#and doesn't want to have another agent's blood on his hands

[etfrin]

— ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴꜱ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ? | ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ

✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | subby to soft dom! Spencer, fem! Reader, insecure Reader in the beginning, Spencer gets punched once, oral sex (male receiving), blood kink if you squint, praise kink if you squint, no use of y/n, uses of nicknames such as baby, sweetheart etc, fingering (female receiving), squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation if you squint | lmk if I forgot something!

✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀ��: A blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid ends in a surprising manner, including a spilt lip and a thief

✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.6k

✧— ᴀ/ɴ: probably one of my most favourite work I ever wrote, please give it love <33

「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」

You were on a blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had set you both up, and you had agreed to the date because there was no harm in it. The man himself was punctual meanwhile you were unfortunately ten minutes late. In your defense, you had to keep redoing your eyeliner.

You won't admit it to him when he asks why you were late. Instead, you said dismissively, “Oh, it's the traffic.” The stare he gave you assured you of the fact that he knew you were lying.

“The rush hour shouldn't begin in this area for another hour. Even then if you were truly stuck in traffic, you would have come even later,” he said as a matter of fact.

You raised your eyebrows in shock, your lips parting as you scoff. “Ah.. yes.. well..” You decided to let him know the truth, “It was actually because my eyeliner kept getting messed up and I had to redo it. I am sorry.”

“No need to apologize. The average woman spends about 22 and a half minutes getting ready when they go out,” he said, his fingers tapping on the table.

“Oh,” you said, taking in the fact, you suppress the urge to Google it to see if he's correct. “That's cool,” you smile softly at him.

The rest of the date goes averagely well. Spencer told you as much as he could about his work and you did the same. You learned about the man's IQ, and about the fact he was a genius. The longer the date goes on, you seem to realize you're not for someone who has achieved so many things at such a young age.

Your whole life was a mess. And Spencer noticed that you were hesitant to talk about yourself after finding out more about him. The date ended on a polite note. Despite the fact, you decided not to call him back, you liked him. He was sweet, a bit dorky but you liked hearing his random rants about things you never even thought about before.

The man insisted on walking you home and you agreed. It was a thirty-minute walk. As you both started walking, it was hard to keep pace with him. He had slowed down for you, and your hand kept brushing with his. But neither of you made the next move of simply holding hands.

You wanted to though.

Both of you continue walking in silence. You notice the full moon in the sky and grin. “The moon is so pretty,” you whispered.

“Yeah, very pretty,” Spencer mumbled back while looking at you.

You looked at him, and asked, “Wanna hold hands as well? It's kinda chilly.”

“I don't see how holding hands would help with the fact you're feeling cold. Would you like my jacket instead?”

You don't say anything, smiling at the agent so he would get the hint. He doesn't. You shake your head at yourself and state the obvious, “I would like to hold hands with you as we walk. Can I, Reid?”

He flushed, crimson covering his pale face. He stutters, “Ye- yes I would like that. And please call me Spencer.” He offers you his hand and you tangle your fingers with his. Within the next second the sweet moment is ruined.

A thief had come out of nowhere and had snatched your back. You stand there gaping at the figure that seems smaller by the second. Spencer didn't take a moment to react; he sprinted after the unsub. You get out of your stupor, your legs make you run towards the thief albeit slower than Spencer.

Spencer catches him. The agent gets punched but he quickly takes control of the situation. He twists the thief’s arm while you take your purse that was now on the street. You take out your phone and call the police. The police arrive soon.

Spencer handles everything and the thief is taken away. You notice that Spencer had a split lip and he was bleeding. “Hey,” you said, taking his attention away from the police. You raise your hand and you touch the cut. He winces.

“Sorry,” you mutter, “My house is right around the corner. I have first aid.” You add, knowing that he doesn't know how to take hints, “Come up?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Fuck, he's adorable. Even with his perfect hair now a complete mess. He looked much, much better as a mess. You had to suppress the urge to lick the bead of blood on his lips.

“That would be nice,” he mumbles.

You bring the man to your apartment, Spencer has taken care of everything. You'll have to go to the police station tomorrow to give a statement. Right now, you focus on the pretty boy instead. You make him sit on the couch.

You bring out the first aid. You wet the cotton with the antiseptic, you sit in front of him. You already liked him. There's no denying that. But seeing him messy with blood turned you on to no fucking end. He was pretty before, now he's sexy to you. Your poor panties were suffering because of it. Completely utterly soaked with your arousal.

You act normal as you sit in front of him. You tilt his head and he lets you. Fuck. Even that made your cunt clench around nothing. You swallow as you press the bud onto his cut. He lets out a whimper. And... you felt yourself going insane, wanting to hear that sound on repeat.

You clean up the wound to the best of your abilities. You sit back satisfied. You grin at him, your hand musing his hair up because you just couldn't control yourself. “All done, pretty boy.”

You can't help but feel disappointed that it was over. He will leave. You'll drown in your own insecurities to ever ask for a second date. “You didn't like me much, did you?” Spencer asked. His hand is in his hair desperately trying to fix his ruined hairstyle.

You scoff playfully, “Why would you think that?”

“Most people I meet find me… overwhelming. Weird,” Spencer said, “I agreed to this date expecting nothing different. It was to satisfy Garcia. But… you were certainly nicer than the people I have met before. I would like to thank you for that.”

Your heart aches as you hear his words. You lean in, both of you sharing the same air now. Your hand is on his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin. “You're not weird, Spencer. You're unique. And you're out of my league. I am sorry if I made you feel bad-”

“No, you didn't,” he cuts you off, leaning in even closer. His eyebrows are furrowed as if he doesn't understand his actions. It was like you were gravity-pulling him in. Your lips brush with his, your breathing heavy. You can hear your heartbeat thumping against your ribcage.

“I never felt this way before,” he murmured, his hands getting tangled in your hair. His eyes were dark, and he closed them. He tried to pull back, trying to have a bit of self-control. He couldn't, he only leans in further, trying to close the gap between both of your lips.

“What way?” You whispered, wondering how you could make this man feel anything.

“I have an urge to kiss you. I have had that urge since you had bitten your lip nervously when I called you out in your childish lying. I have wanted to kiss you since you smiled at me genuinely as I was talking about things you as an average person couldn't possibly be interested in nor were you paying attention."

“Hey!” You chuckled, finding your way to his lap. “I was paying attention,” ‘To your lips’, you didn't add.

“Were you?” He challenged.

“Hmm,” you hum, your hands around his shoulders now. Your fingers twirling his hair near his nape.

“Liar,” he giggles. “I never thought I would find it endearing.”

Your heart warms as you hear his words. “Kiss me, Spencer,” you whispered, forgetting about his split lip. Spencer doesn't seem to care about the cut because he pressed his lips to yours as soon as he got your consent. You moan, your lips parting to welcome his tongue.

The kiss was clumsy. Wet, and sloppy and you loved it. The faint taste of blood coates your taste buds and you love it. Your tongue caresses his, trying to engrave his taste on your lips. You bite his lower lip, opening his cut. He hisses but doesn't break the kiss.

The kiss turns bloody but neither of you cares.

You rather enjoyed it more than you should. You lick the cut before kissing him again, he sucks your tongue tasting his blood on you. Both of you break the kiss before your lips meet his lips again in haste.

He groans into your mouth. You break the kiss and whisper, “Want you.” Your hands were on the hem of his sweater. “Can I?” You asked. He nods and you take it off. You then begin to unbutton the brown dress shirt he wore.

As soon as you get him undressed. Your hands begin to explore his body. He was lanky, and you loved it. He shivers when your finger tweaks his nipple. He sighs your name and you can feel his cock, hard and eager for attention beneath you.

“You like that, baby?” The nickname falls naturally from your lips. Your tongue ghosts over his neck, the hollow of his collarbone. He doesn't reply but you can feel his cock twitch. That's enough of an answer to you.

Your lips find his sensitive nipple. And you suck the hard pebble, enjoying his gasp. You smirk, as your tongue twirls against his sensitive flesh. Your hand gives his other nipple the same attention. You drag your tongue further down his stomach, your lips pressing wet kisses all over his heated skin. “Can I taste you, genius?” You whispered, your mouth took a bit of his skin to bite. You leave a mark of your teeth on his skin.

The mark looks good on him.

Spencer whines, “Yes, please.”

You unzip his pants, tug the cloth down, and free his legs of it. You were going to do the same for his boxers. But you decided to do something else. His boxer briefs were dark due to the pre-cum, one spot more prominent than others.

You place your lips there, and you suck his pre-cum that has seeped into the fabric. He groans at the sight, his eyes getting closed shut as his chest rises up and down. Spencer was breathing through his mouth. You find his cockhead, and suck harder, the material of the boxer getting darker and wetter because of your saliva.

Spencer moans your name, all loud and unabashed in the living room. With his moan comes a plea, “Don't tease, please.” You don't listen. Your tongue flicks over his clothed slit coaxing out more of his pre-cum. Only when you are satisfied with the mess you created, do you pull back. You snap the man back to reality by pulling the hem of his boxers and letting it snap on his skin. He whimpers, and you wonder briefly if he was as freaky as you. You wondered if he liked pain.

A discovery for another day.

You set him free from the confines of his boxers. His cock springs up, the cockhead hitting his stomach. The cockhead was a dark pink, bordering on a painful red. His cock was begging to cum with the way the veins were bulging, and his slit kept letting out beads of pre-cum. He was long enough to stretch out your cunt perfectly, he was thick enough to roll your eyes back.

He was… to describe this with a single word was impossible. All you knew was that you wanted his cum in your mouth, you wanted his cum painting your pussy walls. You wanted him. You wanted him ruined by you. You don't let a single thought of insecurity creep into your mind.

You distract yourself with his cock instead. You use your hand to squeeze more pre out of him. You enjoy the way the pearly white liquid drips onto your hand. You press a kiss to each of his balls. He gasps, both of his hands in a tight fist. His eyes were closed.

“Look at me, baby,” you whispered, “Look at me as I have my meal, baby.”

You lick all over his cockhead. You don't care if he opened his eyes or not. You were too busy moaning as you tasted him. Salty, and thick, you loved it.

Spencer Reid is now your favorite flavor.

You begin to take more of his cock in your mouth. Stopping halfway through his length because you didn't want to choke. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose before you hollow your mouth. You begin to suck, not giving a fuck about your technique. You're hungry. You're eating him up.

This was as simple as that.

Your tongue runs all over his shaft, and the corners of your lips have saliva and pre-cum oozing out. Making you look like an absolutely pathetic mess. Spencer whimpers as he looks at you, his hand coming down to gently wipe away the mess. Even when his mind was numb with pleasure, he managed to be sweet. You reward his sweetness with a harsh suck causing his hips to thrust forward. The action made you take more of his cock, and you choke.

He tries to pull out but you stop his ministrations with a sharp slap on his thigh. You glare at him despite the fact your view is blurry with tears. Spencer tenses before relaxing. “Sorry,” he groans, “I didn't mean to do that. Feels so good, sweetheart.”

The nickname is a melody to your ears. You begin to bob your head upside down. You blink, letting the tears fall, you see the way his knuckles were turning white from the fists he made. You put your hands over his fists and pry them open. You intertwined his fingers with yours. His nails now dig into your skin, and yours does the same. You both have crescent-shaped marks on each other's hands.

Your nails dig into his skin a bit harder as you slowly take more of his cock down your throat. You take him down to the hilt, your nose pressed into his mound and you breathe in his primal scent. It drives you fucking insane. It reminds you of your sopping wet cunt that is aching to be filled.

Your eyes roll back as you continue. You move a bit and find yourself between one of his legs. You pressed yourself against the shin of his leg. You moan, the vibration of the sound sends jolts of pleasure to the boy. He cums, all thick and hot down your throat without a warning.

You let his cock slip out of your mouth, you couldn't manage to swallow all of his cum. It coats your lower chin, you rest your head on his thigh as you begin to ride his leg like a deprived whore. Your soaked panties weren't much of a textural pleasure against your pussy. But you would take anything you can get.

You wanted to cum. That's it.

Your actions are interrupted by a sharp yank of your hair. You moan from the pain and the pleasure that comes along with it. Your blurry eyes focus on Spencer, looking at you with wide brown eyes. “Come up, darling,” he said, gently, “Let me take care of you now.”

You whimper, hating the way you were interrupted but listen. You find yourself on his lap again, your back pressed to his chest. The brown-haired boy kisses your nape. “You were so good to me,” he praises, “Thank you.”

You wanted to reply, but instead, you let out a soft noise. Your head resting on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good girl,” and you nearly cum from the praise. His eyes are curious as he sees your reaction. The man is memorizing your reactions so he can play your body like a fiddle in the future.

You were giving him all the answers.

Good girl indeed.

He unbuttons the blouse you were wearing. It reveals your bra, and your nipples straining against the silk material. Spencer pulls the bra up, freeing your breasts. Spencer hums in satisfaction as he uses both of his hands to knead the soft flesh. You moan as he pinches your nipples, he plays with your breasts effectively.

You were so wet, you could feel your juices had coated your thighs. “Spencer,” you whine, “Do something please.”

He stills, “You want more?” He breathes down your neck, and you shiver as you feel the exhale of air on your skin.

“Yes,” you beg.

“What do you want?” He asked, his hand sprawled over your tummy. He pressed his hand softly, his fingers tapping on your skin in the similar way he tapped the wood at the beginning of the date.

“Anything,” you gasp, “anything you give me, Spence.”

He chuckled, and it was a bit mean to your ears. “And to think you didn't like me. How wrong you have proven me, darling. One of the few to ever do so,” he whispered, his tongue peeking out to lick the shell of your ear. You moan as you feel the wet muscle on your skin.

His hand travels further down your body. His finger snapped the button of your jeans open. He slides down your jeans alongside your panties down to your knees. Exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air. You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes closing as you melt into his touch.

He was looking at your pretty cunt, his fingers pushing your pussy lips aside to see your cute clit and your slit. “Beautiful,” he whispered. And he watched your cunt clench around nothing. He pressed his palm onto your slick sex, he began to slowly soak his palm onto your arousal. The pressure of his hand is delicious.

But you needed to be ravished.

He pulled his hand away before he brought it back to your pussy in the form of a slap. You jolt in his hold as he slaps your pussy, once, twice. The wet sound ringing in your ears as you nearly cum from this.

“You're really wet,” he notes, his fingers swiping up and down your folds. His digits were glistening with your arousal. You don't say anything, feeling your body burning with lust.

His thumb finds your clit, he plays with the bud. Flickering it with his fingers, even going as far as pinching it. He makes the poor bud all swollen and sensitive, you let him do all that, getting closer to your high from the simple yet mind-blowing touches.

“Spencer,” you moan, as you feel his fingers playing around your slit. Teasing you with the hint of going in but never venturing inside of your walls. “Come on,” you whine.

He tuts you, his fingers finding your clit to pinch the bud rather harshly making you see stars. “Don't be impatient,” he said.

His finger finds your entrance again, this time he pushes his middle finger in. The slide is extremely easy and wet. You moan as you let yourself be filled. The single finger pressed deep inside of you, and he twisted the finger making you see white.

“Warm,” he mumbles, “Tight too…” He pressed his ring finger in, and soon he was knuckles deep inside of your pussy. “You can take it,” he whispered, as his other arm was wrapped around your stomach keeping you caged.

“Yes,” you agreed with a loud whine, “I can!”

He begins to slowly fuck his fingers into you. The squelching sounds made because of how slick your pussy was spurring him on. “So wet for me,” he groaned near your ear, as his fingers found your spongy spot.

You gasp he expertly curls his fingers to the spot, his fingers rubbing the soft, yet hard sensitive muscle. You begin to squirm, feeling entirely overwhelmed. His arm tightened around you. His fingers begin to thrust inside you, faster and faster by each second.

You cry out his name. He doesn't stop. He won't stop. “Please, please, please!” You beg, but you don't tell him to stop so he continues. His lips were pressed to your neck, his tongue licking your pulse. “Good girl,” he groaned, as his fingers got soaked in your juices. Your slick walls clenched around his digits like a glove as you feel closer and closer to the edge.

He pushed a third finger in without warning. And it burns, but it burns so good that your eyes roll back. The coil that had gathered in your stomach snaps, and you feel yourself relax as your mind lets go. You don't even realize you're squirting, your cunt spasming around Spencer's fingers.

It feels so, so good.

You feel your eyes getting droopy, you feel yourself completely content and your mind breaking away from reality. You think you hear Spencer softly calling your name out. And you swear you whispered a coherent response.

You feel a pair of lips kissing your forehead.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you.”

Suffice it to say, that wasn't the only date you and Spencer went on.

[luveline]

hi queen 😙

could you please do one where the BAU are staying in another state for a case so they have to stay in a hotel and for some reason hotch has to come see reader in the morning or before bed or something so he knocks on the door of her room and she opens and she’s just standing there with like her hair in two braids and like matching pink pyjamas and hotch just has a little laugh because he’s never seen that side of her before?? 💕💕

this would be like season 1 or 2 hotch :D

cw reader has hair that can be put into two braids

He texts you first but you don't answer. Hotch isn't happy to encroach on your space so early but he can't remember what you said last night about the killer's motivations and he needs to know, desperately, in case this missing piece of the puzzle can stop another young man from being murdered. 

"L/N?" he asks, knocking on the door quickly. "Y/N, are you awake?" 

There's a definite sleeping groan. Hotch winces at the sound but what else can he do? You'll have to wake up in an hour anyway. 

"Y/N? I'm sorry to wake you, but I need to ask you about Cory, last night's victim? You said it seemed more like an arsonist than a murderer, what did you mean by–" 

The door swings open. "...that." Hotch stares at you. 

You have your hair braided away from your face, strands rocked free and frizzy. More amusing is the baby pink pyjamas you're wearing; adorable little slips of fabric, pants that stop mid-calf and a camisole with soft lace at the chest. Hotch immediately looks back to your face as he realises his once over, but he can't hold back a laugh. A small chuckle, harmless. 

"Are you laughing at me?" you ask tiredly, voice croaky but threaded with amusement. "You woke me up, okay? This is your fault. Did you bring me coffee, at least?" 

Hotch puts his empty hands up in defeat. 

"Come in, then, before someone else sees me." 

Hotch follows you inside. He doesn't feel any pressure or awkwardness, but he needs to make sure you aren't either, and so he takes a cross-armed position against the wall. You run your hand down a braid and pull out the elastic, absentminded as you shake out your hair. 

"I said it was more like arson because of the mess. Arsons like to ruin things. And I just don't see how it could be solely pleasure based after such a massacre," —you move to the second braid and repeat the process— "the adrenaline runs out eventually, but the blood was– it was everywhere. It would've taken effort. There are photos on my phone if you want to see." 

You gibe him your phone, open to photographs you took last night. Hotch clicks through them in disgust. Like you said, it takes a lot of effort to make a crime scene look like this. 

"We could be looking for someone with an impulse control disorder," Horch guesses. "Our pool of suspects would completely change. We've been looking for people who have untoward desires centred around teenage boys–" 

"But if we're searching for someone who can't control their impulses we could easily be looking at a teenage boy. He'd have reason to be with his victims that wouldn't cause concern." 

Hotch finds it very difficult to take you seriously in your pinks. He laughs again, and you know exactly what it is he's laughing at, waving him away as you bend down by your suitcase under the desk. "Go sharpen up, Hotchner. And get me a coffee, please." You glance at him from over your shoulder. "I'd like to see you in your pyjamas." 

"I'm sure you would, agent." 

Hotch thinks more than he should about you in your thin pyjamas, the way they hugged your thighs and the naked lengths of your arms, your ankles, he's ridiculous, but it's stuff he's not used to seeing. He's usually so focused. 

He brings you a coffee and an apology croissant, which you eat in pleased silence beside him, fully dressed, hair tamed. He can't not see you as you were that morning, eyes puffy with tiredness but a hundred times the professional he'd been. 

"I can feel you looking at me," you murmur. "Laugh again and I'm telling Gideon." 

"Ah, and he'd reprimand me."  

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" you ask, almost monotone as you drink your coffee. "Do you have the case file for Patrick Gorden? I wanna compare the blood splatter on the walls." 

[alicerosejensen]

Something about sin. Pt.1

Synopsis: Leon is ready to rip all these damn feelings out of himself and tell himself over and over again that he needs a good fuck. You're too young and too cute for him. Leon knows that he shouldn't even touch you, but then why are you tearing all the sinful essence out of him?

Warning: no erotica but it is mentioned; Older!Leon; Innocent Reader; Fem/reader; age difference; Leon is tormented by his conscience; Old man/young girl; Mentions of sex; in fact (in this chapter) the reader does not view Leon as a love/sexual interest; The reader is the daughter of another DSO agent.

A/N: I apologize for any mistakes. I really like the idea of dark Leon, but I don’t want to make him look like a bastard).

Feedback is welcome. If you want to point out mistakes or scold me, please do so in a gentle manner.

Part 2

This was wrong...

But 'Wrong' is not the word that could describe how he feels every time he sees you. One slightest appearance and Leon immediately feels like Humbert from Nabokov’s novel “Lolita,” who ruined the life of a little girl, well, the only difference is that you seem to be 19-20 years old, and not 14. Actually, it’s already wrong to want you, given that huge fact that you...don’t give him any reason.

You don't wag your pretty ass in front of him, you don't wear revealing clothes, and damn you're a victim of his sinful thoughts! When the fuck did this start?

The day he saw you might have been the right answer. This was the day when his colleague, the only one in the DSO besides Hannigan and Helena, sympathized with him and believed that what was standing in front of him was not a cold-blooded killer of the president, but the same Leon who would rather take a bullet and give his life than kill the one he was supposed to protect. The clarification of all the circumstances and the justification of his innocence dragged on for a long time, maybe that’s why your father then simply wanted to show an act of friendship and support by inviting him to a family dinner? Returning back, Leon thinks that it would be better if he went through hell again.

Leon immediately realized that the dinner was arranged primarily for him. Fried chicken with sides, a light salad, your mom made appetizers and even made a casserole. One is too many for him. The icing on the cake was when your father opened an expensive bottle of wine. He immediately felt awkward about this, after all, who was he to be bothered with so much, but you...

"Mr. Kennedy, what do you want? Maybe a salad? The thin sound of your voice almost made him feel weak. Your beautiful hands held the salad bowl, and almost as if on cue, you were ready to fill his plate with whatever he wanted. And those doe eyes looked at him so sweetly.

Leon could have sworn that at that moment some kind of blessing...or curse came down to him. He doesn't even remember what you were wearing. Some kind of brown blouse with jeans? He didn’t even pay attention to it, his eyes were completely focused on your pretty face. It was rubbish. You yourself were old enough to be his daughter and, as was said earlier, you didn’t even give him a hint to think that you were not indifferent to him. Actually, at dinner, when you were sitting between your parents opposite him, Leon saw how uncomfortable you were. You ate almost nothing and didn’t say anything, and an hour later you ran upstairs to your room, citing the fact that you hadn’t finished some task yet.

And your father quickly let you go, so you quickly jumped up the stairs like a rabbit, running away from his insidious gaze.

Maybe he just needed to let off some steam, he decided. In fact, it is not very often that there are women in his house who can spend at least a night with him. Last time it was Ada, and sex with her was too rough and fast. He cum almost as soon as she found herself in his arms, and for some reason Leon at that moment was not thinking about her, but about how it would anger Simmons, who believed that Kennedy was not worthy of her. However, it was true.

It seems like it's starting to become a habit, wanting women he doesn't deserve. At least Ada herself comes to him and Leon knows that she will not demand anything from him, they have never even had dinner together, and what did they do together besides sex, battles and flirting? That's right, nothing. But he has even less interaction with you.

Ada's black hair is too short, unlike yours, which could fall all over him if you were sleeping on his chest in this bed right now. But Ada never laid her head on his chest and always left unnoticed, leaving behind a barely perceptible trail of perfume. You wouldn't have left, Leon thinks, looking at the ceiling, ignoring the brown gaze of the woman he's been crazy about for so many years. Why is he comparing you and Ada at all? Two women who don't look like each other at all, which makes damn sense. You don't have to be like this! Your father would rather put his neck under the axe than allow his daughter to serve in the DSO or any other service, but in any case, you do not aspire there.

As a result, a woman will always understand when someone else settles in her man's head and Ada just smiles slyly moving closer to him, but all Leon hears is the rustle of a blanket.

"Well, who is she?"

As always, there was no hint of jealousy. Ada is the epitome of calm and composure, but Leon really doesn't know what to answer her.

After all, you are nobody and at the same time you have planted strong roots in his head.

"She?"

He pretends not to understand her, but Ada has long figured him out. For her, he will always remain a rookie cop.

"Yes." She still smiles, resting her head on her hand while lying on her side, "Who is this 'Jolene' What took my puppy away from me?"

Leon grins, but at the same time he feels an unpleasant ache in his chest from her words. Puppy... of course, he remained that way, and Ada was good at getting to the bottom of it, and yet she did not say that he was her lover, because there is no love between them as such.

"There is no 'Jolene' in my life and it is unlikely that there will be," he said wearily, reaching out to hug her, but contrary to expectation, he did not feel the desired warmth, and the itch inside grew like a wild beast intending to get only one thing - you.

In the morning, Ada disappeared as usual, and Leon was not even surprised. But instead of a paper airplane with a lipstick imprint on the kitchen table, he found a small note, folded in half, where only one thing was written: “I think you really need a family. You should think about it."

Maybe Ada really was right, but if she knew your age, she would obviously look at him with bewilderment, thinking that somewhere on the mission he was hit hard on the head. On the other hand, maybe she would have sarcastically joked that the older a man gets, the more he wants to have a young girlfriend instead of the old one, although he wouldn’t dare call Ada old.

Besides, you were supposed to remain only in his head and Leon could only hope that one day he would simply forget about you. For example, fucking with a random girl from a bar, but bad luck, against his own will, closing his eyes, Leon still wanted you. As if you were the one clinging to his back with your nails, leaving bloody streaks marking him and screaming his name. Complete crap.

You live your quiet life, not knowing what a zombie is, in complete material wealth and parental love. When your second meeting with Leon happens, he sees that you are dressed in some kind of wide sundress and are trying to drag something heavy alone, although dad strictly ordered you not to do this, but you, as a caring daughter, did not listen to him because wanted your father to do something other than hard work instead of carrying those heavy boxes out of the barn. The fact that you yourself were barely coping, not very successfully, was ignored by you.

Leon couldn't look at it calmly. He himself told you twice to leave the boxes, but you just snorted offended at him.

"Spoiled girl"

You want to prove something to someone, although this will most likely harm your health and force your father to fork out for doctors and medicine, so Leon, not paying attention to your snorting face, took the load from you and carried it into the house, leaving you with only light boxes.

In fact, no matter how hard Leon tries to convince himself that he just needs a break, your game keeps cutting him like a knife. If he were 21 years old again and he could get to know you before Raccoon, you could hum beautiful lyrical poems about how a boy fell in love with a girl and the whole world around him changed. As if you could be those two stupid lovers who burn alive in their love until finally they become disgusted with each other, although more and more often Leon realizes that in his loyalty and devotion only he would disgust you, not you from him. He would be your devoted puppy, as he has always been for Ada.

You would be everything to him.

Or already?

Is it right to look at a young girl like that when he is almost an old man himself? Why don't you have some annoying boyfriend with whom you can constantly text and chat on the phone thinking that this is the love of your life? And why can't he just throw you out of his head?!

"Mr. Kennedy" the way his last name comes off your tongue makes him almost rush to you and take you somewhere far away where no one would find you. However, Leon is disgusted by the idea that he will be the cause of fear and tears of an innocent girl who is completely innocent of what is happening in his unhealthy head. To tell the truth, it's not even lust… No, of course he feels physically attracted, but first there is some kind of dog instinct maturing inside to protect you from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE.

Then you started awkwardly calling his name and he just became Leon, always smiling when you ask him for something or just out of politeness ask how he is, whereas in fact you don't really care what's going on in his life. At least that's what he thinks, not really knowing what thoughts are going through your head.

Leon can't possibly know that you want someone older. Just a little colder so that you can become someone's secret, because even though you're young, you're of age. And yet you're watching these weird love movies that Leon thinks are sweeter than the cheapest chocolate and probably the books on the shelves have similar plots. A love to fight for. Disgusting rubbish, really.

