german-accented voice spoke from behind me, and without having to look I knew it was Konig. 

At that point, I saw Gavin cower, his ears flattening against his head as he quite literally turned tail and ran. 

“Great, now I have to wash the blood off of this.” I sighed, heading towards the sink. 

“That was fucking creepy, lass.” Soap spoke up, arms crossed his chest as he tried to calm himself down from fully shifting. 

I shrugged. “Hey, he asked for it. There’s a reason I’m called Sunshine after all!” I told him with a smile. 

As soon as the adrenaline wore off my temper dropped, still with a smile on my face I carefully hand washed and dried off the knife before sliding it back into its drawer. 

Straightening out my apron, I turned back to the boys with my hands clasped in front of me. 

“Now, who wants dinner?”

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This was supposed to say "Bad day" but whoops. I'm tired. anywho, this seriesis inspired by some other authors with their own 'Sunshine series' yet my main take was wanting a main character who is a housewife ish and is fed up with their shit. They're all scared of this rabbit shifter because she's put up with them for this long. There's a whole backstory and lore and such if you want me to get into it, but for now here's 'Bay day' lol

Pairing: (Shifterverse) 141 + Keegan + Konig x Rabbit Shifter! Reader

Warnings: Lots of language, mentions of bodily harm.

Words: 1.3k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

Nothing seemed to be going right. 

First, it was a downpour all day, meaning I couldn’t even drive to the farmer’s market since they had announced that they were going to be closed for the weekend since the weather was so severe. 

It also meant that I had to rush outside to the garden in my new, clean, white sundress, getting mud all over it as I hustled the chickens and ducks back into the coop, and ran around gathering all the tomatoes I could find before they split from the excess rain, some of them already splitting as I gathered them into my dress, staining it red and coating it with tomato seeds.

They boys were all on base today, yet weren’t coming home anytime soon both due to the weather and due to the paperwork they were getting held up with from their last couple missions. 

And today was a Sunday, meant to be a relaxing, self-care, pampering day for me, yet here I am, running around like I lost my head. 

I had just started to dry my hair with a kitchen towel before I remembered that there were sheets hanging outside on the line to dry - one of the perks of living with a team I guess, is that even with an industrial washer and dryer, it still didn’t cut the amount of laundry this house went through during the week. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I yelled as I ran back outside, skipping putting on the rainboots and just decided to go barefoot, easily hopping the small gate that kept the animals on the fenced side of the yard. My ears twitched as the rain hit them, and I flattened them against my head as I muttered curses to myself as I tore the sheets off the drying rack and ran back inside, about to toss them into the dryer before I realized my dress had covered them in mud. 

I opened the washer, expecting it to be empty, yet was greeted with the sight and smell of Soap’s mildew-y clothes that have definitely been sitting in the washer for the last two days, unswitched. 

“Motherfucker.”  I hissed as I dropped the sheets on the floor and grabbed a laundry pod and some scent beads, throwing them into the washer and starting his clothes on a hot, heavy washer since half of it was his workout gear. 

I shook my head as I felt some of the water starting to reach my inner ears, causing them to twitch and me to wince and I quickly grabbed a spare cloth and quickly cleaned them out, hating the feeling of water in them. 

I could faintly hear my phone buzzing from upstairs, and I jogged up there only to be greeting with Price’s contact, wanting a voice call.

I answered as I opened the dishwasher, realizing I forgot to start it before I went to bed last night, the pod door still closed tight. 

“Hey love, looks like we might be running even later tonight, there’s a new recruit….” He started as I held the phone between my shoulder and head and tried to start the dishwasher again. 

“What time should I have dinner on the table then?” I interrupted him as he was telling me about how they were going to be training not just one but several new recruits, causing them to be home around eight pm at the earliest. 

“Oh, uh, probably around nine or ten then?” He questioned. 

I just shut my eyes and sighed for a moment, before nodding. 

“I’ll get some stew in the crockpot then, today’s not going too great so I doubt I’ll be up that late.” 

“That’s alright dove, we can just pick up food on the way over.” I heard Ghost’s voice, causing me to pause for a moment. 

“Am I on speaker?” I asked softly. 

“Yeah, we jus’ got out of a meetin’ “ Soap replied. Sounds like everyone was there. 

“I’m implementing a new rule: Set a fucking timer on your phones for your laundry. Next batch that grows mildew in the washer will go into the burnpit.” 

A hushed silence answered me, before I heard a smack! and Soap yelling out. 

That was definitely Gaz. He’s the only one who actually takes care of his laundry on time. 

The washer beeping from downstairs gathered my attention, and I said my round of ‘be safe’ and ‘don’t kill the newbies’ before I hung up and tossed my phone on the couch, only for it to slide off and land on the wooden floor, landing screen-first. 

“Oh that definitely fucking broke.” I sighed, padding over to it and picking it up, wincing as I saw shards of glass left behind on the ground. 