But your smile is getting softer and Leon feels like he's giving up.

But Ada really understands that she is finished. Your beauty is incomparable, and even though she smiles in Leon's face, her heart also breaks apart when he says another woman's name in a dream. Huh, women…girls. How easily were you able to get hold of someone she's been involved with for so long.

In fact, it's a shame and Ada also understands that the years of youth are merciful to you, unlike her, and in fact you grabbed Leon's leash and there's no point in begging to find another man. Besides, Leon himself has always been eager for normality, for what he can build with an ordinary civilian girl. You will be a faithful girl to him, and he will be yours.

Someone else always comes. Younger and more beautiful. In Leon's case, meeting someone like you was also a well-deserved reward, so their nights are becoming increasingly rare and have long lost their passion. The only thing Ada doesn't understand is why you won't pull the leash on yourself. However, this question quickly disappears when she finds out that Leon stubbornly drowns his feelings in whiskey, in her and other women, who, though few, still have them. And then, like a faithful dog, he runs up to you just to wag his tail at the sight of you.

In the end, Ada doesn't even back down, but just waits for Leon to draw a line between them that can no longer be crossed. And waiting for you to lie on these soft pillows instead of her, like his beloved princess, or climb onto his lap and his lips will leave kisses on your neck. Leon deserves you. He deserves his share of happiness in a world where the government has turned him into a perfect weapon against bioterrorism.

Leon's touch is becoming more and more relaxed and you are not afraid of his wide chest, given your size difference. He could have easily swatted you, but for God's sake, Leon S Kennedy would rather put a bullet in their brains than hurt you. You hug him, listening to the pounding in your chest when he gives you an obscenely expensive Christmas present and drinks hot chocolate with you. No, Leon likes sweets, but in moderation. All those bright ribbons, the Christmas tree… not for him, but if you were in his house now, he would decorate his apartment for you and then hug you for several hours, nuzzling your head hoping that his phone would remain quiet.

Leon wants to put you in his bed, he's even ready to be your sugar daddy and get punched in the face by your dad knowing that you're going to grab onto him, but he just wants you. Like a stupid old dog who wants to be petted by a new owner. And Leon is sure that he will die of longing if you don't do it. The fact that you still don't have a boyfriend is just comforting, but anxiety grows when your father tells him that he's worried that his beloved daughter isn't interested in boys her own age.

"Anyone older?" your father says rhetorically while helping Leon fix his bike, "Buddy, I don't want an old man like you or me to become my son-in-law."

"But this way you'll have something to talk about," Leon grins, feeling that he has everything to step on the gas.

And he will take the risk again, even if it means a broken nose.

[xxacademy]

BLOODIED HANDS OF A LOVER'S MISFORTUNE —THRONE OF HIS OWN PART II

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

-> READ PART ONE

Summary: Blood, wine, fangs, touch-- his touch. Leon Kennedy made you his princess. He put you in pretty dresses, and put is mark on every part of you. But, it's time to face the reality of your situation. You are not Leon's princess, you are his back up. Now you're forced to do your job, and come face to face with the chaos of the vampire court.

Word Count: 2.5k

Content warnings: blood/gore, reader gets drugged and restrained, weapons, vampires, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil, i shamefully reference one of Leon Kennedy's cringiest one-liner's.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this!! action & horror elements are the best. i think i could write descriptions about blood and wounds forever... it's so strangely fun (?) anwaysss im playing re4r again and i cannot get leon's kicks outta my brain, lol. i hope you enjoy, and as always thank you for your patience. i am a full-time student and i have a full-time job, so writing can take me foreverrrrr.

Leon sits among the vampiric overlords while you sit alone, drinking a cup of tea, wearing yet another tightly corseted Victorian monstrosity.

The servants were undoubtedly kind to offer you clean clothes and breakfast, but that didn't make you want to leave any less. The uneasiness lingers dense in your stomach.

Last night was... Indulgent, to say the least. But the welcome has been overstayed, and you're antsy to leave the vampire's den. Hopefully, Leon will be quick to end their little conclave.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You awoke suddenly to a loud clank beside you. To your groggy surprise, your tea cup had fallen and shattered at your feet.

The idle warmth of the fireplace and the cozy living room must have lulled you to sleep. Despite your mind being deep in a heavy fog, you found the strength to look around the room and confirm that you were still, in fact, alone.

You meandered to the heavily draped window and peeked outside. You prepared yourself to be blinded by searing bright snow, but... Oh, dear god.

The sun was setting. You rubbed your eyes in harrowed disbelief. The sun was fucking setting.

How could it be? It was only just morning. You couldn't have possibly slept the entire day.

Your hands were trembling mess as you squatted down to analyze the shattered tea cup. You grabbed a piece of jagged porcelain and brought it to your nose, breathing deeply.

You caught an unmistakably bitter note buried underneath aromatic peppermint. A sedative herb most definitely was used to lace the tea. You felt ashamed; how could you be so naïve, falling for such a novice trick?

But, there was no time to dwell. You scoured the room for a weapon. The only object that stood out to you was a particularly pointy piece of metal off an ornate candelabra. You ripped out the half-melted candles and bent the metal into a makeshift weapon, poking it into your skin to test its sharpness.

This should work, and if it doesn't? Well, It will, you told yourself.

Jaunty candlestick weapon in hand, you headed for the door, which was, unsurprisingly, locked. You analyzed the clunky metalwork and quickly determined it was an old-fashioned skeleton lock. You pulled several pins from your hair, fashioned them into impromptu Allen wrenches, and began picking the lock.

After several attempts and numerous broken pins, you finally jimmied the door open.

You set out into the gothic night-veiled estate, creeping through the labyrinth of hallways. Your heeled shoes and sweeping gown made stealth damn near impossible, but you had no choice but to make it work.

You followed the networking corridors aimlessly, pressing your ear to closed doors in the hope of finding Leon.

You heard pattering footsteps coming towards you, and in a desperate attempt to hide, you angled yourself behind a column of an archway. But as the person passed, a white-gowned servant, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned on her heels to face you.

Glowing red eyes met yours, and a mindless, other-worldly voice flowed from her: "You made a very grave mistake, chérie." The servant lunged at you, unarmed, fangs bared.

The candlestick you weld plummeted to the ground, and you grabbed the servant by the wrists and held her firm, straining to keep her away as she thrashed with all her might.

You threw her down by twisting her arm to the ground and holding her in place by firmly pressing your heel into her sternum. She cried a blood-curdling howl in pain, thrashing under your foot.

"Where is he? Where is Leon?" You demanded, rage filling your wavering voice.

The servant snickered, flashing small, jagged fangs.

"Tell me!" You demanded for the last time.

She was hysterically laughing now-- It was useless to attempt to communicate with a mindless thrall.

You reached for the candlestick and quickly bent over the thrashing servant and slit her throat with the sharp metal edge.

Hot blood spilled down her virgin-white dress, but her glowing red eyes stayed fully conscious. "You're a fool," she mocked, her fingers laced around your wrist.

You sunk your heel back into her sternum, this time with much more force, causing her head to smack against the floor. She hissed in pain. Blood was still pouring from her neck as you forced her hand off of yours. You repositioned the candlestick in your hand, aiming it for her heart.

You held her still by wrapping your hand tightly around her neck and drove the weapon through her chest. Her head lulled to the side limply, and her glowing eyes dulled- she was dead, finally.

You took a moment to catch your breath, staring at the woman's lifeless body. You couldn't recall a single vampiric servant from the previous night, so why now?

As you began to regain your composure, you looked down at yourself, pretty dress all covered in blood. It was an honest reflection of how terrible the last twenty-four hours have gone.

Regardless, you grabbed your blood-drenched candlestick and began creeping through the hallways once more. No one else seemed to be coming for you now. You were utterly alone as you tip-toed through the darkened estate. Utterly alone-- besides the gut-wrenching feeling that you were being watched.

The oil-painted portraits that decorated the looming walls felt like they saw everything. They saw you massacre that servant, they saw you lie to their rulers, they saw you drunkenly court your colleague. Maybe it was your own internalization showing, but you couldn't shake the feeling.

But you felt relief when you spotted a warm candlelit gleam emanating from the crack of a closed door. It had been the first trace of light you'd seen in these gloomy halls.

As you approached the door, you heard overlapping voices talking and laughing. It sounded like a blend of English and French was being spoken, adding to the dissonance.

You ever so gently pressed your ear to the door, attempting to make out what was happening. You couldn't understand a lick of the French being spoken. But you overheard something in English: "When are you going to get the girl?" a mysterious voice asked.

Another more familiar voice replied. “Quand nous en aurons fini avec lui.”

The King.

They must have Leon here. Your stomach dropped.

What could they possibly be doing to him? And the girl, that has to be me, right?

You don't know how it happened or how your cover could have been blown. What if they killed Leon?

There's no way you'd be able to defeat them on your own. Your mind traces all the rational options to go about this, but you conclude there is none. There is only one way.

You draw a quivering breath and open the mysterious door.

To your surprise, you revealed a grand banquet hall swarmed with almost the same lineup from last night's soirée.

The creak of the door caused all of their necks to turn to you instantly. The first thing you noticed was a sea of glowing crimson eyes. All the Lords have been turned now.

The King's stark pale skin and deep blood-red eyes burrowed through your soul. The pointed corners of his mouth raised in an impish smile. At the King's side was Leon, his arms bound and his head hung limp.

He had been draped and displayed at the hands of the merciless creatures that stalked this land. A centerpiece to their dastardly festivities.

"The bunny makes its way to the wolf's den. It's almost commendable." The King squinted, his head reaching forward in his throne to get a better look at you. "It looks like you even found someone in my estate to prey on. How scary."

"How did you find out?" You kept your words steady and firm.

The King laughed, "Ah, this is a good story."

"Go on," you said, taking a step closer.

The King shifted in his chair and took a sip of what was presumably blood from a crystal glass. "I had one of my men doing perimeter control on the south end. He made it all the way to the road, where he saw a car a few meters away-- and chérie, cars do not drive on that road."

Your heart sunk.

"He found a car and stopped it. I could tell you who he found, but I think you might already know. But in case you need a refresher, it was a United States agent with a very detailed file about you and Mr. Kennedy in his car."

You tried to close the gap between you and the King, but two guards restrained you by your arms after throwing your makeshift weapon to the ground.

"You bastard! You bloody bastard! What did you do to him? And what have you done to Leon!?"

"You're going to love this ma chérie. Leon is on the path to grand ascension— he'll become one of us soon. As for the agent that brought you here, he was at lunch the following day. Not exactly my taste, as I prefer the sweet blood of a woman, but he sufficed."

The room erupted in laughter, and long fangs taunted you everywhere you looked. Even the men who held your arms laughed at you.

You tried to break free of their grip, but they outmatched you. The men lifted you by your arms and dropped you before the King's throne. They pushed you down by your shoulders so that your knees crashed to the ground.

You hoped Leon would look up or say something. But he just rested on his knees, head down, in unwavering silence.

Your voice cracked, "And what about me?"

The King clicked his tongue, scanning your blood-soaked figure with heavy lids and a cocky glint in his eye. "You're simply too... Beautiful to just let go."

You rolled your eyes, "Give me a break! You think I'll just go along with you, easy as that?"

His lips formed into a cruel smirk, "I do."

You noticed earlier that the men who restrain you have swords attached to their hips, which could quickly turn the tide of this unlucky evening. The answer is, how?

"Just you wait, little dear." The King arose from his seat and picked up Leon by the collar of his shirt.

The King was tall; he easily towered over everyone in the room. His raven black hair flowed long down his back, extenuating his gaunt appearance.

It appeared that Leon had also been drugged. His body was limp, and he barely resisted as the King pushed him up and threw him into the arms of guards.

The King cleared his throat, demanding the room's attention to himself. "Good evening, everyone. You all know Leon here; He was incredibly loyal and fearlessly dedicated to our cause. But it's recently come to light that he and his darling little girlfriend are federal agents for the United States military."

The crowd murmured their feelings in disgust. "I know, this is very disheartening. But, I have a fitting punishment for the traitors."

The King dragged on about how he planned on turning you both into vampiric slaves, doomed to a life of servitude. But you couldn't care less. He clearly underestimated you.

You notice Leon begin to come to consciousness. It started with his hands forming into fists and then him rolling his neck from side to side.

He lifted his head, sunken blue eyes meeting yours. You were kneeling on the ground, dress blood-soaked and arms forcefully restrained by guards, all before him, to save him.

Leon's eyes darted to the swords the men beside you adorned, and then they darted back to you. He raised an eyebrow as if asking if you saw what he saw.

Yes— you mouthed the words, and Leon nodded.

"Ahh, you're awake." The King forcefully grabbed Leon's neck, digging his talon-like nails into his skin. "Your time has come, Kennedy."

Leon remained silent in the wake of the King's cruelness.

The King yelled for more guards, and they arrived holding a small box upon a velvet pillow. The King opened the box, taking a sizeable, needled syringe between his fingers.

That's how they're doing it, and Umbrella parasite, of course, You thought to yourself.

The guards holding your arms tightened their grip as the King approached Leon, flicking the serum vial menacingly.

"Let the coronation commence!" The King exclaimed to exuberant cheers.

In a quiet voice, he said to Leon only, "I wasn't planning on the girl being here, but how sweet is it that your lover gets to witness your rebirth?"

Leon scoffed, staring at the King directly, sizing up his foe. "We'll see about that."

The King was unphased as he closed the gap, reaching the needle closer and closer to Leon's neck, and when he was in range, Leon charged his leg and landed a devastating kick to the King's chest.

He went flying back and fell to the ground with wind-knocking ferocity. The syringe skidded across the marble floor, far from the King's grasp.

Before anyone could react, Leon freed himself from the guard's grip, flipping one of them over his shoulder and slamming him to the ground. He kicked in the other guard's kneecap, sending him down instantly. Leon stole both swords from either injured guard and pointed them at the King.

Sweat dripped from Leon's brow, and his skin looked washed out and pale. But he stood tall in the wake of the tyrannical leader. The people around began to stir. Some remained frozen in shock, and some readied themselves for a fight.

This was about to get very ugly, and you needed to break free. With your knees pushed into the ground, it was difficult to maneuver against the guard's strength.

You hastily attempted to drive your elbow into the stomach of one of the guards. He deflected it. But you tried again, aiming for his knee. You landed it this time.

"You bitch," the guard grunted as he stumbled back. The other one grabbed you by your arms, lifting you to your feet and placing you into a headlock.

Leon reacted swiftly by throwing one of his swords in your direction. The guard flinched as the sword propelled through the air, seemingly aimed right at his head.

But, you caught the sword by its hilt and wasted no time driving the blade through the belly of the guard who restrained you. The other guard, who was still reeling from his punched-in knee, was next. It was light work for you as you twisted the blade through his chest.

Leon called for you, requesting your backup as he fought off the vampire spawns. They had Leon surrounded, protecting their King like devoted honey bees.

You axed through the crowd, driving your long sword through the hearts of fresh vamplings. Leon held his own impeccably well. He pushed away hungry fangs with ease, kicking and slicing the hoard.

You joined Leon and pressed your back against his as you fought against the opponents from behind.

Through ribbons of blood, chaos, and murder, you gritted through your teeth, "What's the plan?"

"Kill the King and run," Leon grunted.

"Where to?"

"The cabin."

"You got it; I'll follow your lead." You couldn't hide the smirk that formed across your lips. It felt good to finally be reunited and dishing out justice.

Leon chuckled exasperatedly, "Just stay alive, sweetheart, and we'll all be singing kumbaya later."

part three coming soon xx

!! tag list -> @g4ys0n @elijahsprincess

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

Could you write an NBC Hannibal One-shot, where fem!reader was a surgeon like him, who worked along side him for a couple of weeks and later meets him after he nearly got crucified in Baltimore. After Hannibal get‘s released from the hospital, they start to get to know each other.Maybe in the end there is some fluff and smut (if you are comfortable)

Hannibal X Reader: Stitches and sweet kisses

Warnings: wounds, brief mentions of death, smut, fluff, penetration (p in v), mentions of oral, pet names, soft sex, rough sex, sub x dom (if you squint), praise kink, breeding kink, female reader, no use of y/n, female anatomy.

Word count: 2,7K

You were used to odd patients. It was a common occurrence in your line of work but you never expected this. He has been rushed in by an FBI officer and immediately taken to a room. He didn’t need any drastic surgery. His wounds were not extreme but he had lost a lot of blood and was having a hard time breathing. You should have handed him over to another doctor but the moment you laid eyes on him you’d recognized.

You only worked with him a week but you’d never forget him. You’d been one of the surgeons in the room when he lost his first patient. A little girl, no older than six. She had a tumor that needed to be removed but there had been complications during surgery. You couldn’t save her. Everyone took the loss hard but it seemed to have hit Hannibal the hardest. A day after the incident you saw him walk into the main office with his resignation. You never saw him again. 

Until today that is.

There were holes in his palms and a large purple bruise around his neck that told you that there had been a rope around it. Your curiosity peaked the more you worked on healing him. He looked awfully vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. Once you’d fixed him up as best you could and put on some medication for his pain you made your way to the FBI agent outside his door. You expected they wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“What happened to him?”

“Someone tried to kill him. Jack Crawford was the one who found him. They say the guy had him positioned like Christ on the cross. I mean what kind of sick fuck does that?”

You turned back to look at Hannibal through the small glass of the door. He was out cold due to his medication but his face held a deep sadness in it.

“What kind of sick bastard indeed.”

The days passed quickly. Whenever you weren't working on healing people or helping around the hospital you found yourself hanging around Hannibal's room. You’d go in to check on his vitals but you’d soon find yourself pulling a chair next to him, your eyes traveling over his face as he slept. He was always unconscious when you were around but you couldn’t help but talk to him. As weird as it sounds it felt easy to be around him. He was the small break in the chaos of your life.

One day when you’d been taking his vitals his eyes fluttered open. You watched him look at you, his eyes traveling around the room before falling back on your face. You gave him a small smile, continuing your work. He watched you take his pressure and jot some things down on his clipboard.

“I bet you don’t remember me.”

“I never forget a face.”

“Some memory you must have.”

“It normally doesn't fail me. Though I do have a hard time with names. I can't seem to recall yours.”

You introduced yourself to him with a smile. 

“Ah yes, how could I forget.”

Hannibal continued to look at you as you moved around the room. A small frown made its way to his face as he began to remember when he’d last seen you. He would never forget that day no matter how hard he tried. His heart rate spiked a bit at the memory causing you to look at him in concerne.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. Remembering is all.”

You seemed to understand what he meant immediately, your own face twisting to match the sadness he felt inside. He didn’t remember much about you but he knew you were a good doctor. He’d walked past you on the day after the surgery and had noticed the tears in your eyes. You’d felt the loss of the girl just as much as he had. But unlike him you’d continued your work.

“How do you do it?”

“Sorry?”

“How do you keep working after…”

He couldn’t even bear to say it.

“It wasn’t easy. I took a month off. Started going to therapy before finally feeling ready to come back.”

You tugged up a chair, taking a seat next to him. Hannibal turned to look at you, his eyes focused on your face. 

“I’ve lost a lot of people but I've saved a lot too. I guess that's just how it is, you know? Do what you can and try your best to keep going. Therapy helps a lot. I still go every week, it helps to talk to someone about your shit you know?”

Hannibal let out a small laugh causing you to look up at him with curiosity.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No it’s just that…well…i’m a psychiatrist.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I became one after I stopped being a surgeon.”

“How is it? I bet it must be hard.”

“It is. Some days are easier than others. But it’s like you said, I help people. That feels good.”

You move closer to his bed, your hand moving to grab his. Hannibal watches you tug his hand into yours. You look down at the bandages that cover his palm, slowly beginning to remove them. He observes the way you trace your finger over his stitches gently.

“You’re healing really well. I’ll probably be able to remove these in a couple days. How does your neck feel?”

The purple had faded but you could still see small marks where the rope had sunk into his skin.

“Is it still tender?”

You leaned over his body, your fingers moving across his throat. Hannibal lifted his head, giving you better access. From this angle he could see very little detail of your face. His breath seemed to give out for a moment, his mind entirely focused on your proximity to him. You turned your focus over to his face, your eyes meeting him. There was a deep gentleness in the way you gazed at him, it made him feel exposed. But not in a bad way. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. I apologize. I’m distracted.”

“It’s alright. I have to go but if you need anything just tell them to call me okay?”

“Alright. Thank you.”

A couple of days later Hannibal was finally released. You’d walked into his room expecting it to be empty but instead you found him standing near the window. You walked over to him, stopping beside him. He turned to look at you, observing as you watched the world outside for a moment before turning to face him.

“I must tell you that as much as I love your company we aren’t a hotel.”

Hannibal smiled at you, causing you to mirror his expression.

“I’m glad to leave this room. I couldn’t take the white walls anymore. Though I must admit I'm sad I will not be seeing you everyday.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You enjoyed your time with Hannibal immensely but you’d always thought that when he was healed your daily chats would come to a bitter end. Never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that he’d want to continue your contact outside of the hospital. 

“Would you join me for dinner? It’s been awhile since i’ve had a proper meal and i would love your company.” 

“I’d be delighted to. What restaurant did you have in mind?”

“Actually I was thinking I could do the cooking. It’s one of my passions you see. I’ve missed it just as I've missed having some real food.”

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you Dr Lecter?”

“You can’t even begin to imagine.”

He had been right about that. After your dinner you and Hannibal continued to keep in touch. With time your relationship grew into a friendship and soon enough you found yourself falling for the doctor. He wasn’t anything like you’d imagined him to be. He had a seemingly unlimited amount of knowledge that he was always eager to share with you. He’d have you over for dinner whenever he could, always enjoying the company and your fascination for his cooking. He’d come to your apartment from time to time, it had become a place where he could have a break from the hard days. You were always more than welcoming to him. And then one day he found himself sitting on your couch one evening, nursing a bottle of wine as the two of you listened to music. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, your legs resting on Hannibals. The only sound that could be heard was  of the music that played from your radio and your voice humming along to the tune. Hannibal took in the sight of you. Your eyes were closed, lips moving to form the lyrics of the song. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share a home with you. His feeling for you should have startled him, after all he’d only known you for a little while. But there was this sort of connection he seemed to share with you. He often wondered why of all the possible doctors that could have attended him that day at the hospital you had been the one to heal him. Perhaps it was a way of some greater force telling him you were the missing piece he’d been searching for. 

Your eyes opened slowly at the feeling of Hannibal's hand on your thigh. You gave him a lazy smile, shifting your body up.

“What is it?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened, heart hammering inside your chest at Hannibal's blatant confession. Perhaps it was the wine you’d been drinking or maybe it was the adoring way Hannibal was gazing at you but in a flash you crawled over to him placing a soft kiss to his lips. It was a slow kiss, tender and full of emotion. Hannibal cupped your cheek keeping your lips attached to his until he felt like he couldn't’ breath. You break the kiss, panting for air. A giggle escapes your lips as you look at Hannibal watching the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles.

“You’re so beautiful. Did you know?”

You flushed at Hannibal's words, head moving to look down at your legs. Hannibal placed his finger under your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, a blush littering your cheeks.

“No need to be shy, pretty girl. It’s just me.”

You didn’t know what had come over him but this Hannibal wasn’t one you were used to seeing. He seemed much less put together than usual. There was almost a homey quality to him. You lifted your body off the couch. Hannibal watched you stand his eyes gazing up at you curiously. You placed your hand out to him. He looked at your open palm for a moment before giving you his hand. You tugged him off the couch pulling him towards the hall.

“Where are you taking me dove?”

You turned to look at him with a sly grin, legs never stopping their movements.

“To my bedroom. Obviously.”

Hannibal was used to seeing you in a specific sort of light. Whenever you two would go out together you were always soft spoken and quiet, often opting to listen to him talk rather than initiating conversation. In the bedroom however you turned into a whole different person. 

Your pussy fluttered around his dick as he moved into you. Your head fell back on the pillow with a moan.

“Fuck you feel so good Hannibal.”

He moved slowly, trying his hardest to be as gentle as possible. He knew your body was starting to become sensitive after all the hours he’d put into teasing you. He’d made you cum on his tongue and fingers twice before allowing you to take him in your mouth. And after fucking your throat in such a rough pace that he'd managed to make tears well up in your eyes he wanted to show you he could be gentle too. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the skin of his ass.

“Hannibal deeper please i-ah ugh- want to feel you.”

“Shh dove, take it slow. Can’t have you tiring yourself out.”

Hannibal leaned down, his teeth finding the shell of your ear. You whimpered as he nibbled at the skin. Your fingers clawed at his bare back trying your hardest to make him move closer into you. You were insatiable for him. Completely at his mercy and he knew it. It's why he was taking things slow. Whispering sweet nothings to you and telling you how much of a good girl you were being to him. Every time he praised you he felt your pussy grip onto him like a vice. He enjoyed the feeling just as much as he enjoyed seeing you cum. But there were limits. And you were about to discover Hannibals.

In truth you didn't expect your words to affect him so much. It was more something that turned you on then something you thought he’d enjoy but the moment the words left your lips you knew you’d hit a nerve.

In the best way possible.

He was moving at a glacial pace and you just couldn't take it any longer. You grabbed his face pulling him into a rough kiss. You tugged at his bottom lip a smirk appearing on your features as he gazed at you in hunger.

“Want you to fill me up Hannibal. Want you to put a baby in me.”

That had been the tip of the iceberg. In a flash Hannibal had flipped you around his hand shoving your face into the pillow as he lined himself up with your entrance again. Your body jerked forward as he began to thrust into you. He was going so harshly you couldn’t help but grip at the sheets. Hannibal had, all of a sudden, become more vocal than he had been the entire night. 

“Feel so fucking good dear.”

His groans and grunts followed your screams of pleasure and pretty soon you were feeling your orgasm sneak up on you. Hannibal seemed to feel your need to cum his hand moving to grip at the flesh of your hips in an even harsher manner. He tugged you closer to his body, holding you still for a moment. He took in the feeling of your walls pulsating against him, his eyes closing.

“Hannibal please!”

How could he deny such a sweet thing like you? He couldn’t. So he started moving again, his free hand itching towards your clit. He maneuvered you in a way his tip could hit your g-spot perfectly and in a matter of seconds you were cumming around him. He continued to fuck into your body even as you sagged into the bed. You felt him twitch inside you before he came with a grunt of your name. 

After a while Hannibal pulled out of you, throwing his body next to yours. You lifted your head off the pillow to look at him observing his chest rise and fall rapidly as he tried to regain his breath. You shifted your body so that you were lying on your side, your legs angled in Hannibal's direction. He turned to look at you, giving you a smile before tugging you closer to him. He buried his noise in your hair taking in your scent. The two of you fell into easy slumber, both completely spent.

The next morning you woke up to a sweet smell. You rose for your bed tugging on a robe before making your way to the kitchen. You smiled as you caught sight of Hannibal. He was wearing your apron but his ass was completely on display for you. You walked over to him, giving him a sharp smack on the ass. He jumped at the action, turning to look at you. You simply grinned up at him.

“You cheeky thing.”

“You know you love it.”

He did in fact love it.

Actually, he loved everything about you.

“Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Yum. How can I help?”

“Grab the eggs from the fridge for me.”

“Okay.”

The two of you moved in perfect union as if things had always been like this. And perhaps they always would be.

[buckysmith]

MW2 characters reacting to you being hold hostage + how it happened

Includes: Ghost, König, Soap, Price, Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy, Gromsko, Laswell, Valeria and Graves

It was kinda hard to write the exact same topic for 11 people without repeating the same story and in the end I fucked it up but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways cause I wrote that shit for 7h+

I just hope it doesn’t flop again .-.

Word count around 10000.

Warning: hostage, mentions of dead, mentions of abuse (not heavily detailed but still a trigger)

Tell me if I have to add warnings

Ghost:

- He is an extremely cautious man, making sure no one knows where he lives to protect you.

- the only living people who know where he and you live are Price and Soap, since he knows they won't say anything even if they are being tortured

- Even your family doesn't know where you live, or rather they think they do, but they don't because the address is fake.

- but a small mistake can lead to a big problem, which in your case it did.