A slew of expletives left me that would’ve left Soap blushing, and I set it face-up on the coffee table and headed downstairs, switching over laundry and starting half of the sheets in the washer before heading back upstairs, and cleaned up the mess my phone made. 

It was around three at this point, so I gathered some thawed meat out of the fridge and some vegetables and went to work putting together and stew for the boys that could be left cooking for the next several hours. Halfway through chopping up the carrots, the dryer buzzed, scaring me enough that I accidentally sliced into my finger instead, causing me to yelp and immediately hold it to myself, using my dress as a pressure dressing as I rushing into the bathroom and yanked out the medkit from under the sink. Only to find it fucking empty. 

I hissed at finding this, heading back into the hallway and pulling open the doors and finding the spare medkit things, disinfecting and wrapping up my fingers. (Turns out I nicked two, not just one.) 

I didn’t bother putting away the items since I knew I needed to refill the medkit anyways, leaving the bloody wrappers and roll of gauze on top of the box.

I headed downstairs, switching laundry again, and set up the drying lines we had in the laundry room for the sheets, carefully setting them up, not noticing spots of blood getting on the edges from my fingers. 

After switching laundry I headed back upstairs, my phone buzzing with an incoming call from Soap, which I didn’t even bother touching as I was not about to get shards of glass into my fingers. 

I finished making dinner, setting it up in the crockpot on medium heat, and didn’t bother cleaning up the kitchen as I collapsed on the couch, about ready to cry my eyes out. 

Instead, I fell asleep, my body exhausted, and about jumped out of my skin when I heard the door open and several voices. 

About thirty minutes had passed, leaving me groggy as shit, blinking sleep out of my eyes as they shuffled inside, dropping off bags of something on the counters as Price made his way to me. 

“I know we’re a little early but-holy fuck, what happened?” He started, causing everyone to immediately stop and head my way, causing me to be crowded by everyone. I could barely keep the tears out of my eyes, explaining that today was just horrible. 

“C’mon, let’s get you out of that dress and into something warm, bun.” Gaz spoke softly to me and Price starting giving instructions to the rest of the boys: Konig and his crew were to take care of the animals and check the perimeter, Ghost was to help with laundry, Soap was on dish duty, Price was going to finish up with putting away the groceries which I later learned were from them going to the farmer’s market ass-early in the morning before the sky opened up to make sure I got what I needed for the week. Keegan took it upon himself to restock the medkit, and helped rebandage my hand as I sat on my bed, Gaz sitting behind me, softly brushing my tangled mess of hair. 

This. This is what a pack was like.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This is from about two years ago, from my old account. I know this was requested by someone yet I don't have anything saved for a name besides 'anon' so. There's not much to this but figured I'd post it anyways.

Pairing: Avengers x Widow! Reader

Warnings: Flashbacks, food based and major trust issues, reader self-isolates from everyone, everyone is kinda mean, natasha and yelena nearly kill half the avengers, language, angst, fluff(ish) ending

Words: 1.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

Summary: Reader escaped the red room with more than just physical scars. At Fury’s request she joined the Avengers for ‘Rehabilitation’ back into society, which led to an awful prank played on her that caused her to lose all trust with them. She hasn’t met Natasha or Yelena yet as they’ve been away on a deep undercover mission..but once they return and learn what has been going on with the reader and the team, and what it’s making the reader relive through, all hell breaks loose.

~~ “It’s a cinnamon poptart, not the blueberry one, I swear by it.” Thor told me as I held the shiny silver package in my hands, debating on whether or not to open it. I was reminded back to last week, when Clint tried the same thing on me. I glanced back up at the god-and he was giving me the puppy dog eyes.

There was a history of the avengers giving me the wrong food. It started out as a joke that made me physically sick enough to the point where I couldn’t eat for almost a week because of it and turned into a joke for them. Well, it wasn’t a joke for me.

I sighed, glancing at the generic wrapper which didn’t tell me shit about what flavour it was. Looked back at Thor and his puppy dog eyes and decided that maybe it was worth a try.

Of course, when I tear open the package it’s the blueberry one. I stared at it for a good minute or so as Sam and Bucky started losing it at my deadpan facial expression, and I just dropped the poptart on the table and turned on my heel and walked away, trying not to remember what happened and blocking out my brain from trying to kill me again.

Steady walking turned into a fast-paced stride, which turned into a jog, then into a full on sprint. I had no idea where the hell I was going, I was too far into my head to tell beyond me descending the back staircase down several flights of stairs. I kept going down,

Down,

Down,

Until I hit a wall, and realized I was at the very bottom of the tower. I didn’t even know that there even was a bottom to the tower until now…and knowing already that it had almost two dozen floors, and the kitchen was almost at the direct top…

I must’ve ran down at least ten or maybe even fifteen flights…

My head was still spinning as I leaned against the wall, the sweat from my body making my clothes stick to me and my legs started to shake slightly. Being a supersoldier had its benefits when it came to fights and physical activity, but even then it had its limits.