- Simon and you were walking together in the streets of London, but he could feel that something was off

- he didn't really want to go to London, but on your anniversary he wanted to do you a favor and go on a date like any other normal couple, spoiling you with things you like

- so you were on your way back to your car and like London is, it was crowded with a lot of people

- you could feel Simon getting more and more nervous because he sensed something was going to happen and then just a few feet away from you a car exploded causing the crowd you were in to panic

- Simon instinctively grabbed you and ran with you to your car, pushing the people running towards you away to make his way through the crowd

- but just before you could reach your car, he saw what was going on, that he was the target of the attack, because you were running straight ahead in a group of masked men.

- Simon who of course didn't have many weapons on him, only a Glock and a few knives knew that it looked bad for you to fight against heavily armed men

- he knew if he fought you would both die, so he didn't hesitate long and ran back into the crowd knowing there you would be at least a bit safer

- he pulled you by your wrist through the crowd, pushing the people who got in his way away to make room for you

- but after the masked men fired shots, the crowd just panicked even more

- he held your hand as tightly as he could, trying his best not to let go as the crowd tore you further and further apart

- the last thing he could see and hear of you before you were lost in the crowd were your frightened eyes and your voice calling out to him

- not even a second passed and he alerted Price who informed the team and laswell as well as the police and special forces in the area

- he immediately started looking for you, calling out you, trying to locate your cell phone, calling you, but you didn't answer

- all while forcing his way through the crowd in the direction he had lost you

- he tracked your cell phone signal, but only found your cell phone lying on the ground, smashed but still working

- he knew he couldn't panic now, but his blood was freezing, his heart started to stop in its rhythm

- he knew he could track you in another way, he had given you a necklace with a tracking device that even you didn't know about

- he followed the signal, running like a madman through the streets of London only to end up in an empty alley.

- the moment he picked up your necklace from the ground, saw the crimson liquid on it, was the moment his heart stopped

- it was the moment he realized that the target was not him, but you

- he stared at his necklace, time seemed to stop for him before he stood up and left the alley to make a single phone call

- days passed with no sign of you, Laswell and many other agents and elite soldiers in his debt searched for you

- he did not take any solid food during that time, he refused to eat and he drank almost nothing

- but his body did not weaken, only his spirit became more dangerous

- he blamed himself for your abduction, he cursed himself so much that he went with you to London

- days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, no sign of life from you made him slowly lose his will to live, his body became weaker and he destroyed himself more and more every day

- Soap and Price watched as their friend slowly fell apart, as he slowly became truly a ghost.

- at one point he was too weak to stand on his feet, but he resisted when anyone tried to help him

- be it to feed him or to help him to walk

- the moment he got a sign of life from you, or rather from the men who kidnapped you, Simon changed again

- the man who moments before had been too weak to keep himself on his feet became a more dangerous killing machine than he had ever been before

- whoever they were, they were about to pay a price

- and he wouldn't grant them the mercy of a fast death, he knew what he would do to them, the moment you're in his arms again.

- they would live for months, not that you could call that living, but well, they were still able to breath and feel everything. That's all I'll say about it.

Soap:

- Soap came back from his service a few days earlier than planned, so now you had a problem

- you were at a friend's in London, you were supposed to come back home two days later to pick him up

- but Soap assured you that it was no problem to spend the two days with your best friend, because you both saw each other quite rarely due to the distance or rather her and your job

- on the last day you both wanted to go shopping, some nice things to wear and maybe some other things you liked

- you then called soap, actually just to ask him if you should bring him this new video game he was talking about all the time

- but your conversation was quickly interrupted by two men with bomb vests and another man with assault rifles

- so the last shopping day turned into a hostage situation and you and your best friend were sitting together with many others in the middle of the building and in the middle was one of the assassins with the bomb

- it was just too stupid for the assassins that they didn't know who was among their hostages

- It didn't take Soap long to get from your home to London, not with his contacts.

- he also contacted his friends and teammates, Ghost, Price and gaz were also quickly in London.

- He had given you another cell phone in case of emergency, one which was not flashy but in such emergencies life saving

- but he didn't expect you to call him, and you more or less didn't really call him either

- he was the only number stored, so you just had to press a button dial his number.

- Soap didn't hesitate long and took his cell phone to the lead officer, because they had a view inside through the thermal imaging cameras, but no voice transmission and now they had thanks to you

- Soap knew how risky it was that you had called, but you had now helped the forces, especially with the identification that one of the bomb carriers was among the hostages.

- Soap could hear you and your girlfriend being yelled at, because you were whispering to your girlfriend beforehand so that the he and the other who were there to rescue you all knew where the other bomber was sitting.

- So while Soap was incredibly proud of your courage on the one hand, he was equally afraid for your life on the other

- he had been on so many missions like this, so many missions where he could have died, but none of them had ever made him feel this scared.

- it was only hours that you were trapped, but with every second That passed he knew that if something went wrong, he would lose you, killed him.

- the moment they stormed the building he had only one thought, he had to find you and get you safe and sound.

- it was only seconds in which he searched for you in the crowd, but for him those seconds felt like hours.

- For him, they were moments of uncertainty, because although they were sure that they could eliminate all the assassins with little trouble, they did not know if there were still hidden assassins among the hostages.

- The storming of the building was quick and the targets were also quickly taken out, but to soap's great fear, among the hostages there was actually someone with a bomb vest who remained unidentified, who blew himself up after his comrades were killed.

- the whole building shook, glass from windows and doors shot through the air like bullets that caused him to seek shelter for a few moments, in the seconds after that he disobeyed every order, he didn't care what would happen to his reputation or his job in the moments after the detonation

- it was all about you

- he called your name in panic, ran to the people killed by the explosion, or rather what was left of them.

- he knew where you and your best friend  had been sitting

- and that's where the bomber had exploded.

- in the first few seconds there was nothing in his head, he heard nothing, he smelled nothing, he felt nothing.

- there was just nothing

- he held his breath without realizing it, fell to his knees as his body collapsed as if it had been turned off.

- the moment he heard your voice, the moment he could sense quick footsteps and a movement, he directed his gaze in that direction

- the moment you wrapped your arms around his neck, threw yourself into his arms and kissed him. It was the moment when he understood that he was not dreaming, you were alive, you were in his arms

- it was only seconds when he thought you had died, but those seconds left deep scars in his soul.

- the day you almost died left for you only a scar on your cheek, but for him it left an order, a mission which he would not stop carrying out even after his death.

- he made sure that this would never happen again, that you were safe for the rest of your life.

- that was an oath he never broke.

Alejandro

- being in a relationship with Alejandro had its pitfalls

- but most of all it had many downsides

- he was rarely home, most of the time your relationship consisted of talking to each other on the phone over secure lines

- it wasn't like it was something new, because before you had a long distance relationship, but with your move to las Almas you thought you could see him more often since you were only a few miles apart now

- but no, he was too afraid to accidentally give away your location and put you in danger.

- his enemies were the cartel, the soldiers operating outside his unit and even his own people he didn't trust

- the only ones who knew of your location were Alejandro and Rudy.

- but seeing your husband in person only a few times a month, and then only for a few hours, caused strife between the two of you.

- you were as good as isolated from the whole outside world

- you had little contact with your family/friends

- Alejandro had moved the rest of his family elsewhere, but you didn't know where they lived and they didn't know where you lived.

- everything was a security measure, but after two years of almost complete isolation in a foreign country, you and Alejandro were always having fierce arguments

- most of the time it was over FaceTime, because as I said he didn't want anyone to know where you lived

- the phone call ended with you hanging up after he told you for the millionth time that he was doing it for your safety

- you knew that, you knew he was just worried but you were alone, you needed him with you!

- he usually didn't even stay over and slowly but surely you felt more like a prisoner than in a relationship

- you were homesick, you wanted to be with your family/friends and the comfort they gave you

- the feeling of security he couldn't give you anymore for a long time

- you loved him, but you couldn't go on like this and he couldn't give up the life he was leading

- it didn't take long for you to pack a suitcase to fly home to your parents/friends, you knew you were welcome at any time

- but on the way to the airport you came into a military checkpoint

- but it was not a normal check in which the military took unnecessary money out of your pocket for any violations, no,  they were looking for you

- they had got the order from the las Almas cartel, which you did not know of course

- because your last conversation was intercepted, they were able to find out your name from your voice and therefore knew who you were and above all they knew where you were.

- Alejandro found out only a few hours later, he had called you again and again, but since you had left your cell phone at home, he had no reason to worry.

- he thought that you were just mad and that you were going to give him the silent treatment, something you had never done before, but he had been in many relationships before where his partner reacted like that after a fight.

- however he wanted to discuss the problem in person, he knew you were hurt and he wanted to make it up to you somehow

- but when he got home there was no trace of you, your cell phone was there, but your car and suitcase were missing along with about four thousand dollars you had put aside in case of emergency

- he immediately informed Rudy and gave him your license plate number so that they could trace your location

- but there weren't exactly a lot of surveillance cameras in las Almas.

- but your license plate was caught by one of them and you seemed to be on your way to the airport, so he went on his way as well

- but your car suddenly disappeared and didn't show up again on the next camera like it had should

- he found your car but without you

- your car was in a ditch and it looked like you were deliberately pushed off the road

- he knew the moment he saw your car that you had fallen victim to the cartel

- the first few minutes after he found your car he called Rudy who called the rest of his team

- He knew he had to find you quickly

- He tried to contain his fear, but it didn't work.

- On the way back to the base his hands were shaking so badly that he could barely control his vehicle.

- he could feel his heart beating in his chest and hear the blood rushing in his ears

- when he arrived at the base all color was gone from his face

- he was so incredibly afraid for you, so much so that he had to throw up again and again

- while his body was rebelling against him, his emotions were boiling up, he was aggressive and tearful at the same time

- he tried everything to find out where you were

- after hours of searching, your captors came forward to present their trophy, you, to him.

- They knew how to use leverage to get what they wanted.

- but Alejandro still had a favor left with Laswell, so it didn't take long to get you to safety.

- but in the hours when your fate was uncertain, in the hours when he didn't know if he would ever see you alive again, a small part of him died

- he regretted every second of arguing with you, but not visiting often enough, because in the end it had caused to happen what he had tried to protect you from

- he was the reason for your abduction, for every hair that was cut in those hours

- he and his men stormed the building where you were being held and the moment he could wrap his arms around you, smell your scent and feel the warmth of your body was the moment he realized that moving away from you to protect you was not protecting you but separating you from each other

- that he was the reason

- from that day on, there was not another day that you could not see him

- he was always with you and from that moment on you were the safest you have ever been

- as safe as you have never been before

- the kidnapping was the best thing that could have happened to you and him

Rudy:

(Short info, I know the backstory would have fit well to Alejandro, but Rudy was the one who wasn't captured by Graves and his men and so I thought this could fit well to Rudy)

- you had heard that your husband was now working with people from the U.S. and the U.K. to fight the cartel and locate some  missiles

- you knew that this information was actually top secret and you weren't supposed to know anything about it, but your husband told you everything and you preferred him to talk about it than to keep it inside and  it being a burden to him

- you knew that the boys were coming back in the evening and it was important to you that they had enough to eat, of course you couldn't cook for over a hundred men by yourself but together with the help of Alejandro's partner, Rudy's mother and some other women and men you could cook enough food to feed them all

- so after you loaded all the food into the pickup you drove to the base

- What you didn't know was that the base had been taken over by the American, who imprisoned los vaqueros and plunged Las Almas into a bloodbath.

- Rudy had called so many times but the line was dead which you didn't notice because you only used your cell phone to listen to music and this was possible without line.

- since you all came outside of las Almas, you didn't notice anything   until you were stopped with the car at the entrance of the base, while your identity was checked by an American and after that you were not nicely brought  to Graves

- Graves of course immediately recognized the value you had as a hostage, after all he had the leader of the vaqueros and the partner of the second leader.

- He knew that if the worst came to the worst, you would be his life insurance.

- Rudy, meanwhile, was getting more and more panicky by the second, and instead of going straight to the safehouse, he drove to your house.

- he knew that if you were not at home, you had probably gone to the base

- he was not panic, no you could not describe his feelings like that

- he was incredibly calm on the way to the safehouse, he didn't know if Ghost and Soap were alive, he knew you were probably in Graves' captivity and he didn't know if Alejandro was alive.

- Every person he trusted was either gone or in captivity and he had to keep a clear head right now.

- but it just didn't work, he couldn't cry and  he didn't shake either.

- he was paralyzed and his head worked like in energy saving mode

- until the moment when Alejandro was with him again.

- that was the moment when he broke down, sobbed, poured out his heart to Alejandro and let him know how unbelievably scared he was for you

- that he would never forgive himself if something happened to you, that it was all his fault, and much more.

- from that point on he couldn't stop shaking, sobbing and hyperventilating

- he knew Graves would use you as leverage if a situation arose where he was in danger of losing his life, which only worried Rudy more

- He knew he would lay down his life for you if it came to that.

- yet when Graves tried to escape with you, you managed to get away from him and escape while the Ghost Team stormed the base

- you broke your arm and sustained wounds that would later become scars

- every single scar from that day reminds Rudy that he failed as your husband

- but it was the only time in your life with him that you were in danger, because after that he made sure that it would never happen again and you were safe

- he never forgot the feelings he had while you were in danger and that's why he taught you all kinds of defenses and how to handle a gun

Price :

- in a job like your husband's, there were unplanned incidents more often than you would have liked

- sometimes he didn't come home for months, sometimes he was only home for a few days before he was needed somewhere in the world so the world wouldn't end

- it was hard for your relationship and it ruined all plans for vacations or just to be together every time again and again

- and it was one of those days again, he had just come home from a mission, hadn't even had the chance to unpack his stuff and was needed again immediately

- it was useless to ask him to stay with you, so you let him go again after you had said your goodbyes

- he had promised you to take vacation, that this time nothing would come between your trip, the trip you had planned and looked forward to for so long

- this trip was supposed to replace your honeymoon because you couldn't take it after your wedding because of his job

- but the trip was booked, all paid for and you had taken the time off

- you had done your research and could only move the trip somewhere else and not cancel it without losing all your money or reschedule the time for the trip

- you knew he would not be back in time, so you told your best friend to pack her bags so that the two of you could go on vacation instead of you and Price

- together with your best friend you decided to change your trip to another country, both of you going to Cairo Egypt

- your best friend always had something to do with pyramids and the ancient egyptians and you also found them quite interesting

- but you were more interested in today's culture

- of course you told your husband beforehand to ask him for permission

- he agreed that you should go with your girlfriend, but he was worried about the choice of country you had made

- but you told him that Egypt is a relatively safe country and nothing would happen to you

- he had a bad feeling though and asked you to move the trip somewhere else, which you refused to do

- your best friend knew the country, culture and language better than anyone, you knew you were safe with her and that he was overreacting.

- however, this led to an argument, he insisted that you move the trip elsewhere and you vehemently refused

- he wanted to continue arguing with you but your argument was interrupted by Soap who told Price there was an emergency

- you could hear him sending Soap away again and this time telling you rather rudely not to make the trip

- that was the last thing you heard before the connection was lost and you were sure he had hung up on you

- you didn't know that the connection was lost do to the emergency which was an attack

- during the argument you thought about giving in, trusting his feeling but after he yelled at you you didn't want to give in out of pure pettiness and went on the trip with your best friend

- the first days were wonderful, the hotel you lived in was fortunately well air conditioned as you could hardly stand the stinging heat, the people were nice and the food was delicious

- Price didn't contact you during the days and while part of you was worried about your husband, you knew that if you didn't hear from Laswell he was in good health and just wouldn't talk to you, and you, definitely wouldn't give in and talk first!

- he knew you were fine, at least you thought he did, since you were in constant contact with Laswell and her wife.

- they were as much a part of Price and his family as you, Soap, Ghost, gaz and his pets. It was an all or nothing deal

- with Laswell's wife you were also in contact every day, sending her pictures from your vacation, what you were doing and the great food.

- but all good things come to an end, in your case it was "wrong time, wrong place".

- your best friend and you got lost

- How did you know? There were no other tourists around, not a single one.

- you knew instinctively that you had to find a way back very quickly, but it was already too late and you ran into a group of criminals

- you recognized the mark they wore on their bodies, t your husband had told you about the group but they were supposed to be in Russia, not here!

- he had already dealt with the people several times, each time it ended in a bloodbath on both sides

- so you grabbed your best friend by the arm, dragged her through the winding streets while dialing Price's number, which only went to voicemail, you called Laswell, but she didn't answer her cell phone either, so the last thing you wanted to do was call Laswell's wife, but it was too late and you were trapped

- the last thing you felt was a strong hit on your head before everything went black

- It was Laswell's wife who noticed your absence.

- You hadn't sent her any pictures or texts for four days, which was unusual for you.

- she asked Laswell if she knew anything about you, to which she only responded that you had called her four days ago but had not contacted her again

- Laswell didn't think anything of it, she thought that you had probably called her unintentionally, but with the information that you hadn't given any sign of life for four days was something that worried her.

- even more when Price also contacted her saying that he couldn't reach you in days after you called him.

- she tried to track your cell phone, but it was either off or the battery was dead

- the last trace showed that you hadn't moved from one spot in two days before your phone died

- she knew something was wrong, so she immediately alerted Price while sending one of her men stationed in Cairo to your last location

- When Price learned that you had not ignored him but had disappeared, he panicked.

- he knew the mission he was on was important and that his presence probably made the difference between defeat and victory, yet you were gone, in a foreign country after he asked you to go there

- he let another captain replace him, he knew his boys together with him would accomplish the mission and immediately set off to Cairo

- but he knew that he was not allowed to be there officially, so he entered as a normal human being

- he looked calm to everyone else, but if you were there you would immediately see how incredibly upset he was

- you were the only person who could see behind his facade

- he was unbelievably afraid for you, he couldn't drink, nor eat, everything he tried to get into him came up again faster than he had forced it down his throat

- he couldn't even enjoy his beloved cigars anymore, just the thought of smoking one made him throw up

- days went by, days he didn't sleep, days he didn't eat, days he drank almost nothing but scotch

- deep circles had formed under his eyes and the worry about you made him very angry

- after almost a week Ghost, Gaz and Soap also came to Cairo to support their captain who was more a ghost of his former self

- it took another two days but then they found you, it had been a total of two weeks since your abduction and you were starting to give up

- they didn't do anything to you after they found out who you were

- one of the men had recognized Price's face on your background and from there on it was easy for them

- they were also recently in contact with Price, negotiating the price for you and your best friend, but you didn't know that

- threatened to do something to you that would only make Price angrier.

- but Laswell was able to use it to get a location on you.

- it was a night in fog action in which they asked Price not to participate because those 10 days of living on nothing but alcohol and pure caffeine had weakened him considerably

- but he insisted.

- he had never been so nervous on a mission as he was on this one, he could hear his heart beating in his chest while his blood was literally boiling

- he didn't know if you were still alive, he didn't know what they had done to you, he knew nothing and couldn't control the situation, he couldn't prepare himself for what he might see.

- the operation was quick, the kidnappers didn't expect to be found out.

- 141 and several other soldiers searched the house and when Price found a locked door, after having shot a man with a gun only a few feet away, he opened it and through the sparse light recognized a person lying on the floor only a few feet away from him, he could also see that there was a pool of blood around them.

- his heart stopped at that moment, he didn't want to get closer to see who this person was, he didn't want to know if it was you... it just couldn't be you!

- he stepped like in slow motion towards the person lying on the floor, his whole body was shaking and he could feel the feeling of throwing up

- at the moment when he knelt down to turn the person and to catch a look into their face, he received an extremely strong hit on the head which made him see black for a fraction of a moment

- but his body reacted out of reflex, he turned and skillfully pressed the person who had attacked him to the ground and squeezed their throat.

- when he regained his sight he realized who he was choking and also the person who had attacked him realized who he was

- his eyes filled with tears while he let go of you and kissed you

-despite the sparse light he could see that you had been beaten, that you were hurt but you were alive

- a wave of relief came over him and you as you both began to sob

- he was relieved that you were alive and you were relieved to see him, that he had come and that this hell had now ended

- you were too weak to walk on your own when the relief came over your body, two weeks without food and only little water in an extreme heat had left its mark, not to mention the psychological stress and the wound on your shoulder

- your best friend had not survived, you both had been shot at, but only she had been killed while you were only wounded

- you pretended to be dead as well, and because of the panic they had, they didn't realize that you were still alive.

- you didn't know if the men would come back, but you knew you had to escape at the next opportunity

- not a day went by from then on that you didn't listen to him and for him not a day went by that he didn't regret yelling at you

- he thought he was to blame, while you also thought you were to blame for everything

- but basically it was just "in the wrong place, at the wrong time..."

Gaz:

(Im going to take gaz first appearance in MW2019 as my "guide")

-you and your boyfriend gaz live just outside London, you had moved in with him and left your old life behind you

- you had met Gaz by chance, or rather it was an accident

- you accidentally drove into his car when you were on vacation in London, you were wearing the worst outfit you could imagine and he, well he looked great.

- you were extremely uncomfortable and to this day he made a bit of fun of it, even though he was to blame for the accident

- you two got on well from day one though and friendship turned into love and now you were here in London

- gaz had been tense for a long time, but he was not allowed to tell you what was going on

- but you could imagine what it was and of course you tried to give your boyfriend some kind of comfort

- it was your day off, which calmed gaz down because he knew you wouldn't be near where his assignment was

- he couldn't tell you about it, so he kept quiet about it.

- but shortly after he left for work you got a call from your boss, she told you that one of your colleagues had dropped out and they needed you

- since you got along very well with your boss and the store became like a second family you of course agreed and left immediately

- you knew you would be there just before the shift started and since the shift would start at six pm anyway you thought you would write to your boyfriend just before you got there

- so you texted him at 5:50 pm (1750military time) that you would be home around 10 pm because you had to work spontaneously and would bring take away from your favorite restaurant

- gaz got the message while he was sitting in the car, he knew he wasn't supposed to look but usually you only wrote when something was going on or you wanted to know something

- when he read the message that you were at work, in the area where he now had a job, he completely freaked out, called you but you had your cell phone on silent and since the store was so busy you didn't even notice he was calling

- after that everything went wrong, there was so much shooting, people blew themselves up and so many injured and dead within a few minutes

- and this bloodbath led to the very store where you work.

- the feeling of throwing up was getting stronger by every minute and he started shaking without wanting to, he didn't know how you were and if you could get out in time

- when a man named Captain Price appeared, he followed him while he tried to calm down

- there were many people tied up between a man with a bomb vest which exploded only a few seconds after he and captain price arrived

- as gaz helped Price free the people he recognized one of your colleagues, he immediately asked her where you were, if you had escaped, but she tearfully told him that they had taken you.

- That was the moment when his heart stopped.

- you had been captured...

- at the moment when price and he and the hostages left the building, a live broadcast of the assassins was shown on the big advertising boards

- with you in their midst, wearing a bomb vest, at an unknown location.

- He immediately told Price that you were his partner, that he would do anything to free you and so much more.

- he could barely think straight, his heart ached while his stomach churned and he felt dizzy.

- it took them an hour to get your location

- an hour in which he threw up countless times and still tried to be strong for you

- he stormed the building with Price and his own team, killing anyone who got in his way while calling your name before finally finding you

- but the countdown ticked on and on

- when gaz finally got to you he tried to be as strong as he could but it tore his heart out to see your eyes filled with tears

- he knew how scared you were

- There were only a few minutes left before the vest would explode and Price told him to go, the experts said there was no chance and that the vest was too complicated to disarm in time.

- Price knew from the little time he knew gaz now that he would not leave you alone, wished him good luck and they both left the area as quickly as they could while

- it was only a minute before the vest would explode.

- he cursed himself for not being there while you tried to calm him down

- A second before the vest exploded, he grabbed all the wires in sight while pressing his lips onto yours, only to rip off all the wires in one go.

- and instead of you exploding nothing happened

- gaz had somehow managed to disarm the vest

- it was the moment when he started crying with relief, just like you did

- from that day on he made sure nothing like that would ever happen to you again

- he made enough after he joined 141 for you to stay home.

- but he supported you when you started an online business so he didn't have to be the bread winner

- but now you were safe, safe from all evil, safe from enemies, safe from anything that would harm you

Graves

- being in a relationship with graves was not always easy

- you two could not see each other often and for a long time, something that was difficult for both of you

- phillip, who was so much more gentle and loving in private than he was on the job, was incredibly homesick and lovesick for you

- it was just hard for him to be away from you for a long time, so he tried his best to somehow bridge the distances between you without putting you in danger

- he talked to you on the phone as often as he could, always had a picture of you with him in which your face was hidden but which he would often look at when he missed you too much

- it was a picture of the two of you lying in a hospital bed, your face buried against his neck while he had an arm around your torso

- his mother had taken the picture when she visited her son in the hospital after he was badly injured in battle

- during the weeks he was in the hospital you lived there as well and when he was finally able to go home you took care of him even though he assured you he was fine

- the picture showed him so much, it showed him that he had someone worth fighting for, worth coming home for, worth living for.

- he knew that with you he had found the partner for life and you both would go through thick and thin until the end

- the two of you were enjoying a bath together when the call from Shepard came forcing him to leave immediately

- your heart ached as your husband had just come home and already he had to leave again

- he didn't want to go either, but he knew he couldn't refuse an assignment and left after you said your goodbyes

- only a few days after your husband left you got a call from your best friend who lived in las Almas and was very pregnant

- since you had promised to be with her when she had her baby, you quickly packed the things that seemed important to you, the copy of the picture that Phillip was carrying with him

- las Almas was only a few hours away from the farm where you lived with Graves and more or less his family

- since your in-laws lived only three minutes away by car and it was on your way anyway, you personally told them that you were going to las Almas to assist your best friend in the birth of her first child

- on the way you wanted to tell phillip, but from then on something kept coming up and before you knew it you were already in las Almas

- your best friend her parents were actually from las Almas but moved to the USA before your best friend was born to give their daughter a better life there

- but apart from her parents all her relatives were in las Almas so after she met her boyfriend who was a policeman in las Almas she went back home without her parents

- her parents begged her not to go, but your best friend was much too stubborn to listen to them

- you were warmly welcomed by her new family and the birth went quite easily, both of you joking around while she almost broke your and her boyfriend's hand

- but the birth of the child went quite well and fast and you were able to go back to her house around late noon

- you helped your best friend with her baby while the others celebrated the birth of the child

- but in the evening the mood changed, it started storming

- the city became louder, at the beginning your friend joked that many babies must have been born today, but the sounds that had sounded positive before became screams and the sound of gunshots echoed from the houses

- not even half an hour passed, when armed and masked soldiers stormed the building in which you were located

- you reacted instinctively, grabbed the hand of your friend who had her baby in her arms and pulled her down from the sofa and towards the second exit

- you could hear screams behind you, then gunshots which silenced the screams

- but your friend collapsed after only a few houses, she was too weak to run as she got shot leaving the house

- she gave you her baby, told you to get her baby to safety before she sent you away

- the last thing you could hear was a gunshot and a dull sound, the sound of her body hitting the ground

- While you were on the run, Graves wondered why you didn't answer him.

- he called you several times, because normally you had texted him at least five times by now, but you didn't answer the phone

- you tried your best to get through the streets unnoticed, but the baby woke up after a shot was fired at close range

- you tried everything to silence the baby in your arms, but it was already too late and the masked men pulled you out of your hiding place, almost threw you to the ground and you barely managed to support the baby and yourself

- but you recognized the uniform of the men when you were forced next to the Mexican policemen

- they were your husband's men!

- you tried to explain to them who you were, that you wanted to talk to Phillip but one of the men just kicked you in the face

- everything went black and you lost consciousness for a few seconds

- when you woke up they had already killed the men next to you and you were also holding the gun to your head while you begged them to inform Phillip Graves, your husband

- you heard a gunshot, then another and a third and the sound of three bodies falling to the floor

- Your vision was blurry, but you recognized the man in front of you, it was Ghost. You had seen him before, years ago, when Graves talked to you on video.

- a few minutes later Graves was standing in front of his killed men, but something next to the killed policemen caught his eye

- he grabbed the something that was already full of blood and looked with pure panic at what he had just picked up

- it was the picture of him and you, but it couldn't be! The picture was still in his pocket so how...?