My breathing came hard and fast, and I closed my eyes tightly as I turned around, pressing my back against the cold, solidness of the concrete wall and slid down until I could rest my arms on my knees and sucked in one breath, held it for seven seconds, then slowly breathed out through my mouth for ten. I kept repeating the pattern, six, seven, ten, until everything stopped spinning and I felt less light headed.

~

I don’t know how long I was down there, and only took my head off my arms to answer my phone’s consistent buzzing, alerting me to a call. I slid it from my pocking, wincing at the slight protest of my muscles and the phone screen that was still slightly slick from my sweat. I wiped it off on my pant leg and answered it, not bothering to check the contact info.

“Agent (L/N), please do inform me why you are not present at the meeting right now.” a deep voice which I recognized as Fury’s sounded through the speaker. Shit. Meeting. That must mean…

It was six in the evening-I’d left the kitchen around two-

I have been down here for four hours.

I quickly scrambled up, heading to the elevators and pushed the up button as I told Fury I’d be there in less then ten minutes and ended the call. The elevator shot up to my floor as I sniffed my shirt, smelling the sweat and slight mustyness of the basement on it. My body smelled physically fine, but my clothes reeked. Still need deodorant however.

Once on my floor I quickly threw off my clothes as I rushed into my room, grabbing some of the first clothes I saw and changing into them then heading to the bathroom to look semi-presentable. While sure, it probably wasn’t necessary for me to ‘freshen up’ I didn’t want any comments about my appearance or smell, better yet I didn’t want any mention of me and didn’t know why Fury was bothering me to join the avengers since I wasn’t a ‘main’ member.

I finished getting presentable and glanced at what I was wearing, a pair of grey faded jeans that I tucked a black tshirt into and had pulled on my olive green converse, and right before I left my bedroom I grabbed my green button up jacket and slid it on, hoping it’d pair better with the shoes. Thankfully I left my bow gloves on the small bookcase next to the elevator and decided to get those on a whim as I rushed into the elevator and told FRIDAY to take me to the meeting floor.

I pulled my hair up into a slightly messy bun and called it good, soothing any wrinkles and tucking in my shirt more and just fidgeting with my clothes in general.

The avengers, or at least the ones who I’ve seen since I started living in the tower-Thor, Sam, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Peter, and a few others whose names I didn’t bother to remember, I did not trust at all. And that was putting it lightly. Ever since the incident when I first started living here-which was not my choice mind you, Fury told me to live here so here I am-I tried my best in avoiding them at all costs. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck one on one with any one of them…especially the males.

Natasha and her sister, Yelena, have been on a almost eight month mission and I haven’t met them yet, but there was one thing the three of us had in common: The red room.

Memories I’d rather not remember were thankfully interrupted by FRIDAY chiming at me and opening the door of the elevator, and I walked out into the conference / meeting room.

~

“Look what the cat dragged in, finally.” Tony stated as I walked to the meeting table, taking a seat at the end of it. I glanced around noticing two new faces-females, and from the red and yellow hair I guess Natasha and Yelena.

“Took you long enough.” Steve glared at me as I tried to remain indifferent.

I did notice both Yelena and Natasha stiffen when they saw me, and even more so when they saw my slight reaction to their comments. I didn’t bother introducing myself, figuring they probably damn remember who I was.

Of course, I had a different nickname in the room, but those days were long gone.

Fury nodded at me and explained what the two had dug up from their reconnaissance mission, explaining how there was a series of various drug cartels that had access to a substance that not only was highly illegal, but magical in nature.

I turned out during the last half of it, upon hearing Sam and Bucky having their heads together and snickering, occasionally glancing my way. At some point I heard whispers of what would happen if they caught me alone, and at that point I was done-black creeped on the edge of my vision as I rolled the chair back and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten in awhile. Suddenly a loud slam echoed through the room, caused by Natasha slamming her hand on the table, standing up.

“Will you two shut the fuck up before I decide to kill you?”

I stared in shock as she glared at Sam and Bucky, Yelena also standing with her, glaring and had a knife palmed in her hand already.

“You have no fucking idea what it was like for her, for us going through that room and all you’ve been doing is making her fucking miserable. I’ve been getting reports on what you two’ She turned and glanced around the entire team at this ‘on what everyone has been doing to her. You’re lucky I was too deep into the mission or I would’ve come here sooner.” She turned to Fury and he nodded at her, and then spoke up.

“Natasha and Yelena will be taking care of the black listed missions from now on, and they will be taking care of miss (L/N) as well. Upon their wishes, they are no longer a part of this team.”

Both the girls turned to me, Yelena sliding her knife away and Natasha holding out a hand to me.

“Come on, Серебряная Лиса, we’ve got you.”

We’ve got you.

(Silver fox)