- pure panic flowed through his body as he reached for his phone and called you again, praying to God that you would answer the phone and he would hear your voice

- but you did not answer

- his heart stopped for a moment when he called his parents and they told him you were in las Almas, the town where he had made a bloodbath on Shephard's orders

- where his men killed everyone who got in their way.

- he then disobeyed the general's order, told his shadows not to kill anyone and to look for you before giving them a description of you

- but he didn't calm down, even though the danger of you being killed by a shadow was now zero, Ghost who knew what you looked like was running around, not to mention the men and women of the Cartel

- while they were looking everywhere for you, you went with the injured Soap, Ghost and the baby to the safehouse of a guy named Alejandro.

- Ghost and Soap told you that you were now a prisoner of theirs, since Graves had betrayed them, but you didn't care.

- You had barely survived and probably would have died without Ghost's help.

- but you also didn't want to accept what your husband had done, but you had seen it with your own eyes and couldn't deny it.

- The men who held you captive were nice considering who you were or rather who your husband was

- You begged the man named Captain Price not to kill your husband, that there had to be another way and you would do anything to keep them from harming him.

- Graves found out they had you just minutes after Price called Shepherd.

- that was the moment Graves broke completely, on the one hand he couldn't and shouldn't refuse the orders, on the other hand they had you in their grasp

- It killed him, drove him crazy knowing you were in danger.

- Price brought you into the field and Graves could see you through his scope, Price gave him an ultimatum, Graves would surrender voluntarily with his shadows and you would live if not, you would die.

- but when you collapsed next to Price after a bullet pierced you, Price fled and Graves reloaded.

- he knew there was no turning back as he looked at your body lying virtually lifeless on the sandy ground with blood pouring out of it

- you woke up later in a hospital, the bullet had hit you but not killed you, just knocked you out.

- you later learned that Graves had not surrendered, died in an explosion, and within twenty-four hours you had lost your husband and best friend

- the baby your friend had entrusted to you was taken to her still living grandparents and Phillip's parents visited you every day in the hospital

- you felt alone nonetheless, you had put your wedding ring on the side table and most of the time you were just lying around

- after one week in the hospital you discharged against the advice of your doctors

- the first night back in your home two arms wrapped around your body and the familiar smell of a certain person rose in your nose while you tried to enjoy your hot shower

- it was his raspy voice that sent a shiver down your spine

- he would make sure that no one would ever lay a hand on you again and he would stand up for his mistakes, at least to you.

- it was on you to choose between stay or go

Valeria

- being in a relationship with Valeria was everything but easy

- she gave you everything you wanted, but there was one thing she couldn't give you and that was your freedom

- she kept you behind closed bars and you lived in a golden cage, but living isolated and not being able to leave the house gnawed at your mental health

- the fact that sometimes she would just disappear for weeks and then reappear didn't make the situation any better

- you could see Almas from the villa you were living in and despite begging her to go with you to the village  over and over again she never allowed it

- but you had enough of it, she always left you behind and after years of isolation you couldn't take it anymore, you finally wanted to see something different!

- there was a "party", most of the people were wearing masks and after you grabbed a mask as well as some clothes of the servants you left the building together with some servants who had a shift change

- you didn't want to leave her, you just wanted to see something different for once

- but Valeria was on Alejandro's radar since she was captured years ago and they found out that you were her partner.

- you walked happily through the streets, oblivious to the men and women following you.

- however, it wasn't long before you reached a corner where they chloroformed you and took you to a van

- Valeria, meanwhile, did not notice that you had disappeared until after her  conversation with some other evil men, because you were neither at the pool, nor in your room, nor anywhere else in the villa.

- Panic coursed through every vein of her body as she yelled at her men to find out where you were.

- when she checked the security cameras and saw you undressing and throwing yourself into the servants' clothes to leave the mansion unseen, the panic was joined by pure rage

- she immediately unleashed her men to search for you while she thought of how she would punish you for what you had done

- she was informed about an hour after she realized you had disappeared that the dogs had lost track of you and that you had probably been abducted

- she knew instantly who you had been kidnapped by

- the anger she felt towards you turned into pure fear, she knew what Alejandro and Rudy were capable of

- but she was from the cartel that ruled the city and she also had her contacts in Alejandro's elite squad.

- she knew a direct attack would end in a bloodbath, but she knew if she waited too long and Alejandro tried to get information out of you, she could never forgive herself for that

- she knew what a monster Alejandro was, she knew what he would do to get information that you didn't have, but she also knew that he wouldn't believe you.

- At the end of the day, he was as brutal  as she was.

- the longer you were under Alejandro's control, the stronger her hatred, her rage, and the more dangerous she became.

- she was there in person when she tried to save you, it was her job as your partner to save you.

- the way in was easier than expected, although it ended in a bloodbath on both sides

- but the moment she saw you again, the moment she knew you were now as good as safe, her feelings cooled down

- she had learned from her mistake to lock you up and keep taking you to new places, outside of Mexico, so at least you could see the world and she could make sure you would never be kidnapped again and that you were happy

- but also you had learned never to run away again, her punishment was anything but funny and yet so much more gentle than like all the others. Thankfully

König

- you were visiting a friend while your husband was away somewhere in the world doing his mission

- you hadn't heard from him for days, which was usual but you were worried, but you knew if you didn't hear from him it meant he was alive and well

- it was the idea of one of your friends you were visiting to go to a party of someone she knew

- you texted your husband of course, informing him that you were going to a party and write him as soon as you were on your way back.

- it was a really great party, the music was great, the appetizers which were offered were delicious and all in all it was a great night

- but only until you saw a familiar face, it was one of the guys your husband had been chasing and this one was supposed to be dead

- you knew it was a dangerous mafia boss from the documents of which you were not allowed to know anything

- but you knew you couldn't let your panic show

- you went to your friends, told them you were not feeling well and you would like to leave

- but they insisted that you stay and just rest, since after all their friend was throwing the party

- a bitter taste spreads in your mouth when said host came to you, asked if everything was fine and your friends said that you were not fine

- without you wanting it the host and mafia boss then took you to a quieter room where he tried to make a pass at you

- but before it could come to more he was interrupted by a smoke gas

- everything went fast, you got something taped to your mouth before a bag was pulled over your head and you were tied up

- you didn't know how much time had passed, you didn't know where you were what would happen to you now, the only thing you knew was that you were in danger

- König meanwhile waited for your message while he drove with his colleagues and the prisoners to a safe house

- but your message didn't come, you didn't answer his calls either and your cell phone was off

- he knew you wouldn't cheat on him, he also knew you always kept your promises and yet you were gone

- he could clearly feel the coming panic attack, whereupon he started to take his weapons apart and put it together again to distract himself somehow

- in his head all the scenarios were playing out, from you being bottled up, lying unconscious somewhere, being kidnapped, every scenario you could think of was playing out in his head

- hours went by, he didn't have the numbers of your friends and he had no other way to contact you

- the car you were in stopped at some point and you could feel someone grab you roughly, pull you to your feet and take you somewhere.

- you could only hear what was happening around you, fear flowed through you and you prayed that your husband had already found out that you had been kidnapped

- you were forced to the cold floor, sitting on your knees while you listened to the mafia guy being asked the same questions over and over again, you could hear blows and groans of pain from him.

- you could hear them breaking his bones, knocking out his teeth and smelling burned skin

- after a while one of the men seemed to have had enough and you could feel the barrel of a gun against your head

- it was the moment he raised his voice and threatened the mafia guy to kill you if he didn't finally speak up that you started to fight back

- it wasn't the threat to kill you, no, it was the voice you recognized

- only a few seconds after you tried to stand up your husband kicked you in the ribs

- but it also loosened the tape on your mouth, so you immediately called out his name

- the look on your face when the sack was pulled off your head and you looked into your husband's masked face, you couldn't help but weep

- you were almost abused, then kidnapped and your husband broke your ribs without knowing it

- you knew after that day you had many friends less and enough partying for the rest of your life

- and he, he felt guilty for that day for the rest of his life. Great success

Gromsko:

- it had its advantages to live somewhere in the countryside in Poland

- there were not many neighbors, those who did lived quite a distance away and otherwise it was quiet and of course safe

- your husband had many enemies, many very powerful enemies, which is why he hid you somewhere in the countryside

- you both had daily contact, be it only a sms but he wanted to make sure you were ok

- but everything peaceful had an end

- They had found out where Gromsko lived, but they did not know that he was married.

- so it was a surprise for the assassins who were after Gromsko to find you instead of him

- they knew that they could use you as a bait to get to Gromsko and he quickly realized that something was wrong, precisely because you did not answer him anymore

- he sent a friend to you, who informed him that you had probably been kidnapped

- the kidnappers were not the smartest, you quickly realized

- while Gromsko together with some old friends tracked you down, you made life difficult for your kidnappers and annoyed the hell out of em to get a waterbottle

- Gromsko, who was usually calm in person, was agitated and everyone could feel how dangerous he was becoming with each passing minute.

- he was worried about you, panic was an understatement and the hatred he felt for your kidnappers was boundless

- but also self-hatred, after all you had come into this situation because of him

- when he found out where you were being held he set out with some of his old colleagues to rescue you

- everything happened quite fast, the kidnappers did not expect that they would be found

- Gromsko was looking for you when he entered a room which looked like a cell

- you were already waiting for someone to come into your cell, and you hit the person on the head with the glass bottle you had been given

- the person you headbutted, however, grabbed you and pushed you against the nearest wall, while squeezing your throat

- you noticed who it was at the same time and he did, and he immediately let go of you, apologized for hurting you and teased you for hitting him with a bottle

- you moved to the city and got a dog to defend you when he was at work

- he never let you out of sight again, not that you knew, everyone had it’s little secrets after all

Laswell

- your wife was not always easy, especially her paranoia was not and it was a reason for many fights between you

- you knew the USA was not the safest country in the world, but you lived in a good area, hardly any crime and a nice neighborhood

- but for her no place was safe enough and she insisted that you carry a small device that would notify her if you were in big trouble

- you thought it was over the top but what wouldn't you do to make your wife happy

- and besides, she was really scary when she was angry.

- you had something to do at the bank and Kate asked you if she should come with you on her day off but you refused, after all you wanted to go shopping and get something special for her afterwards

- you were at the counter of the bank when armed men stormed the bank and you instinctively reached for the small device and pressed it

- when Kate was informed by phone that you had pressed the panic button, she didn't hesitate for a second to see where you were.

- almost at the same time the sports show she was watching changed to a news bulletin that the bank you were in was being robbed and was now being held hostage

- she didn't want to let it show as she called her friends at the CIA, but no one had ever seen her like this before

- 141 who were also nearby due to a mission, were also informed by her

- while she seemed to everyone to be in a bad mood and aggressive, Price could see the incredible amount of fear in her eyes

- he knew she would not admit it, but as it took longer and longer to get an overview of the situation she began to tremble more and more

- this only stopped when Price along with his team and a few others killed the men and got you safe and sound to your wife

- I guess it wasn't such a bad thing to have a paranoid wife after all.

[writing-house-of-m]

Till death do us part.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, and some Angst

Warnings: Talks of death, blood and vomiting.

Word count: 7179

Summary: It was a joint decision between you and Wanda wanting to raise your family together full time. There is just one last mission before you retire.

A/N: Who do I think I am, posting three weeks in a row 😂 This one has been a long time coming. I was given the prompt (a long time ago) “She wakes to the sound of you dying.” by @cuinaminute229 - I finally completed it mate! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think 😊

The three of you are running through the halls. You don't know how but an alarm was triggered and now you want to make it out of the building before a fight starts.

Too late.

Turning the next corner you are met with five guards all equipped to take you down.

This is not what you wanted.

The plan was so meticulously thought out, you allowed yourself to be optimistic, that this mission could be done without a hitch, but you should have known. Better to keep expectations low, right?

You can only hope they haven't found out about the support you have outside the building.

Tony, Sam, Vision and Wanda.

Two days ago

"Y/l/n, you're with Rogers and Romanoff."

You look up from the file on the table in front of you to the man holding the meeting feeling slightly perplexed.

"But sir, I'm normally partnered with Wanda because of how well we work together," you blurt out, before you can stop yourself.

"I know, but we need Wanda outside where her powers will be useful while the three of you get the job done inside," the man with the eyepatch clarifies.

You grimace slightly and it doesn't go unnoticed by Fury. So he continues, "I know you like spending time with your wife, agent, but you will have to spend a few hours away from each other this time," he finishes, getting a few chuckles from around the table.

You smile and nod your head to show you have acknowledged him. It is not your fault, you can't help but worry about your wife.

"How about Pietro? Where is he? He'd be perfect for this with his speed," you try to reason.

Fury is still smirking from his previous joke and keeps it going for his audience like this meeting is his very own stand-up comedy set, "Throwing the brother-in-law under the bus isn't going to work," causing another round of chuckles. "His skills are being used elsewhere," he finally clarifies.

Wanda notices your reluctance next to you. She takes your hand from the file to hold in her lap under the table for the rest of the meeting. The weight of her hand and the occasional squeeze she gives it brings you a semblance of calm.

After the meeting is over and everyone leaves to get prepped for the upcoming mission, Wanda speaks to you to reassure that everything will be ok. She has a soft smile on her face, "We've been apart in missions before, we'll get it done and be on our way home in no time."

Her hand still hasn't left yours since she took it earlier. You take a step forward leaning your forehead against hers while taking her other hand in yours, "I can't help but worry, it feels different this time."

You know she can take care of herself but you didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't by her side right now. This mission feels as though it has come at the worst time.

Present day

Taking out the five guards was easy work for the three of you.

Turns out they were just a warm up.

When you make it outside, you see Tony disarming someone who had a missile launcher aimed in Vision's direction. Vision throws two guys into the air that Sam finishes off as he flies past and Wanda, you can't see her, but you can see the red tendrils of her powers meaning she too, was engaged in combat.

After your quick assessment of the area the three of you spring back into action.

The base is in the middle of a forest deep underground. It's the reason the plans were so detailed, Hydra would have seen you coming from a mile away.

Hiding and manoeuvring behind and around trees you do what you are best at - taking down the enemy.

With Natasha by your side, watching each other's backs, you take down a few soldiers next to what looks like a turret. It is shooting out energy blasts to try and knock you unconscious so you can then be taken as prisoners. Once the area is clear you take over the controls using it to take out a similar one on the opposite side of the battlefield.

The machine makes it easy to take down bad guys while you do your best to avoid your teammates. For you this is just another 'day at the office' so your mind drifts to your home life.

Three months ago

Stirring awake you rub the sleep from your eyes. The warmth from your two bodies encased by your covers provide you with enough comfort to make you want to fall back into slumber.

You are about to nod off again when her soft whisper brings you back to reality, "You better not be going back to sleep," Wanda says, her warm breath that smells of toothpaste fans over your face making you smile silly.

"Of course not love," you lie, "I was just thinking about all the things you needed me to do around the house."

You hear her chuckle, "Oh, I'm sure you were." She pushes your shoulder so that you roll on to your back. Wanda presses most of her weight on top of you, stroking your cheek.

With your eyes still closed she places a few soft kisses along your neck and jaw. "Hmm...I could get used to this," you crack open one eye slightly, "but you missed a spot," you say, pointing to your lips.

"Uh uh, not until you've brushed your teeth, Morning Breath," Wanda says, slapping your chest once, causing you to whine as you stretch a little.

Wanda is always the one to wake up first. Usually she will get a head start on anything needed for the day. But considering it is a weekend she has chosen to come back into bed and allow herself a morning to lounge around.

Now, with both your eyes open, you move one of your hands that was resting on her waist to her cheek and look at her freshly washed morning face.

"Good morning," you finally say, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. Despite her 'morning breath' statement she gives you a peck on the lips and returns the greeting.

The two of you have been home for two weeks. No missions. No dire need of your presence required at the compound. Just you, Wanda an-

You hear the patter of small feet and a few knocks on the door signalling the end of your peace this morning.

Having had the luxury of experiencing it more than a few times these past weeks, you know how this is going to go.

"So, what's our play this time?" You whisper to her.

"I like the one where we pretend to be asleep," she whispers back. Being quiet is detrimental so the two, soon to be, intruders are none the wiser.

You take your positions, relaxed bodies, closed eyes, waiting for the unavoidable moment when they can't help themselves and try to sneak into the room.

The sound of a soft click, notifies you the door has been opened, along with hushed tones of, "Shh, be quiet!" You admire their efforts, they are still new recruits in covert operations after all.

When they are close enough the two of you sit up, arms raised with a loud, "AHHHH!" They both let out high pitched shrieks while the two of you can't help but laugh, giving each other a high five, Wanda giggling as she leans against you.

Tommy is the first to speak, "That wasn't funny!" Followed by Billy, "You do this every time," they groan.

You and Wanda are still giggling as the boys climb onto the bed. "That's what you get for trying to sneak in here," you say triumphantly, "when will you ever learn, huh?" You question as they get comfortable between you both.

Wanda can't help but wonder, "Why are you two always awake so early on the weekends?" The boys look at each other while you sit and watch the interaction in awe as she continues, "I struggle to get you out of bed on school mornings."

They turn back to their mother and shrug, "Weekends mean more time for fun," Tommy responds. The boy, always ready with a quick quip.

Wanda gasps as she moves forward, "Why you little-" she says, tickling him.

Tommy begins to laugh while you and Billy giggle as if you're watching a show play out in front of you.

Once everyone settles back down your stomach rumbles, starting off another round of laughter.

"Ok, ok, I think that's the signal for us all to get washed up and get some breakfast sorted," you instruct.

Just like clockwork, Wanda makes her way to the kitchen while you try and get the boys to cooperate.

After a little bit of a struggle to wrangle the energetic boys together you get them to complete their morning routine.

Before you head down, you check to make sure they are done with what they were told and eventually, you make it downstairs disturbing Wanda's peace.

When you arrive in the kitchen, Wanda smiles over her shoulder at you. Kissing her on the cheek, you take over flipping pancakes so she can finish getting morning beverages sorted.

The boys bicker about their toys as they wait in their seats for their pancakes. You and Wanda sit, passing plates around and help with any fruits they want.

You can't help but feel content at the quiet, the only sounds in the room coming from cutlery hitting plates as well as the occasional competitive comment from the boys about who can finish eating first. This is what your life is and you love every second of it.

Both you and Wanda are in agreement, you couldn't be happier with the way your lives have turned out.

These weeks have only solidified yours and Wanda's plans; officially retiring from the Avengers.

Present day

The fight feels never-ending. Bad guys showing up left and right. You can't afford to think about your fatigue, a distraction could mean the difference between life and death.

You feel something rush past you and the three guys you are shielding yourself from behind a sandbag wall are knocked to the floor.

Vibrations travelling through the floor from a loud roar signals Banner is also here, making you smile with relief. You are thankful some backup has arrived.

"What? You didn't see that coming?" The speedster says, putting his hand out for you to take so you can get off the ground. "And where's my thank you?"

"For taking so long? You know, for a speedster, you're pretty slow," you joke back to Pietro.

He laughs lightly before speeding off, "Try to keep up in-law!" The gray haired man taunts.

…

The battle seems to be coming to an end, only a few brave soldiers on the opposing side are still trying their best even if they are losing.

You take in your surroundings and deem the area you are in as clear before making your way to find Wanda. You follow her powers like a beacon to get to her.

Seeing her take out an enemy brings a proud smile to your face. You can see she is exhausted but will always fight till her last breath.

Feeling your presence, she turns to you after taking down a final soldier. She smiles at you tiredly as you make your way to her.

"I'm sorry honey, I wanted to get to you sooner to show you I was okay, but I was a little busy," you say when you reach her, hands cupping her cheeks, rubbing them and feeling her relax a little in your presence.

"Don't worry malysh, I knew you were here," she rests her face in the crook of your neck inhaling, "I could feel you." The vibrations of her voice against you make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge.

You take a short moment for yourselves, before you meet with the rest of the team gathered in one place as you usually do once the fight is over.

Making your way, everyone checks the bodies they pass on the floor to make sure they are fully knocked out, ready to be detained. The clean up crew will be here soon.

Walking towards where the rest of the team is, you notice you are the last to arrive. The team all gathers and you relax a little by one of the sandbag walls beginning small chit-chat. You allow Wanda to fully press her back against your front as you lean against the wall, anything to help with the tiredness she is feeling.

Bruce confirms a silent alarm was triggered when you, Steve and Natasha got to the targeted archive room.

All that mattered now was that the mission was complete, with no major casualties.

Wanda is now leaning heavily on you so you keep your arms wrapped securely around her to keep her upright.

As SHIELD agents start to appear they begin their part of the process so your team begins their trek in the direction of the quinjets.

Still feeling a little tired, you wait back with your wife, who is now sitting on top of the wall, to allow her a little more time to replenish some energy. When she is ready she takes your hand leaning into you again after you help her down.

"When we get back I'm running you a nice hot bath," you say into her hair.

Wanda moves her head to make eye contact with you, "I hope you're taking this bath with me," she smiles.

"Like I'd have it any other way," you shake your head, smiling back at her, chuckling.

As you look ahead of you while you walk, you hear something and see some movement from the corner of your eye.

In that moment everything feels as if it moves in slow motion.

You see an enemy soldier laying on the ground. Their arm sluggishly moves, taking something from their belt and pulling the pin. Your eyes widen as you turn to Wanda, pushing her away behind another wall you are passing.

It all happens so fast.

The grenade flying through the air in your direction, followed by a loud explosion of heat.

Your body flies backwards, hitting a tree.

Hard.

In the last seconds of your consciousness pain radiates through your body but all you can think about is if Wanda was out of the blast radius.

One month ago

You seem to be spending more and more time at home now that the Avengers have recruited more help, one of them being Natasha's sister who you were surprised to learn about.

There has been a steady flow of smaller missions where you then get to spend a full week at home. It has been a good time to be able to get a schedule into place. Creating a normal home life for Billy and Tommy.

As you put the boys to bed you hear Wanda in the bathroom throwing up everything from dinner for the third night in a row.

Even though she tells you it must be a bug and that it will pass soon, you feel worried.

-

The next day arrives and you take Billy and Tommy to school on your own for the second time this week when Wanda said she wasn't feeling too good this morning.

She hasn't been able to keep much down, first it was some dinners but the previous day she didn't keep anything down at all.

By the time you get back you hear her in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach once again.

You have been kneeling next to her rubbing her back trying to help her through this as much as you can. When she seems to be done, she sits to the side and you help her lean against the wall then take a seat in front of her.

"Three days in a row can't be a coincidence, my love," You think you might know what is causing this but-

"It's too soon, right?" She finishes your thought out loud, "I know I'm late but I thought that was from the stress of everything going on. It took months with Billy and Tommy."

"Either way, I've already made an appointment with Dr Cortez," you can't help the panicked look on your face. Wanda thinks it's admirable so she smiles at you.

"And when did you make this appointment?" Wanda asks, raising her eyebrows, "Also, when is it?"

You smile sheepishly at getting caught. "I called yesterday, she had a cancellation for this afternoon," Wanda shakes her head amused. She puts out her hand to show she is ready to get up so you help her to her feet and don't let go until you see she is steady.

Wanda wraps her arms around you and presses the side of her face into your chest, "Have I told you how much I love you?"

You kiss the top of her head murmuring into her hair, "No, not today you haven't," you scoff slightly.

She lifts her head to look at you with her chin now resting against you. You try not to make a face but you do. You know you have been caught from seeing Wanda's expression changing so you say something before she can, "If you think you're going to kiss me with your vomit breath, you've got another thing coming."

Wanda moves away and looks at you in the mirror as she reaches for her toothbrush, "What ever happened to 'in sickness and in health'?"

"Oh, I can still love you in sickness, it doesn't mean I have to kiss you," your response is a little too quick for Wanda's liking. "Besides I still remember you calling me 'morning breath', it's only fair I return the favour now," you finish with a cheeky smile meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Not one for holding on to the past I see," Wanda muffles past the foamy toothpaste in her mouth sarcastically. While you just smile at her comment.

-

When you make it to your appointment, Dr Cortez takes some samples and instructs you to await her call.

You are done in time for the school run so the two of you pick the boys up and treat them to pizza for dinner.

Wanda's sickness still hasn't lightened up, you are glad she suggested the safe choice of a soup instead of the greasy food so you had picked that up too.

She ends up bringing up her dinner and instead of hovering around her you keep the boys busy with deciding on a movie to watch because they are done with their homework. The last thing you want is them to notice and be concerned for their mother's health.

Once you have them settled you go to check on Wanda. As you get to her she is already leaving the bathroom with a tired expression on her face.

You take her in your arms and comfort her. It's the only thing you can really do. Wanda wraps her arms around you leaning against heavily into your side as you make your way to the living room.

Once you make it to the couch, as always the boys are situated in the middle. You help Wanda sit on one side while you move to sit on the other side.

This is how you spend most evenings, cuddled up relaxing. This time the choice of movie is lost on you because all you can think about is Wanda and what could come from the test results.

You don't notice Wanda looking in your direction. She moves her arm to the back cushions stretching over to run her fingers through the back of your hair, "Your thoughts are loud, honey," she keeps her voice low so the boys don’t divert their attention from the television, before you look over.

"I'm sorry, I jus-"

She is smiling softly when she interrupts you. "I know, but please don't worry. We don't know anything yet," she continues speaking quietly.

Your gazes are pulled away by a small voice coming from between you. "Are you sick mommy?" You see Billy looking in Wanda's direction as Tommy pulls his eyes away from the screen.

Kids are always more perceptive than you realise.

"I have been feeling sick, yes Billy," Wanda answers truthfully.

This time Tommy speaks with a follow up question, "But you're gonna be okay. Aren't you?"

"She's gonna be fine," you reply, for her. "We went to see the doctor today, we just need to wait and see what they say."

Present day

Placing her hand to her pounding head Wanda tries to get past the ringing in her ears. When she stops feeling nauseous she looks around her immediate vicinity. She begins to panic when she doesn't see you.

Wanda was only unconscious for a moment and now that her mind has cleared a little she realises can't feel you as strongly as before. It is as if you are fading. Her mind concludes that she has awoken to the sound of you dying when she hears you wheezing, making her panic grow.

There is dust and debris everywhere and Wanda does her best to look through it trying to find you. She feels a breeze pass her and in the next second Pietro is in front of her, "Sestra, what happ-"

"Where's Y/n?!" Wanda exasperates, her worry overwhelming because she can only just about feel your presence.

Pietro helps her scramble to her feet as they both look around. Wanda walks in the direction she thinks you will be while Pietro trails behind her, looking around to make sure they are safe.

"No, no, no, no," she panics, seeing your boots a few feet away.

As she gets closer Wanda can hear you coughing and your wheezing gets louder. In her mind it is as if your light is dying out.

No.

She can't lose you.

You can't die.

One month ago

The movie still playing in the background is long forgotten.

You and Wanda continue to tell the kids not to worry and you should hear from the doctor soon.

As if he has an epiphany Billy asks, "Could it be a baby?" This gets Tommy perking up too.

You can't help but be curious how he got to that conclusion, "What makes you ask that?"

Billy responds like it's obvious, "You and mommy were talking about having another baby."

Tommy seems to have picked up how Billy got the idea, "Yeah, and we saw something on TV where someone said she was pregnant and that's why she was being sick."

You and Wanda glance at each other for a quick second, smiling at how smart they have gotten. Kids really are more perceptive than you give them credit for.

"We're not sure yet. That's why we went to see the doctor," you respond.

They still have questions. So Tommy asks, "But why did you go to a doctor, can't you check at home?"

"You check on a stick or something like that?" Billy adds.

"This sickness has been different from last time and it's come on quicker than when your mommy was carrying the two of you," you explain to the two boys listening intently.

"We were more prepared and it took a lot longer for you two to turn up," Wanda smiles, tapping Billy's nose making him smile. "And because this sickness is a little different, we thought it would be best to go see Dr Cortez. She said we will find out soon enough," Wanda finishes.

The boys ask more questions and you do your best to answer them. Eventually the conversation dwindles and you notice how late it has gotten. So you announce it is time for bed.

When you lay facing each other, you reassure Wanda, "Whatever this is, we'll get through it together."

You seal your promise with a kiss and hold Wanda until she sleeps. It takes you a little while longer, every bad scenario playing in your head regarding these test results.

Considering your track record of losing loved ones, your mother to leukaemia, your father to an aneurysm and your sister in battle, you don't like your odds. 

Your stomach is in knots, something in your chest feels heavy while your eyes burn. You hope that these test results come quickly and not at all at the same time. You are not ready to lose the love of your life.

Present day

You can just about hear the footsteps closing in on you as you cough out the dryness in your mouth. But you don't care, you just want to go back to your dream. The memory of your family on the couch watching a movie. Talking to each other about funny parts.

As the frantic steps get closer, you close your eyes, ready to be finished off. You think of your boys and of Wanda, sorry that you won't be able to see them again.

"Malysh!"

You swear you hear someone voice you recognise.

"Y/n!" A different voice shouts.

At least you think you recognise them. It is hard to tell with it sounding like you are underwater.

You can barely feel it but cold hands meet your cheeks, rubbing your skin. So that's who it is. Wanda rests your head in her lap as your hand makes its way to hers resting on your face.

Quickly catching up and remembering where you are, relief fills you when you see her, "Wanda," you smile tiredly. "You're okay."

"I thought I had lost you," Wanda sighs. "I saw you lying here, I thought…"

"No, no. I'm okay," you wheeze out.

"Try not to talk, okay? You need to save your energy," she says with tears filling her eyes.

The back of your head is covered in blood. Dust and mud is mixed all over your face and uniform.

You soon realise you are not actually okay. You know what is going to happen, how this is going to end. You can already feel life slipping away from your body.

Pietro is trying to reach someone through his earpiece but it seems to not be working.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," you begin quietly, your voice breaking as tears fall from your eyes.

"Stop… please don't talk like that," your wife begs you. She turns to Pietro and hurriedly tells him to get some medics and a stretcher to your location as fast as he can.

"Wanda, please look at me," you request, before the speedster disappears.

As always you are captivated by her green eyes that the forest surrounding you could never compare to. "Tell the boys I love them," your hand moves to rest on her stomach, "the baby too."

Wanda shakes her head not wanting to accept this was your end as you continue, "God, I hope they get your eyes."

One month ago

The day after your discussion with Billy and Tommy everything is normal, well as normal as the past week has been.

Wanda is forced to stay home because of her sickness while you take care of the boys then take them to school afterwards.

On your return you help Wanda however you can and get her to sit down to relax for most of the day, making sure she takes it easy.

To distract Wanda and even yourself you discuss a variety of things, from; getting things finalised with Fury - he says you will be needed for a little longer while they get the newcomers trained, he promises no big missions are in the near future, to; Billy and Tommy's progress at school.

It isn't until early afternoon that Wanda's phone rings.

She looks at you after she reads the caller ID on her screen, she finds you already looking in her direction.

You turn off the television as Wanda puts down her book to answer the call, picking up the device from the coffee table in front of you.

The look on your wife's face is undecipherable as she responds with short answers and verbal nods. You can't tell if she looks panicked, excited or nervous, maybe a mixture of everything.

A new appointment is set up which makes your stomach flip. Before you can say anything she thanks the doctor and hangs up.

Wanda takes in the apprehensive look you have on but a smile spreads over her face, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Wasting no time she reveals, "I'm pregnant."

Your eyes grow wide as your tense muscles relax. The smile on your face now mimics Wanda's wide one. You lunge forward kissing Wanda wrapping your arms around each other. You celebrate with teary smiles, hugs and kisses. Words of not believing this is real take over as you place your hands on her stomach.

"You're pregnant," you whisper into the quiet room, the smile never leaving your face as a happy tear falls from your eye.

She puts her hands over yours, "We sure are."

-

When you arrive home with Tommy and Billy after collecting them from school you share the news. You sit them down and tell them this is a little family secret. They couldn't tell anyone, not yet.

You were probably being a little too cautious but you didn't want to jinx it. It was an easy agreement between you and Wanda to not let anyone know until at least three months into the pregnancy.

Present day

"Well, I hope they get your beautiful eyes," Wanda responds, "we'll see who wins in seven months, okay?"

You breathe out a pained laugh, "You're really gonna fight me on this, right now?"

Your eyes are barely open but grow heavier as your blinking becomes slower. Wanda looks up to see if help is on its way.

As she looks around you take in all of her features. The beauty marks dotted around her face, laugh lines you are proud to be the reason for helping make, her soft skin you like to trace in the mornings. Especially the mornings you wake up before her.

You feel colder and the weight of Wanda's hand in yours is no longer there. The end is near so you take in as much as you can before you say your final words.

Reaching up, you stroke her face with your finger, you hope you are not pressing too hard, "I love you. Always remember that."

When she looks at you, you continue, "You don't have to do it all by yourself-"

"Stop that. I'm not losing you," she desperately cuts you off.

It doesn't deter you from saying what is on your mind. "You have Pietro and Nat. Even Clint is always giving his advice even when we don't ask for it," you laugh getting a small smile from her until you fall into a coughing fit with blood spluttering from your mouth.

Once it subsides she looks at you with her eyebrows cinched, "I'm not losing you," she says firmly and slowly. "I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me, I'll always be with you," you say, putting your hand to her chest. "Always." A tear makes its way down the side of your face.

You know you don't have much longer. There is not enough time but you feel like you have so much you want to say.

Your eyes begin to droop close, "No, I can't lose you," you just about hear. Your ears feel cloudy, just like your vision. You try to tell her again how you love her, your voice but a whisper using the last bit of energy you have to say it one more time, "I… lov-" with all your energy dispelled you don't stay awake long enough to finish your sentence as your consciousness fades into darkness.

One week later

There is a small smile on Wanda's face as she dreams of you and the boys - it is you laughing with them. Well, you are laughing at your own jokes and the boys giving you a weird look because they don't understand the punchlines. Instead of explaining you chase them around the room jokingly chastising them for not understanding them.

She loves to observe moments like this in your daily life, appreciating having a family of her own. A dream that had to be dropped after she joined Hydra. For a long time she didn’t think she would find her place in the world. Be at peace. But she found it with you.

Her limbs are stiff in her uncomfortable position on the chair she fell asleep in. Night after night of sleeping in an awkward position has not done well for her aching body.

Shortly after you fell unconscious, Pietro returned with Natasha and transportation to get you both out of there. Wanda didn’t let anyone else handle you, afraid they would jostle you too much so she used her powers to levitate you to the stretcher which she then moved to the truck where the medics hurried to look you over. There was no way she could risk losing you if she hadn't already.

If Pietro wasn't there she would have hit the ground as she collapsed, her fatigue catching up with her. She was checked over and apart from a few cuts and bruises she was deemed fine.

No one knew to check the baby.

Something stirs her awake, as usual she hears the sounds of the machines around the private room and footsteps walking up and down the corridor behind her. This time however there is a new sound, not new exactly but it’s you, laughing.

Once Wanda’s confusion subsides she realises your laugh isn’t a lingering sound from her dream. It’s real. Her eyes finally focus enough on you laughing because of something Sam said who is standing beside you on the opposite side of the bed.

The sound is interrupted with you coughing in pain holding your ribs, “You’re the one that needs to stop making me laugh, Wilson.” It is enough to get Wanda to sit upright, the other man in the room, Bucky, catching her movements first out of the three of you.

“You’re awake,” Wanda rushes from her seat to sit beside you, carefully wrapping her arms around you and pressing her face in the crook of your neck, “I was so worried.” She can’t help but let a few tears fall, which you feel soaking into your hospital gown.

After checking you over the nurse was going to wake Wanda but you stopped her, wanting to let her rest. When the nurse was exiting the room she found the men lingering outside your door until she was done for their daily visit.

You whisper reassurances to Wanda, that you are okay and explain that Bucky, Steve and Sam were the closest to the room when you woke up.

Steve left after a few minutes because he was needed elsewhere - training duty with potential new Avengers. He expressed his relief saying he was glad you were okay before hugging you then leaving shortly after.

Bucky taps Sam on the shoulder, signalling to the door to give the two of you some privacy.

"I didn’t mean to wake you, love,” you say as Wanda pulls away, wiping her tears. She takes your face into her hands, “Sam was telling me to - 'Stop laughing, your wife will kill me if she wakes up hearing you in pain'," you mimic Sam as best as you can.

Wanda scoffs and shakes her head at your antics. She looks at you, really looks at you as if assessing you. You look tired, the bruises and cuts that litter your face, arms and peaking out from your robe not helping.

You cup her cheek, tracing a fading cut there as you get her to meet your eye line, “I’m okay,” you promise her, then move your arms around Wanda as tight as you can. You power through, your aching body not liking the movement of your limbs even if the feeling has been dulled down due to the pain medication running through your veins from the bag attached to your arm. 

Wanda can’t help but voice the deepest fear she has had this past week, "I thought I was gonna lose you." Your eyes well up because of her shaky tone.

"I know, I'm sorry," you pull back, "I'm sorry. I thought that was it, I was so worried. I had to tell you whatever I could." You look into her eyes, the ones you will be able to continue waking up to, thankful you still get to live your life with her.

Putting your hand on her stomach, you swallow the lump in your throat in fear of the answer you were about to receive, "Did you get checked out? Bucky and Sam didn’t mention anything about the baby."

When Wanda awoke the following day after the mission, she was told she was healthy. It hit her all at once about them not knowing to check the life growing inside her.

She places a hand over yours, with tears in her red rimmed eyes thinking about the worry she went through. First the possibility of losing you, then maybe losing the new part of you she had left.

“Natasha was there when I woke up, she found a doctor so fast when I told her,” Wanda recalls, remembering the sheer urgency she showed to find someone. Natasha all but dragged a doctor into the room to make them check Wanda.

"They did a sonogram," she trails off. You look at Wanda with regret in your eyes for not being there, "I got to see this little one for the first time," she says looking down to her stomach then back at you smiling, "they confirmed, everything is fine."

You sigh in relief, holding her hands between you, "I wish I was there to see and hear their heartbeat with you."

Wanda rubs the back of your hand with her thumb, "Would you like to see?" You respond by nodding your head. Wanda checks the pocket of the hoodie she is wearing and when it is empty she sees the small square photo paper on the chair she has been calling a bed.

Reaching over she grabs the photo that is face down and sits next to you after you scoot over making space for her, "We've got a strong one here," she says holding the image from the sonogram. You rest your head against Wanda's shoulder as you take in the blur of a baby in the picture.

You take a deep breath and smile at your wife. "We need to get that retirement sorted, huh?" You half joke, “This little peanut needs to stay safe, we can’t risk something like this happening again.”

Wanda agrees but senses your worry when you place a hand back onto her stomach, looking at it as if you can see the baby. “The doctors checked everything. Twice over, malysh,” she adds to reassure you. “She’s fine.”

Your head snaps up so fast, a small smile taking over Wanda's face, looking down for a second and scrunching her nose when she realises what she has just let slip. You can’t help the happy tears that well in your eyes, “A girl?”

Wanda replies with a nod, smiling tearily, “The doctor thought I already knew.” You move forward and kiss Wanda as much as your body will let you.

A little girl. She will be the one to complete your family.

After a few moments of silence basking in each other's presence, your forehead leaning against hers, you break it, "I would never have forgiven myself if I died."

Wanda scoffs at your comment effectively breaking you apart, "You wouldn't have forgiven you?! I wouldn't have forgiven you!" You chuckle at her comment.

You take both her hands in yours letting out a breath, “So Nat knows about the baby?” You ask in a whisper and Wanda hums in response. "And who knows about the retirement plan?"

"Just Nat,” Wanda replies.

“We are never going to be able to keep anything from her, are we?" You joke, making Wanda giggle.

"Erm, of course you’re not," Natasha says, walking into the room. "You two are always so obvious when you're hiding something. Though, I will admit,” Natasha pauses as she places her hand on your shoulder when she reaches your side, “I was surprised by the news of the baby." The three of you share a smile before she continues, "How are you feeling?"

"Alive." You smile gratefully, looking at Wanda then back at Natasha, "I hear I have you to thank."

"I'm sure Sam exaggerated but yes. Please send your praises my way," she muses, smiling back at you, taking a step back.

“He did mention something about you bulldozing a few trees to get to me,” you remark.

This gets the three of you to chuckle. When the joke passes Natasha asks, "You up for some visitors?"

As if on queue Billy and Tommy enter the room with Pietro following them. They run up to the bed and practically jump on you.

"Careful boys!" Wanda warns from next to you. They reply, sheepishly in unison, "Sorry mom."

Your chest fills with warmth as you push their hair back while looking at them, "It's okay," you look to Wanda before saying, "I'm okay," with an emotional smile.

Both boys start rambling on about all the cool things they have been doing with Uncle Pietro; playing games, eating junk food and something about being able to jump higher on the trampoline because uncle Pietro can use his superspeed to help. On top of that, how fun it has been having 'Aunty' Monica over too.

"So, not one nutritional meal this week, I'll take it?" You look at Pietro with a raised eyebrow. Then continue with a sarcastic remark, "And I see you've been showing the kids how to be responsible with powers?"

There is a beat of silence as everyone's attention turns to Pietro.

"The candy was fruit flavored!" He exasperates. The boys nod at his statement as Natasha stands to the side with her arms crossed, chuckling while you smile at the scene.

Pietro is about to continue but gets cut off by Wanda with an unimpressed glare, "Let's not forget this extra house guest I wasn't aware of."

"I needed the adult company…?" He shrugs unsurely.

It gets chaotic with Wanda telling Pietro off, the boys trying to defend him and Natasha standing on the side laughing at the whole thing. Even with the pain you can feel you can't stop yourself from laughing too.

Eventually your laughs stop and with a smile on your face, you take in the moment.

You wouldn't have it any other way. This is your family. Your small and silly little family.

You are glad to be able to live another day.

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention��� from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[absurdthirst]

Ok I got a weird one for ya…..

Which of the P boys would be a sperm donor?

What if their female friend wanted a child or she’s flipping through a sperm donor book and stumbles across a Prince from Dorne or a handsome DEA agent but can she resist the cute pilot?

Who Would Be A Sperm Donor:

**Female Reader

Javier Peña: Hell no. Not at all. Never. He was lucky that he had managed to never knock anyone up, he would never donate sperm for a child he would not be involved with.

Ezra: Shocked you would want his sperm. Questions if you understand that he will not be around to help you with this child. He's willing to give you his seed, but then disappears on the first freighter out of the system. What do you do with the doctors and his sperm is up to you. He's already spent the credits you gave him.

The Mandalorian: Is against it at first. Reminds you that he is a bounty hunter with a youngling he has adopted, he won't be able to help you out with a child. Eventually comes around to it. Gets you pregnant the old fashioned way and never leaves again. Well, he does - but he always comes back.

Pero Tovar: Food, a bed and a hot cunt? Pero is surprised that you are so wanting a child you are willing to have his bastard. Can be talked into it with a few cups of beer and flashing your tits at him. Surprised Pikachu face when he comes back next winter and there is a child there. Ends up staying in the village and raising the boy with you.

Agent Whiskey: NO. Absolutely not. After his wife and baby boy died, Jack got the snip. There are no babies in his future.

Frankie Morales: You have to talk Frankie into this. Yes, he would have to admit that he has also give a sperm sample when he was young and dumb. Later on, he tried to withdraw the right to use it - but it had already been used. Now he has to wonder if there is a little Morales out there that he doesn't know of and he doesn't know if he can do it again. Eventually he comes around and feels a little awkward when it comes to giving the sample and listening to what they will do to you to give you that baby you want. Quietly inquires if he could give the baby any of his benefits.

Dave York: Dave donated when he was younger. Probably still at the sperm bank, but he was young and about to deploy for the first time. He had wondered what would happen if he died, so he had gone down and donated his sperm. If you want that, he can show you which clinic, or he can give you a fresh sample but Carol can never find out.

Oberyn Martell: Done. Is there really any question? You want a child and he would love to bed you. But you will raise his child in the shades of the Water Gardens and they will become another one of his beloved Sand Snakes.

Marcus Pike: VERY conflicted. He would love to help you out, but he's also had a lot of dreams of having his own children. Children that he has a very hands on approach to raising. Honestly, he's turning you down. Not because he isn't sympathetic, but there is no way he can have a child out there that he's not in their life.

Max Phillips: Sure! Let's do this! It has to be the old fashioned way though. And does it matter that his sperm is technically dead?

Marcus Moreno: He's had sooooooo many requests for this. Do you know how many people want to have a Heroic's baby? Thinking that it would increase their chances of the child having Heroic abilities, the requests can sometimes be overwhelming. He will have to turn you down. His answer is always no.

Max Lord: Sure. If you invest in Black Gold, Inc.

Zach Wellison: Reluctantly admits that he's donated before. He got paid for each donation, so.....yeah. There was a time where he was donating blood, plasma and sperm to trying to survive. A little ashamed of it, but he did what he had to do. If you want a kid, he'll do it again, you've been a great friend to him.

Javi Gutierrez: Surprised. Honored. A little scared of the idea. You have to very thoroughly explain everything to him and he will go with you to a doctor's appointment to get even more information. A little sad that he wouldn't have any rights to the child unless you agree. Eventually decides that he will do it. Anything for the woman he secretly loves.

Dieter Bravo: Are you trying to shake him down for money? To get child support from an Oscar winner? He is squinting at you suspiciously before he asks if you want to do a line of Coke with him.

Tim Rockford: He studies the idea like he would a case. Digging into the information and talking to people who have used sperm donors and the donors themselves. Eventually decides that he will do it for you. But then he misses every damn appointment for the donation because he was working on a case.

Joel Miller: Pre-Outbreak Joel would think that you are joking. Laughing at your suggestion until he realizes that you aren't laughing with him. Asking why him. Why would you want him to give you a baby? Talks about it with Sarah and only turns you down because she would have different expectations of having a sibling than what you would want. Post-Outbreak Joel would think that you have lost your fucking mind. Good luck ever getting in his pants now that he knows you want a kid in this godforsaken timeline.

Marcus Acacius: You want his seed? He is unsure of this, because he knows that he will fall in battle at any time, but he knows that you will be able to take care of a child. Plus, he will be able to spend a good amount of time in your bed, taking those memories with him when he leaves on his next campaign of the glory of Rome.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Enabler (Mark Hoffman x Female!Reader)

a/n: y'all missed me? i binged the entirety of the saw franchise while sick and... yeah.. f the police right?

Warnings: Non-Con (like, fr, be warned, be safe), a lazy ass idea for a Jigsaw trap, Workplace Crush heehee, Smut, Strahm's also here

Summary: You've survived a test, made for you by Jigsaw. As your two coworkers visit you in the hospital, Hoffman thinks back to that faithful night of your kidnapping. Cross-Posted on AO3.

Live or die, detective. Make your choice.

The mechanically distorted voice follows you through your journey to regaining consciousness. It's words flicker in and out of existence, as your eyelids flutter against the white light of the hospital room. Your eyes water and you groan, as the mixture of the night's events comes back to you in a wave of nausea and dull pain engulfing your entire body. Your fingers scratch lightly at the crispy white duvet, and you feel every single tendon in your hand flex, earning another groan from you. 

There's a steady sound of beeping present in the room. It makes your brows furrow slightly. It must've been really bad, if they had you hooked up to a heart monitor. You don't really remember just how bad it was, your mind flickers to the moment you slid your hand into the metal box and then... Pain, so much pain, and the smell of blood that follows you like a phantom even in the pristine light of the hospital room.

- Thank God you're awake. - a voice brings you back from beneath the surface, a familiar one, laced with inexplicable worry. 

You force your eyes to open all the way. Bright light attacks your pupils and you can't bring your arm up to shield yourself, even if you tried. Pain, bordering on tearing, floods your system whenever you try to force your upper limbs to work. Tears form beneath your eyelids and you blink forcefully to distribute moisture across your eyeballs. 

There are two men in your room, and even their blurred sillhouettes are enough to let a wave of relief wash over you. 

 One standing by the foot of your bed, towering over the entire space, even with the slight hunch in his back. The other one sits by your side, hands fiddling with the edge of a green blanket the hospital staff must've left for you. Even with the grogginess of sleep still hanging onto you, you immediately notice the sudden lack of his wedding ring, which he usually kept on. Perhaps he's just washed his hands. On instinct, your head rolls over towards the sitting man, and your lips pull back into a tired smile of recognition. 

- Hello ladies... - your voice doesn't sound like a voice at all.

It's hoarse, barely recognizable, sounding more like a huff of wind going through rusty machinery. Still, Special Agent Peter Strahm lets out a puff of air, tension sliding off of his shoulders as if a tangible weight has been lifted from them. Your eyes shift downwards, towards his hands, and you watch as his fingers twitch, so close to grabbing yours, yet deciding against it at the last minute. 

God bless professionalism, you think bitterly, before straightening your head on the pillow and looking towards the other man.

Detective Mark Hoffman watches you intensly from the foot of your bed, his expression unreadable, as he takes in the sight of you. Face almost washed out of any color, sunken cheeks and eyes, lips so close to blue it's almost making him pity you. Almost. 

Then, there are the bandages. Starting at both of your palms, running up and up, all the way towards your elbows, where your skin peaks at him from under the hospital gown. They've managed to stop most of the bleeding, but he can see clear as day, specs of drying blood showing through the cloth, creating a contrast that's strangely hypnotizing. He doesn't want to imagine how your arms look underneath. Doesn't need to, he has seen those wounds first hand. Both after you were rescued... And before that. 

- How long have I been out? - you ask after a moment of silence, your voice regaining a bit of your usual color. 

Mark opens his mouth, but it's Strahm who answers you first. The Detective bites down on a scowl. He was never too interested in literary heights, but even he must admit there is something poetic about the both of them crowding around your bed, while you lay there, stricken by tragedy. It makes him feel ridiculous. You make him feel ridiculous. 

- Two days - Strahm supplies, his eyes flickering around your face, the bed, the medical apparatus - You've been unconscious most of the time, lost a whole lot of blood. 

To that, you scoff, or laugh, neither of them are sure. Of course you've lost a lot of blood. That was the point of the game, wasn't it? To bleed yourself dry. And supposedly some important life lesson was also hidden in there, but after five minutes of pissing blood from your veins into a beaker, you really must've lost it in translation. 

- Fuck... - you sigh, slowly trying to move your muscles under the covers.

You try to lift your hand towards the bedside table, where a water bottle with a straw is waiting for you, but your hand starts to shake so badly, you have to give up. Oh, you hated this. This feeling of helplessness. That's when Hoffman springs to action, closing the distance between himself and the other side of your bed. He snatches the bottle from the table like a man on a mission, and places the straw right at your lips. 

- Thanks - you mutter, eyes connecting with his for a split second, before focusing all your efforts on drinking. 

You don't remember water tasting this good, and as you swallow, you let yourself hum with delight. After a while, the bottle is finished, and Mark dutifully places it back on the table, debating whether to shuffle back to his original place, or to somehow stay here, looming over you as there was no chair for him to sit in. You decide for him, patting the side of your bed and attempting to shift your legs a little, to make more room. He takes the hint and plops himself right next to your foot, his hand coming up to grab at your calf reassuringly. Immediately after that, all reservations seem to leave Strahm, as his hand slides over yours in a warm embrace.

If you weren't so goddamn tired, you would've laughed. Two manly men, fighting like a bunch of petty schoolgirls. Your chest swells with something dangerously close to affection. Quick, someone call for the doctors to bring back professionalism into the room. 

- Do you remember anything from that night? - Hoffman asks with slight tension in his voice.

- Is this really the best time to be asking this? They've barely woken up - Strahm's always close to outrage when Hoffman's around, and you silence him with a slight shake of your head.

- It's fine, I can talk - you mutter, brain already working overtime, as you think hard on every single detail from your recent kidnapping.

- I called you.

Your eyes focus on Hoffman, and you can see his jaw shift under his skin as he swallows. His lips twitch into a small smile, but you can see worry settling heavily over his brows, as he looks over the bandages on your arm, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your calf through the blanket. 

- That you did. - and at the time, it almost startled him to death.

***

The puff of smoke you let out flows into the night air of the city, as you lean your head against the cool wall of the restaurant. You're dressed a bit too elegantly, too much like a costume of a successful woman, with skinny heels and too big of a coat. 

Hoffman watches with unreserved fascination the way neon lights illuminate the column of your throat. Hidden in the shadows of his car, finally he can watch you without the confines of his professional reputation restraining him. Only if for a fleeting moment, before he has to put on the mask and fulfill his other duty.

 Still, his eyes glide greedily over your body, dolled up specially for this fancy dinner with your highschool "friends". You've been buzzing around the station for almost a week now, complaining about this particular meeting, and every time you've mentioned it, Hoffman was making plans. All he had to do, was wait until you were ready to leave. He was certain, you would like a long, calming walk after this whole spectacle. You always did those, whenever a particularly hard hitting case appeared. 

Another puff of smoke, and you reach towards the pocket of your coat, fishing out your phone and flicking it on. His eyebrows raise in curiosity, as he watches you dial a number and place the device between your shoulder and your ear. Your hand reaches down to loosen the strap on your heel, and Hoffman is so transfixed by your display of calculated clumsiness, he almost flies from his seat, when his phone starts to ring in his pocket. 

Your number is displayed proudly next to your name, and he blinks a few times, before answering.

- Hoffman speaking.

- It's me - your words are slightly slurred, and from his hiding spot he can see the smile forming on your painted lips. 

- Did something happen? Why are you calling me? - he asks, trying to sound as bored and tired as he possibly can, while fighting off the sudden jolt of adrenaline surging through his body. 

He sees you straighten out against the wall, finally giving up on the strap of your heel. Then he hears the shuffling. And laughter, a short chuckle that sends something swirling in his stomach. 

- I'm fine, I'm fine... I just... - you hesitate, hand coming up to tug at the roots of your hair, before taking a long drag from your cigarette, irresponsible, Hoffman thinks - I just wanted to hear a voice of someone who's not a complete asshole. 

His laugh comes out in a huff, and it seems contagious enough to make you chuckle as well. If only you knew on how many layers you were in the wrong. Perhaps you'll find out someday, most likely not. Not after tonight. 

Still, the sheer notion of you calling him of all people. Calling him instead of your favorite Special Agent even. There's a feeling dangerously close to pride climbing up Hoffman's chest, and he has to swallow it down, before he does something stupid. Which, in this case would be not doing anything. He has to remind himself, why this whole situation is taking place, and all feelings of flattery turn to ash in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow. 

- I take it the dinner isn't going well.

- Oh it's fucking terrible - you shake your head in frustration - I don't really care about what they say, I just want to eat food. Which, as it turns out, is a lot to ask for at a dinner party. 

- Want me to come over? - he asks, hand playing idly with the black synthetic hair of his pig mask.

For a second, you seem to be actually considering it, and Hoffman would lie, saying it didn't make something swell up in his chest again. Dangerous, very dangerous. 

- Nah - you sigh, before throwing a long, disgusted look at the door to the restaurant - Give me permission to ditch them. 

He doesn't hesitate to engage in this short, familiar dance of yours. 

- You have my permission to ditch them.

Another sigh, then a wave of giggles. Your expression in the neon lights looks almost affectionate. Hoffman reaches for the chloroform bottle.

- Thank you - is this a blush Hoffman sees on your cheeks, or is it just his mind supplying what he wishes was true, who's to say - For the talk and everything. I'll see you at the station. 

- Good night, Detective.

He disconnects with one hand, while the other wrestles the mask over his face.

 You don't even notice, when he slips behind you, with a chloroform cloth in his palm. It takes a couple of seconds of wrestling, but it still makes him pretty worked up, in more ways than he has anticipated. There is no screaming, for which he is grateful. Your body is strong against his, as you give him all you've got, trying to shake his much larger frame. Your heel digs painfully into his foot, as you slam it down, and he fights back the urge to scream. You can't hear his voice, it would be too telling. While his one hand presses the cloth to your face, the other tries to contain the flurry of panicked punches you throw his way. 

The way you wriggle against him shouldn't really affect him that much, hasn't affected him with any other victims. But the sheer fact it's you he's overpowering, seems to be enough. He balls the cloth in his hand sticking it further down your mouth, and shudders at the feeling of your teeth dragging against his leather gloves. 

A muffled scream is all that you have left, as your hips buck into his forcefully, hands scratching down his forearms. His breathing heavily behind you, watching with mixed emotions as, finally, consciousness leaves you.

 You fall down in a heap at his feet, to which Hoffman has to admit, he has never felt so powerful. There's blood on your stiletto and a perfectly round hole in his shoe. He grunts in annoyance at the prospect of having to hide a limp for a couple of weeks. 

Getting your lifeless body into the trunk of his car is laughably easy. 

***

- So you didn't see who attacked you? - Hoffman clarifies, and you nod solemnly. 

His hands flex, your leg underneath his palm twitching slightly. Strahm sighs heavily next to you, his head hung low, as he massages your fingers so gently, it's almost as if he's afraid you'll break under his touch.

 You appreciate that, him leaving his bad cop persona on the hanger by the door. Still, between his tactful worry and Hoffman's stressed twitchiness, one of you has to be the stern policeman. And it seems this time the honor falls on your shoulders. So, you wiggle in your place, rising into a sitting position. The suddenly stern expression seems almost foreign on your sunken face, a caricature of a person you used to be. No, scratch that, you still are. This is the one thing you won't allow Jigsaw to corrupt. 

- He's strong though - you say, eyes glued to the edge of the green blanket, as you focus on all the sensations from the night of your attack - Uses chloroform to sedate his victims. 

- Kramer? - Hoffman asks and you immediately shake your head. 

- I can take a dying cancer patient. That man was healthy, fucking gigantic and... - your eyebrows furrow - He caught me by surprise right after we ended the call. 

Hoffman looks like he has something else to say, but he swallows thickly, his palm pressing further into your calf. You try to give him a reassuring smile, convince him, that it's alright. It falls flat against his tense expression, and you know deep down, he feels guilty for not talking to you longer, not checking up on you. He shouldn't, but it's just the way he works. And you appreciate it. 

He's enjoying himself far more than he would've anticipated, listening to you talk about him without actually knowing anything.

He likes the way your entire face scrunches in focus, trying to remember anything of note, while he's sitting right here, right in front of you. Perhaps he's becoming an adrenaline junkie? All thanks to you. Yes, he thinks, eyes gliding over your disheveled hair, you're absolutely the enabler here, and you don't even realize that. 

Even after what he put you through.

His jaw tightens at the thought of you never actually learning from this special, intimate experience he has concocted just for the two of you. Haven't you heard the tape? Or perhaps you're just too goddamn dense to comprehend the lesson. As he looks into your doe eyes filled with pity and misguided understanding, he's beginning to think the latter's the case. 

- And after that? - Strahm is still careful, as if you are some startled animal, and Hoffman huffs through his nose, letting some of his bubbling anger out. 

You visibly shudder, and while on the surface both men have the same, worried reaction, Hoffman feels as if he's ready to run a marathon. You're scared, scarred forever by him, and yet here you sit, unaware. Letting him pet your leg like some goddamn pet. Good thing Kramer doesn't actually know how to read minds, otherwise Hoffman might end up in a trap himself for just thinking about you. 

- I woke up in a chair - you answer after a while, your voice numb and emotionless.

That won't do, Hoffman thinks, eyes burrowing into your skull, as if he wants to drill a hole and look straight into your brain. He wants you crying, unconsolable, changed. That carefree, light persona you've been flaunting before him since the moment you've arrived at his station. He wanted it gone. 

- My legs were tied, and my wrists were hanging down from the armrest. There were boxes underneath, with buttons... 

Suddenly, you head snaps up, eyes fiery and filled with righteous fire none of the men expected. Hoffman thinks, for just a second, that something has clicked in your mind. Something that would unmask his entire operation. The thought excites and terrifies him at the same time and subcontiously, he throws a quick look towards Strahm, who's too absorbed in your statement to pay him any mind. 

- He was checking the restraints when I woke up - there is something in your voice, something that makes Strahm lean closer in his chair, something that keeps Hoffman from breathing too deeply, because deep inside he knows what comes next - I think this whole thing can be psycho-sexual.

There. You can hear the pin drop, as your words register in the men's brains. 

- How...? - Strahm starts, but you cut him off harshly.

- He got hard while tying me up.

Silence. 

Only the beeping from the medical apparatus can be heard in the room. Strahm closes his eyes, bracing himself for the next question he has to ask. Hoffman on the other hand is becoming redder and redder under the collar of his shirt. How far will you go with your story?  

- Did he...? - Strahm swallows, cutting himself off.

Hoffman leans forward, as if he wants to pull the answer from between your teeth himself.

Did he? You're avoiding both their gazes, eyes flickering between your bandaged arms, something darker settling over your features as memories flood you. Did he? Hoffman's hand clamps itself down onto your calf, you can feel all five fingers digging into your flesh. How much will you tell, how much are you willing to share with your darling Special Agent? With him? Hoffman feels his chest tighten, every breath becoming more and more shallow. You, on the other hand, inhale slowly, deeply, then exhale.

- He didn't. 

Hoffman wants to laugh. 

***

He tightens the restraints on your left arm, when you start to rouse from sleep. Your head lolls to the side, cheek pressing into his arm. He freezes in his spot, one hand flying towards his face to secure the pig mask over his features. Silence hangs heavily between the two of you, cut only by the quiet groans coming from your waking body.

 Transfixed, Hoffman watches the way your lips seem to hang slightly open, lipstick smeared, mascara running, staining his shirt, as you all but rub your face against his shoulder. You look lovely like this, so vulnerable, with your face mushed against him. Nothing like the headstrong, strudy woman he's come to know over the short time you've spent at his station. 

Were your superiors aware of what they were doing? Sending some pretty young thing, straight from the academy, eyes still shining with ideals, all the way into the heap of corruption that was his city? And right in the middle of the biggest serial killer case the world has ever seen. They must've known you were doomed to fail. The narrative was never on your side, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

- Mmm... - finally, he can hear your voice get clearer, still groggy from the chemicals he has pumped into your neck - Mark...

He nearly jumps at the sound of his name. Thoughts run rampant through his skull, heart beating so hard, he's scared it will fly right out of his chest. Have you recognized him? He made sure to leave all traces of the Detective Mark Hoffman at the door before starting this. It was impossible, he did everything right. 

Your head rolls back against the backrest of the chair, your throat exposed to the world, to his hungry eyes. Your pulse runs rampant through your veins, and Hoffman feels a sudden urge to rip your trachea out with his teeth. Or, press an open mouthed kiss behind your ear, he can't seem to decide.  

- Oh, Mark... - a moan slips from your lips, and this time, he fully comprehends what is happening.

The realization runs past his brain and straight to his crotch. With shaking hands he reaches for a leather belt, and forcefully pushes it into your mouth, causing your eyelids to flutter.

Finally, your eyes start to open. Pretty eyes, he thinks, especially now that they're surrounded by dark stains from your mascara, glossy and unfocused. You writhe in the chair, as if you're waking up from a wonderful nap, arms straining against the restraints when you try to stretch. Then, your body freezes, realization that something is terribly wrong settling over you in an almost visible shadow. 

Panicked, you turn your head towards him. Tears flow freely down your cheeks, and Hoffman flexes his fingers. The urge to rip his mask off, to show you who he really is grows in him like a tumor.

 Oh the look on your face would be something for the history books. Your favorite grumpy detective, your best work buddy. Would the truth about his identity crush you? He liked to think it would. He liked to think it would suck any will to live right out of you. 

He wanted to have that power over you.

Hoffman drinks in your terrified expression like a man parched. The confusion between your eyebrows, the click in your jaw, when you realized you've been gagged, the way your eyes find him in the darkness of the room. It's almost too easy to let himself be enchanted by the way you look, so different from your usual appearance. 

Where is that young profiler teasing him about his gruff exterior any chance they get? He could never decide whether he wanted to kill you or fuck you in these situations, hiding his frustrations behind an exasperated eyeroll, or a smile if he felt generous. 

Right now, he can't decide either, as you begin to move in the chair, tugging at the belts holding your limbs down, scanning the room behind him, You're smart, he knows and despises that with his whole heart. Because if you weren't, he could just write you off as a naive, stupid girl, who doesn't know her place. But he can't, which means everything you've done, you've been doing intentionally, and the thought boils him from the inside. 

Your gaze falls towards the boxes under your hands, the slits in the armrests, where stainless steel blades reflect the light from a singular lamp. And the beaker, right in front of you, ready to be filled. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you're supposed to do, and you give out a pathetic whine, which Hoffman immediately commits to his memory.

Killing you is out of his hands now. The game has been set, and the outcome rests solely on your trembling shoulders. The second part however... 

His eyes rake across your entire body, taking in the elegant blouse, which is now stained and torn in a couple of places. The tight pencil skirt you've chosen for the dinner, and how it has ridden up your thighs. Your stockings, torn on your knees, where you fell to the floor. And those damned stilettoes, one of which still has his blood on it's heel . Which reminds him...

Hoffman steps in front of your chair, your eyes following him cautiously. He can see thoughts run rampant through your head, searching for a way to get out, trying to determine his intentions, anything that might be helpful.

Well, good fucking luck Miss Profiler. 

He kneels down in front of you, taking a hold of your calf in a manner so gentle he's surprised himself. The leather gloves on his fingers make the task of unclasping the small belt around your leg a hassle, but he doesn't falter. You two have all the time in the world.

Figuratively speaking. He needs to be out of here in half an hour. 

The heel slips from your foot and Hoffman lets out a barely audible chuckle, as he's greeted by neon pink nail polish. 

Professionalism, you would remind him every single time, whenever he even dreamt of coming closer to you. It was infuriating, the way you led him by his nose, coming to work in the tightest of clothing, swaying your hips like the place belonged to you. And then, you would walk past him with a laugh and wink at Strahm of all people, when you thought he wasn't looking. 

His hand splays out all across your calf, a touch so unexpected, he feels your muscles jump under his fingers. All your focus shatters immediately, as his second hand joins the other, running up and down your leg, stopping just short of your thigh. Realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and he follows your line of vision straight to a very visible problem brewing in his trousers. Mentally, he scolds himself for loosing control so easily. 

If Kramer could see him now, he'd shoot him on the spot. 

But then again, maybe not. After all he agreed to let Hoffman orchestrate this entire game, and then allowed him to carry it out, despite his connections to the victim. You could never guess with that old bastard, and for that, Hoffman is eternally grateful. 

Your body twitches in the chair, as he finally drags his hands higher. You squirm, leather gloves feeling foreign on your skin.

He knows, he knows, he wants to coo at you from under the mask, swallowing the urge with a sigh. You can't hear his voice, he reminds himself, almost too enraptured by the heat radiating off of your body.

He continues to massage your leg, fingers hooking into the torn material of your stocking, pulling at it, tearing it further in an agonizingly slow pace. Almost as if he wants to watch closely as the fibers give away. Then, in a sudden change of pace he rips them entirely apart, until they fall in strips of sheer fabric on the chair.

A gasp escapes you, and you spring into action, legs clamping shut in an instant. You're fast, but Hoffman is faster, and he wedges both his hands between your shaking thighs. It takes little to no effort to open you up again, and he leans down, squeezing his torso between your knees. 

Time freezes for a moment, as the both of you watch each other closely. Your chest is rising and falling in rapid succession, as fire begins to brew in your eyes. Hoffman leans even closer, hands skimming just short of your core, as they forcefully drag your skirt up. 

God, he loves this look on you. The heat, the anger, the swirling desire. Because he can clearly see the way you take in his frame, unknown to you yet so familiar. Were you able to decipher some familiarities? At this point he can't seem to care, he's so close to his reward. 

Touch me, and I'll kill you, your eyes scream at him.

If you kill me, I'll drag you down with me, the dark holes of his mask seem to reply.

Two forceful tugs and the material of your underwear tears from your body. Cold air makes you uncomfortable, yes, but it's nothing compared to the stillness of the man before you. He stares, intensely, for a moment completely frozen in his spot. You can hear deep, heathing breaths coming from the rubber mask and wonder what is going through this strange man's head. For a second you're actually worried this will be the end of it. As much as you hated what was happening to you right now, you would hate it much more, if you were left wanting. 

Your worries are disproved in a split-second, as gloved fingers wiggle their way into your core. They take you apart, delicately at first, as if the man before you is trying to commemorate your every nook and cranny to memory. This slow exploration twists into adoration in your mind, as you fight off an onslaugh of shivers deliciously running down your spine. You huff, muscles tensing at the intrusion. Despite your growing wetness, the man in front of you has some real thick fingers, made even bigger by his leather gloves. 

He turns his masked head to the side, and you desperately want to know what he's thinking. Your head rolls back, as you bite down on the leather belt in your mouth. Eyes closing, your mind starts to wander into places you're too ashamed to acknowledge. 

God, you're sick. Thinking about your much older coworker in this beyond fucked up situation. But your mind has already supplied you with images of him rolling his sleeves up. His eyes following you around the room when he thinks you don't pay attention. Lingering touches that burn through your clothing. Oh, how much you reveled in the attention, how you stored all those small moments in your mind, just to bring them up in the privacy of your home. 

Perhaps you deserve to be put in trap, perhaps this is your lesson. Discovering the depths of your depravity. 

With a deep sigh, Hoffman pushes his finger in, as far as it can go, and your hips nearly fly off the chair, bucking into his palm. The sound you make bounces off the walls of the room, surrounding him in an echo of your cracking voice. Then, he starts to work you, adding a second finger until you wail through your gagged mouth. His entire arm is put to work, body pressing incredibly closer, as he soaks in your face twisted in pain and pleasure. 

This is so much better than what he imagined. And he has had quite the imagination, from the moment you appeared in his life. All the times he would zone out during a meeting, letting you talk to Strahm about a new discovery in the case, while he let his mind wonder. It was torture, pure and simple. There were points where he couldn't be left alone in his office without his pants tightening. Horrible, awful feelings, all of which were your fault. 

His fingers curl into you, and for a second you swear you can see stars flying across your vision. He notices the sudden change, and doubles the efforts at hitting thet exact spot over, and over again until your legs start shaking. His leather-clad thumb presses tightly into your bundle of nerves, bordering on overstimulation. While his right hand brings you closer to your release, his left one grabs every inch of flesh it can find, fondling with your breasts, squeezing your throat, playing with your blushed cheeks. The rubber of the pig mask is cold against your collarbones, as the man presses his weight to your front, as if he wants to bury himself into your chest.

No one can hear your screams, no one except Hoffman, and he commits every note to memory. Then, your voice snuffs out completely, as your entire body tenses so much, he's actually concerned you'll free yourself from the binds. Your release sneaks up on you and seizes your body in a sudden chokehold. For a moment, you can't breathe, teeth grinding against each other. God, it's been an embarrassingly long time ago since you've had even a resemblance of an orgasm like this one.

Hoffman feels wetness cover his entire palm, coming towards his arm. You're breathing heavily, when he slides his fingers out of you, the leather gloves shining with a souvenir of your altercation. He straightens himself above you, knees cracking as he does. Then, for a moment he just stands there, his shoulders rising and falling heavily, as he huffs under the mask. With heavy eyelids, you watch, as the man lifts it ever so slightly. Your vision is blurry, but your stomach still does a flip, when you see an outline of his tongue darting out to taste you. Then, the mask is back all the way on, and the reality of your circumstance becomes clear once again. 

To his credit, he gives you a couple of minutes to gather yourself, as much as you can in this situation. Cold air makes you squirm in your spot, as you feel the stickiness of your release coat your thighs. Then, the man produces a small casette player from his pocket, presses start, and throws it between your still open legs. He's out of the room before the recording even starts and you're left alone to fight. Or to die. 

***

- When I've put my hands in the boxes and pressed the buttons, knives came out from the armrests - you recount, voice steady despite the chills running up your back. - I had to fill the beaker with my blood, then the restraints would give away and the door would open. 

- What was your lesson about? - Hoffman asks, a certain smugness to him, one, that makes you shift in your seat. 

For a second you were worried, that he deduced what has truly happened from your expression. Perhaps he could read minds, and he discovered you've been thinking of him, while getting off on Jigsaw's apprentices hand. You had to physically shake your head to banish the thought. It was hard enough to look him in the face without impossible scenarios looming over you. 

- The tape hasn't been recovered? - you ask with a tightness to your voice.

- It has, but I haven't listened to it yet - a lie. 

A big, fat, fucking lie, and both him and Strahm know it. The other man turns to him with clear confusion, but Hoffman doesn't bother even acknowledging him. He's too invested in that delicate, blooming fire, which starts to eminate from your eyes. The same flame he has seen back in that room, where you looked at him like you wanted to devour him whole. And you don't even know it.

- He said - you swallow, and Hoffman follows the movements of your throat greedily. - He said I was an enabler, that I bring out the worst in people - another swallow, your gaze never faltering, and Hoffman feels his mouth run dry - That I revel in other's misery. 

- That's not true - Strahm jumps towards you, ready to reassure, to be the gentle hand you undoubtedly need.

- I stabbed the fucker in the foot with my stiletto - your voice breaks, and Strahm pulls away with an unreadable expression.

- And one more thing...

Hoffman turns fully towards you, hands running up and down your calf, as if he's trying to massage the memories back to your brain, make you think of how you fell apart on those exact fingers. The thrill of having you here, so close to the truth is unlike anything he's ever felt. 

- I know what he smells like.

Admittedly it's a small thing, an inconsiderable detail, that will most likely help no one. Still, the sheer tone of voice in which you've said it forces Hoffman to make a detour to his house, between the hospital and the police station. There, he takes a black garbage bag and throws away every single piece of cologne he can find in his house. 

Except one. A small sample he remembers using that very night. He stores it in his cupboard, right next to his bed, a small reminder of what has transpired between you both. Balancing his work life and his secret identity has never been easy, but now... He's almost tempted to throw it all away if it means looking into your tear stained eyes again. 

[yanderes-galore]

here's a Mauga request <3 Could you do a short of him with a darling who's a soldier of overwatch? I just love the idea of him having something he wants being out of his reach but he keeps getting teasing glimpses of it on the battle field. Thanks in advanced!

Imagine just trying to do your job, only for Talon's infamous tank to take interest...

Treat

Yandere! Mauga Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Violence, Blood, Licking of blood, Implied forced "relationship".

You're such a tease to him... like a dog to meat.

It's so difficult for Mauga to not just pounce on you any chance he gets. You're just so small compared to him. Despite that, you're so agile in your field that you can take on big targets....

It irritates him that you have to look to tantalizing... but be with Overwatch.

He scoffs, Overwatch.... That team should've been long extinct ever since what happened with Blackwatch. But, no, instead they're back up and running due to Talon and Null Sector.

You're a new agent for the hero team, already making your presence known to the world. People see you and the rest of Overwatch as heroes. Mauga always sees you on TV... always sees you in the battlefield...

But he never gets a damn taste.

He bets you don't even know how much you tempt him. He already knows as part of Overwatch you hate his guts. You know all about him due to his files.

That's fine... He's done his own research.

He remembers the first time you fought. You ran circles around him due to your smaller figure. He could easily pick you up from the ground... but he's always been one for a little fun.

You had attempted to run past him to save some civilians, but Mauga quickly blocked your way. He found how desperate you were adorable. It was so satisfying to have you trapped in his arms, cornered like prey before him. He really wanted to continue playing such games... yet he got orders to head back to base.

He was irritated the whole day after that.

Now, ever since your close encounter, Mauga has craved you. He wants to corner you again. He wants to hold you and never let go. He's real damn tired of being teased by you.

Your luck was bound to run out....

It was yet another mission and Mauga knew you'd be there. He was adamant on going there, claiming to Talon they needed his guns. Mauga may like to play games... but he's getting tired.

You stroll through the battlefield, taking down Talon agents whenever you can. You expect it to be an easy mission. Just storm some known Talon territory, track down a base of operations... You even got in the base and was doing some decent damage.

Only for you to hear heavy footsteps.

"Talofa! Been awhile, hasn't it?" Mauga chuckles, his large frame stalking close to you. You gasp, holding up your weapon with a glare. You... can't afford to fight him like this.

You're too close.

"Aww... is the little mouse scared of the big bad cat?" Mauga muses, seeing the way your weapon trembles in your grasp. "You shouldn't be so scared... I missed our time together! You telling me you don't feel the same, teuila?"

You back up, but Mauga is quick to close the distance. You let off a few shots but Mauga just laughs. He's experienced much worse....

"Don't you want to take me in? Take me down like Overwatch said you should?" Mauga laughs, smacking the assault rifle out of your hands with one of his large chain guns, "Don't start fights you can't finish, love!"

You yelp when Mauga knocks you to the ground with ease. Oh, to him it's so satisfying to finally have you. He's been waiting too damn long, he always gets what he wants.

He's tired of you being just out of his reach.

"Are you trying to be a little carrot on the stick for me, dear?" Mauga muses, tossing his guns to the side momentarily to pin you to a nearby wall with ease. "You're so cruel...."

You struggle against his tight grip, yet his grip doesn't allow much room to move. Mauga merely chuckles, gripping your sides. His gaze travels up and down your form, a grin on his face.

"Ohh... Someone's bleeding." Mauga hums, using a thick finger to wipe the top of your head. It appears he was too harsh... you're fragile.

You watch as Mauga admires the slick red liquid on his finger. He glances at you with a dark gaze before licking the digit clean with a smirk. You grimace when he hums in pleasure.

"You taste good... like a treat...." Mauga hums, "Always knew you'd taste sweet...."

"Please! Please, let me go... I won't say a word...!" You plead, which makes Mauga howl in laughter.

"What...? Scared because your intel said nothing about me? That I wasn't meant to be here..." Mauga sighs, squeezing you in his grip. He looks irritated for a moment before responding again.

"I had a friend tell me all about you. I've been hunting you, teuila..." Mauga admits, using a hand to tilt your head up.

You struggle against the grip on your chin, yet Mauga prevents you from pulling back by holding the back of your head. As of now... you're a ragdoll in his arms. Weak, pliable...

Prey.

"You still think I'm going to let you go?" Mauga chuckles, seeing the desperate look in your eyes. "Well... Maybe... Maybe I will... but, for now..."

Mauga pulls you closer, lips ghosting over your own. Your breath hitches in fear... which only makes Mauga more eager. He's wanted this.

He's wanted you for so long...

"For now, won't you allow me more of a taste...? Then... maybe I'll let you go...."

He isn't going to let you go regardless of what you do... not when he finally has you to himself.

[orions-athenaeum]

From Your Smile to Your Soul

Bucky Barnes x F!Enchanced!reader

Synopsis: You don't want to go on this mission and Bucky doesn't want the girl whose smile brings him happiness getting hurt. But what can either of you do when your job is to heal others? If only you had told him that you weren't ok, if only he had made sure you were right behind him.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, language, drinking, mentions of guns/injury/blood, hypothermia, asshole SHIELD agents, Bucky gets teary eyed, happy fluff-filled ending...

-I do not consent to having any of my writing, under the username Orions- Athenaeum, translated, posted or published on third party sites, apps or platforms-

Bucky didn’t think there was anything worth enjoying in his new life. Of course he appreciated Steve’s unwavering loyalty and the ease that he brought Bucky after he was freed from Hydra. There was also Sam’s annoying banter which usually gave Bucky something to smirk about, but he would never admit that to anyone. When Bucky didn’t understand what a text message was, Wanda and Natasha helped him adapt to the technological wonders of this modern time. He was even glad when Tony would crack an “old joke” just to get under his skin, because Bucky knew humor was Tony’s way of showing he cared. While Bucky was grateful for everything his teammates did for him, there was still a very obvious void, that felt almost like a ten ton weight sitting on his chest, trying to steal his breath from him. That feeling of immense pressure and simultaneous emptiness only began to lessen about four months ago, on a balmy summer evening when Steve dragged Bucky to one of Tony’s lavish galas.

Bucky didn’t know who or what the event was for, in all honesty he figured Tony was just looking for another excuse to throw a party. The former Winter Soldier had been a part of the team for a while now, but these types of social gatherings never failed to make him feel extremely unsettled. Maybe it was the way he felt people’s eyes lingered on him for too long, whether it was from fear or judgment. Or maybe it was that the suit Natasha had helped him pick out was nearly suffocating him. It could have also been the glass filled with some unknown booze that felt uncomfortably heavy in his vibranium hand. All this to say, Bucky was certain the tension in his shoulders was palpable as he checked his watch for the thirtieth time that evening; he was waiting for the hands to tell him he had waited a respectful amount of time before he could seek out the comfort of his own room. Bucky reluctantly pulled his eyes up from his watch and began to scan the room, hoping to find Steve and with him some sense of calmness. His search was cut short when his gaze landed on a girl chatting with Peter near the bar. She had short y/h/c hair that reminded him of a girl from his own time, messier and not as curled perhaps, but classic nonetheless. Her long, black, strapless dress and sleek platform heels reminded him of something Natasha might have worn. He wondered for a second if maybe Nat had helped her pick out an outfit too. Deciding that was an utterly ridiculous thought a second later, Bucky found himself enamored by her smile. It was all he could focus on: that beautiful, perfect smile. One corner of her mouth curved up more than the other and her full red painted lips made it impossible for Bucky to look away. Seconds felt like hours and as Bucky continued to look at her, he found a smile involuntarily tugging at his own lips. Amazingly enough, he didn’t feel so out of place anymore.

“It’s rude to stare.” Bucky quickly jerked his head towards Sam’s voice. His smile immediately faded as he glared at his friend. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilson.” Even Bucky didn’t believe his words and chances were Sam didn’t either. Despite being a pain in the ass, he was smarter and more observant than Bucky liked to give him credit for. Sam rolled his eyes and ignored Bucky’s hint to drop the topic. 

“Why don’t you go and ask her to dance?” Bucky couldn’t breathe. There was no way in hell he could do that. Standing across the room was the prettiest girl he’d seen and Sam thought it would be a good idea for him to ask her for a dance. 

“Yeah that will not be happening.” Bucky tossed back the rest of the liquid in his glass, knowing that the pleasant burn of the alcohol would not affect him in the slightest. He wished it would. Maybe a little liquid courage was the push he needed to go over and speak to her. 

“Look man, she’s gorgeous and really sweet, I met her this morning. All I’m saying is that she would totally say yes if you asked. She was staring at you too, by the way.” This morning. Bucky recalled Sam telling him he met a new member of the team earlier that morning. Maybe he would have the chance to see her again if she was the one Sam was referring to. Shaking his head to extinguish any false hope he had conjured up, Bucky realized that Sam was telling the truth; the girl was staring right back at him. After a few seconds, she raised her delicate fingers and sent a small wave. Bucky almost keeled over on the spot. Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly raised his own hand back. She smiled. He smiled. And just like that Bucky knew he was a goner.  

Four months later…

“No.” Bucky refused to change his mind. Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, who currently stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest with a look that said, this is your final warning. Steve knew better than to try and push his best friend around, but this really was a mission that required her skills. There were dozens of hostages, and they would need medical attention. Not from doctors, but from her. 

“Buck. You know I wouldn’t put Y/n in the field if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.” Bucky did not move. Steve sighed. And people call me stubborn. He thought to himself. 

“I understand that you want to protect her Bucky, I really do. But she is a part of this team. Y/n’s an Avenger and her role is to heal people. Now, there are people who need her help and she is going to go and help them. If you would prefer not to lead this mission than I can have someone else take-”

“No.” Bucky was quick to cut off Steve’s offer. His tone was firm, but just below the surface Bucky was panicking. He didn’t want his girl out in the field. But if Y/n had to go, he couldn’t stand the thought of not being out there with her. Steve raised a brow. 

“I’ll go. But you better make sure there is no way we’re gonna get ambushed. We’d better be prepared. I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if something happens to Y/n.” Bucky turned to leave the conference room as Steve muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” Bucky snapped. 

“I just said it seems like you care about Y/n an awful lot when she isn’t even your girlfriend.” Bucky knew Steve was trying to get him to admit that he was too scared to ask her out. But honestly, Bucky wasn’t in the mood for his best friend to play matchmaker. So, without a look back, he stormed out into the corridor towards the gym. He was set on taking his anger and fear out on some punching bags, but as he walked through the halls all he could think about was her smile. He needed that smile safe. If he could just wrap it in his arms and shield it from all the bad, he would be happy for the rest of his life. 

————————————————————————

You were certain there had to have been some kind of mistake. The thick Manila folder that sat on your desk marked “MISSION BRIEFING” had to have been delivered to the wrong room. Bucky was just across the hall, so maybe it was for him. That had to be it, because there was no way they were seriously considering putting you out in the field after only four months of being on the team. You weren’t even supposed to be a field agent. Nick Fury had recruited you because of your powers. Sure, you could mend a broken bone and fuse a gunshot wound close, but that did not mean you fought on the front lines. It meant you waited until your team was back to the safety of the compound to help them. Refusing to open the folder you picked it up and made your way to Bucky’s door. 

“Buck?” You called as you knocked on the cool wood. You gasped as it opened not a second later. Bucky was standing in front of you in all his post gym, sweaty, shirtless glory.

“Hey, doll. What’s up?” He asked with a smirk tugging at his lips. That damned smirk. You immediately drew your gaze away from his tight abs and pretty smile up to his eyes. Which, honestly, didn't help because you found yourself getting lost in a sea of  deep cerulean blue. It seemed that every aspect of Bucky had an overwhelming effect on you. Deciding it was best to stare at the carpet instead, you fumbled with the folder before showing it to him. 

“I think they gave this to me by accident, because I’m not usually in the field. Actually I’ve never been in the field and so it’s probably yours and I just wanted to give it to you.” Your words came out all in one breath and you kept your gaze focused on the floor at your feet. You felt Bucky gently take the folder from your grasp. You were ready to let out a sigh of relief when you felt his fingers thread through your own as he lightly pulled you into his room. As your heart beat began to quicken, the brief confusion you had felt quickly morphed into anxiety. Why didn’t he just take his mission briefing and send you on your merry way? He gestured for you to sit down on his bed as he sat next to you. 

“No, this is yours.” He finally said. The finality in his tone made you want to throw up. “Steve told me this morning. But I made him promise that there would be no combat, and I’ll be leading. There will be two other agents, so you’re not alone. The mission should be fairly quick, in and out and then we come home. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words were somewhat of a comfort. You also knew that the rest of the team was fairly confident in your abilities, since Nat, Sam and Steve had all trained extensively with you over the last four months. Bucky refused to spar with you but that's besides the point. Although, you weren’t really worried about not being able to defend yourself. You had been trained and ran through mission scenarios, but the weight of the briefing envelope in your hands was making this too real. It also didn’t help that every single agent wanted to rip you apart because you were given a spot on the Avengers without making it into SHIELD as an agent. You had tried to put yourself through training, but during your first field test, you instantly choked. All of the sudden the gun pointed at the enemy agent in front of you made your arms feel like lead. Your brain wouldn’t let you pull the trigger, so you stood there, frozen. You were positive you were going to be removed from the program, but when Nick Fury heard about your healing powers, you were suddenly offered a spot as an Avenger. So, to put it plainly, every single SHIELD agent hated you. They hated that you failed training and still got the most coveted title, they hated that you lived in Avengers Tower, they hated that you got everything they wanted. The real problem, which was much bigger than any jealous agent’s spiteful remarks, was that you could not stomach the idea of hurting someone. That was the reason why you failed your training in the first place, because bad guy or not, you were given the gift of healing. You were never supposed to cause pain and it seemed as if the concept of harming someone was against your very nature. Pulling the trigger on a paper silhouette was one thing. Aiming a gun at another human being was quite another. So while the training you had done prepared you for taking down enemies, you’re not entirely sure you could bring yourself to that. 

“Ok.” Was all you could manage. Some time during your internal spiral Bucky had begun rubbing soothing circles on your back. Bucky was another aspect of this assignment that you had to consider. You weren’t sure how to feel about him going on the mission with you. Your relationship was a little confusing at times to say the least. You knew that you cared about him more than a friend would and he often made it seem like he felt the same way. You had felt this way from the very first night you met him, when he caught you staring at him and you awkwardly waved (who the hell waves at a hot guy across the room?) Bucky was also the first one to make you feel like you were truly part of the team. He would bring your breakfast to the lab when you were working mornings and didn’t have time to eat, he would make sure you had a good spot on the couch for team movie nights (it was coincidentally always next to him) and then there were time like these where he would comfort you and do everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for. Basically, in the four months that you had known him, you were falling in love with Bucky Barnes. 

“Ok, what, doll?” And those stupid pet names definitely weren’t helping you keep your feelings at bay. 

“Ok. Sounds good, I guess I’ll see you at the hangar in a few hours.” You replied, unwilling to meet his eyes, you slowly picked up the folder and walked towards his door. An unnerving feeling overcame you as you heard the heavy wood close behind you. 

————————————————————————

     You figured the mission would not be a walk in the park, and as you sat in the middle of Siberia, with two agents that hate you and hostages with far more injuries than Steve had anticipated, you knew this easily made your “Top Ten Worst Days list.” Of course you were more than happy to help every hostage, that was the only part you enjoyed. However, the  amount of energy it took to heal so many injuries resulted in black dots clouding your vision by the time you had helped the last hostage. The thing about your healing abilities was that you had to use your energy to heal others. Meaning healing their injuries literally exhausts you. And on top of the twenty broken bones, abrasions and burns you’ve healed, Megan and Nick had a few bumps and bruises from breaking down the door and restraining the guards that needed mending. According to Megan, Bucky told them to go to you since they need to be in top shape for the trek back to the safe house. While the safe house sounded pleasant, the fact that it was currently 40 below and that the shelter was three miles out in the middle of a forest, was not as pleasant. After you finished healing Megan’s bruised ankle, the dizziness that had settled in a few minutes prior was now overwhelming. If you could just sit down for a few minutes and maybe close your eyes, you would feel much better. 

“Get up. We need to meet Bucky in a few minutes. A storm is moving in so we can’t take the jet back until morning. Bucky secured the hostages in an exit raft and we need to find the safehouse soon.” Megan sneered as she pushed your hands away from her ankle. 

“Could I just have one minute? I’m not feeling-”

“You’re an Avenger, right? So get off your ass and start walking.” You hesitantly stood up, apparently too quickly because you began swaying and lurched forward, catching yourself against a tree. The frozen bark cut into your skin, slicing your palms. Willing your head to stop spinning you looked down at your bloodied hands. Another downside of your powers was that once your energy had been spent, it became nearly impossible for you to continue healing, which meant you could not help yourself or others when you were this exhausted. You heard Megan’s boots crunch in the snow as she began to walk, blatantly ignoring your compromised state. Since it appeared you had no other option, you began walking as well, but the edges of your vision were fuzzy and it felt like someone had thrown your head against a wall. If you could just get to Bucky maybe he would let you rest for a minute. No. You couldn’t ask him for that, Megan and Nick already thought you got special treatment for being an Avenger you didn’t need them to see parts of yours and Bucky’s friendship in the field. Plus, Bucky had been acting weird ever since you stepped foot on the quinjet. He called you by your last name and his usual soft eyes and teasing tone had left him completely. It made sense, you told yourself as you pushed forward, because this was his job, and he didn’t really care about you like that. The frigid chill had begun to seep through your suit, and though you had never been a huge fan of the cold, you were thankful for it now. It was keeping you awake and alert, the sting of the snow hitting your face gave you something to focus on so you wouldn’t pass out. Finally you reached the clearing where Bucky was waiting. You glanced up to find his concerned gaze looking you over. You used all your strength to muster up a smile and nodded your head to let him know you were ok. He seemed satisfied enough, and told the team to start walking.

How you managed to walk two miles you weren’t sure, but what you did know was that you were now falling behind the others. You were following Nick and Megan who had been keeping a fairly even pace with Bucky. But now, with the snow whipping all around you, you couldn’t see or hear any of them. Maybe this would be a good time to take a break. It would only be for a few minutes and nobody would notice that you had taken a breather. As the snow storm had progressed you had lost feeling in your fingers and toes, and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. You thought you reached out to brace yourself on a tree but instead you felt like you were falling. It didn’t hurt when you hit the powdery snow, its cold embrace only called you to rest your eyes. You obeyed and felt your eyelids slowly blink shut. I’ll only rest for a minute, you told yourself. Just as you were about to let sleep pull you under, you heard shouting. The voice sounded familiar as it called your name over the howling of the wind. You knew you should answer but you simply didn’t have the energy. Then, you felt strong arms lift you up and a familiar fresh, piney scent filled your nose. This is what Bucky smells like, you thought to yourself. 

“Could you open those pretty eyes for me. Please, doll. I’m begging you, give me anything.” 

Bucky sounded like he was talking underwater. 

“You are not allowed to do this to me, I swear I’ll make it up to you but you gotta wake up so we can talk.” And why did he seem so worried? You wanted to tell him that you were fine but you couldn’t get the words out. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” Bucky’s muddled voice had more of an edge this time. His sharp tone made sense, he had every right to be mad at you, it was you who was slowing down the mission and now he had to pick up the slack. 

“I didn’t see her fall behind, she was fine a minute ago.” This time it was a woman who responded and somewhere in your mind you figured it was Megan. But you hadn’t been “fine a minute ago,” in fact you hadn’t felt ok for over an hour. 

“You’re supposed to watch out for your teammates, so I’m going to ask again, why the hell did you not say something?” In your dazed state you realized Bucky was directing his anger at Megan not at you and well you felt some reprieve from the fact that Bucky didn’t seem too disappointed in you, you were beginning to slip further and further into the shadows of sleep. You knew you needed to stay awake, but you couldn’t feel anything, not the snow hitting your cheeks, or Bucky’s frantic pace, and your entire body felt completely numb. Time began to pass strangely after that moment, you heard some more gargled shouting before you felt your body being laid down on something hard. You found some odd burst of energy and forced your eyelids to open, looking up to find Bucky’s worried eyes desperately trying to hold your gaze. His eyes seemed glossier and much more concerned than normal, but you couldn’t figure out why. “C’mon Y/n, I’ll get you warm and you’ll be alright. I’m gonna have to get your wet gear off first, but I promise I’ll make it all better ok, sweetheart? I love you too much to let go now.” Love? Why would Bucky be talking about love, he seemed so frustrated with you in the field. His face disappeared from view a moment later and you thought you heard the sound of fabric ripping. Bucky yelled for someone to get blankets and before you could tell him that all his shouting was confusing and much too loud, you surrendered yourself to the peaceful comfort of unconsciousness. 

You didn’t know when you became aware of your surroundings again, whether it had been minutes or weeks, you couldn’t tell. You could smell burning wood accompanied by a familiar piney scent that you soon identified as Bucky, but you couldn’t open your eyes to confirm your theory. When you heard a deep voice laced with a Brooklyn accent from somewhere around you, you didn’t have to look at Bucky to know whose arms were protecting you.

“...Remember when we were in Queens and you made me go inside that old book store with you? We stayed there until they closed and you kept handing me books that would, “change your life, I swear it, Bucky.” I didn’t like reading much in the forties but I woulda stayed there with you for weeks if it meant I got to see that smile of yours every time you read something funny. I’ll take you back there but you gotta wake up first, alright?” Bucky’s words were soothing, and his soft voice gently lulled you back to sleep before you could answer his request.   

Bucky was talking again when you tried to wake up for a second time, 

“...Everything about you is perfect, doll, like how you always scrunch your nose when Sam’s cooking looks awful, but you eat it anyway with a smile on your face because you’re just happy he cared enough to make you something.” You wanted to smile for Bucky, open your mouth, say anything. But your head was still too heavy and you couldn’t break through the cloud of sleep that kept dragging you back under.

This time you could feel warmth running up and down your arms, as if someone was trying to coax you from sleep with their caring touch. You waited for Bucky to talk to you again, you found yourself needing his words to anchor you to consciousness.

“...You should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart, I coulda carried you, given you a little break. You know I would do just about anything for you right? Hell, I think everyone on this damn team thinks I’m weak when it comes to you. But you don’t make me weak, Y/n, you give me a reason to smile, you make me feel better about the world and like I’m not too broken to be a part of it…” You wanted to take Bucky’s face in your hands and tell him that he was not broken, that he was worth more than your words would ever mean. But it still seemed like too much work to open your eyes, so you kept them shut and let your mind slip back into sleep for a little longer. 

————————————————————————

Your skin felt like it was on fire, that was the first thing you noticed when you fully regained consciousness. Something heavy was laying across your stomach and there was a solid presence holding you that seemed to radiate the same amount of heat as the crackling fire in front of you. 

“Y/n? Doll? Thank God you’re finally awake, how’re you feeling?

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned to face Bucky and were met with a look of adoration in those blue eyes, which made you feel even worse for making him take care of you. 

“I’m sorry I messed the mission up, Barnes.” Even though your sight was still a little blurry you could make out the confusion in his face. Pushing some hair out of your face he asked, 

“You never call me Barnes, what’s up with that Y/n/n? And what are goin’ on about, “messing up the mission,” you didn’t do a damn thing wrong. If Megan and Nick had done their jobs as teammates you wouldn’t be in this situation. It’s my fault too ya know, I should've checked you over before I made you walk three miles. You looked a little tired when I first saw you but I think I tricked myself into believing you were safe, all I ever want is for you to be safe, Y/n.” You weren’t quite sure how to answer him, your brain felt like quicksand, trapping your thoughts from becoming words.

“And you never answered my question, Y/n, you feelin’ better?” You nodded slowly, during the time you had been asleep your body had slowly heated up, you had regained feeling in your limbs and your mind was feeling less foggy by the minute.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, Bucky. I mean, it’s not like I needed your help, I just wanted to sleep for a few minutes.” You attempted to lighten the mood by pushing out a laugh that sounded more like a light exhale. 

“There she is, that’s the girl I love.” You whipped your head back with such force that Bucky had to place his hand on your neck to prevent you from giving yourself whiplash. You stared into his eyes, determined to find out if he was really speaking the truth. 

“I do love you Y/n, I have from the minute I caught you smiling at Tony’s stupid gala. You’re perfect to me, in every possible way, from your smile to your soul.” Of course you felt the same way for him. Bucky was your best friend, he made you laugh and his heart and the care that he gave out freely never ceased to amaze you. You watched his lips turn into the most perfect smile  and you found yourself smiling twice as big knowing that there was no moment in your life more wonderful than this one. Right before you could respond a shiver ran through you and Bucky turned you around so you were facing the fireplace again. 

“Hey, Bucky?” you received a low hum and a kiss behind your ear in response. “You should really shower, you smell like an old barn.” He chuckled and replied, “Jeez, doll, I save your life and tell you that I love you, and all you do is tell me that I smell?” You could tell that Bucky knew you were teasing, but you didn’t feel like letting him off the hook quite yet. 

“I guess I love you too.” You mumbled with an obvious grin in your voice. 

“I know you do doll, I only wish you had said something sooner, then I woulda had more opportunities to torture you for makin’ fun of me.” With that, Bucky began to tickle your stomach, while still being wary of your injuries, earning an eruption of giggles from your mouth. After a few seconds Bucky pulled you back against him and whispered a soft, “sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” into your hair. Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt completely content, knowing you were safe in the arms of the man who loved you, and who you loved right back. 

[gingiesworld]

Family Ties (2/?)

Natasha Romanoff x Werewolf Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @natashasilverfox @the-ox-fan20 @purpleturtletragedy

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N looked up at the night sky, her father stood beside her with his hand resting on her shoulder. Explaining her whole existence and the clan.

"Once you turn, it will hurt at first but the more you do it, the easier it gets." He told her as he knelt down before her. "Now close your eyes and breathe." He told her, smiling as she followed his every word. "Deep breaths and feel the change." He stepped back as soon as he heard bones starting to crack and crunch. He smiled as he watched her turn for the first time.

Soon he stood before a white wolf before he turned himself. Gesturing for her to follow him into the woods. Y/N had felt free for the first time, the wind running through her fur as she ran at a high speed. The feeling of the earth beneath the pads of her paws. The way her claws would dig in the soft dirt with every step. Soon the two stood on a ledge, looking out at the horizon as the moon shone brightly.

Nat had remained in her seat, reading more information on what they had retrieved from Hydra. Seeing that the girl who lay unconscious was indeed a part of an experiment. Just as she started to read over Y/N's blood work from Hydra, Y/N had started to wake. Jumping up as she never recognised the room.

"Hey." Nat spoke softly as Y/N looked at her. "It's ok. You're safe now." She told her as she approached with her hands in front of her. "I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"Y/N Selene." She muttered as she was backed into a corner. "Please don't hurt me." She whimpered as Nat knelt before her with a tender smile on her face.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Nat told her tenderly. "I just want to help you."

"I don't want to go back there." Y/N whispered as Nat shook her head.

"You won't ever go back there. Never again." She told her firmly. "Let me help you back on the bed." Nat held out a hand which Y/N hesitantly took, sitting on the bed before Wanda came bursting inside.

"Hi, I'm Wanda." She greeted as she placed the folded clothes down. "Nat gave me these when I first arrived here before she took me shopping. Her taste isn't really for me but maybe you can use them until then."

"Thank you." Y/N smiled at her gratefully before she turned to Nat.

"Wanda is another member of the team here, whenever you're ready you can meet the rest." Nat told her softly as Wanda observed the two.

"I think maybe leave it for now." Y/N told her. "I just, I don't know how much you guys know about me."

"We know that you are a werewolf." Nat told her as she took a seat. Wanda made sure to lock the door to stop any unexpected guests from entering the room. "And your family has been looking for you, going back over a decade."

"I was 12 when they took me." Y/N informed her. "I have been with them for years and they wanted to learn about us, my clan and what we can do."

"It's ok, no one is going to expect anything of you here." Wanda told her. "We understand how awful Hydra can be, I was an experiment at the Sokovia base." Wanda leaned on the wall. "Well, I volunteered thinking that they would help our country, stop the war that was going on at the time."

"Bottom line is that Hydra is the enemy." Nat stated as she cut off Wanda, seeing how Y/N looked at her curiously. "But here, the Avengers will help you, we can help you train and get adjusted to the real world and maybe find your family."

"You can't be serious?!" Tony yelled. "She needs to be locked up!"

"She doesn't." Steve started.

"She is a werewolf. What do we even know about them? Are they unpredictable? Dangerous? Deadly?" Tony cut him off.

"Hey! Just cut her some slack." Bucky told him. "I was Hydra's weapon for decades. Wanda too. Nat was with the Red Room and a double agent. We all proved trustworthy and weren't thrown in a cell. Let's just give her a chance."

"Maybe the girls can start with her?" Clint suggested. "She might be more comfortable opening up to Nat and Wanda."

"Where are the girls?" Steve questioned.

"They are both with the patient." Vision informed them.

"That's good." Steve nodded.

"Nat stayed with her all night." Bruce stated as Tony scoffed as he walked away.

"Then it is settled, we will leave her in the hands of Nat and Wanda. Besides, they're scary enough that none of us will even question it." Steve stated as everyone agreed. Only Tony went straight to Bruce's lab to steal the blood work to do some research of his own, even using the intel he had retrieved from the base.

Wanda was showing Y/N her powers, lifting some objects up and making them float around the room.

"That's so cool." Y/N smiled as she watched the red magic dance around Wanda's fingertips.

"I've not long learned how to control it." Wanda told her. "Nat and Steve helped me a lot."

"I don't want to change." Y/N confessed as the two girls gazed at her. "They made me change every day, multiple times a day." She started to play with her fingers. "They drugged me, aconitine."

"Wolfsbane." Nat stated as Y/N nodded.

"I used to love changing before they captured me. It was freeing back then but then they wanted me to do it all the time." Y/N told them. "But now, I hate it. You would think it would be easier, less painful but it just, the aconitine was making everything hurt worse than it should."

"What happens when you change?" Nat questioned softly as Y/N wiped her eyes.

"My bones break and morph into a canine skeleton." Y/N told her. "It can be painful but with aconitine, it makes it so much worse."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." Nat spoke tenderly. "But we wouldn't force you to do anything you don't want to." Nat noticed that Steve was standing outside, gesturing for her to talk. "I'll be back in a moment." Both Wanda and Y/N watched as she left the room, closing the door behind her. "What is it Steve?"

"Tony is stating that she needs to be put in a cell." Steve told her.

"Y/N is not going in a cell." She snarled as Steve raised his hands before him.

"We all went against him, but he won't give her a room." Steve told her.

"She can bunk with me." She shrugged as Steve smiled at her.

"You really have taken to her haven't you?" He questioned.

"She is just like the rest of us." Nat told him. "She has been through a lot and we need to help her like we helped each other."

"We will help her." Steve told her. "Tony is the only one we need to worry about."

"She won't turn." Nat told him. "Something they forced her to do everyday in Hydra."

"Well, she is safe here." He told her.

"What if we help her find her family?" Nat asked him as he folded his arms.

"I don't think Tony would allow us." He told her.

"We can maybe ask Fury or Maria for help." She suggested. "We don't always have to go through Stark."

"You're right." He nodded. "I'll arrange a meeting with Fury." He started to walk away. "What's her name?"

"Y/N Selene." She told him before turning back and re-entering the room.

"That was about me wasn't it?" Y/N asked as both she and Wanda watched her approach.

"It was." Nat nodded. "You're going to be bunking with me for the time being, and we are going to try and help find your family."

"Thank you." Y/N whispered as Nat gave her a small smile before she picked up the files.

"Well, I think we should have a movie night." Wanda clapped excitedly before she went on to talk about possible options.

"Don't worry, it's just that you are the closest to her in age and I think it's something that she needs." Nat whispered as the two watched Wanda with amused smiles.

"Well, I could do with a friend here too." Y/N replied as Nat smiled wider as she nodded.

The night went as expected, the three girls had moved into Nat's room as Wanda brought all of the snacks. Y/N just looked at the bed and the floor.

"You can sleep in the bed with me." Nat told her softly. "I don't mind sharing, hell I had Wanda come in here in the middle of the night when she first moved here."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Y/N whispered in a small voice.

"You won't make me uncomfortable." Nat told her. "Now get comfy." She watched as Y/N hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed. Reluctant to move further up the bed as though it would hurt her.

"I haven't slept in a bed in over a decade." Y/N told her. "Well, that's how long I think it is." Y/N turned to her. "I guess when you're strung up like a rabid animal, your perception of time becomes non-existent."

"You won't ever have to go through that again Y/N." Nat told her as she sat beside her. "I promise you." Nat opened her arms slightly. "Can I hug you?" Y/N only nodded as she melted into Nat's embrace. Little did they know that in that moment, they had become tethored. Destined to be one.

"So you want to use SHIELD resources to look for these people?" Fury questioned. "Why not just use what you have at the tower?"

"I can't trust that Tony jeopardizes our search." Steve told him before explaining the whole situation.

"I can understand how he feels." Fury told him.

"We didn't lock Wanda up when she joined, or Bucky." Steve reminded him. "And the two of them actually tried to kill a majority of us when they worked with Hydra."

"That isn't the point, Y/N is a werewolf." Fury stated.

"Wanda is a witch and Bucky is a super soldier." Steve countered.

"Ok." Fury sighed as he rubbed his brow. "Make sure she isn't a danger to herself or any of you."

"Nat and Wanda are with her, helping her settle in." Steve informed him. "I figured it would be easier on Y/N."

"Good, I'll have Maria do the search and she will contact either you or Romanoff directly." Fury told him. "Until then, try and get her on a training schedule too, just in case we don't find her family, she could be an asset to the team." He waved Steve out the door which Steve thanked him before leaving the base.

[theeoriginals]

soft touches

summary: after a rough night, joel miller proves that he is soft in his own way

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of y/n)

a/n: absolutely no one asked for this but here i am, pining over a man that's old enough to be my father. also yea i think we all saw the joel/tess scene in the first episode and went a little insane

warnings: mentions of violence, tlou spoilers (i guess ?), i have not played the game so this is purely based off of the show. angst, but mostly just yearning and soft thoughts mentions of tess, but this kind of exists outside of canon so it doesn't really matter

It was supposed to just be a simple trade, but lately, everyone in the QZ has been on edge. It's not all that surprising that they try to ambush her, but after living this life for so long, she's never unprepared.

Even with her over preparedness, she doesn't manage to get out of the fight scrape-free, and she almost dreads going home for a second before she sucks it up and begins the trek through the abandoned buildings and dank alleyways. It's dark now, luckily, and it had rained until the sun went down, so her boots are practically caked in mud when she finally reaches her building.

Like every time she makes it back safely, in mostly one piece, she spares a silent thanks to whoever's listening that kept her from getting busted by a FEDRA agent. For the most part, they knew who she was because of Joel, and they left her alone in fear of him cutting their supply off, but there was always a straggler that wanted to prove a point. Even after 20 years of this, FEDRA agents still tried to pull ridiculous power plays.

She uses the edge of a stair to scrape a majority of the mud off of her boots before she stomps her way up to the old apartment, announcing her presence to the man most likely waiting up for her.

There's little fanfare when she opens the door and forces her boots off her feet, and the dim light provided by the lanterns and candles cast shadows over her face until she stands upright.

Unconciously, a smile pulls at her lips when she sees the familiar face sitting before her, and she sees the barest hints of relief on his face up until he sees the dried blood on the corner of her mouth, and the bruise already forming beneath her eye.

"Joel..."

He barely lets her get his name out before he's in front of her, hands gently turning her face to examine the extent of the damage. "What happened?"

She sighs, attempting to shake him off. "Joel, I'm fine,"

"You don't look fine,"

"Oh, thank you," She huffs. "You really know how to flatter a girl."

Joel gives her a deadpan look, entirely unamused at her sarcasm. Heaving another sigh, she brings a hand to cover his where it lays on the curve of her jaw. "Tell me what happened."

"I went to go meet the guy like I told you, and he tried to get away with everything. I guess he thought I was just some messenger, so he tried to rough me up. Obviously it didn't work, because I'm fine."

"And him?"

"Well, I don't think he'll be leaving that building without some help."

A distant gleam of humor glimmers in Joel's honey-colored eyes, but his relief of her wellbeing takes over whatever pride he may feel at her handling the situation with what was most likely a show of explosive violence.

Gesturing to one of two chairs at the lopsided kitchen table, he pushes her towards it and she takes a seat, eyes watching as he grabs the bottle of whiskey off the top of the fridge and an old rag that would probably have to be thrown out soon.

He pulls up the other chair in front of her and she scoots forward so her knees slot in between his legs, and Joel mutters something unintelligible as he douses the rag in the whiskey and lifts it to her split lip.

"Might hurt," Is all the warning she gets before he swipes it along the skin and she jerks at the initial touch, eventually settling and letting the faint stinging become a faint sensation in the back of her mind.

When he moves on from her lip, swiping across the dried blood from a scrape on her cheekbone, she looks at him with exhaustion suddenly setting into her bones.

"I got the ration cards, by the way,"

He stops briefly, eyes flicking down to her mouth before he looks back up into her eyes. "What?"

"I didn't let him get away with the ration cards like he tried," She supplies, seeing the words process in his mind.

Joel blinks slowly, pulling away from her slightly before he shakes off whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. "Stubborn girl,"

A smile pulls at her lips and closes her left eye, letting him poke and prod at the swelling with minimal wincing. "It worked out in our favor, though, huh? We'll be eating good for a week straight, baby,"

Joel huffs out a breath, giving her an exasperated look as he finally sets the rag down on the table. "You're lucky it wasn't more than one guy."

"Right, 'cause I'm obviously on my deathbed. I'm a frail, weak little girl who can't fight or–"

"Alright, smartass," He covers her mouth with his hand, cutting her off with a stern look she dutifully ignores. "Next time I'm coming with you."

Pushing his hand off her mouth, she rolls her eyes. "I doubt there will be a next time. Most people don't do business after you break a chair over their back, but you know what? We can certainly try."

"You broke a chair–"

"Who did what isn't important," She stands from the chair, shucking her jacket off as she walks back towards the bed. "What is important is I'm home now, and it's my turn to keep watch, so–"

"Go lay down."

She pauses, jacket sleeves still stuck halfway down her arms as she turns to look at him. "What?"

He points to the old mattress, giving her a look like she was crazy for thinking she would be doing anything else. "Bed."

"Right... but you heard me just now, when I said it was my night to watch the radio?"

He nods slowly, still looking at her like she was stupid. He had a way of doing that, a look that she sometimes thought was just for her, because it wasn't like the other times he looked at people like they were stupid. This one at least had some warmth behind it, but then again, she always thought Joel was warm. Tess had called her delusional more than once, but everyone was a little delusional in their own way, especially in the world they lived in now.

"Yeah," He shrugs, still watching her. "But that was before you came back here looking like you got your ass beat. So now you're going to sleep, and I'll keep watch."

And– he'd kind of just insulted her again, but there was unwavering concern and fondness in his words, so she knew it was useless to try and argue. He was stubborn at the best of times, and completely unbearable at the worst, and she knew that Joel Miller was a man used to getting his way, one way or another.

So, she shrugs her jacket off the rest of the way and practically falls into the bed, her exhaustion catching up with her with the sudden permission to sleep.

Minutes pass in silence as her eyes grow heavier, and in the last moments of consciousness, she hears the creaking floorboards shift under his boots as he walks over to her.

A calloused palm rests on her cheek and she hums lowly, unable to keep her eyes open as she leans into the touch. "Joel,"

"Go to sleep, honey." His voice is low and gravelly, and it's the last thing she hears as she slips into the escape of the dreaming world.

The last thing she feels is the press of his lips on her forehead, and she has the fleeting thought that yes, she may be a little delusional when it came to Joel, but she wasn't that far out of reach with her thoughts. Not when he treated her like she was this soft, breakable thing that deserved nothing but soft touches.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 2 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤ and Illustration credit to @boredth ❤️

Original Post Part 1

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

Johnwickb1tsch:

As it turns out, faking your death involves taking some very gnarly photos with copious amounts of blood spread about. They will be released to the dark web, as well as the Underground network. John and Tex will get paid for a job well done. The FBI will receive the intelligence in due time, mixed with finding your blood and hair and skin at the scene. And once they off Dmitri, the man you witnessed killing the owner of the restaurant you used to work at, there will be no one left to care but Agent Bradford.

If he survives his wounds.

John and Tex are still perplexed about that one. He must be a tough bastard, but getting shot up even with a vest on would slow anyone down. Not to mention his blown out knee…

When next you wake you know you’re in a different location, even through your blindfold. Your hands are bound again, this time over your head. It feels like you’re laying on a soft surface, a mattress, and not a cheap one. You debate the merits of pretending to still be knocked out, or screaming your head off for help, when you hear, “Looks like sleepin’ beauty’s awake.”

From your other side there is silence, but you feel gentle fingers touching a lock of your hair. It sends a forbidden trill of desire through you, straight to your loins, and for the umpteenth time you wonder what exactly is wrong with you that you don’t 100 percent hate this the way you should.   

Fuck.

“Please let me go.” Your words are raspy; your throat is dry as a desert. How long have you been out?

“We have to talk about that,” says Tex. “See, there’s a whole lot gonna be ridin’ on you.” You can just hear his shit-eating grin for his double-entendre.  

“You’re a pig.”

“Aww, don’t be shy, darlin’. What did you think we were goin; to get up to when you got in my car? Playin’ pinochle? You wanted me, and I reckon’ that hasn’t changed.” You feel a rough hand sliding up your thigh that must belong to him. You try to buck him off, and find your legs aren’t bound. You try to kick towards the sound of his voice, but your limbs are heavy, and he catches your ankle.

“Boy howdy, someone’s flexible!”

He has you in an iron grip, and you give a frustrated scream.

“Don’t hurt her,” says the other one, in that quietly forbidding tone.

“Was I supposed to let her kick my head off?”

“Fine by me.”

Tex snorts in response, squeezing your leg in his big hand, just to give you a taste. You feel your bones creak beneath his grip.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

The whimper escapes you before you realise it. He doesn't hurt you yet, but the looming threat could not have been more explicit.

You utterly hate the helplessness, and the feeling of being trapped like this does not help.

"Tex..." The icy warning in his tone makes you gulp down and suppress another whimper.

"Loosen-up John, I'm not hurtin' her." You feel tge 'yet' is silent but hanging in the air.

Right, the other man's name- John. It slipped your mind before.

You feel the bed shift beside you before the warmth of the other body goes missing. You strain your ears, trying to guess what he is doing. When something touches your lips, you jump slightly, only to feel a large hand on your shoulder-- gentle and warm.

"It's just a straw. Try sipping through it."

John's voice is reassuring, soft even-- a stark contrast to the tone he used on Tex, whose fingers are still wrapped around your ankle. Much to your relief, John unlocks your hands from above your head, letting them rest on your front. You are disappointed when you realise that they're still bound, though. He helps you sit up a bit, adjusting pillows behind, before you feel the straw poking on your lips again. Taking the hint, you wrap your lips around it and sip the water eagerly.

You were parched, you realise.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

They take the blindfold off, and the world swims for a bit. You can barely keep your eyes open and your voice is soggy and slow. Once you come up for air, you realize you’re laying in a big bed with some kind of soft restraint holding your wrists together. Tex is sitting with you - he’s got your trouble making legs pulled into his lap, securing them.

You don’t bother fighting again, mostly because it feels like your arms and legs are made of sandbags. Everything is dull, blunted. Feels like you’re deep inside the dark, squishy confines of your brain, unable to break surface. You watch as John checks his phone, then looks up.

“Dimitri wants to meet.” It’s like he teleports out of the chair, gives you whiplash. He’s fast. He discards his shirt and jacket, replaces the bulletproof vest and gives you a perfect view of a scarred, tattooed, broad torso.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Close your jaw, honey, or else you’ll start drooling.” This from Tex, who you try to kill with a glare. He seems highly amused. You look away from John quickly, not even realizing you were starring so blatantly. Your body fills with different types of heat, ones that are much harder to hide the effects of under the heavy drugs clouding your judgement.

“He wants both of us?” Tex asks.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Tex, c’mon.” John drapes his suit jacket back on, pulls his Glock and does something with one big hand that makes it click and shift - you're starring again.

“Yeah.”

Tex whistles low, brushes some sticky hair off your neck and makes you flinch. “Dimitri’s grown some big cojones.”

John throws a spare vest at him. “Get. Ready.”

Tex rolls his eyes. “You can handle it, Wick. Lemme stay here and give this sore little girl a massage.” He knuckles into your calves, and you groan louder than you want to, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. It feels way too nice, because he’s right, you are sore.

“Tex.”

Your masseuse complies, makes a show for you - chest, muscles, masculine energy overly potent. You really do try not to watch, but it’s so hard, especially while Tex has that shit eating grin plastered to his face. And then there’s the weapon work, too. You’re not a fan of guns or knives, but seeing them handle and prep them, tuck them into straps and belts, it invokes carnal desire.

They’re going to leave you here again, alone, and you hate that, but what else can you do besides watch them go with a pathetic, doped up look on your face?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

They leave with the bedroom door locked, windows shut, and the room quiet.

Bizzarely enough, their absence bothers you. A strange silence hangs heavy in the air. You realise it eventually that it is the aftermath of the rollercoaster day.

In the silence, you finally break. Sobs break out with tears and snoot. You are really in a mess that is deep enough to have your life on the rocks, finely balanced by the intention of the two men who simply plucked you out of your life, your potential safety net and...That is tge scary part-- you are still unsure of their intentions.

You know that the smartest thing you can do is to adapt to the situation, but with the great powerr imbalance and unpredictable circumstances, every breath seems to be a nearing step towards death. You are not an optimist - never were - you cannot say that you are absolutely in love with your life, but you want to live. Your life before the mess was no fairytake-- an average life of an average girl, average problems that weighed you down. Now, when you think of it, you might even really fall in love with your average monotonous life only if you manage to somehow get out of the situation.

You try the windows and doors, although you know in your heart that they're no amateurs. They are seasoned professionals-- they took on Bradford with ease, the same Bradford you have seen handling four people with ease.

Bradford...

He is yiyr last hope. You are convinced that sooner or later, you will go crazy here. Who finds their captives attractive?

Embarrassed, you shut your eyes and sigh. You still feel pretty fuzzy, and the bed indeed is comfortable. With a defeated walk back to the bed, you slip under the covers, sleep is your only escape route for now.

Johnwickb1tsch:

It feels like an eternity, by the time they finally return. They look fierce but weary, exhausted from a long night, but their eyes are bright from the excitement of a battle. They both have splatters of blood on their faces—you doubt much, if any of it, belongs to them.

With wide eyes you watch as they start to shed their gear: the cluster of guns and knives that accumulates on the table is dizzying. If you could just get to one of those weapons…

Tex follows your gaze with a devilish smile. “Know how to use one of these, darlin’?”

“Aw. Is that any way to talk to the man who just removed the gangster boss who wants you dead from the face of the earth?”

(Thank u @boredth ❤️!!!)

“It can’t be that hard, if you manage it,” you snipe, straining against your wrist restraint for the umpteenth time that night. Or is it morning? You just don’t know.

This does perk your interest a little, though you’re almost loathe to show it. “You…killed Dmitri?” If it’s true…good riddance, then.

“Boy howdy. In fact, your buddy John here went a little trigger happy, and I’m pretty sure he wiped out the whole goddamn bratva. Everyone that was there, anyway.”

You blink, looking to the man in the dark suit for confirmation. He, however, is looking at something fixedly on his gun, not ready to crow his own praises.

Your heart is in your throat as you dare ask, “What…does this mean?”

However, Tex grins at you like a wolf to a sheep, and you do not feel safe, at all.

(By @boredth ❤️❤️❤️!)

“It means you should be safe.” John’s voice is deep, matter of fact. You get the sense that he really doesn’t use his voice much.

“Does that mean…you’ll let me go?”

“Eventually,” Tex answers. “If you’re a good girl.”

You swallow hard at hearing that.

John doesn’t contradict his partner, his intense dark gaze fixed on you. “You can have my half of the bounty.”

Tex’s head whips towards John. “You’re gonna give her 2.5 million dollars?”

“To start her new life,” John says, still looking at you. “In a different country, if she’s smart.”

Tex whistles at hearing that. “I like you, honey, but I’m not sure I like you that much.”

You, however, see exactly what John is doing. He’s giving you a reason to live. A reason to obey, a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise that if you can endure whatever they have in mind…you’ll not just get your life back. You’ll get…something better than your blue-collar working-class self could have ever dreamed of.

If only it didn’t make you feel like such a whore.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You feel pretty stupid, to be honest. So, so stupid for fighting them. But, if they would have just told you - took the time to really explain what was going on - no, you’re pretty sure you’re the asshole here. Maybe?

You’re distracted - a frequent event with these two around. And now they’re covered in blood and grime and sweat from protecting you and the vague, whorish thought crosses your mind that maybe they wouldn’t mind getting their cocks sucked after that long, hard night of being your heroes.

Still, that’s exactly what you feel like - a pathetic whore. And you want to bury your head into a pillow and smother yourself. You look, eyes set and determined, at John. “You don’t have to do that.”

For the first time, a little grin cracks the side of his mouth. He’s devastatingly handsome, this deadly man. “I won’t take no for an answer.” Is his simple reply.

Tex shakes his head, chuckles, cuts in to the intense eye contact John is pinning you to the bed with. “Gonna have to stay with us - one of us - for a while though, darlin’. We gotta make sure that pretty neck is off the chopping block.”

That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Sounds like your libido is about to get a lesson it won’t soon forget. Sounds like you’re gonna be constantly on more edge than one the entire time you have to be with them. Sounds like you’re gonna have your hand in your panties a couple times a day and still come out unsatisfied.

Your voice - scratchy and timid. “Do I have to stay tied up the entire time?”

John swipes a knife off the table, walks over to you, grabs your restraints, tugging your arms up and slicing through the leather holding them together. Your heavy limbs go to fall, but he catches both your wrists in one one - oh, his pretty, stocky hands really are big - then lowers them to your lap gently and tucks the blade back into his waist. “Are you hungry?” That’s it? No threats? No intimidation? Why are you actually a little disappointed? But , god, your stomach comes to life at the mention of a meal. Must have been a while since you’ve eaten. You answer him honestly, “yes.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

What a devil’s bargain.

You think it bold of John, to untie your hands, with all those weapons at hand.

But then, what would you really do with them, against these two trained killers?

The smarter path to survival lays down a darker road, and goddammit if as you look between them, you don’t feel some small thrill of anticipation.  

John has gone off somewhere to get you food, leaving you alone with Tex, who has stripped off his bloody shirt, his flak vest, then his undershirt. You’re not shy about staring this time, taking in the breadth of his bare chest and his toned arms. What’s the point in being shy now?

Tex smirks at your blatant appraisal of his powerful body. “My eyes are up here, darlin’.”

You huff and look away, crossing your arms. “You are such an asshole.”  Your belly has begun to rumble, audibly now. It’s a little embarrassing.

However, a second later he has crossed the room to you, claiming your attention again with a calloused hand on your jaw, directing your eyes up to him. He doesn’t say anything, just pins you with those dark orbs, and like stumbling on a predator in the woods you dare not try to look away. Maybe he hides it with his aw shucks demeanor, but this man is just as dangerous as the other, and a cold chill runs down your spine as you wonder if he’s about to prove it to you.

You couldn’t be more relieved, than when John comes through the door with a paper plate of food and a plastic cup of what you hope is water.

Tex smiles down at you, the warmth returning to his eyes. He pats your cheek just this side of too hard, making you wince. You can tell John doesn’t like it, that Tex touches you this way, but it’s not quite enough to yell at him for.

You wonder how these two extremely dangerous men, who for all the world seem like opposites of each other, are going to manage this situation without killing each other.

Could you get so lucky?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"You have somethin' in your head 'bout the road ahead?"

While you busy yourself with the meal, you keep your ears on the discussion regarding the road ahead. Keeping your eyes on the plate, you try to appear as disinterested as possible-- in reality, though, you want to know everything they have planned. John has been exceptionally kind to you, Tex is an asshole but has been tolerable until now. They promised to let you go and allow you to start anew. But you can't trust them just yet...

There's silence from John's end before you feel his eyes on you. You try to resist the urge to look up, but your eyes just have to glance up before you can force them to remain on the plate. They lock with John's unreadable gaze immediately, and you blink. It's unfair - you feel like he is reading into your soul while you are not able to decipher a single thought that runs in his mind. Even now, he appears to be an indecipherable abyss to you-- you know it's deep and dark, but find no hint of what is in there. You feel that there is a lot in there, though.

It is John who breaks eye contact, turning to Tex.

"Let's talk over a drink."

He offers, and with that, they both are out of the room. They shut the door behind, and you hear the distinct click of the lock.

What are they planning?

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Why do they keep leaving you? It’s starting to get really, really annoying. However, while they’re gone, it gives you a chance to take a shower and get cleaned up a little bit. This placed is obviously lived in. The sheets have a faint smell of some woodsy cologne and laundry soap and sweat, the shower has half empty shampoo and soap bottles, the counter has scattered, used toiletries.

Your old clothes are covered in dirt, and probably minuscule flecks of blood and other gross body fluids, so you turn your nose up at them and dig through the closet instead. T-shirts, jeans, boxers - men’s clothing. At least it’s clean and it smells good. You pull on a pair of plain grey boxers and then a black, draping T-shirt, feeling kind of like you’re wearing your dads clothes like when you were six years old and playing dress up.

A pair of black, thick socks completes your look. You’re comfortable, now, to go around the room and stretch a little bit. You still kind of feel too jiggly to properly function, but some back cracking and shoulder rolling doesn’t take too much out of you.

They locked the weapons away in a dresser by the closet, went out still covered in blood. Bold move. Cocky. Daring anyone to say something to them at this very moment, probably.

But, they’re back faster than you think they will be. Outside the door. Loud. Tex is at twice his usual volume, hooting and hollering. “I really do think you’re a bad motherfucker.”

John answers, something lighter perking his usually monotone voice. “Not so bad yourself, Tex.”

They’re getting along it seems, which you’re not sure is good for you. The door unlocks, clicks open, and you can immediately tell that Tex is drunk. He’s boisterous, holding John by the shoulders, laughing, face reddened, and - the biggest tell - he’s got an open whiskey bottle in one hand.

John is smiling, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. His face is a bit mottled, too. Are they both drunk? Your annoyance spikes. They could have at least offered you some after the shit you’ve gone through.

You perch on the bed, glaring at them. You get more than you bargained for when they both look at you. Their eyes do the same thing in unison - narrow and blow, go hungry and honed. The only difference in the way they stare at you is Tex’s lopsided grin. You feel like quarry again, and it makes you cross your arms and fold your legs into yourself.

Tex leans into John’s ear, voice low and almost taunting. “Those your clothes, Johnny?”

John keeps his eyes right on you. “Yeah.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Hey, who said you could wear Johnny's clothes?" banters Tex, approaching you with a swinging gait, the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

You glance to John, who is watching your interaction interestedly, but makes no move to intervene.

"I said," you answer with narrowed eyes, tracking the motion of the bottle. It could be a weapon, or a gesture of friendship, all depending on the context. When Tex extends it to you in offering, you're a little relieved. And, a little thirsty, truth be told. Who knows if its a good idea, mixing alcohol and whatever drug they gave you earlier, but...you're being held captive by two dangerous mafia assassins. You need something to take off the edge.

You reach for the bottle, and almost grasp it, but Tex pulls back at the last second. "Make you a trade, honey."

"Imagine that."

"You can have a drink, if you take somethin' off."

Of course.

Cheekily, you start with your big black socks, throwing them at Tex one after the other.

John smirks as Tex play scowls, but true to his word he hands you the bottle. You take a pull--and immediately wince. Whiskey is such a foul spirit, as spirits go.

Tex chuckles. "Need it in a silver cup with a mint sprig, baby girl?"

A mint julep does sound pretty fucking good about now. If only he was serious.

"I'll live." You reach for the bottle again, but he holds it over your head.

"Nuh uh. It'll cost you more clothing."

In the back of your head, you almost find it interesting, how he engages your complicity in this cat and mouse game.

"Two socks, two drinks. Pay up, cowboy."

He tries to give you a hard look for that, but his eyes glitter with mirth.

"Fair's fair, Tex," nudges John, and Tex just gives a theatrical sigh, extending the bottle again.

"Diabolical woman, drinkin all my hooch."

You salute him with the bottle before taking another pull, longer this time. It should help you stomach...whatever it is they're about to do to you.

You hand back the bottle, and you wait. So does Tex, staring at you expectantly. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question of what?

He extends the bottle again with a pout of full lips that should be absolutely ridiculous on a grown ass man, but somehow is actually cute?

"I'm comfortable, thank you."

John snorts with laughter behind Tex, earning a glare.

"You gonna watch, or you gonna help? I swear, this is the damndest woman I've ever met..."

When John makes his way towards you, his steps silent and graceful as a leopard on the prowl--your heart sinks a little.

When he reaches for you, you recoil, but there's no escape. There's just his hand in your hair, holding you fast, and then his lips on yours.

The latter takes you by surprise, really.

His lips are soft, but exacting. He claims your mouth in a sweeping kiss, and when he pulls away he leaves you breathless, like he has utterly snogged you senseless. When fingers clasp the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards, it doesn't even occur to you to fight, until its halfway over your head.

Suddenly you are bare from the waist up, and you cant help but give a little scream, your hands flying to cover yourself.

The whisky is definitely not helping yet, and you begin to tremble incontrollably.

"Aw, I think she's cold, Johnny boy."

John reaches out to soothe you, petting your hair. "You're beautiful," he tells you.

You don't understand how his look can be soft, yet predatory, all at the same time.

"Ain't he a gentleman?" drawls Tex with a roll of eyes, taking another pull off his bottle.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"Fuck off!"

That is your first response as you reach to snatch back the shirt. Despite getting a hold on it, John does not let go.

"Give it back to me!" You grit out--- the situation is suddenly not playful anymore.

Your gut has been right about John all along, you realise, as you glare back at him. There is a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes that has you making an effort to suppress tears. You hate being powerless, vulnerable, exposed.

In this situation, unfortunately, you are all three.

"How about a deal---"

"No! C'mon! It was gettin' fun." Tex groans earning a glare from you, which he returns with a hungry gaze.

"How about a deal..." John continues.

Your eyes return to the man who still has an iron hold on your (his) shirt. Your arms covering your modesty turn tighter around yourself as you narrow your eyes at him.

"I let you have this shirt, and you sleep with one of us."

"Just sleeping, right?"

John smirked, "Sleeping."

That does not sound very reassuring.

You wanted to demand that he promise, but looking at your position, you realise that you have no upper hand here. The power imbalance is glaring at you in he form of your naked upper half.

"We'll take rounds."

Tex spoke, his heavy hand splayed on your lower back, sliding along your spine, only to leave trails of goosebumps. You somehow contain yourself from arching your back. The tingles that arise are not helpful either.

"Y--you meant every night?" Your surprised gaze meets John's amused one as he nods.

"I'm not doing this every night."

You hiss out before you think and regret it immediately as the part of the shirt on your hold is snatched away by John, you wish to reach out, but you can't and you are almost certain that you see a flash of disappointment in John's eyes when you do not move your arms.

"Forget the shirt then." Tex chuckles out from behind you as his palm slides around your waist and rests on your bare stomach. The implication is clear and you gulp.

Not just gulp, you gulp down your pride and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grit out.

You eye the shirt in John's hold, expecting him to give it back to you. But he keeps it out of reach.

"Take it."

Bastard!

"Not funny, John, give me the shirt."

"I won't move it away, I promise." Despite how gentle he sounds, his malicious intent is no longer hidden.

"Reach out and take it."

Tex sounds much closer, the smell of whiskey now prominent as his breath tickles your neck. His hold on you tightens, preventing you from moving your body forward.

No, you were wrong. They are anything but good.

At this moment, you sure wish for Bradford to kick their asses-- which are nice to look at--- Wait!

What the hell is wrong with you?

Adjusting one arm to cover yourself properly, you reach out for the t-shirt, and as promised, John makes no move to snatched it away again. His heavy gaze, though, flicks down for a moment before his eyes meet yours once more. This time, they have in them a heavy heat that burns through you. It's the kind of burn that a woman wishes to see in her man's eyes, and it would have been flattering and swoon-worthy if not for the situation you are in. Half-naked, trapped between two very dangerous, very handsome, but morally dark men.

You feel the heat on your cheeks and neck as you try to slip back the shirt. With a disappointed sigh, Tex removes his hold, and you heave a sigh of relief while quickly slipping your shirt back on.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You have this strange, awful feeling that your captor-saviors have made some kind of bet or deal of their own - one that you have been blindly excluded from. You go from being thankful to hating them again. It’s giving you whiplash.

Tex yawns, and bombs down on the bed behind you, making you yelp and jump. “Speaking of sleeping, I’m exhausted.”

“Thought I was first?” John doesn’t sound humored. It reminds you of the fact that he’s drunk, that little pout in his voice like he’s disappointed. So, they did plan this, then. Angry fire blazes your insides.

“How bout we let y/n decide who’s first,” Tex reasons, never taking his hooded eyes off you - never dropping that sharp, horrifying, infuriating, promising grin from his mouth. He takes another chug of whiskey.

They both look at you expectantly, and you have never felt tinier. A fly staring at two huge spiders. You try to glare back, maybe keep some of your self esteem intact.

“Well?” John asks, tipping his head at you.

You’re so tired of playing these stupid little games with them. You’re so tired of being the rat in their maze. You’re so tired of hiding and running and lying belly up. You fix John with a hard gaze - for some reason, it’s much, much harder to do that with him than with Tex - and say, “I don’t want to sleep with either of you. Fucking creeps.” You get off the bed, stand up, hands on your hips, expecting Tex to look surprised instead of filled with gleeful delight - to your dismay, his smile is wider as he watches this adorable attempt at dominance.

“And if you touch me again, I’ll do worse than bite you.” You eye John’s gnarly, bruised hand, trying not to feel bad about it. Trying not to think with your vagina anymore. She’s still there though, tugging at you, a little thrill tensing her up - the reward for your bold behavior.

John’s on you, hand on your throat - not pushing or squeezing, just resting there. He bullies you back. You try to hit him, but he swats your hand away like it’s a stray hair tickling his face. When he presses you into the wall, you’re terrified - shaking, trifling, owl eyed. You expect him to be scowling at you - you wish he was scowling at you - but his grin mirrors Tex’s. That grin could send a pack of wolves running tail between legs.

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, soothing voice such sharp contrast to the way he handles you and the hellish look on his face. It actually helps your nerves, quells some of that tremble originating from primal fear. “You’re okay.”

You press your palms up against the wall and they slip down, drenched with cold sweat. john has taken up your orbit entirely, so you’re shocked to see Tex suddenly at his side, helping him cage you against the wall.

“You’re okay,” John says again, titling your chin back to only him. For some reason, a part of you believes him - probably your stupid fucking vagina again.

“Why?” You ask, voice cracked and small, all your valiance gone.

“Atonement,” Tex drawls.

[sssammich]

the romance of an alternate universe

to think that you can imagine a different world so easily beyond this one, if only to pacify, if only to forget. the bittersweetness of your joy in another world where little currently exists here. the longing that doesn't come away empty handed because there, she likes you, trusts you, has no reason to ever question years of friendship and the traces of more.

you only have the one life here, in this one, in this universe, in this timeline, in this moment and that's all.

but the possibility in others, even in just one other, is enough to make you hope that things here will eventually blow over better for you.

knowing the existence of alternate universes, having traveled to them, aches inside your chest because there, your dreams are real. there, your heartbreak is soothed. there, she does not regard you with hatred, disdain, anger, disappointment, heartbreak. there, you did not commit mistake after mistake, each one chained to one another until in the end, you come away with cuffs that lock you, an imprisonment of your own design.

maybe you consider moving to an alternate universe, weighing to suffer the consequences of your choice there instead of here. because it beats being here, it beats having ruin and ashes as the world you live in now.

your friends and family won't understand. they can't understand. all your good intentions remain good, but your impact have been nothing but disastrous.

certainly the rogue alien pummeling you into the rooftop of her tower doesn't understand. but maybe he's traveled here from an alternate universe of his own. and he's just trying to get away. that, you understand.

despite the blood and grime all over you, you wrap your arms around his neck and you don't let go--he's a growing tidal wave as he attempts to rid himself of you. but you hold onto him, locking your limbs around his back, and you don't let go. if there's one thing you'll do right today, it's defeat him.

the rooftop doors open and you see her. she is so beautiful today. and you, bloodied and aching, are exhausted.

you cannot read what her eyes or face are showing--might be the pounding headache and blurred vision on your part. but she is still looking. and it's more than what you can say for the last four miserable months of your life.

you think you hear her say your name, but you're not sure. you don't want to get your hopes up.

he's punching your side and you just tighten your hold around his neck which only pisses him off more. well, get in line, buddy, you're not the only one.

agents rush out to surround your duel with him, and you hear your sister command this small army that has circled you. her appearance just means that you have to hold on even more knowing that one wrong move and you're endangering two people you love.

this alien has just about had enough of you, and you can't agree more, so you try to subdue him by using what remaining energy you have to deliver an unconscious blow, but he gets a hand on your ankle and yanks you off of him before slamming your body down onto the concrete. a crater with your name on it.

there are muffled gasps and you hear your sister order for agents to attack and he wails above you in anger as specialized bullets hit him. his massive hand grabs you by your emblem and he pushes you into the ground, your lungs fighting to breathe at the heavy weight. your hands paw at his wrist to push him away, to no avail. your powers are waning, your energy is zapped, you really are so very tired.

when you look up, there is surprising calm in his onyx eyes despite the rumbling storm around you.

and you think this might be it for you.

you expect pain on the final blow but instead of pain, your body is heaved forward and into nothingness, the weight of his hand on your chest now acting as an anchor.

you hear your sister call for you. but you also hear her, her piercing scream cutting through your consciousness. there is panic, there is worry. for you.

and then they’re gone.

and so are you.

only to open your eyes in the exact same place as before underneath the exact same sky. except there are no agents. there is no rogue alien. there is no sister.

but there is her.

tentative, frightened, curious. she is looking at you and you are looking at her and you realize she is not who you know. and you wonder if the crushing weight on your chest is a phantom pressure from the rogue alien who was seconds away from killing you.

she is kneeling beside your body that's still stretched out flat on the ground. and she is looking at you with just so much.

and she is saying, “who are you?"

and you.

you begin to cry.